Collateral Damage

Rachel continues to remain motionless at the side of her bed. Her gun pointed towards the window. She's been waiting so long for her intruder to make a move that every muscle in her body aches. I feel like I've been standing here forever. She glances at her alarm to find it's 2 am. This game has gone on far too long.

Pointed her gun towards the glass, she grabs the lift cord with her free hand and jerks up the blinds. She expects to find a face in the window but sees a homing pigeon instead. I went through an hour of hell over a stupid bird. Chuckling, she releases the cord. The blinds fall into place. I've really got to get a grip on things.

Her phone rings beside her. She jumps then laughs when she realizes what it is. "All over a stinking bird." She laughs again.

"Webb," she answers. "Three people were killed in their homes? I'll meet you out front...Wear my vest, but captain, I..." Rachel rolls her eyes. "Alright, I'll put it on."

***

Sirens continue to scream in the distance drowning out the night creature's eerie howls. Luigi is lying motionless across the seat, not sure what he should do. The intruder taps on the window, harder than before. I can either go to prison for the rest of my life or flee.

He hears the noise again. A gruff voice follows. "Can you spare a few bucks?"

Confused by his request, Luigi sits up. He turns to find a large, bearded man beside him. He can tell by his unkempt appearance and layers of filthy, thread-barren clothes that he's one of the city's misfortunates. A problem that's worsened since the factory's recent layoffs.

An overwhelming stench floats through the air when the man shuffles around. "My kids haven't eaten in days." He points to the bus bench.

"Get a job." Luigi starts his car.

The man's heard these words thousands of times before, but tonight it's different his children are on the brink of death. Anger boils inside the vagrant. Clinching his fist, he hisses through rotten teeth. "Let me tell you something, mister. I had a good job, a nice home, and a fancy car just like you. Then the economy tanked, and we lost it all."

"Tell your sob story to someone who gives a rat's ass because you're not getting a penny from me."

The transient looks towards his frail little girls crying in their mama's arms. I'm not letting them down again. Sliding his hand through the tiny opening, he grabs a handful of hair and slams the man's head against the glass. "Give me some money, or else," he warns, banging Luigi's head again.

Luigi tries to pry his fingers loose. The intruder pulls harder, ripping the hair from his scalp.

"I said get the hell out of here," Luigi warns. Reaching into his pocket, he fishes for his gun. His head slams against the glass, making him lose his grip. Reaching in, Luigi searches for it again.

Shoving his other hand through the window, the man grabs a second fistful of hair. "Give me some money, or else," he repeats.

Freeing the weapon from the material, Luigi holds the object above his head. "I'm giving you two seconds to step away from my car."

****

Joe and Rachel gulp down their coffee, hoping the strong liquid will give them the boost of energy they need.

Hearing something in the distance, Rachel straightens up in her seat. "Did you hear that?" she asks, glancing around.

"It sounded like gunfire." Joe pushes the pedal to the floor.

"Over there." Rachel points to a lifeless body lying on the ground.

Skidding to a stop, the two run towards the victim.

Rachel checks for a pulse. She looks up, shaking her head. "I'll call it in."

Seeing figures on a bench, Joe races towards them. "Did you see what happened?"

"He killed him. He killed him," the lady sobs, pulling two young girls in close.

"Who did?" Joe asks.

"This...this gunman, he shot my husband and then sped away."

"What kind of car is he driving?"

"It's an older black Mustang with red lights around the plates. He took off that away." She points down the road.

Joe runs towards his partner. "Get their statement." He darts towards his car.

Rachel sees a haggard-looking woman on the bench dressed in layers of worn rags. Her face is filthy, and her hair a matted mess. You could tell they were mere skin and bones underneath their blanket of clothes. Rachel recalls how her family was in that same predicament not that long ago. It'd be nice if I could help them the way others have helped us. A few ideas come to mind. I'll take their statement and then see what I can do.

She stops in front of the grieving family. "My name is Rachel Webb, and I'm with the Berryville PD." She shows the lady her badge. "I know this is going to be difficult for you, but I need you to start at the beginning and tell me what happened tonight." She pulls a notebook from her pocket, glances at the lady, and adds, "Don't leave anything out."

"My husband asked the guy for some money. The man shot him and drove away. I tried to save Arnold, I did, but he was already gone." She bawls.

"Can you describe the gunman?"

The lady wipes the tears from her face. "He's tall, around six three. He has long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. He's wearing a striped jacket and faded jeans." She glances towards his body again. "Why did he have to kill my husband why? Why couldn't he just give us some money to feed the girls?"

Hearing footsteps behind them, Rachel turns to find Kirk heading her way.

"Joe said that there'd been a shooting,"

"The victim is over there." She points to the side of the road. Nodding, he walks towards the body. Glancing at the grieving widow, Rachel says, "Kirk is the best in best in his field helped us solve dozens of cases."

"I think you need to see this," The forensic technician yells.

"I'll be right back." Rachel rushes towards him.

"What is it?" she asks, squatting down beside him.

He holds up a small metal object. "I found a gun shell casing. By the looks of it, I'd say it came from a .38. I'll see if it matches the ones from the other crime scenes when I get it to the lab. There's also this." He pries the guy's fingers open and removes a clump of hair. "I should be able to get DNA from this."

"How much do you want to bet that it comes back as Tito's?"

"I wouldn't doubt it a bit." Jeff glances towards the family. "Was she any help?"

"Her details match the guy I saw yesterday."

"That's the same description the maid gave us at the Maroni's."

Rachel shakes her head. "So, they must've been the target, and this guy just happened to get in the way."