Blowout

clear for Savich to hear. Savich had continued to listen, for the sound of a door opening, a window, anything. But there was only silence. And he’d known Eliza Vickers was dead and that he’d been helpless to do anything about it.
    Günter had sounded as American as the apple pie they’d baked for dinner. American. No regional accent. Savich was aware of Ben and Callie standing in the kitchen doorway, keeping the other officers out.
    Of course Günter was long gone. Savich knew in his gut they wouldn’t find him, not this time. Too much cover in all the maples and oaks behind the condo complex, too many places to hide a car, a motorcycle, or even to run a mile to someplace near the highway.
    He closed his eyes against the pain of Eliza’s death, realizing he could hardly bear it either. He’d never seen Sherlock like this. She looked beaten down, crushed. Eliza Vickers, so smart, so very real, and he’d heard her die on his damned cell phone. He knew he would live with that forever. He lowered his head, holding both his sobbing wife and Eliza Vickers, who wasn’t there anymore to care.
    Suddenly, Savich reared up and yelled, “Ben, Callie, we’ve got to get over to Fleurette’s house. Call her, tell her to hide. Call 911, have as many squad cars there as fast as possible to canvas the area, stop everyone who’s alone in a car. Take her to my house. Hurry!”
    Ben didn’t hesitate. Both he and Callie were out the door. Ben tossed Callie his address book as he jumped into the car. “Fleurette’s number, quick!”
    She read it out, and he dialed. The phone rang once, twice, three times. Finally, Ben heard her voice. “Hello?”
    “Fleurette?”
    “Yes, who’s this? It’s after midnight, who—”
    “This is Detective Ben Raven. No, be quiet and listen to me. Is your house alarm set?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you have a gun?”
    A slight pause, then, “Yes, a twenty-two revolver.”
    “Loaded?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good. Get the gun and come back to the phone.”
    After a short pause, she said, “Okay, I’ve got it.”
    “Now keep it close until Callie Markham and I get there. Find a place to hide where no one can surprise you, and stay there. If a man gets into your house, I want you to shoot to kill, you got me? Don’t hesitate, shoot to kill. You’ll be hearing sirens any minute. Keep inside. We’re on our way. But don’t let anyone in until you’re sure it’s me. Hurry!”
    “But—but what’s going on here, Detective Raven?”
    “We’ll tell you when we get there. Open your front door only to me, you got that? And don’t shoot me. I’m going to be taking you over to Agent Savich’s house in Georgetown. Do you understand?”
    “No, and this is very frightening.”
    “It’s good to be scared. Keep that gun close, and listen for any sound inside your house. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
    Ben punched off his cell phone, dialed 911, told the dispatcher he’d instructed the potential victim to keep her gun handy. The officers converging on the brownstone were not to go roaring in or she’d shoot them.
    He punched off his cell phone again. “I sure hope they pay attention. I don’t want her to kill anyone.”
    He slammed on the siren, and the Crown Vic roared onto the Beltway on-ramp. The roads were nearly empty, thank God. They were at Fleurette’s brownstone in under twenty minutes. Several police cars had already arrived, their lights flashing, officers milling around the brownstone. Thank God none of them had gone up to the front door. “Stay in the car, Callie. I’ll get Fleurette.”
    Ben ran up the walk, banged on the front door, calling out as he struck it with his fist. “Fleurette, it’s me, Detective Ben Raven. You can let me in. Don’t shoot me.”
    Fleurette opened the door immediately and stepped back. She was holding a small .22 at her side. “So now will you tell me what’s going on here, Detective?”
    “Get inside, Fleurette.” He turned to see Callie running up the walk, and waved her in. “Hurry.”
    Fleurette grabbed his arm. “All these cop cars. Detective Raven, what’s happened?”
    He searched her face as he said, “Eliza Vickers was just murdered.”
    Her face went utterly white. Her eyes went blank. Then she whimpered, deep in her throat, and sank to her knees on the floor.
    Ben closed the door behind Callie and flipped off the light switch. It was completely dark inside the brownstone, not even a shadow for Günter to shoot at. He