CHAPTER 57
Kitally’s house looked like Grand Central Station. Everywhere Lizzy looked, there was coffee, pizza, and soda. Not to mention stacks of files, notebooks, and enough laptops to supply everyone in the room with two computers each.
Tommy had run off hours ago to instruct classes at his karate business, and Lizzy and Jessica had followed Hayley and Kitally home.
A giant whiteboard was propped up against one of the windows. In big bold letters Lizzy had written: Identify the man following Lizzy. Identify the Ambassador Club killer.
It was past nine and nobody showed any signs of slowing down.
Kitally wasn’t talking much. She was pissed off after spending two hours filling out a police report and leaving with nothing more than a promise that they would look into the matter further since it ended up being his word against theirs. After the police finally showed up, Chalkor insisted that they had broken into his warehouse because they were angry they hadn’t been able to find any evidence incriminating him in the workers’ comp case. It hadn’t helped Kitally’s case that she’d beaten the crap out of him.
Kitally sat on the biggest couch in the room. She had fabrics and a sewing kit spread out as she worked on a new project. Nobody went near her.
Hayley and Jessica had taken over the kitchen table.
Lizzy had lists, papers, and maps spread out across the floor, where she did her best work.
“How many mug shots have we looked at?” Hayley asked.
“At least a thousand.”
“Any possibilities yet?” Lizzy asked.
“Three maybes.”
Hayley kept right-clicking, keeping the pictures moving at a good pace. “Wait,” Jessica said. “Go back.”
Hayley clicked the left button until Jessica said, “Him—I think that’s our guy!”
In less than a minute, all four of them were staring at the man on the screen in front of Hayley. Hayley didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”
Jessica had used Kitally’s copier in the back room and made copies of the sketch Hayley had drawn that morning. She took one of the copies and handed it to Hayley. Then she handed her a pencil and said, “Can you give him a beard and make his hair darker?”
As soon as Hayley finished with the drawing, they were all nodding in agreement. “Those two men are identical,” Kitally said.
“What’s his name?” Lizzy asked.
“Frank Lyle. He served ten years for aggravated assault, rape, attempted murder.”
“I know that name,” Lizzy said. “He was the convict who was more than happy to take credit for Spiderman’s victims. For a long while everyone thought he was Spiderman and the media went crazy for him. He was—”
The sharp report of a gun outside cut Lizzy off. She grabbed for her weapon, but she wasn’t wearing her holster.
Jessica ran to the door leading to the backyard. “There’s someone out there.”
Lizzy ran down the hallway and up the stairs, put on shoes, and grabbed her gun. By the time she ran outside, Kitally was at her side with her machete in hand. They found Hayley standing over a man who lay bleeding on the ground. Jessica was kneeling over him, and barked orders at Kitally to call 911 and get her something to stanch the flow of blood. Kitally ran back to the house.
Lizzy took off her coat. She bent down and made a makeshift pillow for Detective Chase’s head. He’d been shot in the chest. He was bleeding bad.
“You were right,” he said, his voice weak.
“What are you talking about? What are you doing here?”
“Not a phantom,” he said in a whisper. “Your guy is real.”
“What about Shelby’s other boyfriend? What happened with that?”
“Turned out”—he paused for a breath—“the kid made up the entire story.”
“They’re on their way,” Kitally told Lizzy as she bent down and moved Lizzy’s hand that was pressed over the detective’s wound. Kitally made quick work of cutting open his shirt and using clean cloths and lots of gauze to stop the bleeding.
“The girl’s parents dragged her to the station, made her apologize,” Chase said, his voice clear, as if the shock was wearing off and he’d gotten a second wind. “She was jealous of the attention Shelby was getting, wanted a piece of the action. Can you imagine?”
“So you came here? Why?”
“I came to tell you what I knew, thought I’d let you gloat a little. I parked a few blocks away, figured I’d take a look around, keep an eye out for this phantom of yours. And lo and behold, I saw a shadow moving through the trees, heading this way. I thought I could catch him unaware. Turns out your guy has eyes in the back of his head. I had no idea he knew I was there. He wheeled around and shot me and then took off through those trees.”
“It’s Frank Lyle,” Lizzy said. “That’s his name.”
A flicker of recognition crossed his face. “No kidding?”
Chase didn’t look good. He’d lost a lot of blood. Lizzy wanted him to stay conscious. “Stay with me, Detective.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
“You’ve been shot before?”
“Nah,” he said, wincing. “I’ve been doing this for thirty years and not a scratch. I had a feeling my first time would have something to do with you, Gardner.”