Schism

Chapter 27 part 1

Chapter 27

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Bryan stared at Cray from the back seat of their car.  Rios was still the easier of the two to deal with, by far.  "What of all that did you not understand?" he asked Cray.

"Anything that you're talking about, really," Cray said.

Even from the back, Bryan could see Rios roll his eyes.  He took a deep breath and let Cray's attitude wash over and away as he checked his watch.  1:15 a.m.  For a moment, his fingers lingered on its face, but then slid away.  After seeing how William had rescued it for him, he didn't seem to need the comfort the watch provided as much.

He tried explaining again, worked on not only keeping what he knew about William out of the explanation, but on keeping it as simple as possible.  "The one thing we know about the vigilante is that he likes to go after these white power assholes, right?"

He waited.  Finally Rios spoke up.  "Right."

"The hard part is knowing where they are going to be," Bryan said.  "Right?"

"Especially when the D.A. says they don't exist," Rios said.  Bryan nodded a thanks to him in the rear view mirror.

Finally Cray joined in the conversation with a magnanimous grunt of agreement.

Bryan took it for a cue to keep going.  "But, while looking for my escapee, I found out that the homeless shelters see a change in where the homeless come from just before an attack.  They live on the streets, they see the suspicious characters, they know when to run."

"And your contact at a shelter told you they were running out of this area," Rios said.

"Doesn't make sense," Cray said.  "This is a neighborhood.  A good one."

It took a long moment for Bryan to answer that without sounding annoyed.  The man probably thought that the homeless only lived downtown.  "I know, but with all the people deserting the city, there are vacant houses all over.  They were house squatters."  He didn't know if there had been any squatters in this neighborhood or not, but the homeless migration story made sense and it gave him a cover so he wouldn't have to admit anything about how he'd received the address directly from the perpetrators on a confiscated cell phone earlier that day.

Cray grunted back, as close to agreement as Bryan would get.

"I'm gonna scout on foot.  I'll signal you when I see anything," Bryan said.

"We should go in together," Rios said.

"As slippery as your vigilante seems to be," Bryan said, choosing his words carefully.  Rios was sharp and could easily pick up inconsistencies if Bryan left any.  "Don't you think you should be ready with the car?"

"Yeah," Cray nodded.

Bryan smiled as he opened the door.  He'd scored an actual word from the other detective.  He started down the dark sidewalk toward the address in the text, two blocks away. 

He crossed the first street, head tilted down, but eyes checking left and right.  He was alone, which was to be expected so late at night.  There was no sign of skinheads, klansmen or whoever else this Jared Smith had brought together.  Bryan didn't know if they were burning houses in this neighborhood or if this was just a rallying point.

He continued down the street and saw a shadow step from beneath the next tree.  He stopped, brought his hands up in front of his chest and rubbed them together, right in position to easily grab his Glock.