Page 77 of Night Hawk
“I respect your opinion.” Clay locked gazes with Blake. “If you feel compelled to call Trent, I hope you’ll at least give us a head start.”
Blake didn’t respond for a long moment. “All I can say is when you get to Sharkey’s place, don’t mess with any evidence, and whatever you do, don’t hurt the guy.”
19
Toni crept down the gravel driveway behind Clay, the pebbles underfoot crunching no matter how carefully she walked. His brothers followed. They’d brought Pong to search the house after they’d detained Sharkey but had left the dog in his crate in the SUV. He was so well trained he wouldn’t bark at anything and wouldn’t alert Sharkey.
Toni glanced through her night vision goggles at the tall maple trees swaying in the wind. Everything was tinged green by her NVGs. Though the night helped them approach unseen, she wished they were approaching this suspected murderer’s house in the daylight instead of the dark. Sure, the moon and starlight provided ambient light to help their NVGs function properly, but nothing beat daylight to get eyes on a suspect.
The house lights shone ahead like a beacon of hope in the foggy night, but hope didn’t live in that house. A criminal did. Perhaps a murderer. And she would soon be walking up to the door and trying to lure him out. Erik had discovered Sharkey was once an active duty Marine, but when he separated, he traveled around for some time before buying this farm, where he lived alone except for harvest time. Then he hired migrants just like Rader did, and they were in business at the same time. Blake was probably right about Sharkey knowing Rader. Maybe they shared migrants or met while organizing the workforce. Either way, they had a connection.
Clay held his hand up, and everyone stopped. He turned and lifted his NVGs. The others followed suit.
“Surprisingly, Sharkey doesn’t have any security cameras.” Clay’s volume was quieter than normal. “He’s in the front room. His face matches the DL picture we have of him. I’ll go to the door with Toni, and the rest of you have the house perimeter as planned. Any other questions or comments, speak now.”
No one said a word.
“Okay, then we’re holding here while you move into position.”
The guys set off, sticking to a nearby tree line on the way, barely visible in the darkness. Clay dropped his NVGs to his eyes and faced the area where his brothers had disappeared. She followed suit with her goggles but watched the house instead. Thankfully, the Byrd’s had top of the line equipment. Their NVGs were equipped with FLIR—forward-looking infrared—technology allowing them to safely switch from nighttime to light and not hurt their eyes if they had to rush the house.
She saw Sharkey get up, scratch his belly, and turn to go into the other room. He was tall and fit for his age. His face was narrow, his cheeks high, his hair in a ponytail, and he matched the driver’s license photo they’d seen.
“Suspect’s moving,” she said into the comms unit. “Heading to the rear of the house.”
“Heads up, Brendan,” Clay said. “That’s you.”
“Got him,” Brendan said. “Looks like he’s going to the can.”
“Perfect time for everyone to get in position. Toni and I are advancing.” Clay looked at her and she nodded her readiness.
They crept forward, drizzle starting to fall and dampen her face. Clay held his assault rifle and took sure steps down the drive. He arrived at the crumbling walkway and signaled a halt at the bottom of the steps leading to a small covered stoop.
“Report,” Clay whispered into his mic.
His brothers all confirmed they were in place.
“Then we’re knocking.” Clay climbed the steps to pound loudly on the door.
They both stepped to the side where Sharkey couldn’t see them through his peephole. She would try getting him to open up with just hearing her voice first. She removed her NVGs and set them on the floor in case Sharkey demanded to see her. She tapped her foot silently while counting down the time.
She’d hit two-hundred when footsteps sounded by the door. “Who’s there?”
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Toni said. “But I ran out of gas. This being a farm, I hoped you’d have a pump on your property.”
He flipped on the outside light. “Show your face.”
She set down her rifle, blinked a few times to adjust to the light and stepped in front of the door, feeling vulnerable without the gun.
“Please,” she said as pathetically as she could. “I really need help. I’m late for a class at the community college, or I’d call for help.”
“Fine,” he said, not sounding happy about it. “Got a pump by the barn. I’ll be right out.”
She stepped to the side.
“I’ll take cover to get the jump on him,” Clay whispered as he picked up her things. He hopped off the stoop and disappeared in evergreen shrubs by the house.
The door creaked open, and Sharkey poked his head out, his gaze sharp and intense.
