Page 78 of Daybreak

“This is Lavinsky. What’s up?”

“Sir, this is Decker. You need to see this. In the lab. Now.”

“On the way,” Lavinsky said, took the stairs down a floor to their tech lab, and went straight to where Decker was working. “What’s up?”

“This is the security footage from the Dixon property. You have to see this,” he said and got up. “Sit in my chair, sir. You need a front-row seat for this.” He hit Start.

Lavinsky had seen it all before but sat through the entire footage again of all five of the security cameras on the property, waiting for some big reveal. When it got to the last few frames, where Dixon got out of the limo and went inside, and the chauffeur parked the limo and drove away, he frowned. “What am I supposed to be seeing?”

“Keep watching,” Decker said and pointed.

“What the hell?” he said. “This wasn’t on the original video.”

“Sir. This is the original video. Give it a few minutes. You’re going to see the chauffeur coming back to the estate on foot and climbing over the fence. There, right there.”

“Well, damn,” Lavinsky muttered, his eyes narrowing as the footage switched to another camera view showing the interior of the house, and there in plain sight was Beau Whistler going up the stairs and then into Dixon’s office with a gun.

“Can you turn up the audio?” Lavinsky asked.

Decker nodded and reached over Lavinsky’s shoulder.

At that point, there was nothing to do other than witness the ensuing murder and Whistler’s exit.

“I did not see that coming,” Lavinsky said. “Good work, Decker. Good work. Make a copy, then bring both to me ASAP. I’ll be in my office.”

“Yes, sir,” Decker said.

Lavinsky was already making mental notes of what he needed to do. They needed an arrest warrant. They had an address for Beau Whistler, but after seeing this, chances were that the man was already in the wind.

Within an hour, they had the warrant and sent a team to the address, only to discover that Whistler was gone—moved with no forwarding address. The hunt was on.

* * *

After a quick trip through Whole Foods and then home, Gunner put up the groceries, started a load of laundry, then sat down at his laptop and began searching for hydrogeologists in West Texas. He needed someone to find him a water source near the place where he wanted to build his house, and after a brief search, he found a couple within a reasonable distance of Crossroads and sent both of them a message. He was getting up to start a load of laundry when his cell phone rang.

It was Asher, and as soon as Gunner picked up, Asher started talking.

“I’m driving, so I don’t have much time to talk. You know Burgess Dixon is dead, right?”

“Yeah, suicide,” Gunner said.

“No. His bodyguard did it. They have security footage. The Feds recovered what had been erased, and he’s in the wind. They’re combing the streets of Dallas and found his truck in a used car lot. He sold it for cash. They don’t know where he is or what he’s driving. I was told they’re going through security footage of every bus station and airport in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. Nobody knows what prompted him to off his boss, but he’s considered armed and dangerous.”

“That’s the same man I put on the floor and handcuffed to a piece of furniture when I went to have it out with Dixon,” Gunner said.

“Damn it,” Asher muttered. “Just pay attention to your surroundings until they find and arrest him, okay?”

“Yes, and thanks for the heads-up,” Gunner said.

“Are you okay, otherwise?” Asher asked.

“I turned in my resignation and told the guys in the department about the lottery. I am in the beginning stages of selling my house and moving back to Crossroads, and I’m bringing Holly with me.”

“So, you two are a thing now?” Asher asked.

“Yes, we are officially a thing.”

“What does she think about leaving Dallas?” Asher asked.