CHAPTER TWELVELindsey couldn’t figure out where Dorothy Yamura had got a gun. No, he knew she was a cop, she would carry one as a matter of course. But she was wearing jeans and a plaid flannel shirt that didn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination. There was no holster strapped to her waist or her shoulder.
But she had a gun and it was pointed straight at Lindsey. She made a gesture with her head. “Just put your hands behind your neck and lace your fingers. Then get down on your knees and keep going until you’re flat on your belly. Then keep your hands like that and spread your feet far apart.”
“But I—”
She moved her head again, or the gun, or something. It didn’t take a neon sign to get the message across. Lindsey did as he was told. His knees weren’t as limber as they’d been once upo
