Our plan worked. The judge was dead. One of the security guards ended up with a shoulder wound because he stepped in the way as I fired a second time. The third shot finished the job on the judge. In the chaos that followed I dropped from the tree to the ground and retrieved the rifle case from the bushes where I’d left it. As I raced away through the memorial park, I could hear the judge’s wife screaming and the guards shouting to each other that the shooter was now in the park. Apparently, stupidly, they thought Coop and I were the same person. And they work for a good security company? I don’t think I’ll be using them any time soon. That inane thought ran through my mind as I dashed across the street and through someone’s yard, keeping a low profile until I reached the alley behind thei
