“He might be here.”

“Maybe. Why is Burke getting tips on our suspect anyway?”

“It makes sense the organized crime task force would want in on this. Mal’s working for somebody.”

“Yeah, but we’re the ones looking for him. It’s the Sand Piper Motel, so you know the tip came from a scumbag. How did the scumbag know the OC task force was interested in Mal?”

“I don’t know,” Radcliff said as he looked in the rearview mirror. “This looks like him, you could ask him.”

“I just might do that.”

“He didn’t have to tell us, be nice.”

Burke pulled in behind them in his unmarked cruiser. They were parked a block down from the Sandpiper Motel. Radcliff had got an anonymous tip that Mal Flynn was holed up there. As Burke got out, Radcliff and Ames did the same.

“I hear your partner is off becoming a grandfather,” Ames said.

“Yeah, as if it wouldn’t happen unless he was there. I figured the three of us should be able to handle it, though.”

“Hell, Radcliff and I could have done it without you. Chances are it’s a dead-end,” Ames remarked as he opened the trunk and got out a pair of Kevlar vests.

“If it’s nothing, why the body armor?”

“Because if it’s not, things are likely to get ugly. Mal’s not a big fan of cops in general, but he really hates us. Especially Radcliff.”

“Oh yeah, I heard. You stole his girl.”

“Stealing implies possession. She was available.”

“Hey, I don’t blame you. I bet he doesn’t see it that way, though.”

“Probably not,” Radcliff agreed as he finished strapping on the vest.

“I’ve got an extra if you want it,” Ames told Burke as he retrieved a shotgun. He checked and found it was loaded and ready to go.

“I’ll just let you guys go in first. Did you check with the motel management?”

“Yeah, they get a call like this about once a week. The desk guy is meeting us there so he can unlock the door. That way they don’t have to fix the door after we kick it in.”

They all piled into Ames’ cruiser and drove around the block into the parking lot of the Sand Piper Motel. Ames parked in front of the office instead of Mal’s supposed room. The clerk hardly looked old enough to drive and he certainly didn’t look happy to see Ames. He looked around, clearly hoping no current residents were watching since they wouldn’t be happy seeing him helping the police.

“Number eleven,” Ames told him.

“I heard.”

“Any chance you could tell us what might be waiting for us behind that door?” Burke asked.

“All I know is they checked in yesterday, paid for the week, and signed the register Mr. Smith.”

“You haven’t seen him?”

“I wasn’t behind the desk when they checked in, and nobody asked for more towels, so why would I?”

Room eleven wasn’t far from the office. The clerk unlocked the door and then ran away. Radcliff opened the door and they all moved away from the entrance. When no one shot at them, Ames yelled, “Police, lay on the floor and put your hands behind your head.”

He waited for a second to give anyone inside time to obey his command, and then he racked the slide and chambered a shell. The sound was loud enough to let anybody inside know he wasn’t messing around.

Ames stepped inside with the shotgun raised. Radcliff was right behind him, brandishing his pistol. The room was dark, the lights were off and the curtains were drawn. Radcliff found the light switch. The bed was still made and there wasn’t anything else in the room, but an outdated television bolted to the wall and an old chest of drawers pockmarked with cigarette burns.

Ames motioned to the bathroom. Radcliff opened the door, and they again stepped aside. When nobody shot at them, Ames went in with the shotgun. He looked in the shower and found it as empty as the rest of the place. The window back there was shut and locked. Even if someone Mal’s size could have climbed out of the small window, they couldn’t have locked it from the outside, so no one slipped out this way.

“I take it Mal wasn’t in there either?” Burke asked.

“Nope,” Ames told him. “I didn’t figure he would be.”

“Too bad, I was really hoping to talk to this asshole.”

“You shouldn’t have got your hopes up. What’s so important about Mal, anyway? He’s an accessory to homicide at the very least so we want him, but as far as organized crime goes, he’s nothing more than a soldier.”

“Normally, I’d agree, but there’s a serious shakeup going on, and I think somehow your old pal is in the middle of it.”

“I wouldn’t call him my pal. What kind of shakeup?”

Burke shrugged. “I was kind of hoping Mal could shed some light on that.”

“Anybody else find this kind of odd? I didn’t really think Mal would be here, but I kind of thought somebody would be,” Radcliff said. “Bed doesn’t look slept in, and I don’t see any luggage.”

“Trash cans are empty too,” Ames added.

“Somebody paid for a room that they didn’t eat or sleep in?”

“Maybe they changed their mind after getting a look at the room,” Burke speculated.

“Kind of weird to get a tip that somebody is in an empty room. Maybe we need to talk to the clerk and find out who was working when Mr. Smith checked in.”

Burke was the first person out, followed by Ames.

“Should we get somebody to sit on the place for a while?” Radcliff asked. “Maybe Mal just makes his bed really well.”

Ames turned to reply but stopped when a car pulled up in front of room number eleven. He turned back to see guns poking out of the front passenger window. He couldn’t tell if it was one person holding two guns or two people each pointing what he guessed to be Mac-10s at them. Either way, he swung the shotgun around.

The sub-machine guns roared before he could get off a shot. The vest slowed down the nine-millimeter slugs coming his way, but at this range, it didn’t stop them. Even if it had, there was nothing the body armor could do about the bullet he took to the forehead. He and Burke went down immediately.

Radcliff was spared the initial volley and fired back, but the extended magazines on the machine guns kept spitting out lead. Radcliff took two in the chest and stumbled back into the room. He fired back from his back until his pistol was out of bullets then kicked the door shut. All he could do then was cover his head as the gunman in the car unleashed another series of shots into the door.

While he ducked, Radcliff radioed the magic words, “Man down,” to the dispatcher.

The shooting stopped and Radcliff heard the car speed away. He pushed himself to his feet, planning to go out and do what he could for Ames and Burke.

His legs didn’t seem to be working and his shirt under the Kevlar felt oddly wet and sticky. He ran his hand along his side and saw his palm was now covered in blood. The vest had stopped a few slugs, but something must have got through. Radcliff’s head began to swim, but he tried to keep going. He pushed the door open and then collapsed on the sidewalk next to Ames and Burke.