Free Night Terrors by Dennis Palumbo

Arctic cold, emptied of snow. Not a flurry had hit the Lincoln’s windshield as we drove back the way we’d come. With most of the streets plowed, snow piled in lumpy drifts on either side, it took Billy, again our driver, just half the time to make the trip.
    Still, it was plenty of time for Neal Alcott to fill us in. He sat in the front passenger seat, body twisted awkwardly around to peer in the dim light at Barnes and me in the rear.
    â€œHer name is Claire Cobb, twenty-nine. Native of Dayton, Ohio. Went to work for the Cleveland DA’s office right after law school. On the fast track, like I said. The Jessup case was her biggest plum yet. And she nailed it.”
    Barnes grumbled. “Wasn’t hard. The evidence was overwhelming. Once he passed the psych eval, Jessup was toast.”
    â€œWhatever.” Alcott took a breath. “Anyway, we’d just sent a team to Cleveland this afternoon, following the judge’s murder. To convince her to accept FBI protection, stay in a safe house outside town till we got the prick.”
    â€œSo what happened?”
    â€œThe goddam weather is what happened. Our two agents got stranded on the interstate heading there to meet her. Some kinda car trouble. By the time they got hold of another vehicle, it was too late. They show up at the Cleveland DA’s office, only to find the whole block cordoned off. Black-and-whites. City ambulance. Turns out, Claire Cobb was shot going to her car in the parking garage. After work.”
    â€œHow bad was she injured?” Barnes asked.
    â€œMinor. Shoulder wound. The bullet went in and out. She was damned lucky, that’s for sure. She told the cops the shooter was in some kind of blue or black van. Came barreling out of a darkened corner of the garage, leaning out the driver’s side window with a gun. He fired two shots, only one of which hit her, and kept driving.”
    Barnes whistled. “She was lucky, all right.”
    â€œWhere is Claire now?” I asked.
    Alcott said, “Here. In Greentree, across the river. We have her stashed in a Marriott there.”
    I knew the place. I’d attended a clinical conference there once. Just east of the city.
    â€œShe didn’t need hospitalization?”
    â€œThey took her to some ER in Cleveland, of course. But they patched her up and said she was good to go. At first, she just wanted to go home, but our agents talked her out of it. Told her the guy might try again. Scared the shit out of her. She caved.”
    â€œBut why bring her here?” I was having a hard time understanding the bureau’s approach to these shootings.
    â€œI can probably answer that,” Barnes said. “If I were Neal here, I’d want to run the whole show from one place. Easier to control intel, coordinate field agents. Much easier to keep potential victims safely tucked away.”
    Alcott nodded. “That’s right. Besides, the Pittsburgh office runs FBI operations for the whole tri-state area. So the bureau can interface with the Steubenville cops on the Cranshaw killing, the Pittsburgh cops on Judge Loftus—”
    â€œI thought he was from Cleveland, too,” I said. “Where Claire Cobb lives and works.”
    â€œHe is, but he was killed here in the city. So in terms of jurisdiction, it’s Pittsburgh PD’s case.”
    â€œSpeaking of Loftus, has his daughter Helen been located? Informed what happened?”
    â€œUh-huh. Soon as she got back from her hiking trip, she got the next-of-kin notification. Took it pretty hard, according to the cops.”
    â€œNo surprise there.”
    â€œThankfully, her boyfriend was with her. Plus her dorm mate at Carnegie Mellon.”
    All the family she had left, I reflected. I hoped they’d be enough. I also made a mental note to follow up with her through Angie Villanova. To make sure Helen was getting the support she’d need.
    Barnes cleared his throat. “So the