The Edge of Night Read Online Free PDF

crossfire. Then again, most criminals had children of their own. The future generation of gang members.
    Patrick and Noah approached the front door together, their eyes and ears peeled. There was no particular reason for stealth—this was a drop-in interview, not a drug bust—but they didn’t immediately advertise their presence.
    Outside the door, Noah paused to listen for voices inside the residence, noting the closed curtains and dim interior lights. He heard shuffling motions, followed by a moment of taut silence. They’d been made.
    Patrick rapped his knuckles against the door. “Chula Vista Police Department,” he said. “We’d like to speak with Tony Castillo.”
    The person inside exploded into motion. Heavy footsteps scattered in the opposite direction, toward the back of the house.
    “He’s running,” Noah said, poised for action.
    Patrick muttered a curse, fumbling for the radio at his shoulder. “Go!”
    Noah took off in a flash, slamming around the corner of the house and high-jumping a crooked picket fence without missing a beat. The suspect flew out the back door and kept going, his white T-shirt gleaming in the dark.
    “Chula Vista Police,” Noah shouted at him. “Get down on the ground!”
    Ignoring him, Tony Castillo sailed over the back fence, into a neighbor’s yard.
    “Fuck,” Noah said under his breath, following him over. The instant his feet hit the grass, he was running again. A pair of snarling pit bulls tore across the lawn, barking and nipping at his heels.
    Luckily, none of the teeth caught hold.
    Castillo made a quick left, climbing a block wall that separated the housing tract from a business area.
    On the other side, he’d have more room to run.
    Noah hit the wall hard and heaved himself over it, hurtling into the unknown, throwing caution to the wind. He landed in a copse of eucalyptus trees, almost losing his footing before he took off again. The steep slope angled down toward a mega-mart parking lot. Castillo was already streaking across the asphalt, making a break for it. Noah scrambled after him, his shoes seeking purchase among the fallen leaves and rock-strewn dirt.
    As soon as he was on stable ground, Noah started to gain on him. Castillo was fast, but Noah was faster. Noah felt confident that he had greater endurance, as well.
    Aware that he was losing the race, Castillo made another evasive maneuver, darting between buildings.
    Noah struggled with the same decision he’d faced earlier: follow blindly or wait and listen. This time there were no snapping pit bulls to consider, and visibility was an issue. The rest of the parking lot was well lit, but the alleyway was cloaked in shadow.
    Cursing silently, he paused at the corner of the building, flattening his back against the rough concrete wall.
    He listened for running footsteps. The only sound he heard was blood rushing in his ears and his heart pounding in his chest. Touching the radio receiver at his shoulder, he gave Patrick a quick status report.
    Then he heard the familiar rattle of a body hitting chain link.
    “Continuing pursuit,” he said, entering the dark passageway. Castillo’s white T-shirt shone like a beacon at the end of the alley, which was barricaded by a sizable fence. Noah ran hard, knowing he’d lost several precious seconds in hesitation.
    Castillo started to climb.
    Noah thought about drawing his weapon but had the suspect pegged as a noncompliant, the kind of criminal who wouldn’t respond to threats. And Noah didn’t have cause to shoot him. If Castillo hadn’t been several feet off the ground, Noah would have used his Taser. A hundred volts of electricity usually made the most resistant arrestee docile.
    Instead, Noah employed a bit of old-fashioned brute force. When he caught up to Castillo, he grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him backward, anticipating a satisfying physical confrontation. He didn’t expect the suspect to cooperate. Noah was hoping he wouldn’t, in fact. He