“Bedroom is clear!” he called.

“Living room is clear too!”

Pryce tried the bathroom next. The shower screen was still dappled with water. He reached down and touched a towel dumped on the tiled floor. It was damp. He heard a tap, tap, tap on the small frosted window and jumped. Then realized it was the sound of heavy rainfall outside.

“Bathroom is clear! We just missed him.”

“Pryce,” Medina called. “Take a look in here.”

They met in the kitchen, where Medina silently pointed to a coffee mug on the table. Steam rose from the black liquid. Pryce crossed the small room and placed a hand against the coffee pot on the counter.

“Hot,” he mouthed at Medina.

Daniels was still in the apartment.

They both raised their guns again and edged quietly toward the doorway. A crash came from the hallway, followed by another bang. The sound of wood on wood. Pryce and Medina burst out of the kitchen and saw the door to a small hallway closet was lying open and a mop and vacuum cleaner were upended on the floor. The busted front door was still shaking on its hinges where it had been thrown open against the wall as Daniels had made his noisy escape.

Pryce heard footsteps pounding on concrete outside the apartment and emerged onto the wraparound balcony just as a blond man disappeared down the stairwell. He raced after him, taking the stairs two at a time, switching the gun to his left hand so he could grasp the railings for support.

Outside, the rain was coming down hard. Pryce took in the empty street to his right. No sign of Daniels. He headed left and stuck his head around the side of the building, where he could just see through the heavy downpour a guy in dark clothing about halfway down a narrow alleyway that ran between the apartment block and the neighboring one.

Pryce gave chase, sprinting past local gang tags scrawled on the walls on either side, dodging trash cans that hadn’t been emptied in days. His shirt and pants were plastered to his body, his loafers slipping and sliding on the slick asphalt. But he was still fast, and he was closing the gap.

Daniels glanced back, saw Pryce was gaining on him, and paused just long enough to throw a trash can into his path. Pryce cursed. He vaulted the metal cylinder, and the debris that spilled from it, and landed too heavily on his weaker knee. A sharp jolt of pain shot through his leg, but he gritted his teeth and pushed on, picking up speed again. No way was he letting this asshole get away.