Page 15 of End Game

“No, nothing.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“The governor texted me, requesting that I meet her here.”

“How did she seem when you arrived?”

“Anxious.”

“Why did she want to meet you?”

She hesitated for a brief moment, then said, “She wanted to tell me something.” Her eyes filled with tears, though they never fell. “But she didn’t get the chance.”

“Any idea of what she wanted to share?”

Another hesitation, followed by a negative head shake.

He would drill into that topic later. Right now, he wanted to get Kayla to safety.

“The sirens have likely scared off the shooter. We need to get you inside.”

“I don’t want to leave her.”

He had no way of knowing if the governor or Kayla was the shooter’s intended target. No doubt both women had made enemies on their climb to the top.

Cameron heard the rapid footsteps a second before a tall, distinguished gray-haired gentleman, hemmed in by two men in near-identical black suits, rushed toward them. The older man appeared to be vying for the lead position and having little success.

He rose to a standing crouch, using a thick support beam as cover. “FBI. Stay right there.”

The trio skidded to a halt.

“Glenn Ziller.” The suit in front lifted his hands in the air, one held a gun. “My partner Ford and I,” he jerked his head toward the other suit bringing up their flank, “are part of the governor’s security detail. My creds are inside my jacket.”

Cameron motioned the man to proceed with his gun. “Slowly.”

“Kayla!” The distinguished gentleman’s voice was breathless with fear as he tried to push past Suit Number One, but the younger guy simply held out a muscular arm, barring his way.

“Daddy?” Kayla scrambled to her feet and, before Cameron could stop her, she ran into the older man’s arms.

Gordon Krowne hugged his daughter close. “Are you all right, Pepper?”

With an odd combination of relief and envy, Cameron observed how her father’s endearment seemed to calm her.

“Fine,” Kayla said. “Where’s Mama?”

“Entertaining our guests. I didn’t want to say anything until I knew more.” He cocked his head, listening to the sirens. “A decision I will pay for shortly when the police arrive on our doorstep.”

Cameron checked the creds of each bodyguard, though he kept his handgun aimed at Glenn’s center mass. “Where were you while the governor took a bullet?”

“Bullet?” Gordon echoed.

“Aunt Vicky’s d-dead,” Kayla said, her voice breaking.

“My God.”

Ford cursed, and the two guards shot forward.

“Stop, or I’ll blow you into the rosebushes.” Cameron widened his stance. “Answer my question.”

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