Page 147 of State of Suspense

Shelby and baby Maisie were keeping Avery company. He looked pale, but otherwise much better than Sam had expected. He had a huge bandage over his right shoulder, and that arm was in a sling.

“Come in,” he said when he saw Sam and Freddie.

“Thanks for seeing us.”

“No problem.”

Sam gave Shelby a one-armed hug as she glanced at the baby and melted. “My goodness, Tinker Bell, but that baby is gorgeous.”

“Isn’t she dreamy?”

“The dreamiest.”

Sam forced herself to tear her gaze away from the baby and focus on why she’d come. “I need to talk to you about the Peckhams.”

Both Shelby and Avery tensed at the mention of that name.

“I’m going to find a quiet corner to feed the baby.” Shelby grabbed the diaper bag, kissed Avery and headed for the door.

“Sorry to upset her.”

“She wants to know who shot me as much as you do.”

“I know. I met them earlier at Jessup.” Sam shuddered. “I can’t imagine Shelby being confronted by that guy and fearing for her life and Noah’s.”

“Right? He’s the worst of the worst. You’re looking at him for me and Tom?”

“Your bullet matches Tom’s. You were both involved in their case. He and his new wife broke into your home, threatened your wife and son. We’re taking a hard look.”

“They were locked up again when both of us were shot.”

“The rest of their crew wasn’t. Our theory is once they heard that Willy had failed to get to you, one of their people tried to finish the job.”

“Jesus,” he whispered. “When I first heard about Tom, I was sure it would lead right back to Damien Bryant.”

“Me, too, and that’s where we were focused until ballistics told us your bullet and Tom’s came from the same gun.” Sam refilled his cup of water, handed it to him and took a seat next to the bed. “We’ve had Amber Peckham transported to HQ and are offering her some leniency in exchange for telling us what she knows. We got her out of jail because she feared Willy would have her killed for talking to us.”

“She’s right to be afraid of him. The DV history with his first wife, Justice, goes back years. Police were regulars at their house.”

“Why wasn’t he ever put away for that?”

“She always refused to testify.”

“Ah, I see, and I guess I understand why. I’d be afraid of him if I was married to him.”

Avery grimaced. “Every time I think about it, my whole body goes hot with rage at the thought of that son of a bitch being anywhere near my precious family.”

She took out her notebook and pen. “Talk to me about who they are and what they did. I want the details of the investigation from your point of view.”

Avery took a sip of water and then handed the cup to Sam to put on the table. He rested his head against the pillows piled behind him. “It was early in my career, like the second year with the Bureau. They asked me to go undercover for up to six months. I moved to Corbin, got a job pumping gas, was a regular at the local hangouts and eventually infiltrated the Peckhams through one of their guys. Lonnie Marsden, one of Willy Peckham’s many first cousins, sat next to me at a bar one night, bought me a beer and got to talking, the way guys do. ‘Where you from?’ ‘What’d you do for fun?’ ‘What teams do you like?’ That kind of stuff. He invited me to a cookout at the Peckham’s ‘farm,’ which was really a run-down collection of buildings that housed their extended family.”

“I’m trying to picture you assimilating with these people.”

“I grew my hair out, didn’t shave, let my hands get dirty—and stay dirty—at the station.”

“Are there pictures of dirty Avery?”

“Focus, Sam.”

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