Page 16 of Lone Star Target

And while he was hoping, Jace added that maybe Brandon was all right.

Two women came out of one of the bottom-level apartments, hurrying toward the former hostage and rushing her back inside. Good move. Jace wanted to do the same for Kit.

To minimize the time out in the open, Jace led them into the elevator, and while they were going up the one floor, he did another visual check of Kit. She was shaken but unharmed.

They’d gotten damn lucky.

Now, he needed their luck to hold and the shooter to be caught. If it wasn’t one of their suspects but rather a hired gun, perhaps the guy would be willing to rat out his boss.

When the elevator doors opened, they assumed the same stance as they had moving across the parking lot with Kit in the center of Angel and him. They went fast, but before they even reached apartment 211, the door opened.

Shit.

It was Brandon. Jace recognized him from his photos. But instead of a smiling picture for his college ID, his face was grim, and there was blood running down the side of his head.

Kit bolted ahead of Jace, pulling Brandon into her arms. Jace got them both inside, and the moment Angel was in, he shut the door. Then, he called for an ambulance.

There was glass all over the floor, and it crunched beneath their boots as Jace continued to get them away from the window and into the kitchen.

“Were you shot?” Kit blurted.

Brandon dabbed at his head with his fingers, which were already coated with blood. “No. The glass cut me when it flew out.” His eyes were wide, and his breath was coming out in short juts. “Did someone just try to kill me?”

“I think so,” Kit admitted, and she had him sit on a stool at the kitchen counter while she hurried to the sink to wet some paper towels.

“And then the person tried to kill you,” Brandon concluded. “I heard the shots.” He glanced at Jace and then did sort of double take. “Detective Malley. I’ve heard about you.”

Jace didn’t ask how. He’d had some high-profile cases at SAPD, and the attention had given him far more media coverage than he’d wanted. Then again, he’d never wanted any press. Still, someone majoring in criminal justice would have likely known who he was.

“You work for Maverick Ops now,” Brandon added, and then he glanced at Angel. “He does, too?”

No press coverage for Angel so it was no surprise that Brandon didn’t know who he was. Angel’s name had thankfully never made it to the press. As a deep-cover detective, that would have blown his cover.

“Yes, that’s Angel DeLuca, and he works for Maverick Ops,” Kit verified, and she came back to Brandon to clean the cut on his head.

Once she’d wiped away the blood, Jace could see that the cut wasn’t that big or that deep. But it was damn close to his eye.

“Did you see the person who fired the shot?” Brandon asked, aiming the question at Jace. “Who was it?”

“He was wearing a ski mask. Have you gotten any threats or seen someone suspicion around the building?”

“No.” Brandon winced when Kit pressed on the wound, prompting her to murmur an apology. “Nothing out of the ordinary until today.” He looked straight at Jace. “Is this about those phones I found?”

“Possibly,” he settled for saying. But it was more than a possibility. Jace just didn’t know if the shot had been meant to kill Brandon.

Or scare him.

“The cops are back, and the shooter isn’t with them,” Angel relayed, grumbling out a few curse words under his breath. “Stay put and I’ll go down and see what I can find out.”

Angel stepped out and Jace hurried over to lock the door behind him. Yes, the window had a fist-sized hole in it, but he didn’t want anyone, especially the shooter, waltzing in for another round of gunfire.

“You’ll need to talk to the cops,” Kit said to her nephew. “But after that, you should be some place safe.” She glanced at Jace. “Can Ruby arrange that?”

“I’m sure she can,” Jace said, immediately firing off a text to his boss. “And then maybe Brandon can show us those phones.”

Of course, the cops were going to want to see them. And take them into custody. After that, the phones and the texts would be swept up into an investigation, and Jace might not be privy to the details. He very much needed those details so he’d know what Kit, Brandon, and he were up against.

“Yes, the phones,” Brandon said, getting off the stool. “They’re in my bedroom. Let me get them.”

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