Page 32 of Bringing Chelsea Home

“Nice hat,” Clark said, resuming his place. Around them, people mingled, throwing coins into the wishing well or buying sweets from a fund-raiser’s table. A man in sunglasses and a yellow jacket marked STAFF on the back swept leaves onto a nearby mound of grass.

“Thanks,” she said. “Just bought it.”

“You said you wanted to talk business,” Griff cut in. “So. Let’s talk. Tell us aboutThe Honeys.”

“I’m thinking, since your friends want them so badly, you might pony up some more money,” Clark stated without preamble. “I’ll need to find some replacements for the other parties and that would cost, you know?”

“How much money are we talking?” Griff studied his nails.

“What can you offer?” Clark demanded. “I’m taking a huge risk even meeting with you if Collins finds out.Abernathy Enterpriseshas deep pockets, so I know you can afford it.”

“Collins?” Griff repeated. “Obidiah Collins? You mean Big Daddy?”

“Yeah, he’s one ofSapphire’snew owners and investors,and one mean dude.” Clark took a quick glance over his shoulder. “The kind you don’t fuck with. Didn’t you see him when you left the other day? Big muscley guy, built like a brick shithouse. He’s my new boss and he sure don’t need to know about our little agreement.”

“So, you’re double crossing your boss?” Griff asked. “Guess there’s only one thing a man can say–”

The now too familiar crack of a gun split the air as the man in the yellow jacket threw aside his broom, took a pistol from his pocket and fired in their direction. A screaming Clark fell onto the pavement.

“Down!” Griff shouted, shoving Elaine off the bench, and taking out his weapon. Around them, panicked people ran in all directions as the undercover officers drew their weapons and crouching low, moved forward.

The shooter wheeled, fired twice and both undercovers went down. He tossed his weapon aside and took off. Griff bolted after him as screaming onlookers threw themselves to the ground or crawled under tables. Griff’s breathing was coming hard and fast, his knee burning with every step. He pushed harder, gaining ground until he could almost hear his quarry’s own breathing. Another few steps, and he could grab–

But in a burst of speed, the man shot forward, rounded a corner, and dove through the open door of an idling car, waiting by the library. It screeched off, leaving the scent of oil and burning rubber and one very angry Griff.

“Damnation!” he roared, putting his gun away. “By all hell’s devils!”

“Holy Mother,” Miller gasped, joining him. “Did you get a good look at him?”

“White guy.” Griff sucked in a lungful of air. “Medium build, shorter than us, but no good look at his face because of the freakin’ sunglasses. What about your guys?”

“Wearing the newest body armor,” Miller replied, wiping his forehead with his arm. “They said they were alright, but EMS had just arrived, so I came after you. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“These shoes were not designed for running,” Griff complained as they hurried back to the square where it looked as if half of the city’s police force was there, with people giving statements from under store awnings, benches, or restaurant tables. No doubt the bars would be doing brisk business later.

EMS was there too, loading a moaning Clark into the vehicle. A female EMS worker was talking to Elaine, who gave him a thumb’s up. He nodded in return and followed Miller to talk to the undercovers. Two EMS technicians were going over them, but while pale, the men were sitting up with no visible signs of injury. “Are you guys alright?” Griff asked.

“Yeah,” said one. “First time we’ve used the new body armor. Those bullets kicked like my grandpappy’s mule, but we’re still here. Bruised, but still here.”

“The vests were a gift from your boss at Brotherhood Protectors,” said the other. “In return for the help we gave them earlier this year. Tell him thanks.”

“Our pleasure,” Griff told them. “I’ll let him know.”

He headed back to Elaine. She was seated on the bench, holding what looked to be a cup of coffee and talking to the EMS worker. An aproned woman stood nearby holding another cup.

“You really need to let me put your arm in a sling, Ms. Prescott,” the EMS worker advised. “That was a nasty fall you took.”

“I’ll be fine,” Elaine said. But her lips were pressed together, and her features were tight with what he guessed was a lot of pain. She looked at him and the glitter in her eyes suggested she was not the happiest woman on the planet. And not because-with his help-she’d fallen off the bench. He gave his attention to the EMS technician and asked, “Is she injured?”

“Her left arm is gonna be hurting tomorrow from where she hit the ground,” the woman said. “Probably some bruising, so she should try to keep it still.”

Elaine stared at Griff again. “That will be two of us injured,” she said grimly. “Though some of us had the sense to stay where we were.”

“I’ll take care of her,” he promised, and the woman picked up her kit and went to join her colleagues.

“Here’s another cup of coffee, Ms. Prescott,” the woman said. “It’s on the house.”

“Thank you,” Elaine told her, and she too moved away.

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