Page 128 of Guarding Grace
Duke was at a nearby desk, providing extra support in case those idiots decided to take another run at us. He waved discreetly, and I nodded back.
“Duke claimed battle amnesia,” Wellbourne said, “about what happened beyond the fact that the one guy you hit and two more who escaped began firing at everything in sight, and you two didn’t do anything to provoke them, which I highly doubt. Were they unhappy clients shooting at you and Duke, or was it the girl?”
Since he didn’t know about Elliot, I wasn’t bringing him up, but Wellbourne’s question was a good one.
Before this, they had wanted Grace alive as leverage to get to Elliot, so shooting at her didn’t make sense. If Elliot had stolen the case, how did killing him advance their cause? That didn’t make sense either.
“Tell me what’s going on,” the lieutenant prodded. “Why does that girl need Hawk-level protection in the first place? Who’s after her?”
“Her name is Grace Brennan, Pete Brennan’s sister. Pete and Lucas served together.”
I didn’t need to say more than that for him to understand why she was getting Hawk protection, and invoking Lucas’s name would shorten this discussion. Lieutenant Wellbourne owed Lucas more than he could ever repay, which came in handy in situations like today. Duke and I had both discharged our weapons, but neither of us would be getting more than an interview.
Wellbourne nodded. “I knew Pete—good guy.”
“He was,” I agreed, keeping it in the past tense. “Did you ID the guy on the street yet?” I asked.
“We’ll get to that. Who shot him?”
“Who does he work for? Did you figure that out?”
He didn’t give in. “How did this start?”
Keeping the Russo and Marku names out of this would make our lives easier. “Well, Duke…” I pointed to the demo room door. “…Grace and I drove into the parking lot, and the guys across the street started shooting as soon as we exited the vehicle. Duke and I returned fire. That’s the whole story. There were three shooters in total. I hit that guy down on the street and winged another who drove off with the third. The escape vehicle was a black Suburban. It left southbound.”
“Plate?”
“Too far for me to see, and we were busy ducking a lot of lead.” I tried again. “Who’s the guy and who does he work for?”
With a sigh, he gave in. “He’s part of a contract hit team in from Houston.”
I nodded as if I expected that answer when I really expected a Russo or Marku connection. “How did you figure out the Houston angle so quickly?”
“We got lucky with a traffic cam down the street. The black SUV was a rental picked up at the airport this morning, and the fake ID used to rent it was in the pocket of the guy you laid out on the street. He was traveling with two men.”
“That tracks. They emptied several clips at us.”
“The crime scene guys picked up thirty-seven casings from that side of the street so far. It’s like it was fucking Beirut down there. You guys can’t go shooting up the city like this.”
“Trust me, it’s different in Beirut. There, the tangos also carry RPGs. And we didn’t start this. We only returned fire.”
“I’m going to need your gun. How many clips did you expend?”
I pulled out my weapon, released the clip, cleared the chamber, and set the lot down on the desk for him. “I fired three shots total.”
“You’re kidding. Two hits out of three shots at that distance with a pistol?”
“Snipers don’t kid,” I deadpanned. “We practice.”
He shook his head, then nodded toward the demo room. “So what’s she mixed up in?”
“She is not ‘mixed up’…” I added air quotes. “…in anything. She felt threatened, and we are providing protection.”
“It’s pretty heavy-duty to get a get contract hit team sent after her. Who has threatened her and how?”
“What makes you assume she was the target?”
“Are you saying you guys were the target?”
