Page 8 of Shattered Dreams
“But along with that, we wanted to let you know we caught the shooter. Pure luck, but right after the shooting, he ran his rental into a light pole a few blocks over before abandoning the vehicle. The fool actually rented the car in his own name.”
“Who was it?” Storm seemed vaguely interested. “Do you need me to press charges? Or can you bring them on your own?”
Elliot shook his head. “He tested positive for gun residue and the semi-automatic found in the rental had his fingerprints on it. We can do that without you pressing charges. He endangered the public safety by shooting in a public space.” He reached into the folder he’d been carrying. Tugging out a mug shot of the suspect, he handed it to Storm. “Do you recognize this man, Mr. Parkers?”
Recognition flickered across Storm’s face before a bit of sadness. “Yeah…I do.” He handed the picture back to Elliot. “What the hell does Anton Martin have to do with any of this?”
The other man in the room, Storm’s agent if he remembered right, sighed. “That’s why I was trying to get a hold of you, Storm. Once he was arrested the first time, Anton went off his rocker and fixated on you. Bitching about how it wasn’t fair that he was being penalized for his tastes when yours were much worse. I told him he needed to worry about his own ass and not yours, but no matter what I did, he wouldn’t lay off it.” The agent rubbed the back of his neck. “When he threatened to kill you, I told him I was done and walked away. That’s when I tried to get a hold of you.”
“Well, hell.” Guilt flitted across Storm’s face. “I did nothing to Anton. We were never together or anything. We were friends in college.”
“Which is why I didn’t understand why he was always asking what you were up to when I flew out to L.A. for our meetings.” The agent continued.
“Jealousy. Who knows? I’ll make sure to give you my new cell number, so you don’t have to send Tony after me again.” Storm seemed tired now.
“Great!” The agent nodded. “I never understood why you got a new cell number and never gave it to me.”
Storm groaned. “Just leave. I’m tired and want to snuggle with my man before the doctors come in to prod on me some more.”
“Okay, okay we’re going.” The agent gave in graciously. He came to stand next to Elliot. “I’ll have Detective Landon send over any forms that need to be filled out tomorrow.”
Elliot refrained from saying anything as they left the room. But the image of the two men curled up together on the small hospital bed was seared into his brain. While he’d never come out of the closet as a bisexual in deference to his career and his wife, there was something alluring about the image. He closed his eyes at the thought of his late wife. She probably would’ve understood that he found himself as attracted to men as he’d been to women. Although he’d refused to act on it, first because he’d entered the Army right after he graduated high school, and the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy that ran rampant during the Clinton administration. He’d planned on making a career of it. Then he’d met Deborah a few years later, when they’d both been stationed at Fort ‘Lost in the Woods’ in Missouri, him for training with the Military Police and her for Corps of Engineering.
He’d taken one look at the petite, no nonsense redhead and fallen instantly in love with her. He needed to take care of her, in ways that at first made her uncomfortable. With time and gentle patience, he’d been able to show the fiercely independent woman, who could hold her own in a male dominated branch of the service, that allowing him to care for her in a way that most women’s libers would’ve been horrified by wasn’t wrong. Unfortunately, he was an old-fashioned man who believed in protecting his family and showing his woman the respect that his momma had drilled into his head long before he’d left for the military. Opening doors, pulling out chairs, and helping his wife with her coat was as second nature to him as breathing.Thank God Deborah never criticized me for it.
As soon as the door closed behind them, the agent turned toward him. “You’re not going to sell what you just saw to the media, are you?”
He schooled his features to reveal nothing. Was it the fact that Storm was obviously gay, or the bandaged knee that had the man asking him that? Instead of answering the question, he asked one of his own. “Why would I do that? I’m a Detective in the Aurora police department. I wouldn’t even know how to go about selling any juicy tidbit to the tabloids. As far as I’m concerned, Storm Parker was the victim of a tragic shooting by a deranged man.”
The agent gave a nod. “I’d hoped so, but as Storm’s agent, I can’t be too careful. There’s a lot of money riding on the line if it got out that he was openly gay. He has several conservative sponsors and-”
“Say no more. It won’t come from my lips.” Elliot held up a hand. “Although I will admit, however, they make a cute couple. I wish them the best as Storm recovers.” Personally, after talking briefly with Raine on the phone yesterday, he could tell the man was head over heels for the wide receiver and, after witnessing them together, it was obvious the feeling was mutual.
“So, you’re gonna send me the paperwork?” the agent asked.
“I’ll email the report and complaint for you to print off and have Storm sign. I’m assuming that you have a scanner and can send it back once he’s signed off on it.”
The man nodded. “Of course.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, what’s next - once all that’s done. Are you going to need Storm to testify?”
Elliot gave a shrug. “I’m not totally certain. That’s a call for the District Attorney. My job is to figure out who did it and give the evidence to the D.A.’s office, and they decide who to prosecute.” He glanced down at the battered watch that Deborah had given him. “I need to get going, I need to interview the other victim before my court appearance this afternoon.”
“Okay. Here’s my card.” The man dug a slim leather case out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “It has my email and phone number on it. Send whatever you need over, and I’ll make sure Storm signs everything.”
Accepting the card, he used one of the paperclips that he kept on the cover of his notebook to clip it to the page with all his notes concerning the case. “Will do.” He then gave the man a brisk nod before turning to head down the hall toward the room that had been assigned to Maxwell Rodkin. The butterflies in his stomach were a little disquieting, considering he should have no reason to feel one way or another about Lizzie’s husband.
* * *
Max rubbed his hand over his wife’s dark hair. Kneeling on a pillow on the floor next to his hospital bed, he took comfort in her presence. She’d immediately dropped to her knees the moment the doctor had left the room, which told him more than words could. He didn’t have to ask to know his submissive was at the end of her tether. The past forty-eight hours had to have been rough on her – and that was before Raine had stopped in and told him that Lizzie was still sleeping in the room they’d given her, and would find him when she woke up. He’d also revealed what he’d done the night before for his bestie. It looked as if, even though Raine was moving on to his forever master, he still cared deeply about Lizzie.Which is how it should be.
“Everything will be okay,” he muttered the words softly, reassuring her the only way he knew how. It wasn’t like he could draw her up onto his lap. Not with the shape he was in. “It’s gonna take a lot more than a crazed man to take me away from you.”
“I was scared, Master.” She cried quietly, her tears wetting the blanket next to his hip.
“I’m right here.” He kept up the reassurances. “And I know Raine stayed with you.”
“Yes, Master.” She came up a bit on her knees, obviously needing more contact with him.
He hissed a bit as the move jarred him, sending another wave of agony through him. The morphine they’d given him a couple of hours ago was obviously wearing off. “Easy, sweetheart. I’m a bit battered at the moment.”
