Crisis of Conscience, page 5
part #11 of Alexis Parker Series
“Are you okay?” Mark asked.
“Fine.”
“Is Marty?”
“No. The asshole grazed him.”
“Did you get a look at the shooter?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be sitting here answering these inane questions.”
“Calm down. I’m not here to pick a fight.” His focus shifted to my wrist briefly, but he didn’t comment. “Did you tell O’Connell everything?”
“Yep.”
He nodded. “Okay, I’ll copy the security cam footage. At least Marty’s got state-of-the-art gear. It should make a positive identification that much easier. Why the hell did the two of you run outside like a couple of morons?”
“He thought his town car was on fire. Marcal was supposed to drive us to brunch, but we cancelled last minute. Martin thought he was already here and might be trapped in the car. We didn’t notice the plates until after shots were fired.”
“It doesn’t make sense. The shooter had ample time to fire on both of you while you were preoccupied with the car, but he waited.”
“If Martin didn’t point out the laser sight, I’m not sure we’d be having this conversation or any conversation for that matter.”
“But Marty thinks he’s the target.”
“He’s the one bleeding. Look, we need to get this figured out, and in order to do that, we need to have a word in private.” I stood, leading Mark into the second floor suite and closing the door. The room contained the bulk of my furniture and belongings, and I took a seat on my couch, feeling more in control surrounded by familiar items. “O’Connell raised an interesting point that if Martin’s wrong and I was the target, it’d have to be someone aware of my connection to Martin and my current condition. The only people with access to that knowledge are the people we work with.”
“Oh for god’s sake, I know that right now you hate the job and you hate me because of it, but get real, Alex.”
“I spoke to Lucca several nights ago. An internal leak means my information isn’t secure. It could also mean the mole might decide to thin the herd. However, Eddie wouldn’t tell me much more than the basics. I don’t know if he’s close to identifying the problem. I don’t even know if this is legit or just some witch hunt, but you’re in the loop. So I need you to make sure this is nothing more than paranoia talking.”
“We’ll run a threat assessment, but I don’t honestly believe anyone we work with poses a danger to you.”
I snorted. “Are you sure you weren’t hiding in the bushes and firing potshots just to convince me to come back sooner?”
“If I knew it’d work, I might have, but I know you. I’m guessing this is just your next excuse to avoid the job even longer. After all, you have to make sure Marty’s safe,” he said bitterly. He shook his head and opened the door. “It’s just another one of your infernal hang-ups. One day, Parker, you need to take a hard look at your life and the way you are and figure out what it is you want because the rest of us are too damn tired and confused to argue with you about it anymore.”
Going into the kitchen, I took a seat next to Martin and ran my hand along his back. He smiled slightly while continuing to give out names and addresses of potential persons of interest to Thompson. After that was done, the next issue was preventing a repeat attack. The police had a lot of information to analyze and investigate, and I knew the OIO would conduct their own investigation on the sidelines just to make sure everything tracked. But that didn’t mean the shooter wouldn’t return in the meantime to finish what he started.
“We can beef up patrols,” O’Connell said, “but it won’t make much of a difference. Maybe the OIO can have a few agents sit on the place.” He looked at Mark.
“We can,” Jablonsky said. “It’s up to Alex, but it’d probably be best to get out of Dodge for a while.”
“You mean leave town?” Martin asked.
“No, I mean stay elsewhere. Until we’re positive you’re the target and this wasn’t a random act of violence or a failed burglary attempt, it might be best to stay in a hotel. Someplace public with decent security and somewhere no one would necessarily know to look for you.”
“We’ve done it before,” Martin said, looking at me. “It could be just like old times.”
“Don’t say that. The last time that happened, you almost died.” I turned to Nick. “What about a safe house or protective custody?”
“We don’t know enough to authorize that,” Thompson responded. “Lieutenant Moretti could pull a few strings, but a few extra patrols are about all we can guarantee at this point. I’m sorry, Parker.”
Martin gawked at me. “You’d seriously consider voluntarily going into protective custody?” He shifted his gaze to O’Connell and Thompson. “To clarify, that most definitely won’t be necessary, gentlemen.”
Nick snorted. “Roger that.” He jerked his head toward the door. “We should get started on this. Just keep your phone on. I’ll call once we know something.”
“Thanks.” Martin walked them to the door. After they left, he returned to the kitchen. “I gave Marcal and Rosemarie the rest of the week off while we figure this out. Bruiser’s contacting a few of his Navy buddies to provide additional security. I guess we ought to pack a few bags and figure out where we want to stay for the next couple of days.”
“I’ll make sure you get settled and have a talk with hotel security,” Mark said, narrowing his eyes at me. “Y’know, Parker, if you were back at work, you could make sure our guys were putting a rush on processing the evidence.”
“I’m sure you’re capable of handling that too.” Leaving the table, I headed for the stairs. It was time to pack.
Six
“This is ridiculous.” Martin stood inside the closet, staring at his racks of suits. “Y’know what? I don’t want to leave. This is my house, and I will be damned if some shithead is going to scare me off.”
“Martin, it’s for the best.”
He spun, narrowing his eyes. “Wow, you’re just full of surprises today.”
Throwing up my hands in exasperation, I stepped away from the dresser. “Fine, we’ll stay. Go tell Jablonsky we’ll wait around for the guy to come back at which point we’ll politely ask him who he is and why he’s committing arson in front of your house and shooting at us, well, you since he never actually fired on me. Hell, next time, just duck down and use me as a human shield instead of pulling me out of the way since you’re so damn certain you pissed someone off again.”
“I don’t want you to save me.” The comment came out of left field, or at least as far as I was concerned it did. “We’ve gone down that road. It nearly destroyed you, and it drove a wedge between us.”
“So your solution is to stay here and be rifle fodder?”
“No,” he rubbed a hand through his hair, “I don’t know. Dammit.” He blinked a few times, shaking off whatever conflicting thoughts he was having. “How insane is it that I just want to toss you onto the bed and forget this is happening?”
“It’s not that crazy. Side effect of the adrenaline rush and the rest of the hormones and chemicals coursing through you right now. However, let’s table that thought for now. Playtime’s over, handsome.”
“Alex, what are we supposed to do?”
“Hope O’Connell and Thompson get an ID on this guy. Once we find out who he is, we’ll be able to figure out his motive.”
“It’s just like last time. I walked away from my company because it was supposedly for the best, and then these assholes come out of the woodwork to take me out. Shit, we should probably investigate Luc Guillot as our primary suspect right off the bat.”
“I don’t think Luc is an evil genius. I’ve been to his house. We’ve gone out with him and his wife. They have a son. If anything, he’d want to work less, not more. He doesn’t want your company. He’s happy being VP. Hell, the man wants a vacation, and hiring someone to shoot you isn’t going to give him a vacation. It’d probably just give him an ulcer. Plus, something’s going on at the OIO that might have something to do with this.”
“What is it?” Stepping away from the closet, Martin came closer, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Does it have anything to do with your reluctance to return?”
“I don’t know much. Lucca’s mentioned some things, but he won’t disclose anything concrete until I’m back.”
“Is that why you’re avoiding going back?”
“You know why I’m avoiding it.” I turned toward the window, relieved the blinds were closed and the curtains were drawn. “I’m scared.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “And this afternoon didn’t help matters. That’s why you asked about protective custody.”
“I guess. I just need the false sense of security.” I turned back to him. “We had it here until that car alarm sounded, but we had a good run this past week. Blissful normalcy. I’m going out on a limb and guessing that’s how vacation works for most couples. It was nice to be like everyone else, at least for a little while.”
“Sweetheart,” he wanted to say something comforting, but we were in the same boat, “I don’t know why this is happening, but I’m all for taking back our bliss.” He took a deep breath and marched back to the closet. “Tonight, we stay at a hotel. Tomorrow, we come up with a plan to take our lives back. Sound good?”
“Perhaps too good or just too easy.”
“It’s about time something was easy.”
“Besides you?” I asked.
He turned around, a playful glint in his eye. “Touché.”
* * *
Martin didn’t sleep a wink the entire night. I’d know since I spent the evening staring through the darkness, studying every aspect of our hotel room and listening to the muffled sounds that traveled through the suite. Bruiser was camped out in the main room, watching television and keeping an eye on things. He and Jablonsky had found another two guys to keep watch, and after a quick, yet thorough, vetting process, they were stationed across the hallway on standby if we needed them.
As soon as first light peeked through the window coverings, I stretched. Martin opened his eyes, as if that act would convince me he had slept, and focused on me. I pretended not to notice. I knew what needed to be done. Talking about it would only make it worse.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“The OIO.”
“What?” He sat up. “What about physical therapy and requalifying with your weapon? You can’t go back to work. You said they have to clear you.”
“They’ll clear me,” I mumbled, not turning around while I pulled clothes from the suitcase.
“Alex, no.” Martin came up from behind and shoved the lid on the suitcase down. “You’re not doing this.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I wasn’t telling you what to do. I was telling you what not to do.” He fastened the closure on the luggage. “Don’t do this. Not now. Not because of this or because of me.”
“It’s the same thing, and I’m not just doing it for you. I was there too. It’s time. I should have gone back weeks ago. You know it. I know it. Life goes on. This was just the kick in the ass I needed.”
“You’re full of crap.” He took my face in his hands. “I know why you haven’t gone back. Look, I can’t pretend to understand what it’s like to have your job or be expected to do what you do, so I can’t fathom what it must be like to be convinced that the job comes with an expiration date. But I do know if you truly believe that, you shouldn’t be going back to work now. Maybe not ever.”
“Maybe it doesn’t matter.” I grasped one of his hands. “I don’t know if you believe in fate or some kind of cosmic time’s up.” I snorted. “Do you think that’s something we should discuss before we get married?”
He smiled. “Don’t change the subject.”
“The point is it doesn’t matter what I do. Hell, even if we ran off to live on a deserted island, somehow, something horrific would happen to blow us apart. We’d probably end up with a nuclear sub threatening a missile launch or a hurricane that would sweep us away. Hiding isn’t the answer, but at least at the OIO, I’ll have access to information. We can get answers.”
“What are you planning on doing?”
“I’ll sweet talk my way back to active duty. Then I’ll check on the progress the OIO has made, stop by the precinct and get some answers from our favorite detectives, and figure out if we need a protection detail or if Bruiser and his buddies can handle this.” I shrugged. “You said we’d come up with a plan to get our lives back. I’ve been racking my brain all night, and this is what I came up with. Do you have any better ideas?”
He sighed. “Not really.” He pulled me into his arms for a hug. “I don’t want you to fix my problems. I don’t want to be the one who does this to you. Frankly, I’d like to punch Mark’s daylights out for giving you such a hard time about work. At this rate, I’ll have to knock myself out too since I’m to blame.”
“No, you’re not.” I pulled away. “I would have ended up back at work eventually anyway. You know I’m too stubborn to quit, especially when there’s a puzzle that needs solving. Lucca asked for my help, and since he has no idea how to run an investigation, I would have caved eventually. It just so happens now I’m going back for more than him. I’m doing this for me.”
“Only because of my problems. I don’t want you to do this.”
“It’s not for you. It’s for us.” I kissed him gently. “Call it an engagement gift.”
“If you really want to do something for me, then don’t do this. In fact, do anything but this.”
“Martin,” I sighed, growing agitated with this domineering, broken record routine of his, “it’s just one more case. It’s not the end of the world.”
“Are you sure?”
I wasn’t, but I was done arguing. He was concerned. He was tired. He was annoyed and frustrated. And we were both pissed at the circumstances that had led to this discussion. At least I had the foresight not to take it out on him. Instead, I opened the suitcase, finished grabbing my clothes, and went into the bathroom.
“If you promise not to say another word about this, you can join me.” I tossed a look over my shoulder, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t take me up on the offer. And as usual, I was right. Too bad he couldn’t see the irony in that.
When I emerged, showered, dressed, and willing to bluff my way through whatever torment awaited, I found Martin at the table across from Bruiser. The two men were leaning forward, speaking in hushed tones, with a map of the property and printed photos from the security cams on the table between them. I was a trained investigator, but even I knew looking at some footage and staring at the layout of the property wasn’t going to lead to any solid answers. Martin wanted a solution fast, but despite his wealth and influence, he couldn’t make answers appear out of thin air. The last time he tried, he had hired me, and we all know how that turned out. I snorted; perhaps that’s why he didn’t want me looking into this matter.
“Did you order breakfast?” I asked.
Martin looked up and met my eyes. “I figured you were in too much of a rush to wait for it to be delivered.”
“I brewed a pot of coffee,” Bruiser offered, jerking his head at the hotel provided machine, “but fair warning, it has a kick.”
“I’ll pass.” My eyes bore into Martin’s. “Wow, you’d seriously deprive me of a last meal?”
“That’s not funny.” He held my gaze, but we were at a stalemate.
“Fine. Whatever. I shouldn’t eat beforehand anyway. With my luck, they’ll want me to run the entire course instead of just scoring on the firing range.” I picked up my bag, checked the clip in my gun, and made sure I had a room key. “Are you planning on staying here until I get back?”
“Probably.”
“Great.” Without another word, I left the room, slamming the door behind me. The neighboring door opened, and one of Bruiser’s pals, who I decided to nickname Brawler, poked his head out. “Can’t a girl get a moment’s peace without being scrutinized by some guy?”
Brawler raised an eyebrow and shut the door. After doing such a fine job of spreading joy and cheer this morning, it was about time I went to work and did the same. Depending on how things went, I’d bring more of the merriment with me to the precinct.
On my way out of the hotel, I dialed O’Connell and left a voicemail that he should keep any updates on the case under wraps until we spoke. I didn’t want or need Martin poking around in this or making more trouble for himself. There was the distinct possibility he was the target, and he needed to keep his head down until the coast was clear. On the off chance this was about me and the problems inside the OIO, then Martin definitely didn’t need to be involved. I’d handle it, even though he didn’t want me to. Once a security consultant, always a security consultant. It was no wonder I had spent so long insisting we keep our relationship strictly professional and struggled to fend off his advances. If I had stuck with my guns, we wouldn’t be in this predicament now. Then again, I loved him, and I couldn’t quantify that compared to this.
“Damned if you do,” I murmured, handing the valet a tip and getting behind the wheel of my subcompact.
On the drive to the office, I phoned Lucca and told him I was on board. I had a feeling by agreeing to help in his mission, he’d be more compliant with assisting me with my current problem. Then I gave the doctor a call and told him I had experienced a sudden, vast improvement in my symptoms and wanted to get everything checked out immediately.
Parking the car, I flexed my fingers and wrist and took a deep breath. I just needed a few minutes of perfection in order to pass the exam and the shooting proficiency test. Then I’d take the paperwork to Jablonsky and Director Kendall, have them sign off on it, and I’d be back behind my desk within the hour. Once there, I’d spend the bare minimum getting caught up on the latest happenings before calling in a few favors or cashing in some chits I’d saved for a rainy day. It’d be fine. Everything would be perfectly fine. Damn, if that wasn’t some optimistic bullshit.
