A Loaded Question

by Danica Winters

  The police officer rushed toward him as two more cars pulled up. The man patted him down, finding his holster. “Where is your weapon?”

  Troy looked up at the man. “It’s just inside the door. It’s fully loaded. I just responded after the shooter shot at my girlfriend’s place.”

  The police officer paused. “Where is your girlfriend?”

  “Can I sit up?” Troy asked, being careful to not sound disrespectful.

  “Keep your hands where I can see them and on your head. Got it?”

  Troy nodded and the man pulled him up to sitting, using his interlaced hands. “My girlfriend is an FBI agent, and the man upstairs was trying to shoot and kill her. Her name is Kate Scot. She’s with the Missoula field office.”

  The officer huffed and Troy wasn’t sure if it was because the man was annoyed at Kate or annoyed at him. Hell, maybe he was annoyed that he had arrived two minutes too late.

  “And what is your name? You FBI too?”

  Troy laughed. “No. The name’s Troy Spade. I’m a private contractor working with the Scot family.” He carefully skirted the truth as much as he dared. The officer didn’t need all the answers, at least not right now.

  “The man upstairs is dead. I checked his pulse, but that was the extent of my interaction with him. He was already deceased when I got here.”

  “So you say.” The officer pulled at his hands, motioning that he could relax. “You know why the dude was shooting at you and Kate?”

  “I think this is the sniper from the downtown shooting last week, but that’s yet to be proved. That being said, you probably know more about the investigation than I do.”

  The man holstered his weapon as several other officers descended on the house and the block and began clearing the area.

  “You have reason to believe there are any other active shooters in the area?” the officer asked.

  Troy shook his head, but then shrugged. “I cleared the house, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t others in the area. Right now, you need to send medical aid to Kate’s place. She took a round, but it wasn’t life-threatening. But the shooter got off more rounds while I was making my way over here. She shot back. I think she may have struck him. All self-defense,” he added, making sure to protect her. He rattled off her address as the man called it in on his handset.

  Troy needed to get back to her house and make sure that she was okay. “Can I go over there?”

  The officer scoffed. “Yeah, right. Think again, Mr. Spade.”

  The only people who ever called him Mr. Spade were those about to rain down some sort of punishment on him. Hopefully he wasn’t about to get his ass kicked or find himself heading to the clink.

  “You know Kate?” he asked.

  The officer nodded. “Good agent, good woman.”

  “I love her.” Troy was shocked as the words fell from his lips. “I mean... I haven’t told her that yet, but I love her, man. And I have to know she is okay. Have you ever loved a woman like that?”

  The officer chuckled.

  “If you have, then you have to know that even the threat of handcuffs and jail time isn’t going to stop me from going over there and making sure that she’s going to be okay. She’s been through a lot. And if she is lying there on the floor of her kitchen, shot and bleeding...and I didn’t do everything in my power to get to her, I would never forgive myself.” He put his palms up, pleading.

  “I don’t know.” The officer sighed.

  “Look, the last woman I fell in love with ended up dead. EFP and caught shrapnel. I watched the whole thing go down. I can’t stand the thought of losing another person I love. Not like that. Not like this. I can’t... She can’t be hurt.”

  The officer’s face softened. “Here’s the deal, Troy. I don’t think you are the one responsible for the dead dude, but...you know there are procedures in place that require me to handle this a certain way. But...let’s say you think that there is something I have to see, something at Kate’s place... Well, I’m sure I can make it work.”

  Troy jumped to his feet, a smile stretching over his face. “I owe you one.”

  “More than one,” the officer said. “And let me just say, you got it bad for Kate.”

  “Patsy Cline couldn’t have sung it better, man. I know exactly how crazy I am for loving her. I just hope she is just as crazy about loving me.”

  The officer laughed, the sound out of place in the manic motions that were taking place around them.

  Troy started jogging in the direction of Kate’s house. “We were cooking... Well...she was cooking breakfast when the shooting began. Did you call EMS? They en route to her?” Troy’s words came out fast as the officer jogged along next to him.

  “They are en route.” The officer started talking into his handset, letting the other officers know where he was and what he was doing.

  As they rounded the corner, there were already two police cruisers and a black BuCar he recognized as Agent Hunt’s.

  He slowed down his race toward the front door as he thought about the dead man. He should have taken a second to get a better look at the guy’s face. He thought he’d recognized him from Zoey’s info dump, but wasn’t quite sure. What if that guy was only one of a selection of snipers?

  Snipers typically acted alone, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t part of a team. For the right amount of money, a person could buy anything—or have anyone killed, not limited to a captain of industry like Solomon Scot or an FBI agent like his daughter.

  But who would be trying to take out the members of this family and why?

  Maybe that first shooting had been about him and his brother, and not about Kate, as he’d first suspected. This second shooting, though, had been about her.

  Someone was working sloppy here. It was like whoever was at the wheel and driving these attacks wasn’t used to doing this kind of work, but had one hell of a budget.

  That left Peahen out. An agent made good money, but they didn’t make that kind of money. And even if Peahen was getting paid by someone else, he was smart enough not to play sniper. Too many risks. It just didn’t fit his MO.

  The only people connected to the case, the ones with enough money to make a sniper happen—at least, the only ones he could think of—were those who were associated with ConFlux. Maybe there was someone on the board, someone who didn’t want them to come under investigation for leaked secrets... That would explain why he and Mike had been shot at. And it definitely explained why someone would shoot and kill Solomon.

  But why would they come after him and Kate?

  Were they getting too close to the answers? Did someone need to stop Troy and Kate before being exposed?

  Then again, the other two suspects both worked for ConFlux, and either could have been the sniper. And if one of them was the dead man in the manor, it was possible that he’d been working alone. Maybe he’d been the one selling secrets.

  Kate had said Sal was one of her father’s new hires. That moved him to the top of his personal suspects list. Damn—he wished he’d taken a picture of the dead shooter. He’d resembled Sal, but Zoey’s photo of him had been of a younger man, probably something taken earlier. Maybe he was working for a foreign government—a spy of some sort. Hell, it made sense.

  Zoey was probably having a tech field day with all of this.

  His mind was working a million miles an hour as he ran around to the open back door and made his way into the kitchen. The officer with him had pulled his weapon, and Troy appreciated the effort as the officer pushed past him and took point so they would both be protected if they unexpectedly came under fire.

  There were voices coming from the living room. Standing at the center was Kate. Agent Hunt had a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and was swabbing her ear with a rag. Troy pushed him aside.

  “Kate,” Troy said, taking her by the shoul
ders and looking her square in the eyes. “Are you okay? You didn’t get hit anywhere else, did you? You’re fine, right?” His words flooded from him as he looked her over, spinning her slightly as he looked for anywhere that could have been hurt.

  The only thing that appeared injured was the tip of her ear, where only a small patch of skin was missing.

  She smiled, relieved, and threw her arms around his neck. “Troy, I’m fine. Honey, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

  He breathed in her scent, pulling the smell of pancakes and her shampoo deep into his lungs. But beneath the soft aromas of her was the heady scent of fear. No matter what she said, or what she swore to, Kate was still afraid.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kate had killed a man. The locals had identified him as Sal Baker, an employee of ConFlux. Though they had a few answers, and the ballistics were all being handled by the FBI lab so they could get more, there were still too many questions, and only one real thought kept circulating through her mind... She had taken a person’s life two days ago.

  When she had taken on her role as a special agent with the Bureau, she had known that someday she would likely be faced with a situation in which she would have to possibly take a life. She had trained for hundreds of hours at the range over the years, to the point that calluses formed at the base of her thumb where her Glock’s beavertail rubbed against her skin every time she pulled the trigger.

  Yes, she was proficient with a handgun—more than capable, even—but she just couldn’t get over the reality that she had taken aim at a nearly invisible target, pulled that trigger and made the kill shot on her enemy.

  She didn’t regret her actions. Not when the man was trying to kill them. Troy had made a point of saying that he was there to protect her, and she secretly loved the fact that when push had come to shove, she was the one who had protected him.

  Maybe, in the future, if they were to really pursue a grown-up relationship, they could even face it together with some sort of pride.

  She would never forget the look on his face when he had found her standing in the living room... He’d seemed absolutely at a loss. Relieved, yes, but at the same time like he had never been more terrified in his entire life.

  In that moment, she had wanted to make him forget everything bad that had ever happened to him, and though she knew that not everything he had to have been feeling was tied to her, she wanted to take away all of his pain. If only she could. He had so many burdens, and they made all the seemingly terrible and heart-wrenching things that had ever happened to her pale in comparison. Really, what was a breakup in comparison to watching a loved one die?

  Her father’s murder came slamming back into her consciousness. For a split second, she had forgotten. How had she failed to recall the pain of losing him? Of seeing his body being wheeled out of his office building?

  Did it make her a terrible person that all she had been really thinking about was what she and Troy had just gone through?

  She stared at the far wall of her office. Though the SAC, Agent Raft, had told her to take the day off and stay home, focus on her family, it was the last thing she had wanted to do. Every time she peeked at her phone, there were messages from her mother, her sister and restricted numbers that she was more than sure belonged to the detectives and officers who were working on the task force and trying to solve all of these murders.

  Agent Hunt walked up beside her desk and tossed down a bag of sunflower seeds. “Here, champ, have one on me.”

  She laughed as she picked up the bag. “Thanks, man.”

  “You doing okay?” he asked.

  His question surprised her. He didn’t usually pry or ask questions when it came to anything beyond work. They were friends, but they both respected the fact that neither delved too deep. Both knew exactly what they needed to know about each other, and beyond that, anything else was only a liability.

  She nodded, opening the bag and stuffing a few seeds into the back of her cheek like they were some kind of pacifier. “Doing fine. One day at a time, am I right?”

  Hunt nodded. He paused and an awkward silence moved between them.

  “Something you wanted to tell me, Hunt?”

  He sat half on the corner of her desk. If anyone else did that, she would have been annoyed, but she liked Hunt too much to give a damn. He took in a deep breath, as if he was trying to decide whether or not he wanted to divulge a secret.

  “Just say it.” She couldn’t stand to think about what other shoe was about to drop.

  “I know you and Troy are...well, getting close.”

  She clenched. Since when did everyone know about her personal relationship? As soon as she asked herself the question, she realized that everyone in the entire city probably knew by now. Their story, the shooting and the sniper’s death had been the talk of every news outlet in the state for the last forty-eight hours, and she doubted that would stop anytime soon.

  She and Troy hadn’t seen each other since then. She had a lot to do in the aftermath of the shooting, and he’d texted her several times telling her he was happy to give her some space.

  She’d been careful to avoid watching any of the news coverage, but from what she had managed to glean, most media sources hadn’t seemed to say much about the nature of her and Troy’s friendship. But anyone who knew her knew exactly what had transpired—especially Hunt, who had borne witness to the look Troy had given her when he’d first seen her after the shooting.

  That look told her everything she needed to know about how Troy felt...and she felt it too. Though she hadn’t seen her own features, she was absolutely certain that she had been his mirror.

  “Are you jealous, Hunt?” she teased, though she was more than aware that Agent Hunt had a girlfriend.

  “Hardly. You and I are many things. Romantically inclined toward one another, we are not. But don’t think I wouldn’t take a bullet for you,” Hunt said, his voice unwavering and true.

  “So, what, then?” she asked, giving him a playful half smile.

  “Well, in an effort to take a bullet for you—I think I need to tell you something, before you get too hurt because of this thing with Troy.”

  Her stomach dropped and she was pretty sure every single drop of blood had just flooded into her feet. “Okay... What about him?”

  Hunt sucked in a breath, letting it out in a slow, metered exhalation. “So, I have been looking into him ever since the shooting downtown. I know he’s your friend, but has he told you anything about his past?”

  She thought about his accident. “What about his past?”

  “Well, you know he has been working private contracting?”

  “Yes. He’s currently with STEALTH. What about it?”

  “Did he tell you which company he worked with before that?” Hunt’s face pinched.

  She shook her head.

  “It was a company called Rockwood. You ever heard of it?”

  “No. Why?” A sickening lump formed in her throat.

  “Rockwood is a private contracting group. They work under the United Nations and are a big-time billion-dollar company that not many people in the public sector could name.” Hunt crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back slightly. “Your boy worked for them for quite a few years, doing what—I couldn’t find, but I’m sure with a few more phone calls I could at least get some basics.”

  She tried to swallow back the lump. “These guys, who work in the trade... There’s a lot of lateral movements between outfits. What’s your point?”

  Hunt sucked on his teeth. “Well, that guy you put down, Sal Baker, he worked for that outfit as well. You don’t think he was aiming at Troy all along, do you? Or—” Hunt paused “—you don’t think that Troy and/or his team are playing us all for fools, do you?”

  She laughed at the outrageous conjecture. “That’s crazy, Hunt. Seriously, that’s a
bit of a stretch, don’t you think? That’s like saying you’re more loyal to your first boss than the Bureau.”

  He answered with the quirk of an eyebrow. “Is it? I’ve been thinking about it...and here is this guy who has admitted to trying to break into ConFlux. What if he and Sal were working together?”

  The lump grew larger. “No...”

  “Did he or did he not get you to walk him up to your father’s office?”

  She had. Kate had literally opened the door and gotten him waved past security. Who knew what he had done when he’d been alone in the intern’s office?

  “Okay, let’s say they were working for the same team. Why would Sal bear down on us in my kitchen?”

  “Us? Or you?”

  There was some validity in what Hunt was saying, but she refused to admit the possibility that Troy would act in any way that would go against her. It wasn’t possible. Not after what had happened between them—after how he had made her feel.

  Or had he been using her heart against her? Had she been honeypotted by the man?

  She ran her finger over the scab that had formed where she had been hit by the sniper’s round. Troy had convinced her that Sal wasn’t a great sniper, and she had gone along with it—what kind of sniper couldn’t hit their target at around a hundred yards? It shouldn’t have been a very difficult shot, and even an amateur shooter could have made it.

  Though they had all discussed the logistics of the shooter’s trajectory and path, the task force and investigating officer had agreed that it was likely a case of a poor-quality shooter. But what if that wasn’t what had happened after all? What if she was only supposed to get a notch in the ear?

  Had Troy treated her like a lamb and brought her to the slaughter?

  Her entire body turned cold, but she wasn’t sure if it was out of sheer terror or rage. “I need to go.” She stood up, leaving her suit jacket on the back of her chair. “Oh, and call Peahen. I need to talk to him. I think I owe him an apology.”