Rolling Thunder

by Matt Lincoln

  “What?” he interrupted with a strangled shout. “What shooter? My sources said you only found a dead body, not the actual killer!”

  Well, double crap. He didn’t even know about last night until she’d opened her big mouth. She thought for a moment and realized that he shouldn’t even know about the first body unless he’d been snooping… which he’d basically just admitted to.

  “Hold on, Donald,” she said. “What sources?”

  His silence was guilty enough to tell her plenty.

  “Donald? I’d like an explanation.”

  A heavy sigh came through the phone. “Okay, just calm down,” he said. “It was for your own protection.”

  She had a bad feeling about this. “What did you do?”

  “Tessa…” He paused again. “When I heard you were caught up in a murder investigation, I hired a private security company to keep an eye on you.”

  “Oh my God,” she gasped. The man who’d been following her… Donald had sent him. And now he was dead.

  “I wanted to make sure you were safe,” he went on, mistaking her horrified shock for anger. “Then I got a call from the company a few hours ago, telling me that their agent hadn’t checked in. When I couldn’t reach you—”

  “Donald, wait,” she interrupted forcefully. “Listen. Do you know the name of the man they sent here for me?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got it here somewhere. Hang on.” She heard a brief rustling in the background. “It’s Gordon Traynor.”

  Her blood ran cold. “He’s dead,” she whispered.

  “He’s what?” Donald roared on the other end of the phone. “Tell me that’s not the shooting you were talking about.”

  “It is, but don’t worry, I’m fine,” she said with a little more strength in her voice. “I noticed him following me, and…” She stopped and shivered. If she told Donald the whole story, how she’d seen a man killed right in front of her and dodged a second shot meant for her, he’d flip out and probably come down here to drag her back to New York personally.

  Besides, she couldn’t actually leave because of the first body.

  “You should come home, Tessa. Right now,” Donald said when she didn’t continue.

  “No. I can’t,” she told him. “I’m a witness, and they need me here. Plus I have a job to do.”

  “Screw your job! I’m putting you on the first plane back—”

  “I’m not leaving,” she said with quiet force. “Donald, I’m perfectly fine. There are police guarding me twenty-four-seven, and Agent Marston is protecting me. I have to stay.”

  His pause seemed calmer this time, and she started to hope she’d gotten through to him. “Okay,” he finally said. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but I won’t make you come home. Yet. But I want to speak with this agent of yours, and you’d better keep your phone on you at all times. Understand?”

  “I will.” She managed not to roll her eyes. “Please don’t worry.”

  “You know I’m going to,” he said, but she could hear at least a little bit of relief in his voice. “Should I assume you’re going to extend your stay since I’m guessing you haven’t been able to get back to your shoot yet?”

  She smiled. “Yes, please.”

  “I’ll contact the hotel, then. Just be careful, will you? And make sure Ethan contacts me as soon as possible.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you later tonight, Donald.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  They said goodbye and hung up, and Tessa took a few minutes to compose herself before she resumed the search for her sandals. Eventually, she found them in the closet, the bag half-hidden under her smaller suitcase.

  She was fastening the strap on the second sandal when she realized that Donald had asked for ‘Ethan’ to call him… but she’d never said that name. All she told him was Agent Marston.

  For a moment, she considered calling Donald back and demanding an explanation. The thought was driven from her head when she heard raised voices coming from just outside the room and then someone started banging on the door.

  Her heart stopped. Paranoia kicked in, and she wasted precious seconds looking almost frantically around the bedroom, trying to decide whether she should hide in the bathroom or under the bed, or maybe make a run for the balcony. No, this suite was on the fourth floor. She couldn’t jump that far.

  A loud bang came from the main room. Her breath caught, and it didn’t start again until a familiar voice shouted, “Tessa! Where are you?”

  “In here,” she called immediately on a tremendous exhale. It was Ethan. She took a few steps toward the bedroom door, but her legs started shaking and she changed course to sit hard on the edge of the bed. If the shooter didn’t kill her, the adrenaline rushes would.

  It was less than a minute before Ethan rushed through the door on high alert, one hand on the gun in his holster. He scanned the room quickly, and then met her wide-eyed stare with worried eyes.

  “You alright?” he asked gruffly.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she said. “You scared me. What happened?”

  “Apparently, nothing.” The tension drained from his body, and he crossed the room to stand in front of her, a slight frown on his face. “Sorry about that. I got a tip that…” He trailed off as his gaze raked her, and his jaw clenched as he swallowed almost imperceptibly. “You look amazing.”

  An unexpected smile lit her face. “Thank you.”

  “I guess you’re ready for dinner, then?” he asked with a gorgeous, crooked grin.

  She let out a startled laugh. “You burst in here like you think I’m dead, about to draw your gun, and now you want to go out to dinner?”

  “Well, yeah. I’m hungry.” That devil-may-care smile of his remained in place. “If you’re sure you’re okay, I think we should go.”

  “Without talking about this?”

  “We can talk over dinner.”

  This time, she detected just a hint of strain beneath the words, a low current he was trying to stem for her benefit. For some reason, he wanted her out of this hotel room right away.

  Considering the way he’d exploded into the suite, she suspected he had a good reason.

  “Okay. Let’s go,” she said with a forced bright tone. “I just need to grab a few things.”

  She swiped her purse from the nightstand, tucked her phone and charger inside. When she nodded at Ethan, he started from the room, and she grabbed the sweater she’d decided against earlier on the way out.

  Maybe she’d need it tonight, after all.

  Chapter 23

  Officers Gilliam and Burks had been back on shift outside Tessa’s door when I arrived at the hotel. I hadn’t given them much of a reason for my concern, but they insisted on following us to the restaurant and keeping watch from outside. That was fine with me. Right now as far as I was concerned, the more eyes on her, the better.

  I did feel bad about leaving Holm behind, but at least I’d told him the whole story. Not that he hadn’t heard what Benta said from observation and was ready to kick the guy’s ass just as hard. He’d stayed at the office to bring the suspect back to holding and finish the paperwork.

  It hadn’t been easy twisting his arm to take the rest of the night off when he was finished, but he’d eventually agreed. Only because he said he’d feel like a third wheel if he joined us for dinner.

  Despite the whole lot of nothing that had been happening at the hotel when I got there, I was still tense. I’d relaxed somewhat when I had Tessa safely in my car and we were headed for downtown Miami. There was actually a good chance that Benta had been bluffing about flashing her picture around to his friends since most of them were likely to be on Nassau. He’d also undoubtedly wanted a way to get a rise out of me. Still, I wouldn’t risk believing that she was completely safe until I had Cobra Jon firmly in custody.

  The Black Mambas had to be de-fanged, and I was going to make sure that happened.

  “So,” Tessa said once we’d picked up speed on the h
ighway, “are you going to tell me what all that was about, or do I have to guess? Oh, and there’s something I need to tell you, too.”

  I glanced aside at her with a raised eyebrow. “You first.”

  “Oh, no. I’m not the one who busted down your door looking to shoot someone,” she said with a smile. “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

  I tried not to let my mind put any kind of spin on those words. While I still wanted to take her out just for pleasure, part of this had to be business now. That dress she was wearing definitely did not help me focus on the working part of this relationship, though.

  “Okay, fine,” I breathed. “I told you that we have the shooter in custody.”

  She gave a small, worried nod. “Did he escape?”

  “Hell, no. I’d have sent the Marines and a couple of SWAT teams to get you if he did,” I told her, only half joking. Agay Benta wasn’t worth dispensing that much firepower, but Cobra Jon just might be. “No, he just said something during the interview that… concerned me.”

  “Interview,” she mused. “Is that what you call an interrogation when you’re trying not to scare civilians?”

  The comment startled a laugh from me. “Didn’t know you were into the lingo.”

  “Hey, you’re looking at a bona fide military brat,” she said proudly as she pointed to herself. “I don’t know a lot about the agencies, except that they work with the military pretty regularly, and a lot of them are ex-military themselves, like you. I’m guessing Navy?”

  Color me impressed. “Good guess,” I said. “You’re right.”

  “I knew it.” She smiled. “So, you were saying about the interrogation?”

  This time, I laughed for real. “You’re not going to let me out of this, are you? Okay, the interrogation. Benta claimed that some of his friends might know what you look like, and he made a strong suggestion that they could come after you.”

  She shivered, and I almost regretted my honesty, even though I knew that the best way to protect her now was to make sure she knew what was going on. That way, she’d be more likely to notice if something seemed off and react to it.

  “Benta,” she said quietly. “Is that the killer’s name?”

  I nodded. “Agay Benta. His nickname is Sniper.”

  “My God.” The words were nearly a whisper. “He really was trying to kill me.”

  “Yes, but he didn’t, and he won’t. Not as long as I’m breathing,” I told her firmly. “Trust me, I plan on breathing for a long time, and that means you’ll keep breathing too.”

  She laughed a little, and some of the tension drained away. “Thank you. For protecting me, I mean.”

  “You’re welcome.” I flashed a smile at her. “I hope you know that’s not the only reason I agreed to dinner tonight.”

  Her breath caught, and a flush crept into her cheeks, suggesting she had been thinking that… until now.

  “Where are we going for dinner, anyway?” she said after a long pause.

  “Oh, no. You said you had something to tell me. I showed you mine, remember?”

  Her answering laugh was musical. “You’re right. It’s only fair. I have to tell you, anyway, because it’s related to the case. Well, one of them, anyway. Maybe both.”

  Suddenly I was tense all over again. “What do you mean, related?”

  “It’s about Gordon Traynor.” Tessa sighed. “I’ll never forget his name as long as I live. That poor man is dead because of me,” she finished in a tormented whisper.

  I wanted to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault. After what Benta had told me, I knew it was pure greed that got Traynor killed, but I had to hear what she was getting at first.

  She stared through the windshield and blinked a few times. “I know who had him following me. It was my editor. Somehow, he learned about me finding that body, and he got worried. So, he hired the security company to protect me. Not Gordon personally,” she added quickly, as if that mattered for some reason. “That’s just the guy the assigned.”

  Okay, that seemed a bit of an extreme measure for a boss to pay for that kind of protection for an employee. “Tessa, why would your editor go to the trouble of putting a private security detail on you?”

  “Um.” She bit her lip and glanced at me. “That’s just the way he is. Uncle Donald is a little overprotective of me.”

  “He’s your uncle?”

  “Well, not really. We’re not related, but I’ve called him Uncle Donald since I was little. He’s actually my godfather.” She squirmed in embarrassment. “I don’t usually tell people that, because I don’t want them to think I got the job at the EcoStar through nepotism. Donald didn’t hire me, though. He didn’t even know I was applying as a journalist until my HR paperwork landed on his desk.”

  “Guess I can understand why you don’t tell people about that,” I said with a smirk. “It’s not easy to have a career when people think you’re related to the boss.”

  She gave me a surprised look. “You sound like you know that from personal experience.”

  “Not exactly,” I told her. “My father was a Marine, and that’s exactly why I enlisted in the Navy instead. Didn’t really stop the speculation about strings being pulled for me, but it would’ve been worse if I’d joined the Corps.”

  “I can see that.” She cleared her throat, and her expression fell again. “Anyway, I thought you should know that Donald hired the security. I still can’t believe that man died for me.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  Her head swiveled to face me, and she must have caught the edge of anger in my voice. “You don’t have to protect me from reality, you know. He was only there because of me, and the sniper missed and hit him.” She grimaced. “If I hadn’t gone over there to confront him—”

  “Then you’d be dead now, too. It wasn’t your fault,” I said as I modulated my tone. My anger wasn’t with her, it was with Traynor for selling her out, along with me and my partner and whoever else he’d compromised when he sold privileged information to Benta.

  “How is it possibly not my fault?”

  The exit I needed to take was coming up, and I slowed the car and merged into the far lane while I considered how much to tell her. Knowing about Traynor wouldn’t help protect her any further since he was dead. The only thing it might do was help her stop feeling guilty over the death of a man who didn’t deserve anyone’s sympathy.

  Once I realized it wouldn’t compromise anything to tell her the truth, I decided to come clean.

  “Traynor got himself killed,” I said as I pulled off the exit. “The shooter didn’t miss you with the first shot. He was aiming for Traynor because the man made himself a loose end by selling everything he knew about the investigation to Benta.”

  I’d stopped at a red light at the end of the onramp, and the street light above the car revealed Tessa’s face as it paled several shades. “That’s how he knew where I was staying,” she rasped. “And if he really told his friends what he knows…”

  “Yeah. Exactly the reason I wanted you out of that hotel so fast,” I said. “In fact, I’m thinking you shouldn’t go back there at all.”

  She shuddered. “Where should I go? Donald just extended my room so I could finish the assignment, but now… I don’t know anything.”

  “I’m not sure yet, but we’ll figure it out. I think having a nice, quiet dinner will do us both good right now,” I said. “We can talk after we eat.”

  Tessa gave a slow, absent nod. “This is all so crazy. Speaking of crazy, I forgot to mention something about Donald.”

  “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

  “I don’t know. I guess that depends on whether or not you know him because he seems to know you.”

  A note of disquiet pumped through my veins. “I don’t know your editor,” I said carefully, even as I recalled the first time she’d mentioned the National EcoStar, when I thought briefly that I knew someone who worked there. Still couldn’t remember who, though.
/>
  “Are you sure?” Tessa cocked her head slightly. “I told him that Agent Marston was working on the case, and he knew your first name was Ethan without me saying it. He was in the military, too. My father’s best friend. Donald Farr?”

  “Holy shit,” I blurted without thinking. “Your editor is Admiral Farr?”

  “So you do know him,” she said with a touch of awe. “I never knew he was an admiral.”

  “Technically, he was a fleet admiral,” I managed, still blown away that Farr was her Uncle Donald. He’d also served a term on the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and last I heard, he was retiring to “dabble” in civilian journalism.

  Apparently, his idea of dabbling was to become the editor of a national magazine.

  Tessa watched me with mild concern. “Are you okay, Ethan?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” I shook off the shock and paid attention to the road since I’d almost missed the turn for the restaurant where I planned to take her. “I didn’t know him well, but he was tight with my CO, so I ended up working with the admiral on a few missions. Didn’t think he’d really remember me.”

  “I guess he did,” Tessa said. “Who was your CO? I might know him. I’ve met quite a few of Donald’s military friends.”

  I smiled at the memory. The CO had been a great man, an exceptional officer, and an even better friend. Our whole unit had been close with him, including Holm. He’d retired soon after the end of my last tour, but unfortunately, he’d passed of a heart attack three years ago. I was still pissed off that I’d been out of the country on a case and unable to attend his funeral.

  “His name was Hawkins,” I said. “Captain Dean Hawkins. We called him Hawk.”

  Tessa gasped. After a long pause, she whispered, “He was my father.”

  Chapter 24

  Tessa was too shaken to talk much more, so I figured I’d wait until we got seated and had something to drink before I pressed her for anything else.

  The restaurant was called Columbo’s Bistro. It was a low-key place with a weathered plank exterior that didn’t look like much from the outside. Despite its less-than-swanky appearance and the strange Italian-French name combination, both the food and the service were excellent. More importantly, the place was quiet, even on weekend nights.