Don Juan

by Leanne Tyler

  “Too bad he’s taken. He’s hot. I’d do him in a heartbeat,” Simone said, her libido kicking into override from the adrenaline rush of dancing.

  “There isn’t much you wouldn’t do when you’ve been drinking.”

  “Ouch. Let’s not get our claws out. I’m just trying to have some fun. Lighten up. Where’d fun Carly go all of a sudden?”

  Carly glanced at her. “Sorry, but it’s late and I’m getting a headache. I’m not accustomed to having all this kind of fun.”

  The door to the bar opened and a young leather clad man with a red rolled bandana tied around his dark head strode into the bar. He was followed by two more in jeans and dark t-shirts. All three had snake tattoo markings up and down their arms and necks that anyone in the city knew cried gang relations. It wasn’t clear what their purpose was coming into the bar so late, nor did they approach Phil to order a drink. They meandered around as if they were interested in the juke box and maybe getting a table.

  “We better get out of here.” Simone grabbed Carly’s arm and pulled her off the bar stool, but Carly shook her head.

  “We can’t, we’re waiting on Colleen.”

  Simone started to protest but it died on her lips and came out more like a mouse’s high pitched squeak when the trio headed back toward the bar.

  “What can I do for you fellas?” Phil asked.

  “Your money.” The guy in the leather pulled a .45 on Phil.

  Simone lowered her arms, letting her wristlet hang down so she could get her phone out of the pocket.

  “Excuse me?” Phil didn’t flinch. He remained calm despite the gun pointed at his face.

  “Your money, mother fucker. Open up that fucking drawer and give us all your money or you and the rest of these assholes are dead.”

  The other two pulled out their guns as well and began waving them around to show they meant business. One pointed his shiny silver .45 at Simone and pulled the trigger, but a bullet didn’t fire.

  Simone cried out in alarm, dropping behind the bar. She tried to slow her racing heart as she repeated to herself that she was okay. She was alive. The bastard hadn’t shot her. He was an insane freak, laughing his ass off for pointing the gun at her and pulling that trigger, but she’d have the last laugh when the police showed up. She slipped the wristlet off and freed her phone from the pocket so she could call 9-1-1.

  She was trembling so bad it took what seemed forever for her to press the numbers on her display and the phone to register it. She had only gotten the 9-1 pressed when she heard the whack of something and then a gunshot, followed by breaking glass. Sucking in her breath she pressed the last digit and leaned forward to cover the phone as she slipped it up to her ear.

  It was hard to hear what the 9-1-1 operator said because screams ricocheted throughout the place, mingled with the continued laughter from the shooter. Plus, Carly dropped to the floor beside her and sucked in a breath when she saw her on the phone. She gave her a thumbs up before she went crawling away. Simone pivoted on her knees wondering where her friend thought she was going until she saw her slip through the opening in the bar.

  Simone quickly told the operator what was going on, where they were and that there was a live shooter, hiding her face when the gunman came around the side of the bar calling for Carly to stop and get away from the body or he’d shoot.

  “Stay on the line, ma’am. You don’t have to speak. I can hear you’re in danger,” the operator said. “I have officers in route to your location. They should be there any moment.”

  “Thank you,” Simone whispered, closing her eyes.

  She heard another whack, foul cursing and a thud. Several heartbeats later she slowly rose to her feet and peered over the bar.

  Carly stood in a pool of Phil’s blood, holding the baseball bat to her side, but the gunman was on the ground, out cold.

  “Damn, Carly, what have you done?”

  Chapter 2

  Liam Donovan watched his buddies, Will McLeod and Wyatt Kincaid, gather the last of their gear as he placed items in the proper spot in each tactical bag. It was the way their team leader, ex-Devgru SEAL Brand Chambers, liked it and he didn’t want to upset the man. They’d had a good week in Chicago promoting the Brotherhood Protectors to the Chicago PD, which included a former Seal buddy of Brand’s who was now a commander. It was another way that Hank Patterson, their boss, was trying to get his brain child, the Brotherhood Protectors and the wounded warriors he recruited for the job, back into everyday society.

  Liam didn’t mind being away from Eagle Rock, Montana. He’d only called the location in the Crazy Mountains home for a short time, but when an assignment was up he was always ready to hit the road.

  Brand was the same way. He could tell by the way his buddy was pacing the floor that he was biding the time until the team could be on the way to the airport. Liam watched his leader head over to speak to Commander Burns, otherwise known to them as Hawkeye.

  “That’s the last of it.” Wyatt handed him a secured cable.

  “Excellent.”

  “I’ll double check the podium area to make sure we didn’t forget anything up there.” Will took a step in that direction when Wyatt grabbed his arm.

  “I already looked. We’re good.”

  Brand rejoined them.

  “So are we ready to head to the airport?” Liam slung his bag on his shoulder.

  “No. Hawkeye wants us to stay a while longer.”

  Wyatt checked his watch. “We’re already cutting it close on catching our flight. Don Juan and Loverboy here might be able to sweet talk the attendant at the gate into letting us board, but they can’t get us through security check points with our tactical gear any quicker than necessary.”

  Will punched him in the arm. “I’ll have you know our skills come in handy as much as your ability to deal with PTSD victims, so don’t knock it.”

  “Let’s not squabble, guys,” Brand ordered. “We’ll still make our flight, even if we have to get a police escort to the airport or something. Let’s double check to make sure we have all of our gear secured.”

  Liam and the guys grumbled, but did the check anyway, knowing how Brand was a stickler about securing their equipment after what happened to him in Afghanistan. One of his team members hadn’t packed the bag properly before they’d gone into theater, resulting in the teammate’s death and leaving Brand injured with shrapnel in his chest too close to his pulmonary artery so he couldn’t return to active duty.

  Liam knew all about career ending injuries. He’d suffered a similar fate with his platoon in Helmand when an IED exploded. It had taken him months of physical rehabilitation at Walter Reed to learn to walk and do basic skills for himself again, like dressing, feeding, and bathing. But at least he had all of his limbs. His memory had been spotty at first, but in time it improved and he was finally back to normal. When he first started working with the Brotherhood, Hank had him at the Better Days Rehabilitation Ranch where he could finish recouping, but thankfully he’d moved on now and was able to go out on assignments like these.

  “Hey, Don Juan,” Will waved his hand in front of Liam’s face. “Where’d you go there for a minute?”

  Liam blinked, shaking the fog from his eyes. “What? Sorry. Did you say something?”

  Wyatt laughed. “Yea, man. We were asking you if you were hungry. We were thinking if we time it right we might have time to stop and get some grub on the way to the airport.”

  “You know me. I can eat anytime of the day and still want more.” Liam patted his lean stomach. “Hey, listen up. Here comes Brand and Hawkeye. That look on Brand’s face tells me we aren’t leaving here tonight.”

  “What?” Wyatt turned. “I think you’re right, Don.”

  Lights flashing and sirens blasting, the two police SUVs charged through the night to the waterfront. They arrived on the scene within minutes, and Hawkeye led the way, stopping a few feet from where a woman argued with a detective who refused her entry into the bar. />
  “You don’t understand! I was in there earlier with my friends. If I hadn’t had to leave to catch the ‘L,’ I would have been with them when the shooting happened. I know they’re still in there. I need to check to make sure they’re okay.”

  Hawkeye turned to Brand. “That’s Jules Gentry. One of your men needs to stay with her. As I understand it, she spotted the getaway car. I’ll explain to the detective that your man is taking over.”

  Brand nodded.

  “McLeod, she’s yours. Find out what you can about what she knows and make sure no reporters get near her.”

  “You got it.”

  “Donovan, Kincaid, follow me,” Brand ordered, leading them into the Pied Piper bar.

  The overhead lights were at full throttle. There were tables with knocked over chairs. Pieces of shattered mirror and broken glass bottles littered the floor. For a crime scene, it was a madhouse with all the people walking through the evidence. There were officers, detectives, CSI, and the coroner on the scene doing their jobs. A gurney with a black body bag was ready for the van.

  Crime scene tape cornered off detained patrons on the left side of the bar. Liam noticed right away a blonde in a leather jacket and short shorts, as well as her red-head companion in a short dress sitting beside her.

  “I’ll take the red-head,” he said, before Brand could issue assignments.

  Brand smirked. “Of course you will. Remember she’s an assignment, not your date for the weekend. You will keep your libido in check, Don Juan.”

  “Hey now, you know I’m not really a lover boy like McLeod. The guys in my unit only nicknamed me that because it went with Donovan.”

  “But you do have a way with the ladies just the same,” Wyatt pointed out.

  He punched his friend in the arm. “You’re not helping man. You’re not helping.”

  “So do I get the blonde?” Wyatt asked.

  Brand shook his head. “No. She’s mine.”

  Hawkeye returned. “Good. I see you’ve found your assignments so far. The blonde is Carly Manning, the one who used the bat on the shooter. The other is Simone Reid. She had a gun pointed at her, fired, but no bullet. We’re not sure if that means the gang has targeted her or not. Whoever is covering her can dig deeper from her point of view on it as well.”

  “Can do.” Donovan nodded.

  “Kincaid, I understand you’re good with PTSD victims.”

  “That’s right, Commander Burns.”

  “Then come with me. Special Victims was called in…”

  Liam lost their conversation as he focused in on the red-head, trying to size her up, but he didn’t get to far before he noticed Brand motioning for him to follow.

  “Let’s go talk to the girls,” Brand said.

  Liam walked behind him and stopped in front of the women. Brand waited for them to acknowledge his presence, which took longer than Liam expected. Usually women took note of his pal right away.

  “Can we help you?” the red-head said, when they both finally looked his way

  “I’m Brand Chambers and my partner here is Liam Donovan. We’d like to speak with you both if you don’t mind.”

  “We’ve already talked to the police and the detectives. How many more people do we have to talk to tonight before we can go home?” she asked.

  “Moi,” Donovan said. “And I can assure you if you do, I’ll get you out of here and to your home as soon as I can.”

  “How do we know you aren’t some Jo Blow who walked from off the street?”

  “We’re part of a new task force and have been assigned to protect you,” Brand said, flashing her his Brotherhood Protectors Badge and his Chicago PD visitor’s badge. Liam did the same.

  The red-head nodded. “In that case. I’m Simone Reid. This is my friend Carly Manning.”

  “Hi.” Carly looked at them with smeared mascara underneath her blue eyes. “Do you know how the gang member I hit with the bat is doing? No one will tell me anything other than he's been transported to the hospital criminal ward.”

  Her hands were trembling as she spoke, and she placed them on the table in front of her. Simone wrapped an arm around her and hugged her close.

  “What do you need to know so we can get out of here?” Simone asked again. She didn’t seem to care who they were or how they were going to get them out of the bar as long as they got home that night.

  Brand stepped forward and knelt down beside Carly. “What made you use the bat?”

  Her head snapped around quick. “He’d killed Phil. I’d crawled around through the entrance of the bar to see if there was a pulse and the man was threatening me with his gun. He claimed he would shoot me if I didn’t get away from the body. I—I— snapped. When his back was turned I whacked him. Phil was the nicest man I had met in a long time. He’d protected me from myself when I'd had too much to drink earlier tonight. Then there was this thug. He came in and killed him for no reason. He—he was going to shoot me for no reason too. He had this hysterical laugh like a crazed animal. I’ll never get that sound out of my head. What kind of a monster was he?”

  A single tear ran down her cheek and Liam watched Brand wipe it away with the pad of his thumb.

  “There isn’t always an explanation for why people do what they do. It’s getting late. Let’s get you both out of here for the night. I’m sure if the police or detectives have any more questions for you, it can wait until the morning.”

  “Thank you,” Carly said, reaching for a black bag that looked more like an overnight than a purse.

  “Why don’t you stay with me tonight,” Simone suggested.

  Carly nodded.

  “Wait a minute, ladies.” Liam waved his hand at them. “I’m afraid we can’t let you do that. We’re here to keep you both safe and the best way to do that is to keep you at two different locations.”

  “Wh-why do you think we need to be kept safe?” Carly asked. “Do you think the gang will try to retaliate against me because I swung that bat at the shooter?”

  “We aren’t sure. But you did keep him from getting away with the other two.”

  “As we understand it, Simone, you had a gun pointed at you. That could have been random. But what if it wasn’t? Could there have been a reason this particular gang would target you?” Liam asked.

  Simone’s bottom lip began to tremble. She bit it and shook her head.

  Liam looked at Brand and they exchanged knowing looks. There was more there than she was willing to tell either of them at the moment.

  “Okay ladies. As promised you’ve answered our initial questions and we’re going to get you out of here for the night. Is there anything you’d like to know or do before we leave here?” Liam asked.

  Carly nodded. “Our friend Colleen. She went to the ladies, and we haven’t seen her since. No one will tell us anything. Can you find out what happened to her? Have they made her stay in there while they clear the crime scene out here like they’ve made us stay on this side of the bar?”

  “Possibly,” Liam said. “But we’ll check that out and see what we can find out for sure.”

  “What’s her full name?” Brand asked.

  “Colleen Summers. Why?” Simone asked. “She’s not dead is she?”

  “No. Nothing to that extreme,” Liam assured as Brand left to find Hawkeye.

  “Now while he’s gone, do you need a glass of water or anything?”

  The women shook their heads.

  “We really just want to go home,” Simone told him.

  “Just a few more minutes. I promise. Are either of you cold? I could see about getting you a jacket or a blanket from one of the patrol cars.”

  Again they shook their heads. Simone looked up at him and smiled. “You’re not from around here are you?”

  “Why?”

  “Your accent. It sounds mid-western.”

  “Oklahoma.”

  “Ok-la-ho-ma.” She said it in a way that drew it out and made it sound rather sexy. He had a feeling he was
in for a rough weekend with her.

  Thankfully Brand returned with news of their friend.

  Both Carly and Simone stood as soon as they saw him.

  “What did you learn?”

  “Where is Colleen?”

  Their questions came at once, and he grinned at their eager faces. “I found out that the bus that was called to treat any of the patrons here tonight did take your friend to Chicago Medical Center to be checked out. She’s alive so that should put your fears to rest.”

  The two hugged each other.

  When they pulled apart they looked at one another and said in unison, “Jules!”

  “She’s outside. Or she was when we arrived,” Liam said. “She was trying to get in here, but the detective wouldn’t let her because it was a crime scene.”

  “Then we need to go outside and talk to her. Let her know we’re okay and what’s happened to Colleen,” Simone said, grabbing her purse off the table. “You want to protect me, Mr. Donovan, then let’s get a move on. I want to see Jules.”

  “She may not be there anymore. One of our guys was assigned to her. He may have already taken her home.”

  “Well we won’t know for sure until we get outside and find out.”

  The woman grabbed his hand and he could have sworn he felt a jolt of electricity ram through his body similar to the IED that had left his brain scrambled after the explosion in Helmand. For several moments his legs wouldn’t work.

  Simone turned and gave him a funny look. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “Yea. Of course.” He shook the random wave of body memory away and followed her outside the Pied Piper, but as he suspected Will and her friend Jules was nowhere in sight.

  “They’re gone.” Simone sounded so disappointed.

  “You can call her tomorrow,” Liam offered, leading her over to the black SUV that was waiting by the curb. “Let’s get in and get you home before one of the reporters coming in our direction tries to interview you.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” She climbed in the vehicle and he entered after her, closing the door before the driver sped away.