Night Watch

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Night Watch Page 18

by Susan Sleeman


  They’d streamed a Sunday morning worship service online and were now having breakfast in lieu of Sunday dinner. Peggy changed things up because Kennedy was having dinner with Finley that night. Kennedy couldn’t believe Erik’s mom would change her plans so Kennedy could be included, but she had. She seemed eager to talk to Erik.

  Kennedy stabbed a bite of the fluffy scrambled eggs lying next to crisp bacon and a mix of melons. There was also homemade bread toasted to a crisp brown, just the way she liked it. The scents of bacon and toast twined together and reminded her of breakfast at home with Finley and their parents.

  She chewed the eggs, resisting falling into the sadness of grief, and smiled at Peggy, who was watching her from where she stood behind the table. “Thank you again for breakfast. It’s a great way to start the day.”

  Peggy beamed at her as she rested a hand on Logan’s and Willow’s shoulders, the foster children seeming to fit right into the family. “You’re most welcome. I wish I could say it was because I just wanted to be nice, but—”

  “Here we go.” Aiden grinned, and his brothers groaned. “The real reason we’re all gathered together.”

  Peggy ignored him and grabbed a pile of papers from the counter. “I brought a schedule for each of you boys, and I need you to follow it.”

  “What in the world have you got planned?” Erik took a long pull on his steaming mug of black coffee.

  She gave a piece of paper to each of his brothers except Erik.

  “Why am I excluded?” he asked, looking half amused and half offended.

  Aiden glanced up from his page. “Because you’re the subject of our assignment.”

  “What?” Erik shot a look at his mother. “What’s going on?”

  “I know how you all get when you’re working on behalf of your clients,” she said. “You get so wrapped up in it that you forget about everything else. Especially when the client is someone you care very deeply for.”

  “Yeah, so?” Erik said.

  “So now that the test came back positive for anthrax, you need to be sure to take the antibiotic as scheduled and pay attention to any symptoms that might arise.” She glanced at Kennedy. “You too, sweetheart.”

  “Of course,” Kennedy said. “But my risk of exposure is far less than Erik’s, so don’t worry about me.”

  “I’ll be praying for you both until you’re in the clear.” She stepped next to Erik and placed her hand on his shoulder. “I need you to be extra vigilant.”

  “I will be.” He squeezed her hand. “Promise.”

  Peggy pinned her gaze on him. “I’m not so sure. You’ll get busy digging up some information on your computer, and you’ll forget all about the anthrax. So I want your brothers to keep an eye on you and let me know how you’re doing. Same goes for Kennedy.”

  “Mom,” Erik said, his patience seeming to evaporate. “This is crazy, even for you.”

  “You could die from this, son.” She pulled her shoulders back in a hard line. “I won’t let that happen.”

  “Fine, then if you want a play-by-play report, I’ll set an alarm on my phone and check in with you on a regular basis.”

  She shook her head hard, almost violently. “No. No. I’ve thought about this. I can see you with your face glued to a computer screen, hunting down valuable information. Your alarm rings. You turn it off, planning to look at it in a minute, but then you forget.”

  “I won’t—”

  “Dude,” Drake said. “You totally will.”

  “But I—”

  “We all know you will,” Sierra said.

  “And your mom’s right,” Kennedy said, wishing she didn’t have to be on the opposite side of what Erik wanted all the time. “Our health has to come before anything.”

  Erik gritted his teeth and glanced around the table. If he was seeing what Kennedy was seeing, it was the determined set of his brothers’ and sister’s faces. He might want to argue, but there was no point. After all, that was what made these people so special. They would stop at nothing to protect a family member, and the same held true with a client, which right now meant her. Five men and one woman who would do anything to help her. Anything.

  Oh, man. She was so blessed. So very blessed. Tears wet her eyes.

  “Kennedy, honey.” Peggy’s fierce mama-bear gaze zoned in on Kennedy. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m just feeling very blessed to know all of you, and so thankful you don’t hold the way I broke up with Erik against me.”

  “About that.” Peggy dragged her chair next to Kennedy. “Sounds like everyone knows what happened but me, and don’t you think it’s time I’m in the loop too?”

  Erik groaned, but Kennedy didn’t mind telling Peggy about the breakup. Kennedy had already blown her WITSEC agreement, after all. And she wanted this special woman to know that Kennedy didn’t abandon her son without a good reason. Why keeping Peggy in the loop was so very important to Kennedy, she didn’t know, and she wasn’t going to analyze it, because if she did, she might not like the answer.

  Erik stowed the conversation from breakfast. He couldn’t think about how well Kennedy fit in with his family and still keep her safe as he drove her and Drake to their interview with the Hood to Coast racer. Didn’t take Erik long the night before to learn the guy in the picture’s identity, plus the identity of the other people on the team. Not surprisingly, the guy was a former pilot and major, Mick Hess. He lived in a four-story apartment building near the Portland Air National Guard Base, which was located adjacent to the Portland International Airport.

  A commercial jet soared overhead, and Erik glanced up. The sun beat down on the area, and the snowcapped peak of Mount Hood fairly glowed, but there wasn’t a fighter jet in the sky.

  “I was hoping to see the jets.” Kennedy peered out the window in the backseat. “But maybe you can’t see them from here.”

  “You can,” Erik said. “They fly in formation in this area, but I’ve only ever seen them in the afternoon.”

  It wasn’t uncommon to catch one of the F-15C Eagles the guard exclusively flew, roaring out of PDX on an almost daily basis. The Air Guard was a reserve component of the Air Force, performing both state and federal missions. And seeing the jets soaring through the sky in formation was a remarkable sight.

  Kennedy’s eyes narrowed. “Then we won’t likely see them today.”

  “Probably a good thing,” Drake said from the seat beside Erik. “Could be a distraction.”

  Erik loved everything aeronautical and would be stoked to see the jets, but his brother was right. They couldn’t afford to be distracted by anything. He needed to keep Kennedy’s safety first in his mind.

  Which was why they’d done a thorough threat assessment before coming here. Low risk, but still not no risk. He pulled into the parking lot and searched the area for danger. A few commuters heading to work but otherwise it was calm and quiet. Their other brothers had come ahead of them to do additional recon, and Aiden saluted Erik from the sidewalk.

  Good. Everything was okay for their early morning knock and talk. If Hess let them in. A big if. Especially if the guy was their shooter. But Erik was going to get in that door no matter what happened.

  He parked next to his brothers’ rental vehicle and turned to look at Kennedy. “Hang tight while I get the lay of the land.” They’d reviewed aerial footage, but he wanted a firsthand look before he allowed Kennedy to step out of the safe bulletproof environment.

  He joined his brothers.

  “We’re clear.” Aiden planted his feet on the sidewalk. “Apartment’s at the end of the first floor hallway. We confirmed exits include the apartment’s patio door and the front door with exits on both ends of the hallway, plus a stairwell and elevator.”

  Erik lifted his hand to block the sun as he surveyed the building. “So Aiden will take the closest end of the hallway, Brendan the far end. Clay has the patio door, and Drake’s with me for the suspect’s apartment.”

  “Exactly.” Drake’
s droll tone said he wanted to move on.

  Erik looked at the SUV where Kennedy waited. No way he’d rush this. He had more at stake here than his brothers. Erik was falling in love with Kennedy all over again, and he was powerless to stop it. In fact, he didn’t even want to try anymore. He just wanted to focus on her well-being and forget the past. Forget the hurt. And keep her safe.

  Erik jerked his head at the SUV. “I’m going to do a quick pass of the first floor then I’ll meet you at the vehicle to escort Kennedy inside.”

  “Understood,” Drake said.

  Erik strode off. He heard his brothers talking but couldn’t make out their words. They were probably discussing the fact that he had the least amount of experience in law enforcement. It was true. He did. But he’d been an exemplary police officer and trained with Blackwell Tactical to improve his skills. The whole Nighthawk team had, but Erik had gone to Cold Harbor for one-on-one training with Blackwell’s owner. A former SEAL, Gage Blackwell was the best trainer in the area, and Erik had learned a lot from him.

  But he hated the thought that kept niggling at his brain with each footstep. Today they might just find out how much he’d learned about protection skills.

  The Kevlar vest was bulky and hot as the sun shone brightly in the morning already approaching eighty degrees. Kennedy kept tugging it down under her blouse as they waited outside Hess’s place for him to answer the door. She wished her dominant hand weren’t bandaged and she could grab her gun if needed. But Erik and Drake were carrying, and they could stop any threat. Erik had pounded on the metal several times, but no answer. Hess was home. That was certain. The brothers had watched the place all night. They’d seen Hess go in and never come out.

  Finally, heavy footfalls sounded on the other side of the black metal door.

  “About time.” Erik waved his hands at Kennedy in a shooing motion. “If he’s our shooter and feels threatened, he could open fire. I don’t want you taking a bullet.”

  She swallowed and moved back from the door. She knew visiting this man unannounced was dangerous. Not only had Erik and his brothers told her several times, but the bulky vest reminded her with every move. Suddenly the danger seemed real. Very real.

  The door opened a crack, and a man matching Hess’s picture poked his head out. He ran a sharp gaze over them with penetrating brown eyes. “Yeah.”

  He didn’t show any sign of recognizing her or Erik, just a hint of frustration in his large wide-set eyes. He had near-black hair cut military short. He was tall and wore an overshirt on top of a blue T-shirt and khaki tactical pants. His body was toned—maybe too toned for the suspect she’d seen at her mother’s place.

  But what really caught her attention was the bump on his nose and the long pointy chin. He could be their guy, all right, or just another active guy who’d broken his nose at some point in his life. He was wearing a long-sleeved overshirt in summer, and she had to think he was using it to hide a weapon on his hip. She didn’t see a bulge, but she’d keep an eye out for it as she assumed Erik and Drake would do. Especially Drake. Erik explained that his brother would hang back, and his main focus would be protection so Erik could question Hess.

  “Are you Mick Hess?” Erik asked, though he had to know from the race pictures that they were looking at Hess.

  “Who wants to know?” Hess clamped his hand on the door and fired a challenge Erik’s way with his lifted chin.

  “I’m Erik Byrd with Nighthawk Security. This is my brother Drake and forensic specialist Kennedy Walker. We’re working an investigation where the Hood to Coast race may play a part. We have some questions about the Redhawks race team.”

  “Not sure how I can help you. You’re probably better off talking to our team leader.”

  “Maybe so,” Erik said. “But since we’re already here, would you mind us coming in for a few minutes?”

  He glanced at his watch. “I can’t be late for an appointment.”

  “We won’t take long.” Kennedy said, smiling, hoping to ease the suspicion in his expression. “Please. It would be a big help, and I’d really appreciate it.”

  She was flirting, and Erik cast her a dark look. When Hess smiled back at her, she let her grin widen. Based on his ease, she didn’t think he recognized them. Maybe he was just the grunt man and had been told to shoot at the car without knowing who rode inside. She glanced at his shirt again and spotted the holstered gun this time.

  Her ease with the guy evaporated.

  “Fine.” Hess stepped back. “But you’ve only got five minutes.”

  Kennedy went first and kept her smile in place.

  The apartment was sparsely furnished, the living room holding only an overstuffed black leather recliner and a matching couch along with a coffee table and the prerequisite huge TV with surround sound. Nothing on the walls but white paint.

  Kennedy sat on the couch, realizing that, unlike a lot of bachelor pads, this place was sparkling clean. Maybe from his military training as his shirt and pants were pressed. Erik leaned against the wall next to the couch, and Drake remained just inside the door.

  Hess looked at Drake. “You’re a jumpy one.”

  “Yep,” Drake said, his expression remaining neutral.

  Hess closed the door and took confident strides toward Kennedy. He stood near the end of the sofa, his focus on Erik. “So what did you want to ask about?”

  “Your team wore wristbands with hawks on them,” Erik said.

  Kennedy kept her focus on Hess, who didn’t seem at all troubled by Erik’s comment.

  “Our leader used to work in the public affairs department on base, and she went all out when she put our team together. She had uniforms, a banner, and the bracelets made. We didn’t want it all, but once she gets going, you can’t stop her.”

  “Do you still have your bracelet?” Erik asked.

  Hess didn’t answer right away, so Kennedy tried to look beneath his stone-faced expression. Maybe he was using tactics he’d learned in the military if he were ever captured to convincingly evade questions.

  “Trashed it after the race,” he finally said.

  “Trashed it or lost it?” Erik clarified.

  “Trashed. Near the finish line.” Hess folded his arms over a broad chest, showing the first sign of being uncomfortable. “What’s this all about, anyway?”

  “Do you own any weapons other than the Glock at your side?” Erik asked.

  A hint of surprise raised Hess’s eyebrows, but he quickly dropped them and patted his holster as if confirming Erik’s assessment. “A few.”

  Erik pushed from the wall and planted his feet, his chin out. “Name them.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve got a Remington 870 pump shotgun and a Sig Sauer P320.”

  Erik lowered his chin. “No semi-automatics?”

  “I’d love one of those bad boys.” He grinned. “But no reason to own one, and I don’t like to waste my money.”

  With the sparsity of his furnishings, Kennedy could believe that. “Do you have any friends who might own one? Someone you might borrow one from?”

  Hess turned his full attention on her, and she could easily imagine him in the cockpit of the million-dollar fighter, checking the dash and aiming his sights on an enemy. It didn’t take much more to imagine him behind the weapon that was fired at her, and she had to work hard not to shrink back.

  “Not that I know of,” he said.

  “Couching your answer,” Erik stated, his gaze firm.

  Hess lifted his shoulder, his mouth curving up in a half smile.

  Erik’s nostrils flared. “You won’t be smiling if we determine you were the person who open fired on our vehicle yesterday.”

  Hess took the news in stride, not even a flash of surprise. So did he know about the shooting? Was he involved? The shooter?

  “Didn’t touch a gun yesterday,” he said, his tone flat. “Not even this one.” He tapped his Glock. “Couldn’t. Not with the race.”

  E
rik rested his hands on his hips, looking as threatening as Hess. “So exactly where were you at eleven-thirty A.M. yesterday?”

  “In Seaside having lunch with the team and celebrating finishing the race.”

  “And you were never out of your team’s sight?”

  He crossed his muscular arms. “I had to go to the can, but otherwise? They’ll confirm I was there.”

  Erik nodded slowly. “Then how do you explain that one of your team wristbands was found in a vacant apartment in Portland, where a shooter hunkered down to take us out?”

  Hess flexed his jaw muscles a few times. “I didn’t put it there. The band irritated my arm from the minute I put it on.” He held out his left wrist. A red rash circled it, perhaps confirming his comment. “I’m a team player and kept it on until the finish. Then, like I said, I trashed it near the finish line.”

  “And before the team picture was taken,” Erik stated.

  “You noticed that, huh? Suppose I’ll get heat from our leader. She was all about uniformity. Military precision and all of that.” He shrugged, looking confident and a bit smug. “I don’t plan to run again next year. Too much crud for it to be any fun.”

  “I’ll need a list of your team members and drivers and their phone numbers,” Erik said.

  Hess lifted his shoulders. “Don’t see why. We were all together celebrating, so none of us could’ve done what you think. And besides. I don’t know any of you and I’m not going to give out my friends’ info to just anyone.”

  “We’re with Nighthawk Security.” Erik held out his ID, feet flat on the floor, planted wide and glaring at Hess.

  “I’ll write down your phone number and have them call you.” Hess eyed Erik. “Just let me grab some paper.”

  When he was out of earshot, she leaned closer to Erik and lowered her voice. “You know they’re going to confirm his alibi.”

  He nodded. “But we need more proof than this guy’s word that he was where he said he was.”

  18

  Erik checked his email after a quick lunch in his condo with Kennedy. A message arrived from Mackenzie Steele, and he clicked it open.

 

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