Doris Klein affectionately patted the nearest bird. “I will. And call me Doris.” Her face brightened again and she tugged her shower cap back into place. “Now, why don’t you tell me why you’re here, Officers?”
Wheeler introduced them.
“Oh, you are one of those Brash gals,” Doris said and clapped her hands together. She openly admired Jess. “I used to drive by your office on my way to senior bowling before they closed the alley. I always wanted to be one of those fascinating Brash gals.”
Jess smiled. “I hope you’re not disappointed.” She liked the eccentric lady. Doris reminded her of a female Irving, sans plaid pants.
“Not at all, dear,” Doris exclaimed. “You are just what I imagined. Tough and adorable.”
Although she wasn’t sure what Doris pictured in her mind when it came to Jess and her friends, and she’d never been called adorable, Doris did sound complimentary and Jess took it that way. “Thank you.”
Wheeler, who’d been quietly watching the exchange, stepped up. They had to get back on track or risk spending the entire day with Doris playing fangirl to Jess.
“How’d you like to be an assistant Brash investigator?” he said, and the elderly lady’s eyes lit up. Despite the weird bird thing and the BB gun, she seemed like a nice person. “We’re stumped by this case and could use your help.”
Doris wobbled and appeared ready to pitch over. Before he could offer her help, she leaned on a flamingo and put her hand over her heart.
“Oh, yes. Of course I’d love to help.”
Jess bit her lip, realizing what Wheeler was doing: getting Doris focused as a possible witness and also making her feel like part of the case. Sweet. The man knew how to charm women when he wanted to. Plus, he was an excellent detective. The combination made her want to put her hand over her heart, too.
“What can I do?” Doris focused on Wheeler. “This is so exciting.”
After taking out his notebook, he flipped it open. “You called the tipline about the shooting at the Methodist church last Saturday. You claimed to have seen the sniper. Can you tell me where you saw him and describe what he looks like?”
Mrs. Klein appeared puzzled for a moment, then slowly shook her head. The cap made a crackling sound. “You’re wrong, Detective Wheeler. The shooter was a woman.”
Chapter Fifteen
“A woman?” Jess echoed. She glanced at Sam. His expression hadn’t changed but his eyelids narrowed. It was Jess that gaped like a trout. After all, there was nothing in the PI handbook that required her to be stoic. “Are you sure?”
They’d considered that option, but most snipers were men. To hear Doris say it threw the case off course. If true, this added a new dimension to the investigation.
Doris nodded. “I may be old, but I do know the difference between the sexes.” She spun the flamingo. “She had on a dark sweatshirt with a hood and was carrying a long case. I noticed her because she had the hood up. It was hot that day. Why would she need a hood?”
Jess knew hoods up, even on a hot day, wasn’t uncommon for young people. That might help them pinpoint an age range. “Tell us about her.”
“Well, she was hippy, and her sweatshirt and baggy black pants hid her figure. I didn’t get a real good look at her face but she was wearing pink lip gloss. No male assassin would wear makeup, right?”
“Agreed,” Jess said. Doris was observant.
“Hippy?” Sam asked.
“You know. Like those popular girls on TV with the big bottoms and rounded hips.” Doris pushed a finger under the shower cap and scratched. “But she was small on top. Pear shaped, poor dear.”
“Damn.” Sam gritted his teeth. “We’ve been duped.”
Doris made an excellent witness. Jess pressed forward. “Could you tell her hair color or any other features that could identify her?”
The woman thought for a moment, and then her shoulders slumped. “No. Nothing. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Jess said. “You’ve been a huge help.” She assured Doris that she made an excellent PI. The older lady beamed with the compliment.
Jess’s phone pinged. It was Alvin.
Emergency. We need you at the office.
Emergency? Her heart skipped a beat. The only emergency they ever had at the office was when the coffee ran out and the staff got surly. For Alvin to send out an alert was unusual. He wasn’t someone who panicked. This had to be serious.
Worry tugged at her.
“We have to go,” Jess said. “Thank you so much, Doris. You did great. If we have any more questions, we’ll call.” She hurried off. Sam fell in beside her.
“What’s up?” he asked. She held out her phone. “I assume this is the first time you’ve gotten one of those?”
“Yup.” They got into the SUV. Once inside she tried to call Alvin back. Then Irving. And finally, Gretchen. No one answered. All the calls went to voicemail. She lowered her phone onto her lap. “Something is very wrong.”
Sam broke speed records as they weaved in and out of neighborhoods, taking the back way in. Jess’s stomach knotted when she saw a trio of police cars parked in front of Brash and several employees standing outside talking to the officers.
“Oh, no.” She jumped from the SUV while it was rolling to a stop and ran for the doors. There was no one at the security desk as she and Sam skipped the elevator and took the stairs up three flights. Gretchen was not at her desk.
Jess ran past. The hallway was packed with employees as she headed for Irving’s office. Gretchen stood in the opening of the double doors, crying silently into a tissue.
“What’s going on?” Jess demanded.
Gretchen grabbed her arm. “Irving’s been shot.”
Jess’s legs went out from beneath her.
* * *
Sam caught her by the elbow before she went down. He squeezed her arm painfully tight. Jess would be horrified to show weakness in front of all those people. And he was right. She snapped upright under the pressure.
Giving him a thankful glance, she gently pushed past Gretchen and headed for Irving’s office. He stayed behind her.
The office was a hive of activity. Jess scanned the room and locked onto her boss. He was seated in a chair while a medic attended him. Jess wavered slightly with relief and hurried over. She elbowed Alvin aside and dropped onto her heels. Irving took her hand.
The warmth of his fingers wrapped around hers caused tears to spring into her eyes. Irving was much more than a boss. He was like a father/grandfather to everyone who was part of his Brash & Brazen family. The idea of losing him was beyond what she could take.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered and squeezed her hand. “If Gretchen sees you break down, she’ll lose it.”
Jess blinked and nodded. Sam called her Tough Girl. She could do this. “What have you gone and done to yourself?” she asked softly and struggled to check her emotions.
“A sniper shot me through the window. He grazed my leg.” The EMT had his pant leg cut open and wrapped padding and tape around the injury. “They want to take me to the hospital.” He and the EMT exchanged frowns. “It’s just a scratch.”
“You’re going,” Jess said before he could solidify his argument. “If you don’t go, Gretchen will lose it.” She turned his words on him. “You don’t want that.”
Bushy gray brows tangled together above his nose. “That wasn’t nice.”
She refused to look away. Instead she leaned in. “We care about you, stubborn old man. Without you, Taryn will want to be in charge and you know how bossy she is.”
“Taryn isn’t the only one,” he grumbled. “The three of you haven’t given me any peace in three years with all your nagging and bossing.”
“And you love us.” Jess patted his knee and lowered her voice. “Please don’t fight me on this. Everyone is concerned.”
Irving looked past her to the clutch of worried faces in the hallway. Jess wat
ched him deflate. He cared just as much about them as they did him. As the leader of the company, he’d do what was needed to assure everyone he was okay.
He turned to the EMT. “Do you plan to continue strangling my leg with all the tape or are we getting out of here?”
The EMT smiled.
* * *
Sam looked over to where a pair of officers examined the broken window. Glass littered the carpet from a golf ball-sized hole. Sam chased out all non-essential personnel and joined them.
“What have you got?” he asked and bent for a better view. Knowing the sniper was a young female made the situation even more unbelievable. Most snipers were seasoned by many years of honing their craft. To make a shot like this took skill.
He wondered if she had military training.
“One shot through the glass. It was a hell of a shot,” Stafford said, echoing Sam’s thoughts. He was a patrolman wanting to be a detective. Sam liked him. “We assume it came from the building next door, but can’t confirm without further investigation.”
Sam looked over at the building on the other side of the parking lot. What Stafford said made sense. It was the closest and tallest building in the area. But even with the air conditioning and heating units on the roof, it was still a half-story below Irving’s office and several hundred yards away.
He turned to the desk and found a pen. Sliding it into the bullet hole, the angle confirmed trajectory. The bullet had come from above and hit Irving as he stood at the window.
Whoever the woman assassin was, she’d done her homework.
Sam returned to Jess as the medics loaded Irving up. He put a hand on her shoulder. She was trembling.
“We’ll catch her,” he said. Jess nodded. She, Alvin, and Gretchen followed the emergency crew out.
Sam waited until the team was loaded into the elevator. He caught a glimpse of Jess’s face right as the doors closed. She sent him a brief nod. Though upset, he saw a flash of anger in her eyes. She’d make sure Irving was settled and safe before slipping back into PI mode.
The sniper had made a huge mistake in hurting someone Jess loved, and Jess adored that old man.
It was Game On.
Chapter Sixteen
Jess and Taryn sat in the waiting room with Gretchen and Alvin while the doctors took Irving into surgery to remove the bullet shards and glass from his leg. Thankfully, the graze hadn’t been a head-on shot. The sniper could have taken out an artery.
Jess had called Summer so she wouldn’t hear about the shooting from someone else. She wanted to fly back from Hawaii but her two friends convinced her to finish up the last four days of her honeymoon. With a shooter targeting both Jess and Irving, it would be safer for her there.
Summer reluctantly agreed but made them promise to keep in constant contact with her with updates. There had been tears in her voice when she’d hung up.
“Do you think she’ll stay in Hawaii?” Jess asked Taryn as she pocketed her phone.
“Probably not, but Jason promised to do what he could. He’s worried that we’re being targeted by a maniac. He’ll want his wife away from danger.”
Alvin walked to Gretchen, who was pacing near the door to the hallway. He put a hand on her shoulder and said something to her that they couldn’t hear. She nodded and he left the waiting room, slump shouldered, like a big defeated bear.
Once things settled down, they’d have a serious talk about his brother. He couldn’t just foist a bodyguard on her without asking her first.
“Do you think this psycho wants us all dead?” Taryn said and stretched out her back. Irving had loaned her a cane after her injury and she still walked with a stiff gait. Thankfully, she was on the mend.
“Who knows?” Jess rubbed her eyes. “What could we have done that would make this woman take shots at us?”
“I’ve been thinking about that since the church shooting.” Taryn shifted on the chair. “I can’t think of a single case that could rise to this level of violence.”
They went silent. “You don’t think this could be Willard’s doing?” Jess added. “He’s a jerk, but this?”
Willard J. Covington was their pervy ex-boss and the man embroiled in a lawsuit with Taryn. He stood to lose millions, and possibly his pro football team, if she won the case. He certainly had motive to take her out. But why would he go after Jess and Irving?
“Anything is possible. But why not target me?”
Rick appeared in the open doorway. He walked to Taryn. “I got here as fast as I could.” He sat beside her and kissed the side of her head. “How is he?”
“We don’t know yet. The wounds were all shrapnel.” Taryn linked her hand with his. “He’s still in surgery.”
Rick’s gray eyes were worried as he glanced at Jess. As a DEA agent, he dealt with some very bad men. He’d also be quick to figure out the odds of Taryn being next. Hurt, she’d be an easy target.
“Where’s Wheeler?” he asked. Rick was big and buff and intimidating when he was angry. Whoever the sniper was had better steer clear of Taryn.
“At Brash.” Jess filled him in. “He texted that they found some evidence that the shot came from the top of the building next door. They’re going floor to floor in both buildings to see if anyone saw the shooter. So far, she’s a ghost.”
“She?” Taryn asked.
Jess told them about the new information. Both Taryn and Rick were surprised.
“A young female sniper is unusual,” he said. “At least we know what we’re dealing with now.”
Alvin returned with a coffee cup. He handed it to Gretchen. She smiled gratefully. Holding the cup stopped her from hand-wringing. She’d been with Irving since high school and his cement pipe days, moving up the ranks from gopher to executive assistant. She was the face everyone saw as they arrived on the third floor and the gatekeeper to the boss.
The shooting had shattered her. Jess hoped that Gretchen’s strength, and love for Irving, would keep her from a complete meltdown if his health went sideways.
A doctor came through the open doorway. “Gretchen Boyd?”
“That’s me.” The doctor blinked at her bright pink and yellow sweater with a chipmunk juggling nuts embroidered on the front, but kept his composure. “Irving came through the surgery well and is in the recovery room. In a few minutes you’ll be able to see him. However, at his age, any injury is tricky. We’d like to keep him for a few days to monitor his condition.”
He gave more details of the surgery and glass removal and what care would be required once he went home, but Jess didn’t hear anything through the buzz in her head. She quietly slipped from the room and headed down to the first floor and out the sliding glass doors.
Barring complications, Irving would be okay.
Shaky with relief, she half walked, half stumbled in the direction of her SUV, only to see Wheeler leaning against the vehicle with his arms crossed.
“I was parking when I saw you come out.” Before she could attempt to speak, he read her face and held out his arms. “Come here.”
He scooped her in as she melted into him. Within his comforting embrace, the buzz faded away.
* * *
Jess trembled and he leaned to press his face against her hair. She smelled like strawberry shampoo and fear. He wanted to take away all the bad from the day and make her smile again. He wanted to wring the neck of their sniper. The woman had to be stopped before anyone got seriously hurt.
“I thought we’d lose him when I heard he’d been shot,” she said against his shoulder. “I know he’s been around since the Stone Age but he’s healthier than I am.” She lifted her face and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “We need to catch that bitch.”
He smiled at her choice of words. “We will.” She leaned back into him and laid her forehead on his chest. He rubbed her back. “She can’t hide forever.”
Jess nodded and tipped her head up. “I should go back in. Someone has to do
crowd control when the rest of the office shows up. Irving has a lot of people who love him.”
Sam cupped her face and stared into her eyes. Always awed by her strength, he knew she’d be back to her normal spirited self in no time. For now, she had to be nearby for Irving. “Will you be okay if I head back to Brash?”
“I will.” She ran a hand down his chest. “Thanks.”
Before she stepped back, he leaned in. “Be careful.”
“Yes, sir.”
He looked into her soft and beautiful eyes and lost the sense he was born with. Without thinking of the consequences of his actions, he brushed her mouth with a light kiss.
And for a second, she let him. He pulled back and sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” she agreed. She stepped out of reach and looked at him sidelong as she walked away. “Maybe you can do it again later.”
And she left him intrigued in her wake.
Chapter Seventeen
By the time Jess dragged herself back to Wheeler’s house, it was well after dinner and her stomach was scraping her spine. She’d texted Taryn’s sister Heather from the hospital and asked her to come and let Spike out. Wheeler kept a spare key on a nail beneath the back deck. That was probably how Calvin got in. Sam needed a new hiding place.
There was a note on the door:
Sorry.
Heather had drawn a paw print on the note. Oh, no. Jess frowned, took out her key, and braced herself. She knew leaving Spike home by himself was a bad idea.
How bad?
The big smushed-in Spike face appeared in the crack of the door as she eased it open, his stubby tail waving a mile a minute. What caught her attention wasn’t his happy face but bits of something hanging from the side of his mouth. A closer examination of the evidence formed a conclusion. Stuffing.
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