Full Disclosure (Real Estate Relations Book 1)

by DJ Jamison

  I didn’t like maybe. I needed certainty. I needed to see with my own two eyes that Camden was safe. Then I needed to drag him back to my hotel and make sure he stayed that way.

  Chapter 23

  Reid

  I stepped through the open door, glancing around. The front of the home looked almost as if the fire had never happened, except for the signs of the firefighters that had trampled through the place. Muddy boot prints trailed across the entryway. A small table that usually sat against the wall just outside the dining room had been tipped over. The entire house smelled like a barbecue.

  I opened my mouth to call for Cam, but something stopped me. A gut instinct. The empty house seemed charged with an ominous feeling. I’d learned to trust those nebulous feelings in the past, so I unholstered my weapon and crept forward quietly.

  A scuffling sound in the kitchen made the hairs rise on the back of my neck. A thump and a cry followed.

  I recognized Cam’s voice, even distorted by a cry of pain.

  Panicked, I sped through the dining room toward the kitchen. My head filled with images of Camden in pain. Of Camden dead, the light in his beautiful eyes dimmed forever. A world without Camden Lewis was a world that didn’t make any damn sense. I couldn’t let it happen.

  I turned the corner, took in the sight before me in seconds, and fired my weapon.

  An Asian man held a gun to Camden’s head, leaving me with little doubt The Dragon Boyz gang had tracked down Lee. The gang was made up of several ethnicities, all Asian, including Vietnamese, Chinese and Thai. A second gunman stood a few feet away to the left of a melted shape that was once the stove.

  I knew, even as I fired, that the second man would shoot me. This wasn’t the movies, and I wouldn’t have time to shoot them both or dive to safety. But I had to get that gun away from Camden’s head. That was priority No. 1.

  All of this knowledge flashed through my mind in a nanosecond. All in the time it took me to register their presence and pull the trigger.

  The man closest to Camden dropped instantly.

  So did I. Purposely, not that it mattered. A bullet tore into my upper right arm. The arm that wielded my weapon.

  As I fell, I swung my gun toward the corner where the second gunman stood and fired a second time. I had to take him out before my body fully registered the pain and shock of the gunshot wound, or else it would be over for me — but more importantly, over for Camden. This man would never leave a witness alive.

  My bullet clipped the gunman’s shoulder. It wouldn’t be enough to stop him.

  I still held my trusty Glock, but my hand wasn’t steady. Shock was setting in.

  I fired again, my fingers numb and clumsy as I pulled the trigger. My aim was way off, and the gun clattered to the floor. He raised his Smith and Wesson, and I rolled to the side, already knowing it was too little too late.

  Fire licked a line across my ribs. It was just a graze, but it didn’t matter. I knew it was over. Blood poured from my arm wound. I’d dropped my gun.

  He’d finish me now, then kill Cam before leaving to search for Lee. Maybe he’d threaten Camden and question him to verify Lee was in town somewhere. Maybe Camden had a few minutes of life left, but not enough. Nowhere near enough.

  “Camden,” I choked. “Run.”

  A final shot sounded, and I flinched — waiting for more pain or maybe the black that would fill my vision when it all ended.

  It didn’t happen.

  I opened my eyes and saw the second gunman down. Camden stood with a gun in his hand, his entire body shaking.

  “Is he dead?” he said, his voice high-pitched with hysteria. “Do I need to shoot him again?"

  He must have picked up the revolver belonging to the first gunman while the other guy and I exchanged fire. Neither of us had seen Camden move.

  “He’s dead,” I croaked.

  Camden dropped the gun, and I flinched as it clattered to the floor. All I needed was to get shot again by a stray bullet.

  Cam rushed to my side, his hands fluttering over my wounds. "What do I do? Oh God, please don't die!”

  “Shh. Take off my belt and fasten it around my arm, tight okay? I need to stop the bleeding. Then I’ll have you call someone for me.”

  Cam fumbled with my belt, his fingers clumsy. “Please be okay,” he said in a trembling voice. He looked over his shoulder nervously. “There won’t be more, will there?”

  Truthfully, I didn’t know. There could be a driver somewhere who would come investigate when the first two men didn’t return from the house. But if that was the case, we didn’t have a chance in hell. I’d rather Camden didn’t see his own death coming.

  I smiled for him. “No, babe. Look at me.”

  He looked down into my eyes, before his gaze strayed to my arm. “So much blood,” he whispered.

  Camden looked so pale, he could have been the one losing blood. But that was me, and if I wanted to stay conscious long enough to make the phone calls that were needed now, I needed to stop the bleeding.

  “Cam! Focus.”

  He blinked and swallowed hard.

  “The belt, Cam. Hurry.”

  “Right.” He took a deep breath to steady himself, but he finished pulling the belt from my pants and wrapped it around my arm, pulling it tight and buckling it, never faltering even as I shouted in pain.

  He brushed a hand over my head soothingly. “Shh. It’s done. Now, what? I should call 911, right?”

  “Yeah, but first get my phone out of my pocket. Select the initials AD and put it on speaker phone.”

  “You just looking for a cheap thrill?” he teased as he did as I asked.

  I grinned. “From you? Always. But it’s anything but cheap.”

  Cam’s smile faded and he focused on the phone in his hand, looking up the contact and hitting call.

  "Reid!” Dunn answered. “You better be calling because Lee is in a courtroom."

  “They found us.”

  “Shit! Lee?”

  “He wasn’t here. A bystander got caught in the mix, but he’s not hurt. I’ve been shot twice and both gang members are dead. I’ve got a mess here.”

  “Goddamn it. Can you contain this witness? I don't need to local PD mucking everything up. I’ll get the nearest field office to take point.”

  “What do you mean, contain?” Cam asked, sounding pissed.

  “Is that—”

  “Dunn, meet Camden Lewis, my real estate agent. Camden, he’s just asking if we can trust you to keep quiet so this can be handled by the US Marshals. This ties in to a big trial and witness protection issue, so it's a delicate situation.”

  Camden knew some of that already, but I figured it was best if Dunn didn’t know just how much I’d blown my cover before today.

  “Yeah, whatever,” Camden said. “I’d like to call 911 before Reid dies right before my eyes, if that’s okay with you?”

  There was a pause as Dunn and I digested Camden’s snarky tone. Then Dunn chuckled. “Yeah, you do that. Keep pressure on the wounds while you wait.”

  “I need to warn Lee. There could be a driver out there—”

  Camden gave me a sharp look, whether because he’d realized I’d sugarcoated our situation for him earlier or because I was preventing him from getting me to the hospital, I didn’t know. As I spoke to Dunn, Camden ripped off his shirt and pressed it against my side where a bullet had grazed me. The belt had slowed the flow of blood from my arm to a trickle at least.

  My ribs burned, but that pain was nothing compared to the blazing fury of hell going on in my arm or the shivers shaking my body with shock. I could feel a cold sweat dripping down my back, and I didn’t know how much longer I could go before I blacked out.

  “Give me the details. I’ll get someone to handle it. That bugged phone gave us the lead we needed on tracking down our bad apple. You’re done, Reid. We can take it from here.”

  I managed to relay the motel and room number before Camden stabbed the disconnect but
ton and called 911. I heard him talking with the dispatcher, but his voice was becoming distant, intermixed with the white noise in my head.

  He squeezed my hand, and I came back to myself a bit. “Hold on, Reid. Help is on the way. Just hold on.”

  “Trying,” I mumbled, my eyes falling closed.

  “Oh God, please be okay,” Camden said. “I love you. You know that? I really love you.”

  That’s the last thing I heard until I woke up in the hospital later.

  Chapter 24

  Camden

  Everything from the moment paramedics and police officers arrived was a blur. Reid was in and out of consciousness, and the officers tried to question me, but I resolutely refused to leave his side. It probably helped that I was a smidge hysterical. Tears ran down my face unchecked, and I was shaking so hard one of the paramedics tried to draw me away for treatment of my own. I refused that too.

  Eventually, they draped a blanket around my shoulders and left me alone. I assumed Reid’s contacts with the US Marshals Service had finally gotten through to them. I wasn’t sure if I’d have to give a statement at some point. Both of the gang members were dead, one of them by my hand. I was just some guy, not a former law enforcement official. I was scared of what the repercussions might be, and I was still shaken by the knowledge that I’d killed someone. Me. Camden Lewis.

  But mostly, I worried about Reid. He’d turned a pasty gray color and sweat beaded up along his hairline. If it weren’t for the paramedics working on him, I might have thought he was already dead. And that took all my emotional energy.

  I’d been scared out of my mind when I’d picked up that gun, but I knew I couldn’t stand by and watch Reid die. I clutched his hand tighter as the paramedics lifted his backboard onto a gurney. I stuck by his side. I didn’t care that I wasn’t family, and they didn’t seem to care either. I climbed in the ambulance and rode to the hospital with him.

  When we got there, they wheeled him behind doors where I couldn’t follow. I lost my shit for a while. Collapsing into a chair in the waiting room, I cried until I couldn’t produce tears any more. Then I stared blankly at a wall. I don’t know how long I was waiting there. It occurred to me once to wonder if Lee was safe, but the thought was fleeting. The US Marshals would have taken him somewhere safe, assuming no one else found him first. My thoughts went back to Reid and that sickly color he’d taken on.

  What if he died? He’d played it off like he got shot all the time. He’d made a fucking phone call before letting me call for paramedics for goodness sake! What if those few minutes were the difference between life and death? I didn’t know if I’d be able to forgive myself for letting him put off treatment. For not knowing better first aid in the first place.

  Hours, or maybe just minutes, ticked by. Time lost all meaning. At times, my mind was so full I wanted to run away from myself. Other times, I felt oddly empty of thought. My eyes glazed over and I just … existed.

  There was no crowd in the waiting room for Reid. He was here undercover. He had family somewhere, presumably, but I didn’t have their contact information.

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  I looked up to see a middle-aged man in surgical clothes. He’d pulled the face mask down so it hung around his neck. He still wore the cap.

  I stood quickly. “Yes?”

  “I’m told you came in with the patient?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, yes. I’m Camden Lewis. I’m not family, but we’re close. Very—”

  He smiled gently. “It’s okay, Camden. He’s been asking for you.”

  “He’s awake then?”

  “He’s in recovery now. He’ll be a bit groggy from the anesthesia for a while. But he was conscious briefly before surgery and asking for you at every opportunity. He asked that we keep you updated.”

  I went weak in the knees and had to sit down. “Oh, thank God.”

  The surgeon took a seat at my side and gave me a brief overview of Reid’s condition. Apparently, a bullet wound didn’t necessarily require surgery. But in this case, it had hit Reid’s humerus and they’d had to operate. He said something about pins and removing loose bone fragments. I tried to pay attention to the details, but all I could really grasp was that he was alive and should stay that way. That was what I needed to hear.

  “Can I see him?”

  He nodded. “He may not be fully aware of you, but he’s out of the woods. They’re moving him to a room now. If you check at reception, they can direct you to him.”

  “Thank you so much. For everything.”

  He accepted my handshake with good grace. “You’re very welcome, Camden. We’re always grateful when we can deliver good news.”

  Once he left, I went to reception and then to Reid’s room. I sat by his side and held his hand. And I was the first person he saw when he opened his eyes.

  “Cam,” he breathed.

  His color was much better. There was an IV in the top of his left hand and his right arm was bandaged and immobilized in a sling. But otherwise he didn’t look much different from someone recovering from a routine operation.

  “Reid, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  I thought I’d cried all the tears I could possibly make, but as I stood and leaned over him, they began to fall again. Reid raised his uninjured arm, brushing away a tear with his thumb.

  “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry I worried you.”

  I laughed a sob. “I’m sorry you had to rescue me. You saved my life.”

  “You saved mine.”

  “Mr. Bishop?”

  I turned to see a man in the doorway. He wasn’t wearing a police uniform, but something about his bearing told me he was law enforcement.

  “I’m Detective Drew Green. I’d like to ask you a few questions about the shooting and this fire,” he glanced down at a notebook, “that took place yesterday?”

  I stood up. “Now? Reid just came out of surgery!”

  The detective’s expression didn’t change with my outburst. I glanced back to see Reid was fading fast. His eyes drooped.

  I moved aside a bit so the detective could see. “He’s still groggy from the drugs. Surely anything he said wouldn’t be useful in court?”

  The detective looked grim. “Listen, Mr. …?”

  “Lewis.”

  “Mr. Lewis, I know this is a difficult time, but speed is crucial—”

  “Marshals Service,” Reid managed. “Call the field office.”

  His words slurred, and I patted his hand. “Just sleep, Reid.”

  I walked toward the door. “Maybe I could talk to you outside?”

  Detective Green tipped his head. “Fine.”

  Once outside in the hall, I drew on my reserves. I couldn’t be the airheaded twink right now. I wanted this man to listen to me, not write me off as hysterical.

  “I may have information about the fire,” I said.

  His eyebrows went up. “What’s that?”

  “I saw a woman around the property just before the fire. A real estate agent by the name of Sherrilyn Davenport. She seemed to be acting strange.”

  “Strange how?”

  “She was driving a different car than usual. She was dressed in old clothes, and usually she’s very dressy. And she didn’t acknowledge me when I called out to her. This was just minutes before the fire started.”

  “Which means you were at the house, as well?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I called in the fire immediately and I waited for Reid and Lee to arrive.”

  “Lee?”

  “Reid’s boyfriend.”

  His eyebrow ticked up further. Yeah, I guess I’d been sending out protective boyfriend vibes. Probably not the smartest move, even if Reid was “single.”

  “Where is this boyfriend now?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” At his skeptical look, I added: “It’s a long story.”

  “One that involves the US Marshals Service?”

  He sounded rueful rather than suspicious. He mu
st have heard from them even before Reid threw him that bone. His presence here to inquire about the shooting had concerned me that perhaps we’d be facing down a police interrogation regardless of what Reid’s contact said on the phone.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Pretty crazy stuff for Fields, Kansas, I guess.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d tell me what you know?”

  “The marshals—”

  “They’re not exactly filing a report with us. But this is our backyard. I’d like to know if I can expect more gunfights breaking out on quiet residential streets. If you can tell me something, off the record, I’d appreciate it, Mr. Lewis.”

  I shook my head. “All I really know is that two armed men grabbed me at Ivy Lane when I arrived to inspect the fire damage. I suspected it was arson, and I wanted to have a look around before I called the fire department and accused Sherrilyn. If Reid hadn’t shown up, I’m not sure what would have happened. Maybe I’d be dead.”

  “So, there was a shoot-out.”

  I didn’t see how refusing to answer would serve any purpose. Two men were dead. Reid was shot. There was obviously a shoot-out.

  “Yes.”

  “And now the US Marshals Service is saying they’ll head up the investigation.”

  I shrugged.

  He sighed. “Okay, so about this fire. You’re sure it’s not connected to today’s shooting?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” I said. “But why would they set fire to a place and then show up to shoot someone the next day? It was just luck I even went to the house, right? Most people don’t hang around their house after a fire.”

  He flipped open a notebook. “Okay, tell me more about this Sherrilyn. Why do you think she would set a fire?”

  I leaned back against the wall, suddenly exhausted. “I don’t know. She wanted to list the house. She made that clear. And recently I learned she was the widow of Aaron Winters.”

  “Why is that significant?”

  “The house was owned by Robert Winters. He was Reid’s great-uncle and had become a bit of a hermit after his son, Aaron, died. So, I don’t know why Sherrilyn would burn it down. But I heard rumors she was pretty upset she didn’t get the house in the will. And when she didn’t get the listing either …”