“What are you doing?”
“Being sad.”
“You look like a clown.”
“I feel like a clown.”
Lexi tossed her script onto the coffee table and let out a deep sigh. “Forget it. I’ll wait till Cassie gets here. Thanks for trying, Dad.”
Lawson couldn’t help but feel relieved. Even though he had moved to LA, bought this house in the hills with the money they found in the walls of De Luca’s office, and tried to make a home in Hollywood so his thirteen-year-old daughter could chase her dream of becoming an actress, he didn’t know he would be expected to be an actor too. The past year he’d been doing nothing but playing catch-up, learning how to be a dad, a friend, and even just getting used to being a civilian again. The ten years in prison changed him. And no matter how hard he tried, he’d never be the man he was before he lost everything.
The doorbell rang.
Lexi bolted for the door. “Make Cassie that drink she likes. You know she’ll want one as soon as she walks in.”
Lawson smiled. He had often thanked the gods that Lexi was 99 percent her mother. But every once in a while he could see that one percent of himself come through. Lexi could read people. She studied them. Much like Lawson. It made him a good detective and agent, and he figured it would go a long way in helping Lexi get into character as an actress. He was glad he could help her in at least one positive way.
Lexi opened the door and Cassie hurried through. She looked just like an FBI agent. The black pantsuit, her long blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, and the ever-present bulge of her sidearm jutting out from her hip. Though she was no longer with the FBI, the private investigation firm she had opened let her be exactly who she was. A fiercely tough, smart-as-a-whip woman, and one hell of a detective.
“Hey guys,” Cassie said in a huff. “What a day. Lawson, make me one of those bourbon lemonades, would you?”
Lexi leaned out from behind Cassie and gave her dad a smile. Lawson gave her a wink from the kitchen. She’d read Cassie like a book.
“Already got it started.” Lawson poured the honey and the lemonade into a shaker and gave it a few tosses. “What’s got you all frazzled today?”
Lawson took a sip of his Blanton’s bourbon. Neat. He didn’t need all the sweeteners.
Cassie looked between Lexi and Lawson as she took a seat on the stool at the kitchen’s center island. “Well, you actually.”
Lexi took a sip of her honey lemonade. No bourbon. “What’d you do now, Dad?”
Lawson pushed Cassie’s drink over to her, and she downed it in one slug. “Good thing I made a couple.” Then to Lexi. “Honey, can you go—”
“I know, I know. Go do something somewhere else so you two can talk about something.”
Lawson smiled. She was her mother through and through. And far too mature for a thirteen-year-old. “We’ll only need a minute.”
Lexi held up her palm—talk to the hand—and walked to her upstairs bedroom.
Cassie jumped right in. “What the hell are you doing, Lawson? You’ll do a job for someone, but you won’t come and work with me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Save it, big guy.” Cassie pointed at the wounds on Lawson’s knuckles. “I know you haven’t just been doing push-ups and running the Hollywood Hills until the soles of your shoes are worn out. I saw the video. Do you realize who you tuned up in that bar?”
“Tuned up?” Lawson took a drink. “What is this, 1954?”
“Don’t.” Cassie shook her head emphatically as she grabbed the shaker and poured her second drink.
“Don’t what?” Lawson was going to play dumb until Cassie’s head exploded.
“Don’t do this thing where you play dumb just to frustrate me. It never kept you from telling me when we were partners, and it sure as hell won’t get you out of telling me what happened now.”
Lawson thought he could see smoke starting to billow from her ears.
“Okay, Cass. Who did I ‘tune up’? And why does it matter?”
“Oh, no one really. Just Hollywood’s finest fixer. You really enjoy having the worst criminals on your bad side, don’t you?”
Lawson knew by “worst criminals” that she was referring to the swath of crooked officials and organized crime members that he battled in Vegas.
“I didn’t know.”
Cassie called him out. “Bullshit, Raines. You always know. But you did it anyway. Why?”
About a month ago Lawson took Lexi to her first real audition. She’d been working with an acting coach, a voice coach, and seemingly every other kind of coach since they arrived in LA six months ago. The part was the lead in a new Disney movie. An ambitious first role. Lawson cautiously encouraged her and went along to offer support. It felt good to be her dad again.
While they were there, one of the producers—and unbeknownst to Lawson an A-list filmmaker—Victoria Marshall—commented on Lawson’s size. Told him he should be in movies. When he introduced himself, bypassing the comment, she recognized his name. Nero De Luca, the crime boss Lawson had taken out a year before, apparently had invested in one of her movies. So when he died, she read the story and heard about the former FBI agent who had hacked his way through De Luca’s entire crew, almost single-handedly.
Lawson thought nothing of it. As he did whenever that story came up, he downplayed it until the person who brought it up stopped talking. But later that night, Victoria called him. She started by saying that she was extremely impressed by Lexi, but the call was to hire him. Long story short, she was getting pressured by some Hollywood powerhouses to bring a coveted script to a certain production company, and she was nervous about a meeting they were forcing her to take. Lawson said twice that he wasn’t interested—even though he needed the money, what with the house in the hills and all of Lexi’s coaches—but the promise of Lexi going to the top of the list for this big role ultimately was too much for him to turn down. Ten years without being able to be a father to his daughter made him eager to make up for it.
But even then he knew he shouldn’t get involved at Victoria’s meeting. And from the sound of it, Cassie was letting him know that his instinct to stay away had been a good one. But he didn’t listen to it. And he knew that he was about to hear exactly why he should have.
Unfortunately, the situation was a lot worse than he and Cassie would have ever guessed.
4
Lawson walked Cassie out, gave her a hug, and ignored the concerned look on her face as he shut the front door. He turned back to the all-open room, a kitchen, dining, and family room combo. Tall ceilings, modern aesthetics, and a TV over the fireplace that Lawson only watched when Lexi made him. He cared about none of it. Lexi and Cassie picked out the house. He could have lived in a two-bedroom apartment. Space didn’t matter to him. Living in an eight-by-eight cell for ten years had that affect. Lexi thought it was cool that it used to be some actress’s home, but it was someone Lawson had never heard of. She was really famous at one time, and Lexi thought it might rub off on her. Not to mention the stars who apparently were their neighbors. Again, Lawson didn’t care. As long as Lexi was happy, he was happy.
Which is why the news of the man he had protected Victoria Marshall from was disturbing. People like Clint Hues retaliate. And by trying to help Lexi get a part in a movie, he had inadvertently put her in danger. A mistake he was regretting as he poured another bourbon. Of course Cassie was right. Lawson had done his homework before Victoria’s meeting. All he really wanted to do at the bar was be a fly on the wall, and be there in case Victoria’s life was in danger. In fact, he told himself he wouldn’t do anything unless he saw a weapon. He really hadn’t meant to intervene. Especially in the violent way that he had. But when he saw this Clint guy grab Victoria’s wrist so forcefully, something in him snapped. He supposed it was what happened to his wife, Lauren. Even before then, he had never tolerated a man putting his hands on a woman. Ever.
So, he d
id what any natural protector would do, and he bloodied all three men. With a special message to Clint as he lay bleeding on the floor. You feel like a big man now? The words replayed in Lawson’s mind. When he said them, he was crouched over Clint on the floor of the bar. You remember what this feels like. You understand me? Remember it next time you put your hands on a woman. Then he walked out of the bar. Lawson imagined that this “fixer” would remember. And he would try to “fix” Lawson for it too. Even if Lexi gets the part and goes on to fulfill her dreams, it might not be worth what was coming. Men like Clint, when they get embarrassed, word gets around. Their reputation is their livelihood. He would want his revenge.
And as bad as all of that was, it was worse. Cassie’s news that the video made its way to the FBI took things to another level. Not because they would question him. He wasn’t worried about the police. They didn’t really go hard after a man who took down scum. His concern was that if the FBI had the video, and police had the video, whoever helped Clint Hues run his operation would also have a video. Lawson’s face wasn’t a hard one to track. It had been all over the news on multiple occasions in his life. They would be onto him soon, and he would need to be prepared.
“That’s probably enough of that stuff, don’t you think, Dad?”
Lawson jumped when he heard his daughter’s voice. He gave her the eye. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”
Thirty-six years old and his thirteen-year-old daughter already knew better than he did. But he finished the drink anyway. He finished it right before three loud bangs sounded off somewhere outside the house, followed by the screeching of tires as a car went speeding away.
Lawson moved for his Sig Sauer P226 he kept in the top drawer.
“Lexi, get upstairs and lock your door. Now!”
He’d heard gunshots enough in his life to know that is exactly what had gone off outside. He pulled back the slide on his gun, loading a bullet, and walked over to the wall of windows that overlooked the driveway and front lawn. He searched the darkness for any sign of movement, but couldn’t find anything. Then the front light came on. He jerked around, Lexi hadn’t listened. Instead, she had hit the light and was searching for something through an adjacent window.
“Lexi!”
“Dad! I see someone!”
Lawson ran over and put Lexi behind him. “Where?”
Lexi angled around him and pointed to a dark spot out to the left. “There! Someone’s on the ground. You think they’re okay?”
It was faint, but Lawson could just make out what looked like a person lying on the ground. He turned to Lexi. “Lock this door behind me. Don’t open it for anyone. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“You want me to call the police?”
The bar fight flashed across Lawson’s mind. “No. Just stay put. I’ll check it out. Maybe it’s nothing.”
Lexi nodded. Lawson opened the front door, shut it behind him, and waited until he heard Lexi turn the dead bolt. Beyond the light of the porch was pure darkness. It extended halfway into the front lawn. Where he’d seen a body on the ground a moment ago, he now saw nothing. He tightened his grip on his gun and moved down the steps onto the driveway. He felt exposed. He walked back up, unscrewed the lightbulb in the sconce, and moved back down. He could no longer see in the darkness, but neither could anyone else if they were waiting. He took a few steps forward. All he could hear was the distant sound of traffic from Hollywood Boulevard and a small chorus of insects. As his feet got their first feel of grass, he finally heard something else.
A cat?
He took another step. He heard another low and soft groan.
A woman?
Lawson raised his pistol as he lowered himself to a knee. He squinted into the night, searching for any sign of movement.
A soft call came from a woman not far away. “Help me. Please.”
“Who are you?” Lawson finally said, the tip of his gun searching in front of him.
“Please help. They shot me.”
Lawson moved forward slowly. Worried it could be a trap, his mind was racing.
“Please, it hurts.”
Then came sobs.
Lawson moved forward quickly, and he nearly tripped over her in the darkness. When he reached down to feel for her body, she winced, and he felt something wet.
“Are you alone?”
He could barely see her.
“Yes. Can you help me?” The woman managed through muffled tears.
“Where are you hurt?”
“My left arm . . . it burns.”
Lawson felt for her right side, scooped her into his arms, and began walking back to the house. As she cried, his mind ran through the scenario. A woman being shot and wandering onto his property? It was as unlikely of a coincidence as anything he could think of. It was even crazier considering it happened just forty-eight hours after Lawson busted up a notorious criminal. He couldn’t see a way the two could be connected, but it was almost as difficult to think of a way it couldn’t be. He believed that coincidences do happen. But one so quick on the heels of an extraordinary event like two nights ago didn’t seem plausible. Regardless, a woman was bleeding badly, and he needed to get her some help.
Lawson kicked at the bottom of the front door. “Lexi! Let me in!”
Not a second later the front door was flung open. Lexi stepped back. She was seeing what Lawson had felt: the blood on the woman in the cocktail dress.
“Get me some towels, a belt, and the keys to the car.”
The woman jerked her head over and looked up at Lawson. She was stunning.
“Car keys?”
“Yeah, I have to get you to a hospital.”
“You can’t . . . I can’t go to the hospital.” There was fear on her face.
“Lexi, get what I asked you to get and let’s get out of here.”
Lexi took two more steps back but didn’t leave the room. Her eyes didn’t leave the woman’s face. She was looking at her as if she recognized her.
“Lexi, what is it? Do you know her?”
The woman shot a look at Lexi, then turned back to Lawson and clutched his arm.
“I can’t go to the hospital. Please. Just . . . just help me stop the bleeding and I’ll go.”
Lawson was confused. In the light he could clearly see she was shot in the arm. No scenario of someone getting shot ended without going to the hospital. Unless . . .
“Are you a criminal?” Lawson said. “That why you don’t want to go? ’Cause I can just call the police.”
Lawson didn’t need this complication. Not now. Not with the battle he knew he was about to have regarding his actions at the bar.
Surprisingly, Lexi spoke before the woman could.
“She’s not a criminal, Dad.”
Lawson looked at his daughter. “How could you know that?”
“Because literally everyone knows that.”
Lawson looked down at the beautiful woman in his arms. Then back at Lexi. “I guess I’m not everyone. So spill it.”
“She’s an actress, Dad. Probably the most famous one in the world.”
5
Lexi finished laying out the towels on the couch. Lawson walked over and laid the woman down. He stood to take inventory of her wound. By no means was he a doctor, but he had been around long enough to know if something serious like an artery had been hit.
“Looks like you got lucky,” he said as he removed his shirt.
The woman was clearly taken aback by Lawson’s size. The extent of his muscular frame wasn’t a sight she saw all that often. She moved her eyes from his body to her arm.
“You call getting shot lucky?” Then she winced again, clearly in a great deal of pain.
Lawson ignored her and tied his shirt tightly around her upper arm, just above the bullet wound. The bleeding had slowed, but he wanted to make sure he gave it the best chance he could to clot.
“Lexi, call an ambulance. And then call the police.”
He’d thou
ght it over. It could bring nothing but trouble if he didn’t call this in. No matter how bad it looked that he’d been in the bar fight, and then this happened on his property, it would be worse when the police came sniffing around and he hadn’t called in an attempted murder.
Once again, the woman clawed at Lawson. There was genuine fear in her eyes.
“You can’t!”
She tried to sit up. Lawson took her by the shoulders and coached her back down.
“You can’t call the police. Please!”
Lawson didn’t understand. If she didn’t do anything wrong, why wouldn’t she want help? Help getting her wound tended to, and help finding out who did this and why.
“You have to relax. And I have to call this in. There is no reason—”
“You don’t understand. No one can find out about this!”
Lawson stood. “You have five seconds to make me understand. Otherwise I’m calling you an ambulance. I’m not putting my daughter in danger by being an accomplice to whatever the hell this is.”
The woman nodded. “Like your daughter said, I’m an actress. A very famous one. But I took some bad advice, and the wrong roles, and my last two movies didn’t do so well. I am in talks to star in a movie that will put my career back on track, but if word of this gets out right now, they will drop me for sure. I know this doesn’t seem like a big deal to you, but I have been through a lot in the last couple years, and I need this.” Her eyes began to well up with tears. “I need this.”
Lawson took a water bottle from the coffee table and handed it to her. “Sorry. But your career isn’t worth endangering my daughter.”
Lawson pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Wait, Dad—”
Lawson held up his hand. “Lexi, go get her a blanket.”
“But, Dad, just listen to her. Please—”
“Lexi.”
“Please,” the woman said. “Just hear me out.”
Lawson knew better than to hear her out. He knew what he should do. But there was something about her that made him listen. Maybe it was his daughter pleading with him that made him put his phone back in his pocket. Lexi had never begged him for anything. He knew it was wrong, but he was at least going to wait for her to say her piece. Then he would call.
Shooting Star Page 2