CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Karney’s, it turned out, was a major grocery store in Belgrave that Marti had once drove by when she first arrived in town. Although two patrol cars were already on the scene by the time the chief sped his Mercedes into the parking lot, but those cars and all four officers were across the street from the parking lot using their cars for cover and with their guns drawn. But gunshots could be heard, even in that moment, inside the store.
Grant couldn’t believe it. Marti couldn’t either. “What are they doing?” she asked, looking at the officers. “Why haven’t they gone inside?”
“That’s what I wanna know,” Grant said as they quickly got out of his car.
“Why aren’t you in?” Grant yelled at his men as he hurried to the trunk of his car.
“We were waiting for instructions, sir,” one of the patrolmen said.
“You hear gunfire you go and stop it,” Marti yelled at them. “Those are the instructions! What are you talking about?”
But Marti also noticed that Grant didn’t get on their case.
And that was by design. All four patrolmen were young, none with over a few years’ experience, and mass shootings wasn’t something they were accustomed to. Belgrave, in fact, had never had any mass shootings until this week. He grabbed his assault rifle from his trunk and ordered Marti to wait there. “And I mean wait here!” he ordered her.
Then he looked at his men. “Let’s go,” he said and they didn’t hesitate. They ran along the side of the store, their guns drawn and ready. Like Marti truly believed, his men would run through the fire for him if he told them to. They all moved to the store’s front entrance and, with Grant leading the way, they ran inside of the hot crime scene.
But when she saw Grant leading the charge, she felt a sudden pain shoot through her body. And she was suddenly frightened for him. That was why she decided to disregard his order, pulled out her own gun, and ran around the back.
She could tell that most of the gunfire was coming from the back of the store and if she could get in back and Grant and his men were up front, then that could create a critical mass that would force the gunman into the middle of gunfire from both directions. She was also betting that the back of the store was open because on police radio, as they were traveling to the scene, it was mentioned that many of the employees and customers had fled to the hardware store next door when the gunman first arrived. Which, for a man seeking to kill as many people in as fast a time as possible, would have meant he went in through the front. Which, following her logic, the customers and employees fled through the back. She was willing to bet that none of them bothered to close the door as they fled.
She realized she was right when she saw the back door wide open. And she didn’t hesitate. She ran in as fast as she could. Her entire focus was to save as many people as she possibly could. And Grant, too, while she was at it.
As soon as she ran inside, she could see the gunman on the far right aisle running toward the front exchanging gunfire with Grant and his men. She ran to the far left aisle and followed his movements, her gun ready to fire.
But just as the gunman stopped running and began firing on Grant and his men, and just as she was about to give away her position and fire on him, she noticed another gunman that was locked and loaded and ready to ambush Grant and his men from the back. She knew then she had to forget about the first gunman and take out the second gunman, the ambusher, before he took out Grant.
Problem was she hadn’t fired her weapon in four long years. Not since that night on her patio.
And as she ran as fast as she could to get an angle for her shot, and as soon as the second gunman stopped for his ambush attack, and was aimed and ready to fire on Grant and his men, Marti froze for a second. A flashback flew across her vision, of her standing on her patio firing shot after shot into Andy Sloan. And, by extension , into her own child.
What if she missed?
What if she hit another innocent bystander?
But what if that gunman shot and killed Grant McGraw?
And it was that what if that steeled her resolve, controlled her hammering heart, and she stopped hesitating and fired on that gunman in rapid succession. She nearly emptied her weapon firing on him.
And as soon as Marti’s shots were fired at the second gunman, taking him out, the first gunman looked over in shock and turned his weapon on Marti. But Grant took full advantage of his sudden distraction and fired on him. Grant was an excellent shot. The first gunman fell too.
“Don’t fire!” Marti yelled out to Grant’s cops when they turned to fire on whomever was shooting in the back. “It’s me, Marti Nash. The consultant! Don’t shoot!”
But two of those patrolmen fired on her anyway, causing her to hit the floor.
Grant was pissed. “Didn’t you hear her?” he yelled at his men. “Stop shooting!” He angrily pushed both trigger-happy men aside as he ran toward the far left aisle. Then he frantically called out for Marti. “Marti?” he yelled out. “ Marti ?!”
“I’m okay!” Marti yelled back when she heard the panic in the chief’s voice. But when he appeared on her aisle, she felt nothing but relief. She was on the floor, but only because she hit the deck because she assumed his men, nervous and green, would shoot anyway. That was why they missed. She didn’t take any chances. “Make sure the store is clear!” she yelled to Grant. “Make sure there are no more gunmen!”
“Check the store!” Grant yelled to his men, they yelled yes, sir , and Grant hurried to Marti. He was more concerned about her than anybody else in that store, especially when he saw her on the floor.
“Were you hit?” he asked her anxiously as he knelt down to her. More cops were running into the store as even more sirens could be heard arriving too. They had full backup now.
Marti sat up on her butt. “I wasn’t hit. I got down because I assumed incoming was heading my way.”
“Why would you make that assumption?” Grant was looking over her body to satisfy himself that she was okay. “Because of how poorly run this department is?”
Marti looked him in his beautiful, but anguished blue eyes. “Yes,” she said without batting an eye. “No bullshit, right?”
He exhaled. He’d never met anybody like her. Then he nodded his head. And helped her to her feet.
Marti appreciated that he was not a defensive man.
He wasn’t an emotional man either. But when she got on her feet, he couldn’t help himself. He pulled her into his arms.
Some of his men saw the chief hugging her, and she saw them elbow each other, and she knew it was highly inappropriate, but her heart was hammering. She was still shaking. She could have easily missed her target and became the target herself. For those reasons, when Grant pulled her into his arms, she allowed it. It became the first time anyone had held her in years. She needed it.
Grant needed it too. Because his heart was hammering even harder than hers. He thought she had been hit. He thought one of his dumb-ass guys had surely taken her out. But when he realized she was okay, he couldn’t help it. He had to hold her. He just had to.
But when he heard RJ’s voice up front, and he knew his senior people had arrived, he ended the embrace. He didn’t want them thinking for a second that she was some easy tart they could try their luck with too.
But when he and Marti pulled apart, and looked into each other’s eyes, a sweet, warm feeling overtook them both. And Grant actually smiled, with those lines of age beginning to appear around his eyes, and he squeezed her arm. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said to her.
Marti smiled, too, and touched his arm. “Glad you are as well,” she said.
It was awkward, because neither one of them were touchy-feely people, but for that same reason it was powerful too. It was no breakthrough. Neither one of them were trying to do anything more than be pleased that they both got out of that shooting alive, but it did feel different. Even great.
But then RJ and Pete Kerrigan showed up and Grant was pulled away to speak with several witnesses at the hardware store next door. But not before he fired on the spot both of the cops that didn’t heed Marti’s call out, and they shot at her anyway.
“I want you both as far away from my police department as you can get!” he yelled at the two men. “She announced who she was and you shot at her anyway? You’re fired! Both of you. You’re fired!”
Although Marti knew she could follow Grant to question the witnesses, she was never big on eyewitness accounts. She, instead, wanted to see the video footage. She hurried to the store manager’s office where the monitors were housed. But Pete Kerrigan blocked her access. “Chief has to give permission,” he said.
“No he doesn’t,” Marti said and dared him to say otherwise.
When he didn’t take her dare, she remained in the video room, too, and watched the footage with Kerrigan, two other detectives, and the store manager. They knew who did it, but Marti wanted to know how. That way, if another mass shooting ever occurred, Grant and his department would have more information on how it worked. She saw the first gunman walked in and started shooting almost immediately. But she realized the second shooter was already inside the store, pretending to be a customer.
“There he is,” she said and Pete and the manager looked closer.
They realized the second gunman had hid in the office that a lot of the customers ran into. And that was when he pulled out his weapon and took them all out. It would not have been a mass casualty event, but for that second gunman in that confined office setting, shooting everybody in his wake. As if, to Marti, the person they came to kill was in that office. A premeditated personal murder, perhaps, masquerading as a mass shooting? It was gruesome to see.
But after the video, she mostly observed. Most of the guys she walked up on were talking more about their sexual exploits than any police work, until they realized she was near. Then the focus shifted entirely to police work. But nothing deep. They didn’t seem to know anything deep. It was a telling indictment.
But she continued to move around. She would see the chief occasionally, but the mayor and the press showed up and he had to cater to them. So she was once again on her own. But the fact that he had held her, and that she liked that feeling he gave to her, weighed heavily on her mind. She wasn’t ready to go down a road like that. Or was she? The fact that it wasn’t clear to her anymore was what alarmed her.
“It’s been a long day.”
RJ walked over to Marti as she leaned against the chief’s car in the cordoned off street waiting for him to come outside too. By now it was almost six pm.
“It’s been a long day,” RJ said again when he made it over to Marti.
“A very long day,” Marti said. “Captain Jeffers, right?”
RJ plastered on that fake smile he was famous for, although very few people saw it for what it was. Marti saw it for what it was. “At your service,” he said with a bow. “How did you know? Chief McGraw introduced you to us, but he didn’t introduce us to you.”
“Let’s just say you stand out in the crowd,” Marti said, and RJ laughed.
“I feel you sister. I most certainly feel you. But listen: Chief told me to give you a ride to your hotel room. He said he’ll be here for hours more.”
Marti would have expected the chief to dismiss her himself, but the fact that he couldn’t take the time out to do it himself managed to bring her back to earth. That was why she knew better than to get her hopes up. That was why she knew not to put any stock whatsoever in that embrace. It was an in the moment reaction and nothing more. And why would Captain Jeffers offer to take her to her hotel, but not to the police station to pick up her car? Which would have made more practical sense.
But she was there to get intel on what exactly was wrong with the department. Captain Jeffers was an inside source. She could catch an Uber to work in the morning and get her car then. It would be in her per diem. And given the men she was dealing with, it just might be her only chance to get any inside information. “Thanks,” she said, and gladly got into the unmarked police car he was driving.
But less than fifteen minutes later, after they had gone, Grant came outside looking for Marti. He was shocked to hear that she had already gone.
Without saying goodbye ? he thought. “She’s already gone?” he asked.
“About fifteen minutes ago, yes, sir,” Pete said. But when he added, “RJ gave her a ride to her hotel,” Grant’s anger flared, he hopped into his car, and he sped away.
A detective, who was standing nearby, walked over to Pete smiling. “What was that all about, Lieutenant Pete?”
“If I didn’t know any better,” Pete replied, “I’d say our chief is smitten.”
“Chief McGraw? With all those females he fools around with? And smitten with some consultant? Give me a break!”
But Pete held firm. He’d been on the force almost as long as that detective had been alive. And the chief giving a damn that one of his men might actually sleep with that consultant was not the chief he knew. Not by a longshot. Not by fifty miles.
Besides, Pete was hopeful. Because he knew, if RJ got some, he was going to get some eventually too. That was how it worked at the senior levels of the Belgrave PD. They had no problem passing their side pieces around, although, Pete inwardly knew, their chief had never passed anyone around. He would have to go, like he knew RJ was going, behind the chief’s back.
“Enough about the chief,” Pete finally said. “Let’s wrap this shit up and go home. Both perps are dead. What the hell are we still hanging around here for?”
“Something they call police investigation perhaps,” the detective jokingly said.
“Police investigation?” asked Pete. “What’s that?”
And both men laughed.