Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
M aya couldn’t stop the shaking. Or was she shivering? Shivering. She rubbed her bare arms, wishing wherever they were going, they’d be there soon. They were driving farther away from her apartment; that much she knew. She glanced down at the phone. Damn Chandler. He always chose the worst time to call. It was as if he had a sense when a black cloud was over her head.
They turned abruptly into a parking garage. When they parked next to the elevators, the door opened, and two men wearing suits appeared. “Out, now.” Elliot’s tone left no room for argument.
The woman she didn’t know got out of the vehicle at the same time as Elliot and the man she assumed was Smoke. At least, that was what she thought Elliot had said earlier in the evening.
“Ms. Solomon, these men will make sure you get home safely, and they’ll remain with you until we know what happened tonight. Conner will call you when you get home to let you know what he can.”
“Thank you.” Olivia turned to Maya. “Listen to these people. They’re the best.” Maya nodded, and Olivia hugged her before leaving with the two men.
“We’re going upstairs. Questions need to be answered before we move you again,” Elliot said as he placed his hand on her back and moved her toward the elevator.
“We’ll see you another time.” Smoke waved goodbye as he settled into the driver’s seat. “Thanks for the eventful evening.”
Elliot snorted and pushed the elevator button, closing the door. As soon as it was shut, he turned to her. “Are you okay?”
She lifted her shaking hand, which he took in his. “I’m not. I’m really not.” Tears formed in her eyes. “Why would someone shoot at us? Why is this happening?”
“I don’t have any answers. Yet.” Elliot used his thumb to wipe away a tear that slipped over her lower lid, holding her hand close to his hard chest. “You’re safe with me. Never doubt that. No matter what happens, you will always be safe with me.”
Maya looked up into those intensely gray eyes. His confidence shone in that gaze. “Is all this related? Is this about my IPO? Have I caused all this?”
He cupped her cheek, and she leaned into the warmth and comfort of his hand. “None of this is your fault.” He stared down at her. “We’re almost to the floor we need. Now, show me that kickass businesswoman.” He pushed the stop button on the elevator.
She huffed out a laugh and sniffed, drawing away from him. “She ran away when guns started shooting at her. Ask me later, and I’ll tell you why.”
“I’ll do that, but now I need to know you’re okay. Do you need anything? Do you need to wait? We can sit in an office alone until you’re ready to go forward.” His touch was gentle, almost loving. She closed her eyes, and another tear fell down her cheek. “I need you. I just need you.” She opened her eyes and stared up at him.
“You have me. I promise you that.” He held her stare, and she nodded. She believed him. He broke their moment by hitting the button and starting the elevator again. He turned just as the door opened.
“Elliot, do you think you could not destroy Midtown?” The man greeting them had his hand on his hips, a gun in a shoulder holster, and a badge on his belt.
Elliot put his hand on her back and escorted her out of the elevator. “Ross Stapleton, this is Maya Callahan. Maya, Ross runs operations for Guardian in New York.”
The man extended his hand to her. “Ma’am.”
She shook his hand. “Thank you for the two who helped us tonight.”
Ross’s eyebrows shot up. “I had nothing to do with that. Charley saw the request and was on it. Based on the fact she’s so high up on the food chain, she has her pick of what she’s going to do.”
“Amen to that,” Elliot said. “Can you bring us up to speed?”
“Right this way.” Ross led them down a hall to a small conference room, where water, coffee, and an array of sodas were on a table. Elliot pulled out a ginger ale and opened it. He poured it into a cup and gave it to her. “You need the sugar.”
She frowned at him. “Why?”
“Because you’re going to crash,” Ross said. “Even some of my most experienced operatives grab a candy bar or soda after an event like you had tonight. It helps with the shakes. Those are caused by your body trying to process all that adrenaline. The sugar helps, or that’s our belief. I doubt if there’s any science behind it.”
She took a sip of the fizzy drink and realized she was thirsty. She sat down and took another drink. She didn’t care if there was science behind it. If it worked to stop the shaking, she was all for it. Elliot stood behind her, his hand on her chair, and she thanked her lucky stars the man was her protector.
“Okay, so this is what we have so far.” Ross clicked a remote, and a screen powered up. “The knife in the box and the one found in Maya’s bathroom are not common. They’re specialty knives and expensive. We have people going to the high-end stores that sell them. I doubt we’ll come up with anything, but it’s worth a shot. There are no prints on the hilt or blade. Lab techs said the blood on both are from the rats that were killed. The box had a partial print on a piece of tape, but not enough to run a search. However, we can compare it to any suspects.”
Elliot sat down beside her. “And the slashed tires?”
“Dead end. The tires were sent to be shredded and recycled.” Ross hit the button again, bringing up a slide with a picture on it. “The false info dump was given to this reporter. She’s with an online magazine. We have an interview with her tomorrow. Traditionally, reporters won’t give up their sources, but she was burned on this tip, and her credibility is now in question, so maybe she’ll roll.”
“And tonight?” Maya asked, setting her empty paper cup down on the table.
Elliot filled it up again and pushed it back toward her. “How did the man who ran onto the stage know about the bomb threat before we did?”
Ross frowned. “What?”
“We evacuated because a man ran across the stage and told the emcee about the bomb threat. Con was monitoring NYPD channels and heard it broadcast after we were told to leave,” Elliot explained.
“Hold on.” Ross picked up the phone on the conference table and hit a button. “This is Stapleton. Get a hold of any footage on the scene. Especially aimed toward the stage.”
“Con has it and is sending it to your inbox,” Elliot repeated, pointing to his ear.
“Have they found any explosives?”
“Bomb squad is clearing the building now.”
Maya looked at him and the earpiece in his ear. She could barely see it. Ross canceled the request. “Has he processed for an ID on the man on the stage?” Ross asked.
Elliot tipped his head and nodded. “He’s running it against all databases. He only has a profile, but it should be enough.”
“Alright. My people tell me we have recovered bullets from the building and will process them through ballistics, and we’ll put them through on a priority. Con has already sent the street footage of the shooter Smoke chased.”
“Was anyone injured?” Maya asked. Both men turned to her. She frowned. “There were a lot of shots, and we weren’t the only ones trying to leave. I know it was an affluent crowd, but if one of the workers were hurt, they’d need help with medical bills. I’d like to do that.”
Ross smiled at her. “I’ll let the hospital staff know. My husband is the chief of surgery there.”
“So, people were hurt?” She put her empty cup down.
“Two were injured, two were killed.”
“What!” Maya stood up. “Who? Oh my God.” She started shaking again.
Elliot was next to her and wrapped her in his arms immediately. She leaned into him and started to cry. “Why? Why did someone do this?” She let all the emotion go and had no idea how long she cried. When she realized Elliot was rocking side to side slowly while holding her, she jerked back and looked across the table. Talk about things out of her character. Crying, rocking like a scared child … she put her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“Never be sorry for needing someone. Ross is down the hall checking on the people who were injured.”
She dropped her head against his chest. “I’m sorry.” She hiccupped and accepted a tissue that appeared beside her face. Another thing out of character—she kept apologizing to him.
“You’ve been shot at. Again, there’s nothing to be sorry about.”
“But you’re not falling apart.”
He laughed, and the rumble vibrated through his chest. “You should have seen me after my first firefight in the military. God knows I was a mess.”
“You were in the military?” She pushed back and looked up at him.
“I was. Are you going to tell me why you don’t like guns?”
She wiped at her eyes and then turned away from him to blow her nose. Another tissue appeared in front of her, and she took it. “I’m adopted.”
“I know,” Elliot said from behind her. “That was in my briefing when I took your case.”
Maya nodded. “My birth mom came to see me when I was ten. My adoptive parents said she reached out to them and asked if she could meet me. She didn’t want anything but to explain why she gave me up. Since they’d also been open with me about being adopted, they said as long as they could supervise the meeting, they were fine with it. We didn’t live in a good area. My dad had lost his job, and my mom was sick. We had to move several times. The houses got smaller and smaller. Finally, we lived in a walk-up apartment in a really tough neighborhood. We were on the stairs, waiting for her. She was walking up the steps, her smile was huge, and she looked a lot like me. A car drove by and sprayed our side of the street with bullets. She was hit several times and died without saying a word to me. My mom was hit in the leg, and my dad covered me. He got hit with chips from the brick, but nothing serious.”
“Did they find out who did it?”
“The police said it was most likely gang violence. A turf war of some kind was always going on. The men they believed responsible for shooting at us were found two days later, dead in an alley. A rival gang had executed them.” She sighed. “We lived in that apartment for ten years. My mom died. She was always fragile. Dad worked two jobs, and when I graduated high school, he and I applied for every grant we could find. I went to college. He died of a heart attack at his second job. That’s why I hate guns, and that’s why money makes me happy. Not having it growing up makes it very enticing.”
“It would. Thank you for sharing that with me.” He reached for another tissue. “You have a bit of …” He pointed at her eyes.
Maya grabbed the tissue. “Is there a bathroom?”
“This way.” He led her from the conference room down the hall to the ladies’ room. She went in and looked at her face. Mascara ringed her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She would have laughed at the pathetic sight she made if she weren’t so spent. Instead, she flipped her hair back and filled her hand with soap from the dispenser. She’d wash off the makeup. If only she could wipe off the events of the night as easily.