Chapter Six
Nico sat at Owen’s desk at the Outlaw Ridge PD and studied the feed from the security camera at his family’s estate. Beside him in the chair that she’d dragged over, Callie was shoulder to shoulder with him and doing the same. But he also figured she was still mentally leveling herself out.
He certainly was.
Hard to come down after nearly being murdered three hours earlier. Hard not to hear and feel the sounds of those shots that’d come so damn close to killing Callie, his father, and him. Along with his father, they’d gotten damn lucky, coming away from the ordeal with minor injuries, and in Stefano’s case, no injuries at all.
Still, there’d be emotional hell to pay, and Nico knew from experience that the aftermath could be just as much of a bear than the ordeal itself. That’s why he needed answers, and to get those, he had to be focused. Nico concentrated on the camera feed and made himself look for anything that was there that would help him ID who the gunman was.
One thing was for certain, it wasn’t Tucker Langston.
Shortly after Callie and he had returned to the police station to give their statements about the attack, Owen had pulled up Tucker’s DMV photo, and it definitely hadn’t been him in that blue truck. Tucker had blond hair, and while he had some muscles, his face was slender. Added to that, he was only twenty-eight, and Nico thought the man who’d tried to kill them was at least a decade older.
And they had no idea who he was.
The lab tech guys were attempting facial recognition on some of the clearer images pulled from the camera feed, and so far, they’d gotten a big goose egg identifying the shooter.
“I don’t see anyone else in the truck,” Callie muttered, leaning in closer to one of the images.
Nico made a sound of agreement. No matter what angle or lighting adjustments they made on the feed, there was no indication this asshole had an accomplice with him.
“Considering the way he’s parked, he probably came from the direction of town,” she added.
Yeah, he’d noticed that, too, and it was the reason he made a mental note to ask Owen to put out the word for anyone to come forward if they had seen the truck or the driver. It was possible the guy had stopped somewhere in town, but that was probably a long shot. More likely, he’d followed Callie and him to the estate, and once they’d gone inside, then he could have pulled up level with the gate so he could shoot them when they came out.
But that left Nico with a big assed concern.
One that Callie voiced. “Dante would have possibly seen him when he left.”
“Or Dante could have done more than that. He could have been the one to hire him.”
“Yes,” she agreed while she guzzled another Coke.
It was her third can since their return, and he wondered if she was using the caffeine and sugar to counteract the adrenaline crash. It would no doubt work, but sooner or later, she was going to need some downtime to recover and process everything that’d just happened.
Nico needed that as well, and he was dead certain that during his downtime he would be kicking his own ass six ways to Sunday. He should have anticipated an attack from the Guardian Angel or whoever the hell had shot at them. He should have taken more precautions like having Callie and him wear Kevlar and parking closer to the house. Or better yet, figuring out a way to keep Callie out of this. But short of putting her under lock and key, he had no idea how to make that happen.
Still, he had to try.
And if he needed a reminder why, all he had to do was look at that butterfly bandage on her forehead. It was covering a cut she’d gotten when a bit of the concrete had sliced into her. He knew she had another on her arm and probably countless bruises and scrapes that he couldn’t see.
“Maybe you could lay low until this asshole’s caught and neutralized,” Nico threw out there.
She turned to him, slowly, the Coke can still touching her mouth, and her eyes narrowed a fraction. Hell. She was pissed. Of course, this was what he’d expected, but he’d had to try.
“Will you lay low until this asshole is caught?” Cassie fired right back at him.
Nico sighed. He couldn’t very well say no, he couldn’t do that because this was his job to catch bad guys. That was Callie’s job, too.
She set down her Coke, and in a move that surprised him, she caught onto the bottom of her top and hiked it up a few inches. Exposing her stomach and the lower part of her bra.
Nico wasn’t sighing now. He was damn interested in what he was seeing, and he felt that slam of heat and need.
Until he saw the scar.
It was just below her right ribcage. A six-inch incision that was bright pink in color.
“Last year, my partner and I were ambushed,” she snapped as if she’d declared war on the words themselves. “We were pinned down by a tanked-up sonofabitch who’d just murdered his girlfriend to prove to her how much he loved her. I survived, and after surgery, two weeks in the hospital and some recovery, I pinned on my badge and jumped right back into a murder investigation.”
Shit . He hadn’t known about that, and it cut him to the bone.
“I’m sorry,” he managed because he didn’t know what else to say.
Maybe it was his stunned expression, or the sickening dread in his voice, but his reaction seemed to snap Callie out of her mini-tirade and back to the present.
The present where she had her top hiked up.
Color rose on her cheeks, and she jerked the top back down. Nico hated she’d been through that kind of hell but hated even more that she was embarrassed. That had him yanking up his own t-shirt.
His scar wasn’t nearly as wide as hers, but it was in the same general idea. “A knife fight with a drug dealer,” he explained. “And while it probably doesn’t look it, it was a fight I won.”
Callie took in the scar, her gaze sliding up and over to his abs. Then, sliding up even more until their gazes collided.
Oh, the heat came again. Going up a whole bunch of degrees. Too much heat. And Nico wanted nothing more than to haul her into his arms and kiss her until they were both mindless and breathless.
That didn’t happen.
The doorknob jiggled, and a split-second later, it opened. Nico barely got his shirt pulled down just as Owen walked in. But Owen must have caught a glimpse of the garment maneuvering because he hesitated in the doorway and gave them both a look, as if he were checking to see if he’d interrupted anything. He had, but Nico figured Callie would consider it a good interruption.
“Did you find the shooter?” Callie asked after clearing her throat.
She got up, moving the chair away from the desk, no doubt to make room for Owen. Nico did the same.
Owen shook his head. “No, but there’s an APB on the vehicle, and Austin PD is trying to locate Tucker Langston.” He put some papers on the desk. “Yesterday, Tucker reported his truck as stolen. He made the report, left the station and no one, including his parents or boss, has heard from him since.”
Hell. That didn’t sound good. “The shooter could have stolen his truck and then killed him.”
“Possibly, but something popped in Tucker’s background. Owen tipped his head to those papers. “He’s friends with your witness, Seth Mitchell.”
Nico mentally cursed again. He’d dug into Seth’s background, trying to see if the man was close enough to anyone who might turn Guardian Angel for him. But Nico hadn’t linked Tucker to Seth.
“Apparently, someone deleted all social media posts of Tucker and Seth together,” Owen continued. “I’m guessing Tucker did that since he’s the one with hacking experience.”
So, that explained why Nico hadn’t found anything. However, since Owen’s techs had that told Nico he should have dug a whole lot deeper.
“So, Tucker’s the Guardian Angel?” Callie asked.
Owen shrugged. “That’d be my guess. Of course, that doesn’t explain the bald guy with the assault rifle.”
No, it didn’t, but Nico had a theory. “Maybe Tucker hired him to take me out, and he let the hitman use his truck. He could have reported it stolen so the attack wouldn’t come back on him.”
But there was a problem with that. One that Callie voiced.
“It would have come back on him since the truck was registered to him,” she spelled out. “If Tucker did hire the bald thug, then it would have been smarter to put him in a vehicle that had no connection to him.”
Nico had to agree. Still, criminals made mistakes. He just didn’t know if Tucker was the mistake maker, the Guardian Angel. Or if the bald guy had stolen Tucker’s truck to set him up.
“Is there anything in Tucker’s background to indicate he could orchestrate Morrelli’s murder and the attack on Callie and me?” Nico asked, scanning through the report.
“He’s had some firearms training, and again judging from those old deleted social media posts, a fierce loyalty to his friend, Seth.” Owen stopped when his phone rang. “It’s one of my guys working on the tech stuff,” he commented, taking the call.
Not on speaker though so Nico had no idea what the caller was saying. However, judging from the way Owen’s forehead bunched up, he did not like what he was hearing.
“All right,” Owen finally said. “I’ll get back to you after I’ve got more info.”
He ended the call and slipped his phone back into the pocket of his dark cargo pants. “The tech has managed to cobble together some images of the blue Ford truck from the security cams at the hospital, bank, and pharmacy. He’s created a timeline, coordinating it with the one he got from the cam at your estate.”
That got Nico’s attention. “This asshole drove around town before he tried to kill us? Was he looking for us?”
“Maybe.” But Owen didn’t sound at all convinced of that. “In one of the images, the bald guy gets a phone call. The feed shows him putting his phone to ear. Then, he drives out of town, heading toward your family’s estate.”
“Dante alerted him,” Nico snapped.
“Again, I’ll go with a maybe,” Owen said. “We’ll check Dante’s phone records, but if he’s behind this, he probably used a burner.”
“Why only a maybe?” Callie asked.
Owen pulled in a long breath. “Because according to the timeline, Dante left the estate fifteen minutes before the gunman got the call and drove out of town. You’d think if Dante was behind this, he would have called him sooner.”
Yes, you’d think. But maybe Dante had wanted to put some distance between the estate and himself before the attack started.
“Did anyone else know you’d be leaving the estate when you did?” Owen came out and asked.
“My father,” Nico readily answered. “And his staff, of course, but they’re heavily vetted.” He stopped. “My handler knew,” he had to add. “Yancy Dylan. But he’s obviously been heavily vetted, too.”
Owen nodded as if giving that some thought. “Going back to the timeline, I estimate the hitman was only parked outside your family estate for less than five minutes. That’s a tight timeframe. When did you get the call from your handler?”
Nico took out his phone. “Nine twenty-two this morning. We talked for three and a half minutes.”
Owen nodded again. “According to the camera feed, the gunman got the phone call at nine twenty-six.”
Everything inside Nico went still. Everything but his mind, that is. It was whirling with possibilities. Bad ones.
“Do you trust your handler?” The question hadn’t come from Owen but rather from Callie.
Nico wanted to belt out a resounding yes. But he couldn’t. “Yancy’s only been my handler for this latest assignment so I don’t know him that well. Still, I should trust him. I mean, that’s what the undercover arrangement’s all about.”
But that didn’t mean someone hadn’t gotten to Yancy. Even someone heavily vetted and trustworthy could be bent or broken if the right incentive was used. For example, someone could have threatened a loved one.
Yeah, Nico needed to do some digging on Yancy.
“I want the two of you to stay together so you can watch each other’s backs to make sure this fixer doesn’t try to take out Callie,” Owen went on a moment later. “And go home. Get some rest.”
Nico certainly hadn’t forgotten about the potential threat to Callie from The Fixer, because it was the number one item on his proverbial plate. That meant taking her anywhere was a risk especially with that gunman at large. Still, they couldn’t hang around the station because the longer he was here, there would be talk that could possibly lead to his cover being blown.
Before Callie and he could follow Owen’s orders and head out, there was another knock at the door, and Owen opened it to Deputy Shaw Brodie.
“You have a visitor,” Shaw announced, and he aimed that not at Owen but at Nico. “It’s Estella Harrington.”
Nico did more cursing, and it wasn’t of the silent variety. What the hell was Estie doing here?
“I can tell her to get lost,” Shaw said as if he might be looking forward to that. Nico knew from experience the woman had that effect on people.
“No. I should see her,” Nico decided, glancing at Owen to get his take on that.
Owen nodded. “Bring her in here,” he instructed Shaw.
“Her dog, too?” Shaw pressed. “She’s got it dressed in a tux. The dog looks humiliated.”
Owen frowned and nodded again. “Yes, bring in the dog, too.”
“I need to know why she’s in Outlaw Ridge,” Nico said once Shaw had stepped away. “We need to have the techs look for her or her vehicle on any of that cobbled together security cam feed.”
“I agree.” Owen took out his phone, firing off a text, no doubt to get that process started.
It didn’t take long for Nico to hear the approaching footsteps. The heavy thuds on the floor belonged to Shaw. The pecking heel clicks were almost certainly Estie’s. A moment later, he got confirmation of that.
Estie stepped in.
And she made an entrance all right. Skin-tight black pants and top with sky-high red heels that matched the color of her lipstick. Chunky diamond earrings dangled from her ears, and Nico figured they weren’t fakes.
She had a grip on a jewel-studded leash, and at the end of that leash trotted a Doberman. In a tux costume. And, yeah, he did look humiliated.
“Nico,” Estie greeted, not with even a smidge of affection. More like cobra venom. “I won’t be thanking you for dragging me into this.”
Nico made an exaggerated glance around the office. “You came to me,” he pointed out, though he would have been paying her a visit soon. She’d saved him the trouble.
“Yes, I came to you because Dante warned me that you were going to try to have me arrested. Bullshit,” she spat out. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I won’t be pulled into it. And why do I fucking care if you’re fucking a cop.”
There were so many confusing things about that, along with the overuse of the f-word, so Nico had to take a moment to figure out where to start.
“Dante warned you?” he finally settled on. “About what?”
Estie rolled her eyes in pure drama fashion. “Dante said you and your cop lover…” Her gaze slashed to Callie. “And I’m assuming this is she.”
“You assumed correctly,” Nico jumped in before Callie could deny it. He still wanted that gossip out about them to stop The Fixer from trying to kill her.
Estie gave Callie a long look. A disapproving one, of course. Then again, that was usually her default for most people.
“Dante said you and your cop lover,” Estie repeated, “were asking about me and my associations with Abilene. I can only assume you were doing that so you could try to pin her murder on me. But I didn’t kill the bitch.”
“No, Zed Coulter did,” Nico reminded her. And he went with a bluff. “Whoever hired him has to be squirming right about now. I mean, what with Zed certain the witness will be able to pin premeditated murder on him. That’ll get him the lethal injection after some hard time on death row.” He paused for effect. “Rumor has it Zed’s going to squeal on his boss to make a plea deal and take the death penalty off the table.”
Something flashed in Estie’s eyes that were an unnatural violet color today thanks to her contacts. It was just a brief reaction. Maybe worry. Maybe something else. Before she reined it all in and shrugged.
“That’s nothing to do with me,” Estie insisted.
The words were right. Or rather right-ish anyway. But Nico thought he had seen another flash of that worry.
Hell. Was she the killer hiding behind the hitmen that she’d hired? Nico had looked and relooked at that angle, and he hadn’t found any proof.
“You called Abilene a bitch,” Callie said, her voice cutting through the silence that’d settled over the room. “Any reason why?”
Another shrug from Estie. “Because she was one. A ruthless bitch who would stab you in the back over a business deal and fuck your lover on the side so she could goad you about it.” She shifted her attention to Nico. “Well, some lovers. She didn’t go after Nico.”
Oh, she’d tried, but since Estie had been his assignment, he’d shut Abilene down. Basically though, Estie was right about the woman’s ruthlessness. Of course, that term described Estie as well. Abilene and she had been birds of a feather.
“Anyway, I’m here to tell you to back off,” Estie went on, shifting to Owen now. “Call off your deputy and her lover boy. I won’t have my name bandied around—”
“How well did you know Ted Morrelli?” Owen asked, but then he held up his hand. “Hold on,” he said, turning to Callie. “Why don’t you go ahead and Mirandize her.”
That brought on a full fledge, f-laden profanity steam from Estie. Callie pretty much ignored it and spewed out the Miranda Warning. At the end of it, she calmly tacked on, “Do you understand your rights as I’ve just stated them to you, or do you require clarification?”
If looks could kill, Estie would have murdered Callie on the spot. And that caused Nico to do some silent cursing. Callie could handle herself, but he hadn’t wanted her to get on Estie’s bad side. Then again, Callie and he were already on that bad side if Estie was indeed the killer.
“I’m not an idiot,” Estie spat out. “I understand my rights.”
“Good,” Owen commented. “And now I’ll repeat my question. How well did you know Ted Morrelli?”
Estie’s eyes narrowed, but she attempted, and failed at, another of those nonchalant shrugs. “I’m guessing that’s one of those things a cop asks when he already knows the answer. A test to see if I’ll lie. Well, no lie is necessary. I knew Morrelli. He did some work for me.”
“What kind of work?” Owen pressed.
“Private security,” she answered without hesitation.
Owen stared at her. And stared. Then, he stared some more. For someone who’d only been sheriff for a couple of months, Nico thought Owen was damn good at doling out that cop’s look.
Estie huffed. “He was hired muscle, all right,” she amended. “I paid him to look intimidating when the occasion called for it. And before you ask, he never resorted to physical violence in my presence.”
That was probably a lie, but again, Nico had no proof. However, it did make him wonder if Morrelli had planned on spilling something about his employment with Estie. Unfortunately, with Morrelli dead, he might never know.
Well, unless he could get the answer from Morrelli’s killer.
“Are we done here?” Estie snarled. “Do you have everything you need from me to back the hell off?”
“No,” Owen calmly stated. “I’m going to take you into interview and get an official statement.”
Oh, Estie didn’t care for that. A fiery look shot across her face. “I’ll see what my lawyer has to say about that.” She whipped out her phone. “Ever been sued for false arrest and police harassment?”
“No,” Owen repeated, sounding both amused and badass at the same time. “But then, we have a good team of lawyers, too, to deal with people making bogus complaints. It’s something I put in place when I became sheriff. Just one of the many resources I wanted Outlaw Ridge PD to have.”
That cooled some of the fire in Estie’s expression. No doubt because she recalled that Owen was the owner of Strike Force, and he had an entire team of the best lawyers at his disposal.
“Miss Harrington, you have means and motive in our current murder investigation,” Owen insisted. “That not only gives me grounds to compel you into interview, it makes you a person of interest. I’d be derelict in my duties if I didn’t question you.”
Estie glared at him. It wasn’t nearly effective as Owen’s had been. “Fine,” she snarled in a way that didn’t hit the fine mark at all.
“Deputy Brodie,” Owen said to Shaw who was still in the doorway, “could you please show Miss Harrington to interview room one. Give her a chance to speak with her lawyer, and then I’ll be in shortly to get that statement from her.”
Estie opened her mouth, closed it and then practically did an about-face with military precision as the Doberman and she followed Shaw out of the office and down the hall.
Owen let out a long breath. “My guess is she won’t want to say another word without her lawyer here so it could be a couple of hours before the interview starts.” He had barely finished saying that when his phone rang.
As with the other call he’d gotten, Owen didn’t put this one on speaker either. And it was a very short conversation. Only a couple of seconds.
“Get someone out there right now,” Owen insisted.
He ended the call and looked at them. Or more specifically, he looked at Callie. “Ida Worthman just called the station to report seeing the bald man in the dark blue truck.”
“Where?” Callie and Nico asked in unison.
“Parked on a trail just off the road that leads to your house,” Owen told Callie. “Judging from what Ida said, it looks as if he’s lying in wait for you.”