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Looking more than a little relieved to be released, the man showed a surprising amount of energy as he scooted out of the office. The door had barely clicked shut when Hawke said, “Why would Jazz be running her own investigation? I thought she wanted some time off.”
“I have no idea,” Xavier said. His self-imposed time limit to contact her wasn’t up yet, but that didn’t matter now. “But I’m going to find out.” Grabbing his phone, he punched in Jazz’s number. He wasn’t surprised that it went straight to voice mail.
Not bothering to leave a message, he ended the call and immediately called Serena.
“Hey,” Serena said. “You guys get something?”
“Maybe. Not sure. Can you do me a favor and find out where Jazz is?”
The chip embedded inside each team member ensured that their location could be identified in seconds.
“Sure. Hold just a sec. Okay…hmm.” The silence after that was deafening.
Xavier could sense immediately something was very wrong. “Serena?”
“Let me call you back.” In a very un-Serena-like way, she ended the call.
“What’s going on?” Hawke asked.
Xavier shook his head as an ominous feeling hit him. “No idea, but it’s something. Let’s get out of here and find Jazz.”
Hawke gave him a curious look. “Have you talked to her since our last meeting?”
“No. I was giving her some space.” Which he was now thoroughly regretting.
Xavier followed Hawke out the door, his mind whirling. When she’d said she wanted time off, he had known in his gut that rest and relaxation weren’t part of her agenda. He had assumed she’d head back to her apartment in Bozeman. But instead, she was working this case by herself. That made no sense whatsoever.
The sun was a round ball of fire in the sky, and Xavier squinted as he put on his sunglasses. They’d parked at the end of the alley, behind the restaurant. The place had already reopened, and according to several of the employees, they were busier than ever. Seemed Bass’s murder had caused a sensation, and everyone wanted to get a glimpse of where the murder had taken place. No doubt about it, people were odd.
He took a step and spotted a penny on the pavement in front of him. A wave of emotions swept through him at the sight. Whenever he saw a penny, his mind always went to his mother.
Sofia Quinn had never left a penny unclaimed. When he was a kid, he’d thought it was because they were so poor and needed every penny to survive. He’d asked her about it one day, and she had quickly disavowed him of that belief. She had told him that every time you see a penny, it meant that God was looking out for you, that He was reminding you to trust Him. She’d shown him the inscription: In God We Trust.
Xavier’s faith had taken some hard hits over the years. After seeing war in all its bloody horror—the injustice and sheer depravity of what humans could do to one another—he’d been left with the shakiest of beliefs.
Losing his mother suddenly while he was on his second deployment had brought him to his knees, literally. The only person who’d loved him unconditionally had died alone, without the son who adored her at her side. She hadn’t told him she was sick. The last time he’d seen her, he’d noticed she’d lost weight and had mentioned it to her. She had shushed him and told him she’d finally found a diet that worked. He had let her change the subject and cursed himself later when he’d realized that the diet she’d praised hadn’t existed. It had been the cancer inside her, destroying her.
She had sacrificed so much for him. Working two jobs, as a waitress and a maid, to keep them going. She had also put up with all his stupid-assed teenage crap. Getting in with the wrong crowd in his early teens, he could have easily stayed on the dark side. But when he’d seen the tears rolling down her face because of his stupidity, he had finally cleaned up his act. He’d never felt more like shit than at that moment, and he’d vowed to never cause her another moment of sorrow. Even now, years after her death, he still strove every day to make her proud.
And not once had he passed by a penny and not picked it up. The reminder that he was always being watched over eased him. That thought in his mind, he bent down for the coin.
A loud ping sounded. The brick wall a few feet away exploded.
“Get down!” Xavier shouted. Hitting the ground, he rolled beneath the vehicle in front of him. Another ping sounded. Twisting his head, he searched for Hawke and felt his heart stutter. Hawke lay only half a yard away, blood pouring from a neck wound and already forming a dark pool around his head. Their eyes met.
Xavier heard his friend whisper, “Livvy.”
He then watched his eyes dull as they closed.
Scrambling toward him, Xavier shouted, “No!” just as another shot was fired.
CHAPTER TWELVE
UW Medical Center
Seattle
Xavier sat with his head bowed, staring at his hands that were stained with his friend’s blood. When he’d dragged Hawke beneath the car with him, he had believed his friend was already gone, but he had refused to let him lie there in the open. Thankfully, Hawke wasn’t dead, but he’d been losing blood at a horrific rate. While staunching the blood flow, he’d managed a call to Serena. OZ’s contacts were worldwide and vast. Never had Xavier been more grateful for them. Though it seemed like it took a lifetime, it had been only a couple of minutes before help had arrived.