Page 40 of Guarding Grace (Hawk Security #2)

Terry

Grace’s kiss in front of all her employees surprised the hell out of me—not that I was complaining.

Breaking off to stop by her office and get my windbreaker, I got a chance to watch my woman’s ass as she and Peyton continued to the demo room. I joined them as soon as I was presentable.

Inside the demo room with Grace, Paul, and their customers, I had trouble staying still. Adrenaline still surged through me. Outside, I’d been wound much tighter than in any previous firefight.

Overseas, I’d been in dozens, but none with the same stakes as today. Today, I’d experienced fear that I might lose Grace if I wasn’t good enough, strong enough, accurate enough.

Today, if I’d missed, it could have cost Grace her life, and that was not happening. I clenched and unclenched my fists, doing my best to concentrate on the meeting, but the voices were a jumble as I played back the firefight in my head. I’d seen the face of the leader. That fucker was going down.

As soon as we figured out whether Russo or Marku was behind this, I was sure Lucas would organize a takedown.

Instead of aiming at the leader, I’d taken the easier shot at the guy next to him, because my hand wasn’t as steady as it should have been.

“Never mind him,” Grace said .

I looked up to see her shift her gaze to me for a second.

“He’s new and observing how this is done.”

Her words woke me from my trance. I had a job to do, and that required concentration. Get it together, Goodwin. Focus, stay in the here and now. After-action review was just what it said. It was for after the action was completed, and the day wasn’t over yet.

“If you put on your headsets,” Grace told them, “we can get started.”

I grabbed the headset from the chair next to me and put it on. I was inside a huge walk-in closet with four avatars.

“We can change the stain on the oak,” Grace said, as the wood in the virtual room shifted tones.

I gave myself a mental slap.

It was amazing to see Grace and Paul work as a team with the husband and wife customers wanting to improve their “cottage,” which from the pictures looked like what any of us would call a mansion.

Even after what she’d just been through, Grace seemed totally focused and at ease. Most civilians took an entire day or more to recover from a live shooting incident. As I sat in the corner, I swelled with pride at how accomplished she was. And Grace was mine.

I’d already texted Jordy and Lucas with the details about Elliot and his harebrained scheme to rip off the Russo family.

Most importantly, I was waiting to hear what Jordy could dig up on Elliot’s roommate, Rudi Sanchez.

Sanchez was the key to wrapping this up.

Regardless of the outcome for Elliot, getting the briefcase back would ensure Grace’s safety.

Without a knock, the door to the demo room opened. Lieutenant Wellbourne appeared.

“I tried to get him to wait,” Peyton explained from behind him.

He pointed an accusing finger at me. “You shoot up the neighborhood like you’re still overseas and then leave the scene without giving a statement? I should lock you up, Goodwin.”

I pressed a finger to my lips as I stood. “Quiet. They’re working here.” I headed to the door.

Grace whipped off her headset. “Who are you?”

“LAPD,” Wellbourne said, flashing the badge on his belt.

“Do you have a warrant, Officer?”

I smirked and stayed quiet. Wellbourne didn’t know who he was up against.

“It’s Lieutenant Wellbourne, and I don’t need a warrant in active pursuit of a suspect.” He pointed at me.

“How can it be a pursuit if he’s been sitting here quietly waiting for you? I heard him tell Duke Hawk he’d be waiting upstairs when you were ready.”

I hadn’t had to say those words to Duke, and it was super smart of Grace to think of them.

Wellbourne turned red. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Mr. Hawk failed to mention that to me.”

“It’s my customers you should be apologizing to,” Grace stated.

Wellbourne backed toward the door. “I’m very sorry to have interrupted your meeting.”

I looked at Wellbourne and cocked my head toward the door. “We can talk in her office.”

I followed him out and closed the door. “Sorry, Lieutenant, she’s my protectee. I couldn’t allow her to stay exposed on the street in case there was more shooting, and I couldn’t leave her alone and unprotected, either. That’s the job.” I ushered him to Grace’s office.

“You guys are a pain in my ass,” Wellbourne complained.

Duke was at a nearby desk, providing extra support in case those idiots decided to take another run at us. He waved discreetly, and I nodded back.

“Duke claimed battle amnesia,” Wellbourne said, “about what happened beyond the fact that the one guy you hit and two more who escaped began firing at everything in sight, and you two didn’t do anything to provoke them, which I highly doubt.

Were they unhappy clients shooting at you and Duke, or was it the girl? ”

Since he didn’t know about Elliot, I wasn’t bringing him up, but Wellbourne’s question was a good one.

Before this, they had wanted Grace alive as leverage to get to Elliot, so shooting at her didn’t make sense. If Elliot had stolen the case, how did killing him advance their cause? That didn’t make sense either.

“Tell me what’s going on,” the lieutenant prodded. “Why does that girl need Hawk-level protection in the first place? Who’s after her?”

“Her name is Grace Brennan, Pete Brennan’s sister. Pete and Lucas served together.”

I didn’t need to say more than that for him to understand why she was getting Hawk protection, and invoking Lucas’s name would shorten this discussion.

Lieutenant Wellbourne owed Lucas more than he could ever repay, which came in handy in situations like today.

Duke and I had both discharged our weapons, but neither of us would be getting more than an interview.

Wellbourne nodded. “I knew Pete—good guy.”

“He was,” I agreed, keeping it in the past tense. “Did you ID the guy on the street yet?” I asked .

“We’ll get to that. Who shot him?”

“Who does he work for? Did you figure that out?”

He didn’t give in. “How did this start?”

Keeping the Russo and Marku names out of this would make our lives easier.

“Well, Duke…” I pointed to the demo room door.

“…Grace and I drove into the parking lot, and the guys across the street started shooting as soon as we exited the vehicle. Duke and I returned fire. That’s the whole story.

There were three shooters in total. I hit that guy down on the street and winged another who drove off with the third.

The escape vehicle was a black Suburban. It left southbound.”

“Plate?”

“Too far for me to see, and we were busy ducking a lot of lead.” I tried again. “Who’s the guy and who does he work for?”

With a sigh, he gave in. “He’s part of a contract hit team in from Houston.”

I nodded as if I expected that answer when I really expected a Russo or Marku connection. “How did you figure out the Houston angle so quickly?”

“We got lucky with a traffic cam down the street. The black SUV was a rental picked up at the airport this morning, and the fake ID used to rent it was in the pocket of the guy you laid out on the street. He was traveling with two men.”

“That tracks. They emptied several clips at us.”

“The crime scene guys picked up thirty-seven casings from that side of the street so far. It’s like it was fucking Beirut down there. You guys can’t go shooting up the city like this.”

“Trust me, it’s different in Beirut. There, the tangos also carry RPGs. And we didn’t start this. We only returned fire.”

“I’m going to need your gun. How many clips did you expend?”

I pulled out my weapon, released the clip, cleared the chamber, and set the lot down on the desk for him. “I fired three shots total.”

“You’re kidding. Two hits out of three shots at that distance with a pistol?”

“Snipers don’t kid,” I deadpanned. “We practice.”

He shook his head, then nodded toward the demo room. “So what’s she mixed up in?”

“She is not ‘mixed up’…” I added air quotes. “…in anything. She felt threatened, and we are providing protection.”

“It’s pretty heavy-duty to get a get contract hit team sent after her. Who has threatened her and how?”

“What makes you assume she was the target? ”

“Are you saying you guys were the target?”

“You know better than to ask that a second time. I’d be interested to hear what that guy on the street has to say.”

“We both would, but he’s lawyered up. His fingerprints ID him as Jerold Needling, formerly employed by Blackwater. Like I said, the FBI field office in Houston suspects he’s part of a contract kill squad of ex-mercenaries, but they haven’t been able to nail down enough evidence yet.”

“Maybe now you have it.”

After needling me a few more times for more information I couldn’t tell him, he gave up.

I stayed in the office, watching him through the glass as he left. Peyton wandered back to her desk.

Wellbourne was right about one thing. Involving out-of-town hitters moved this up several notches on the danger scale. Elliot had gotten himself into a pretty deep pile of shit.

Before rejoining Grace, I called Lucas to relay Wellbourne’s information.

Grace

I hit the power button on the VR system after we all took off our headsets. “What do you think?”

Mr. Lim nodded at his wife.

“We love it,” she said. “I can’t wait to get started on the remodel.” They had chosen the design that only needed one wall moved in their house instead of two.

“This is quite the setup you have,” Mr. Lim said, pointing at my demo equipment. “Very innovative.”

“Thank you.”

“I’d like to have lunch next week to discuss investing in your company.”

Like a deer in headlights, I was frozen by his suggestion.

“She’s busy,” Terry spoke up. “She can’t make it.”

I nodded in agreement, not knowing how to handle this development. More money in the account would be great, but taking on an investor might mean giving up some control of my baby.