Page 66 of Killer Notes

“Obviously,” John adds. “But no proof.”

“What I don’t get is why go after Laney?” I ask, rounding another tent and spotting the entirety of Warrior Black standing by the food tent talking to some men. One in particular is standing a little too close to Danny, and I don’t fucking like it.

John guffaws, which catches my attention. I turn and watch my friend’s face light up like a rocket flare. “That’s…” he swallows hard.

“Who?” I insist.

“Social Sinners,” he says with a gulp. “They are one of my favorite bands.”

I have never seen John like this. He’s usually resigned, aloof where his emotions are concerned, but lately the man’s full of surprises. I know he likes heavy metal music, but I now realize it’s more thanlikefrom the way he’s acting.

“Are you okay?” I ask, as we approach the group.

John quickly swipes at his mouth before clearing his throat. “Yeah.” He then strides to Dean who’s talking to a guy in a black security shirt.

I head to the group and eye the person who’s close to my guy. “Danny,” I clip, grabbing everyone’s attention. I move to Danny’s side, though I don’t reach for him. Instead, I eye the guy in front of me.

“It’s fucking awesome meeting you all,” the guy says to the band. “We hear nothing but kick ass things about your band and your music.” A chorus ofyepandfuck yeacomes from the other guys around him. “Can’t wait to listen to you jam.” He gives us a tiny salute, chuckling, and then grabs the hand of the guy next to him before he and the rest of his group stroll off.

“Who’s that guy?” I ask Danny, noting the awed expression on his face. He’s so wide eyed that I begin to worry. “Babe?”

“You don’t know who that was?” Connor queries with equal amounts of shock and humor on his face.

“Dude, that’s Social Sinners. One of the headliners for this festival,” Callum throws in with a wide grin.

“And that guy was Joey Hayes, their lead singer. The others were his bandmates, Stoli, Mickey, and Diamond, and some of their significant others,” Raef explains, snickering. “So Danny was telling the truth. You really don’t listen to metal.”

I drop my eyes to Danny, who’s blushing profusely. Yeah, I figured he was going to tell the guys about my music choices.

“There’s nothing wrong with country,” I defend.

“Sure, there isn’t.” Connor busts out laughing. He turns away, his shoulders bouncing around like an idiot.

“Get it out,” I say to the group.

“If you’re done, Tobias. I need a word,” Dean states with a frown.

Danny leans in and whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good, babe.” I give him a squeeze and then stride to Dean. “How’s Laney?” I ask him.

“She’s fine. Just some scrapes and a bump on her head. Festival security took her to the medical tent to patch her back up. But that’s not why I called you over here. Hale found some stuff out.”

John moves in closer and so does the rest of the team.

“What is it?” I finally ask.

“That gunshot you two thought, wasn’t. Hale found footage from a security surveillance camera five buildings down and it was a backfire from a shit box Chevy Corolla, sitting across the street from the store.”

“What about the bullet I found in the wall?” John asks.

“That bullet could have been fired at any other time. It was just luck you discovered it,” Dean explains. “There’s more.”

His eyes go flinty and his jawline tenses. So I brace, knowing it’s going to be bad news.

“The handwriting analysis came back.”

“And?” I urge, feeling unsettled that Danny’s not by my side. I trust the men I work with, but they won’t protect him like I would.