Page 44 of Skin Game
“Pritchard?”
“Yep,” Gabe said, his tone smug.
“So what’s the next step going to be?”
“As far as I can tell, there’s no other mention of the theft. So next up is searching for Carla Pritchard. And, duh, I need to see if I can get a hold of Holly Pritchard’s birth certificate. Theissue, of course, is that I’m still not sure which year she was born in.”
“Be careful, Gabriel. You seem to have ruffled a lot of feathers this week, and it’s only Thursday morning. Personally, I like you best in one piece.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“Why do I feel like you’re saying that just to appease me?”
Gabe sighed and stared at the ceiling. “Okay, I willtryto be careful, but obviously, I can’t make any guarantees.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Casey said quietly.
“It’s the best I can do, Ranger Man.”
Casey paused for so long that Gabe checked his cell phone’s screen to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. “At least send a text if you decide to head into Westfort today or talk to anyone in person.”
“I can do that.”
“You mean a lot to me, Gabriel. And I’d like you to stay alive and in one piece.”
“Yeah—”
There was a knock at the door, followed by a voice saying, “It’s Deputy Eagan.”
“Look, I gotta go, Eagan’s is here already.”
“Take care and talk soon. And don’t forget to give Elton a call.”
Making a mental note to talk to Elton, Gabe closed the lid to his laptop and set it on the coffee table, then walked over to the front door to let Bree Eagan inside, narrowly missing Keith as she ran to the bedroom once again.
“Good morning,” the deputy said, looking around.
“I suppose it is, seeing as I don’t have a bullet in me. Only the window was damaged.”
Gabe saw Eagan’s eyes widen when she spotted Alfred lurking in his corner. “Are you collecting antiques now?”
“Hah, not likely. That is something I recently acquired frommy mother. I want to chop it up into firewood, but I don’t own an axe or a saw and don’t have a fireplace. Would you like something to drink? I can make you a coffee.”
“No, but thank you for the offer. Casey called and reported an incident last night, a shooting. Will you run through what happened with me?”
Gabe tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans to keep from waving them around like an air traffic controller.
“I think it was about ten p.m. Casey and I were talking and eating pizza, and Bowie started acting like he’d heard something outside. Next thing I knew, Casey was telling me to get down and the window exploded.”
“Did you find the bullet?”
Gabe frowned. “To be honest, I didn’t look for it. I was just glad none of us were hurt. We heard the shooter running off, and I was pissed as hell, so I ran after him but, obviously, whoever it was got away.”
“Did you see a car?”
“No. And we didn’t hear one either. If the shooter used one, they parked far enough away so we wouldn’t hear an engine. Which means, at least in my mind, that they know the area.”
Eagan nodded as she scribbled in her small spiral notepad. “I’d have to agree. Are you filing for damages?”