Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Either way, I was thankful.
I highly doubted they’d come for my mother, but in case they did decide to do something monumentally stupid, Casten and Ridley were two of the best in the business.
“They said they wanted to come down for a little ‘R&R’ when they called just after you did to tell me you were coming. Knowing it really means they’ve got women trouble and want home cooked meals that they don’t have to cook themselves, I said they could come, too.” My mother explained teasingly, turning to the two men.
I wouldn’t put it past them to do that, but not this time.
Not that my mother needed to know that.
“What’s for dinner?” I asked as I took a seat at the bar.
I was staring directly at my mother, but out of the corner of my eye I could see Casten talking to Lenore.
Lenore nodded and tilted her head in my direction, and I sighed.
“Chicken in bourbon cream sauce. Mashed potatoes and grilled asparagus,” my mother rattled off as she stuck herself into her massive fridge and came back out with a bowl of freshly trimmed chicken. “Oh, and homemade bread.”
“Sounds good,” I said, standing up. “I have to make a few calls, and I need to go stretch my legs. I’ll be back in a few.”
My mother nodded, but other than that didn’t acknowledge me as she turned to Lenore and started telling her what they had to do first.
Catching both Casten and Ridley’s eyes, I moved to the door that led to the back porch, and waited for the two men to appear at my side.
They didn’t disappoint.
“When did y’all get here?” I asked once the door closed behind them.
“About twenty minutes before you.” Ridley answered, coming up on my left while Casten came up on my right.
“Notice anything off?” I asked, keeping my eyes pinned on the ocean that was less than a hundred yards away.
“Not a thing,” Ridley said. “Your dad called when we got here, but he didn’t say anything about us being here.”
“Hmm,” I said. “He knows you, though. He knows you’re not a threat to his woman.”
Dad had my mom’s place wired.
He watched who came and went from her place, which was inevitably why I didn’t have a problem with her place not being watched since the beginning of this shit fest.
My father did it religiously. He may not be allowed to live with his wife but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to keep her safe.
But Casten and Ridley had to think something bigger was going on here for them to come down here without asking me.
“You think it’s gonna get bad, too. Don’t you?” I asked.
Casten was the one to speak, and he didn’t sound very encouraging.
“It’s not that I don’t trust your instincts,” Casten said. “But something else besides the death of your son is going on here, and we think you’re too focused on that to see the bigger picture.”
I winced.
But I couldn’t say he was wrong.
“So what’s your gut got to say?” I asked.
“My gut says that they’re gonna get this bill passed by any means possible, most likely because they have someone huge backing this. Bill fucking Gates, huge,” Ridley added. “And nothing’s sacred. Not a kid’s life. Not a cop’s life. Not anyone’s life. And they’ve proved it with your son and tried to prove it to you three days ago.”
I couldn’t argue that point.
This went beyond just my son, and I knew that.
But I couldn’t get past it.
My son was more important to me than some bill being passed.
If I wasn’t careful, they’d take me out before I could prove who did it.
“Did you get anything out of the shooter?” I asked, turning to Ridley.
“Not a damn thing. Kid was only twenty and was homeless until about two days before he tried to shoot you,” Ridley answered. “Took him into Paul who booked him for attempted murder. Found out his name is Alex Lively of Tyler, Texas. He was approached about a day before he tried to shoot you. Paid a grand to do it with a piece that the woman provided him.”
“And the woman?” I asked.
“No name. Kid’s young and never thought to even ask her. He showed me the roll of bills she gave him, though. I can see why he didn’t care what she looked like. Kid was in desperate need of some rehab. He had needle marks all over his body, indicating he’d had a problem for some time. It would’ve been easy for someone to see that he was an easy target,” Casten said.
I didn’t doubt it.
I’d been at a coffee shop, of all places, trying to keep awake with some good coffee, when I was approached from behind as I headed out to my bike that I’d parked in an alley.
I’d been working the same gun trafficking case that I’d caught a lead on four days prior, and I’d been working on little to no sleep.
I had been contemplating the merit of a few hours of sleep compared to trying to talk to the man we’d caught with a shipment of guns passing over the Louisiana/Texas border on Caddo when I’d felt a weird tingling at my back.
I turned just in time to knock the gun away from the kid that’d had it pointed at the back of my head.
Had the kid not hesitated, I would’ve never noticed as he stepped out from behind the dumpster, aimed at my head, and fired.
But he had hesitated, and I’d realized something was wrong in time to stop him from blowing a hole in the back of my head.
My eyes wandered along the beach as I finally let myself realize how close I’d come to dying.
Possibly by seconds only…and it was a humbling experience.
“Thought that house was owned by some old folks.” Casten wondered.
I followed his gaze to find a kid, all of two years old, at the most, walking straight towards the water chasing after a football that’d gone about a foot into the surf.