I took a small sip of water and surveyed the scene. The hunt Grayson had assigned me to was supposed to be cut and dry. My target, Charles Pennick, was known to be a runner, not a fighter.I’d chased him across the border before he tried losing me in Chicago, hopping on a train to St. Louis. That was a mistake.
“Carrie and I are old friends.” Gwen stuck out her hand. “Gwen Connors. Nice to meet you.”
My eyes slid back over to my friend just in time to see her last name register in his mind. He blinked himself out of his stupor. “Oh shit, right. Connors. You’retheGwen,” he said, stumbling over his words.
She laughed. “Am I famous at Red Snake Investigations?”
“Pretty sure your entire crew here in STL gives Grayson a fucking migraine every time you guys are mentioned,” Jake deadpanned. “So, yeah, you’re known.”
Gwen smiled at him. “Yeah, well, he hates this city.”
“He doesn’t hate this city,” I corrected. “He hates the connections in this city. You to your husband, him to the mafia, the mafia to Oasis, and all of that is tied up with the FBI.” I sighed, taking another sip, grateful the pain medication she’d given me was already working. “And what I mean by FBI is Agent James Garner,” I finished.
She hummed, knowing the story between those two.
As Jake and Gwen fell into a conversation, I rolled my neck. Pain shot up the right side, and I winced.
Fuck, I was going to be sore for a few days.
“Do you two want to come by Sullie’s when all this,” Gwen gestured to the chaos around us, “is over? He made ribs this afternoon. I’m sure everyone would love to see you.”
I stood and put my hand on her shoulder, giving her a soft smile. “I have to talk to the police, and then we have to get on the road. Thanks, though.”
“Eager to get back home?” Jake quipped, chuckling.
Gwen’s ocean eyes bounced back and forth between us. “What’s back home?”
Jake opened his mouth, but I smacked him on the shoulder, clamping my hand around it. “Paperwork and my bed,” I answered as he cussed at me under his breath. “Thanks for tending to me.”
She rolled her eyes and shut the back of the ambulance, her wedding ring sparkling in the sea of blue and red. “Try not to jump out of any more buildings, yeah?”
“No promises,” I called back, squeezing Jake.
“Fuck, asshole, let go,” he growled, shoving me off.
I leveled him with a look. “Cut the shit, Murphy.”
His lips twitched. “What? I can’t tell a stranger about why you want to get home?”
“Gwen fucking Connors isn’t a stranger, and the second she—” I cut myself off, meeting the eyes of my target as he was pushed beside us by two officers.
His hands were cuffed behind his back, his hair matted with blood, dirt covering his sweaty skin. He bared his teeth at me. “This isn’t over,” Pennick pushed out, spitting blood at my shoes.
My jaw tightened, and it took everything in me not to lunge, to take his neck in my hands and break it.
“Shut up,” the officer on the right clipped before tipping his head to me.
I gave him a chin lift and remained silent until they shoved that bastard into the back of a squad car.
“He’s taller than I imagined,” Jake noted, folding his arms over his chest.
“You have the fucker’s specs. You knew he was six feet.”
“Yeah, but his face…he looks short in all the photos we got of him during recon.”
I turned to him, my brow furrowed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“How much time do you have?” he shot back coolly.
