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“You know that for sure?”
“It’s not what I’m going to tell anyone, but I think we were targeted.”
“By whom?”
“Don’t know.”
“You want our help to figure that out?”
“I don’t want your people looking into my club and guests.”
“We can’t avoid it completely. We have to make it look like we did some police work. But that manager of yours is pretty sharp, right? I don’t need to tell her how to play it?”
“She’s good.”
JD, his head down in thought, looks up. “We’ll find the guy or guys. We’ll deal with it.”
“Well, when you do, keep it out of sight. I’m going to have my hands full with this incident. I don’t want another.”
After Trawley leaves, JD turns to me. “You think we were both targeted or were they just lousy shots?”
“No idea.”
I spend the next several minutes thinking about who could want me hurt or dead. The only person I’ve crossed with recently is Joseph Mok.
“If it weren’t for Ramos and Chang, the shooter probably would’ve gotten off more shots,” JD says. “We might be dead men.”
I agree. Part of me still can’t get over the luck that Bridget was unharmed. But if this happens again, will she be so lucky?
