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“This is Harper answering Steele’s phone. Hang on, I’ll put you on speaker.”
“It’s Rhy. We’re digging into the possible connection between Otterson and Tommy Grotto and the two Hispanic men. I put a call in to the two ATF agents watching over Feldman too.”
“You think Feldman knows Neil Otterson?” He wished he’d asked the perp when they’d had the opportunity.
“It’s worth a shot. But the better news is that Neil Otterson has been taken into custody. He’s not talking,” Rhy said quickly. “But we have him off the street.”
“That’s the best news of the day,” Steele agreed.
“I’m hoping we can get Otterson to open up now that he has more charges pending against him,” Rhy said, his tone ringing with satisfaction. “And once Trent Gibson wakes up, he should be able to let us know if Otterson was the one who assaulted him.”
“He’s doing okay?” Harper asked.
“He’s being evaluated in the emergency department but has regained consciousness,” Rhy answered.
“Praise the Lord,” Harper whispered.
“Yes,” Rhy agreed.
Steele spoke up. “We’re heading to the safe house. Did Raelyn leave yet?”
“About five minutes ago.” The sound of a phone ringing could be heard in the background. “I have to go. Michaels is on the other line.”
“Later, then.” He glanced at Harper who pushed the end call button. “You did good work, Harper.”
“I hope so.” She shook her head. “I honestly never believed Neil Otterson was involved.”
“We didn’t either.” They drove in silence for a long fifteen minutes. The traffic wasn’t too bad, which helped. When he reached the safe house, he drove past without stopping. There were no cars parked anywhere nearby, and the place appeared empty. After circling the block, he pulled into the driveway and shut down the engine. “Let’s get you inside.”
“How do we access the place?” She pushed open her door.
“There’s a push button lock on the front door.” He quickly escorted her up the sidewalk. It had been recently shoveled, which was nice. He entered the four-digit number provided by Joe, then pushed the door open.
The inside was nice, nothing fancy, but clean and serviceable. He shut the door behind him, then removed his jacket from Harper, tossing it aside.
“This is nice,” she said, gazing around. “I was expecting something smaller and more dungeonlike.”
The sound of a footstep on the floor made him turn toward the hallway. He froze when Steve Banner emerged, holding a gun leveled at his chest. “Don’t move. One step and I’ll shoot. At this point, I have nothing to lose.”
Steele didn’t move a muscle, but his mind raced. Steve Banner had never been a suspect. But it was clear he’d been wrong about the ATF agent all along.
And he feared Harper would pay the ultimate price for his mistake.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
This was it. They were going to die here today. Harper was stunned to see Steve Banner holding a gun on them. If either of the ATF agents were involved, she’d have felt certain the culprit would have been Bryon Perkins. Although for all she knew, he was here too.
“Toss down your weapon,” Banner ordered. “Slowly. One false move and I’ll shoot the baby.”
Banner shifted, moving the barrel of the gun toward her abdomen. Her breath caught in her throat, and it was all she could do not to curl into a ball and scream.
“Okay. I hear you. No one needs to get shot today.” Steele slowly pulled his gun from his holster and bent to drop it on the floor.
“Kick it to me.” Banner continued to point his gun at her belly.
Steele kicked it with enough force that the gun slid past him. Banner narrowed his gaze but let it go.
“Now your backup weapon.” Banner sneered. “Ankle holster, right?”
