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Anna started to step in to play referee—several other models had complained about Marcella’s interference in their photo shoots—but her phone vibrated. She glanced at the screen and saw her mother’s number. “Why don’t we break for lunch?”
Marcella frowned. “But I just got here. You go along now. Take your call.”
But Gage was quick to jump on the excuse, grabbing his shirt and stepping away from Marcella. “Lunch sounds great. See you in an hour.”
* * *
Gage met up with Scotty and Spencer in a bar two blocks down the street. He’d hoped his teammates would show. He glanced at the guys, ordered a beer and joined them in a booth at the back.
Scotty turned from admiring the waitress’s figure and lifted his beer when Gage slid in beside him. “To Nick. He shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old.”
The clicked mugs. They’d been offering the same toast every day since Nick had died—and they’d keep doing it until they finally figured out what had happened.
Gage glanced at his watch. “Where the hell is Kyle? Anyone hear from him yet?” Gage was starting to worry about him.
Nick hadn’t just been a brother in arms to Kyle—he’d been Kyle’s actual brother. It was always hard to lose someone, but Gage couldn’t imagine what it must be like to lose your family. Kyle and Nick had been close, with Kyle looking up to his big brother, and ever since they’d gotten home, Kyle didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to talk about anything. He was spending too much time on his own.
Spencer glanced around the bar, and Gage did the same. It was just about automatic—you went into a place, you scanned the area for possible threats and exits. This one was a no-brainer. Front door and back. No apparent threats at the moment. The place was practically deserted. A barman rubbed idly at a spot on the bar and watched the baseball game on the TV over his shoulder. The waitress was hanging out with two college-age kids at the front. They were the only other customers.
Spencer turned to Gage, his mouth pulled down. “His phone’s off—going straight to voicemail.”
“I went by his apartment. Not there,” Scotty said. He pulled his eyes from the waitress with the tight ass.
Shaking his head, Gage stared into his beer. “He blames himself.”
Spencer straightened. “He should. He was in charge. It was his job to make sure everything went smoothly.”
Scotty held up a hand. “Not helping, Spence. You know as well as I do that sometimes things just fall apart. And they fordamnsure fall apart when we get set up. None of us here thinks that what happened to Nick was an accident, right? A sniper just happened to be perfectly positioned and only bothered to fire atoneof us?”
“Nick and no one else—it was a damn hit,” Gage muttered.
Spencer slumped and cradled his beer. “What’d you find out about that publishing company? Did anyone seem to know anything about Nick or Natalie?”
“I dropped Nick’s name into conversation, but I didn’t get any response,” Gage said. “I’m going back after lunch, and I’ll try to find a way to bring Natalie up. This place do burgers?”
“What do you think?” Spencer asked.
“Seems a safe bet,” Gage said. “I’m going to need to get further in at Coran Williams. So far I’ve been doing more talking than they have.”
Scotty gave a laugh. “You?”
Gage nodded. He sipped his beer. He told them about the shoot, the people, keeping it to bare facts. “What about you two?”
Scotty shook his head. “Word from Commander Brighton is that the team’s under investigation. They think the shooting stinks, too, but that crap is starting to stick to us.”
Gage stiffened. “Investigation? So their theory is that one of us set Nick up?”
Spencer put a hand on Gage’s shoulder. “Worse: they think we killed him ourselves. We’re dirty somehow, Nick was in on it but was going to bail, and we snuffed him instead. Looking at it from the outside, I might think the same. Wouldn’t be first time someone got bought.”
Scotty nodded. “Brighton’s got a soft spot for us.”
“Soft in the head,” Gage muttered.
Spencer frowned, but Scotty shook his head. “Look, the brass is looking for someone to hang this on. They don’t want answers, they just want to close the book. If we’re going to get justice for Nick, we’ll need to find it ourselves. Not to mention, getting to the truth is the best way to protect ourselves from taking the rap for it.”
“Yeah, tell us something we don’t know,” Gage said.But why? Why, why, why?His head hurt. Squaring his shoulders, he sat up and put his hands on the table. “How much time do you think we have?”
Scotty shrugged. “Not much. Officially, we’re on leave. Brighton’s running interference for us for now—you know he’s good at making the paperwork thick as a brick. Unofficially, he doesn’t want any of us—especially Kyle—to be anywhere we can be found.”
