“Seen anything interesting?”
He gave a slow smile. “Can’t say that I have.” Then he asked, “Did you see the guy? Whoever was shooting at us, I mean.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“The guy in Central Park. Uh, the one who nearly blew our heads off?”
“Again,” I said softly, “I’m not sure what you mean.”
He thought for a moment and then let out a chuckle. “You’re a slippery fish, Messina. That’s what Hanson used to say.”
I raised my glass and said, “To Hanson.”
“To Hanson,” he agreed, and drained his glass. “So that’s it?” he said after, wiping his mouth. “You’re not even going to tell me what you were doing out there, acting like youwantedsomeone to come at you?” He studied me.
I said nothing.
“There are rumors about you, Messina,” he continued. “They make me wonder. Were you there to hook up? Or were you there for some other reason?”
Hanson had always gone for the jibe as a first resort. Like he was playing Bad Cop without a scene partner to step in as Good Cop. “Special Agent Flynn, unless I’m very much mistaken, I have a constitutional right not to answer any of your questions.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay. But from where I’m sitting, maybe you’d benefit from a little Federal help, if you know what I’m saying. Someonedidtry to kill you, after all.”
“Did they?” I asked, and then added, “Did someone try to kill me?” I put a very slight emphasis on that last little word, but Flynn picked up my meaning right away.
His mouth dropped open to argue, and then he paused. “You—you think someone might have been afterme?”
I’d told Luca D’Amato that I’d stay away from the Feds without prior approval. Yet here I was with one sitting here in my damn living room, drinking my bourbon, chatting over a case in which we both had a vested interest.
I had not seen the shooter. Nothing but a shadow, anyway, and I still couldn’t tell who the intended target had been. I would be the obvious target, but it might not even have been the same killer who’d taken out all the other Family members. God knew I had enemies enough, and the Park at night could be dangerous. Or it could even have been a poor attempt at a mugging.
On the other hand, the last confirmed kill in the Park had been Jim Hanson, and this Baxter Flynn had been his partner. If the killer had developed a taste for law enforcement blood, or thought Flynn knew something that Hanson had already been murdered over…
But I wouldn’t talk to a Fed. Not even one as unconsciously sexy as this one slumped on my lounge, glowering at me. After all, this whole thing might have been a setup from the start. A couple of agents performing a shadow play in the dead of night.
I didn’t really think so. Whoever had been shooting at us intended to kill, and I could just about smell Flynn’s fear when we were crouched there together. It had been a true fight-or-flight response. Long years of experience had trained my instincts to control that animal fear. Instead, I’d reverted to what I knew best—protection. I’d pushed his head down, covered the vital parts of his body with mine.
I’d done it without even thinking about it, the same way I’d always done for Tino Morelli, and Luca D’Amato after him.
I pulled myself back to the present. I wouldn’t talk to a Fed, but maybe he had information for me, like Hanson sometimes had. Then again, if the kidhadfooled me, if he was wearing a wire—
I stood. He watched me, vigilance sparking in his eyes. “Get up,” I told him, and he obeyed. “Take off your clothes.”
He stared at me. “What?”
“Take off your clothes,” I repeated slowly.
“Uh, how aboutno?” He reached for the gun again, but I was too fast for him, whisking it away from under his fingers.
Our eyes locked again. Without looking at the weapon in my hands, I expelled the magazine and threw it behind me. I put the empty gun back on the table.
“I won’t ask again,” I said. “Take off your clothes or leave now.”
“But,” he began, and licked his dry lips. “But…why?”
“Maybe those rumors are true,” I said. “Maybe I was in Central Park to pick up some fun for the night and bring him back to my place. Is that what I’ve done, Baxter Flynn?”
“You want to see if I’m wearing a wire.”
