Rising from his chair, he walked outside into the humid summer air. The sexy little redhead he’d been seeing for the past couple weeks waved in his direction. She was sunbathing topless. Wouldn’t take much to get her out of her bikini bottoms. He watched as she dove into the pool, started unbuttoning his flowered shirt and stripped it away, leaving him in just his swim trunks.
He liked the good life. He wasn’t about to give it up. He smiled and dove into the water.
Ethan sat in Val’s living room with Val and Detective Bruce Hoover. Two police cars still sat out front. Hannah was next door with Mrs. Oakley, helping the old woman make chocolate chip cookies.
Val’s neighbor had come over as soon as the ambulance arrived. As the EMTs worked over Val, Ethan explained to her about the shooting and the statements they would need to give the police. Mrs. Oakley volunteered to take care of Hannah, bribed her with cookies and kindness, and so far it was working.
Next to him, Ethan’s arm around her waist, Val looked pale and brave, her arm bandaged where the bullet had gouged an inch-long groove into her flesh just above the elbow. He didn’t want to think what would have happened if the shot had gone sideways, hit her in the chest or even the heart.
The EMTs said the injury wasn’t that serious but insisted she go to the hospital to be checked out. Ethan had done his best to convince her. Val had refused, though her arm probably hurt like hell.
“I’m studying to be a doctor,” she’d said. “Well, an animal doctor, but still . . . I know how to take care of a wound like this.”
Then Hoover had arrived and started asking questions, pacing back and forth between the sofa and the shattered front window. As usual, he was in a grumpy mood.
“So you think the shooting is related to the Larsen murder. You think our killer is back.”
It made sense. Though at the moment, he wasn’t sure of anything.
“The killer left a note at the Larsen murder scene threatening to take out another model. The job he did was neat and clean, in and out, and not a clue left behind. The MO here is different, but a sniper’s bullet is just as neat and clean, the shooter’s identity equally hard to track down.”
Hoover held up a chunk of lead Ethan had dug out of the leg of the sofa. “Caliber could be a .308, but until forensics gets a chance to weigh it, we won’t know for sure.”
“You’ll find a couple more embedded in the porch.”
Hoover studied the misshapen piece of lead. “.308s aren’t that uncommon. Marine snipers shoot an M-40 rifle that fires a .308.”
“That’s right.”
“Maybe it was someone from your past.” Hoover turned, the top of his fringed head gleaming as if it had been polished. “You think of that, Brodie? Could be someone you investigated or arrested, someone you pissed off real good.”
Ethan blew out a breath. His gut said this had nothing to do with the past and everything to do with the present. “It’s possible, but I don’t think so.”
“But you don’t know for sure.”
“I know one thing for sure—I need to get my little girl somewhere safe, and being with me isn’t it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ve got a call in to my cousin. He didn’t pick up. I’m waiting for him to call—” His phone started chiming. He checked the caller ID, pressed the phone to his ear. “Hey, Nick, thanks for calling. Listen, I’ve got a problem. I’m hoping you can help.”
“This a new problem or just more of the old?” Nick asked.
“Both. Allison got arrested for DUI. Hannah was with her, so now she’s with me. The thing is, when we got back to Val’s apartment, a sniper was waiting. Val got creased protecting Hannah.”
“Jesus. She okay?”
He swallowed, tried not to think of the blood. His own he could handle. Seeing hers . . . not so much. “She’s okay. Wouldn’t even let them take her to the hospital.” He wondered if his cousin could hear the pride in his voice, though she probably should have gone. “The cops are here. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I need Hannah somewhere safe.”
“Yeah. Sounds like you’re in the middle of a real cluster-fuck, cuz.” Nick was ex-military. He didn’t mince words.
“You can say that again.”
“Take it easy, okay? You look out for Val and we’ll take care of Hannah. Samantha loves kids and she especially loves your little girl. On top of that, I’ll watch out for her myself, make sure no one comes near her, yes? You don’t have to worry, okay?”
His chest felt tight. “Okay . . . all right. Thanks, Nick.”
“The cops are still there, right?”
