He fell back against the asphalt, writhing and moaning. He clutched at his wounds and gasped for breath.
With round eyes, the other thug took off running across the parking lot. He sprinted away into the night.
I looked myself over, feeling for warm blood.
My heart thumped, and adrenaline coursed through my veins. I looked at Buddy. "You okay, boy?"
I checked him out and felt his fur. He trembled with fear, but was unharmed. Anger tensed my jaw. Who shoots at a man walking a dog?
Savages.
By this time, the commotion had drawn patrons out of the bar for a closer look. I shouted at them to stay back, then called dispatch.
Teagan hurried out of the bar and rushed toward me with worried eyes. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." I handed her Buddy's leash, then approached the assailant.
By the time I got to him, he was long gone. I kicked his revolver away, then knelt down and felt for a pulse just to be sure. I pulled off his balaclava.
It was Mason.
I guess my knock and talk had spooked him, or his employer.
Distant sirens drew near.
Soon, first responders swarmed the area. Deputies kept the crowd at bay, and Dietrich snapped photos.
Paris and her news crew arrived shortly thereafter.
Daniels showed up with a tight look on his face. "What did you do to piss this asshole off?"
"I think this is one of the guys who killed Ethan Rexrode.”
"Well, maybe you’re on the right track. Keep up the pressure. Try not to get killed in the process.”
"I'll do my best.”
Daniels sighed. "You know the drill. Surrender your weapon—you’re on leave pending an investigation. See the headshrinker.”
Brenda and her team bagged the remains, and the crowd dispersed. Paris and her crew got their money shot, and I gave her a brief interview. Afterward, I headed down to the station to fill out reports and turn in my duty weapon.
It was late by the time I got back to the boat. The traffic had died down, and the parking lot at Diver Down was mostly empty, except for residents of the marina.
Jack’s stateroom was empty.
After the ambush, I was a little worried about him. I rang his phone, but the call went to voicemail. I left a message and told him about the attack. "You need to watch your back, buddy. Let me know you're all right."
I didn’t hear back right away, so I texted the guys in the band.
Crash replied:[Nope. Haven’t seen him.]
That sense of unease swelled.
32
Icalled Jack again. He finally picked up the phone and answered in a hushed tone. "What's going on?"
"You okay?"
