Page 70 of Night Watch
“Understood,” Drake said.
Erik strode off. He heard his brothers talking but couldn’t make out their words. They were probably discussing the fact that he had the least amount of experience in law enforcement. It was true. He did. But he’d been an exemplary police officer and trained with Blackwell Tactical to improve his skills. The whole Nighthawk team had, but Erik had gone to Cold Harbor for one-on-one training with Blackwell’s owner. A former SEAL, Gage Blackwell was the best trainer in the area, and Erik had learned a lot from him.
But he hated the thought that kept niggling at his brain with each footstep. Today they might just find out how much he’d learned about protection skills.
The Kevlar vest was bulky and hot as the sun shone brightly in the morning already approaching eighty degrees. Kennedy kept tugging it down under her blouse as they waited outside Hess’s place for him to answer the door. She wished her dominant hand wasn’t bandaged and she could grab her gun if needed. But Erik and Drake were carrying, and they could stop any threat. Erik had pounded on the metal several times, but no answer. Hess was home. That was certain. The brothers had watched the place all night. They’d seen Hess go in and never come out.
Finally, heavy footfalls sounded on the other side of the black metal door.
“About time.” Erik waved his hands at Kennedy in a shooing motion. “If he’s our shooter and feels threatened, he could open fire. I don’t want you taking a bullet.”
She swallowed and moved back from the door. She knew visiting this man unannounced was dangerous. Not only had Erik and his brothers told her several times, but the bulky vest reminded her with every move. Suddenly the danger seemed real. Very real.
The door opened a crack, and a man matching Hess’s picture poked his head out. He ran a sharp gaze over them with penetrating brown eyes. “Yeah.”
He didn’t show any sign of recognizing her or Erik, just a hint of frustration in his large wide-set eyes. He had near-black hair cut military short. He was tall and wore an overshirt on top of a blue T-shirt and khaki tactical pants. His body was toned—maybe too toned for the suspect she’d seen at her mother’s place.
But what really caught her attention was the bump on his nose and the long pointy chin. He could be their guy, all right, or just another active guy who’d broken his nose at some point in his life. He was wearing a long-sleeved overshirt in summer, and she had to think he was using it to hide a weapon on his hip. She didn’t see a bulge, but she’d keep an eye out for it as she assumed Erik and Drake would do. Especially Drake. Erik explained that his brother would hang back, and his main focus would be protection so Erik could question Hess.
“Are you Mick Hess?” Erik asked, though he had to know from the race pictures that they were looking at Hess.
“Who wants to know?” Hess clamped his hand on the door and fired a challenge Erik’s way with his lifted chin.
“I’m Erik Byrd with Nighthawk Security. This is my brother Drake and forensic specialist Kennedy Walker. We’re working an investigation where the Hood to Coast race may play a part. We have some questions about the Redhawks race team.”
“Not sure how I can help you. You’re probably better off talking to our team leader.”
“Maybe so,” Erik said. “But since we’re already here, would you mind us coming in for a few minutes?”
He glanced at his watch. “I can’t be late for an appointment.”
“We won’t take long.” Kennedy said, smiling, hoping to ease the suspicion in his expression. “Please. It would be a big help, and I’d really appreciate it.”
She was flirting, and Erik cast her a dark look. When Hess smiled back at her, she let her grin widen. Based on his ease, she didn’t think he recognized them. Maybe he was just the grunt man and had been told to shoot at the car without knowing who rode inside. She glanced at his shirt again and spotted the holstered gun this time.
Her ease with the guy evaporated.
“Fine.” Hess stepped back. “But you’ve only got five minutes.”
Kennedy went first and kept her smile in place.
The apartment was sparsely furnished, the living room holding only an overstuffed black leather recliner and a matching couch along with a coffee table and the prerequisite huge TV with surround sound. Nothing on the walls but white paint.
Kennedy sat on the couch, realizing that, unlike a lot of bachelor pads, this place was sparkling clean. Maybe from his military training as his shirt and pants were pressed. Erik leaned against the wall next to the couch, and Drake remained just inside the door.
Hess looked at Drake. “You’re a jumpy one.”
“Yep,” Drake said, his expression remaining neutral.
Hess closed the door and took confident strides toward Kennedy. He stood near the end of the sofa, his focus on Erik. “So what did you want to ask about?”
“Your team wore wristbands with hawks on them,” Erik said.
Kennedy kept her focus on Hess, who didn’t seem at all troubled by Erik’s comment.
“Our leader used to work in the public affairs department on base, and she went all out when she put our team together. She had uniforms, a banner, and the bracelets made. We didn’t want it all, but once she gets going, you can’t stop her.”
“Do you still have your bracelet?” Erik asked.
