Page 117 of Smoke Screen
Did she? She didn’t know. But this, this internal mayhem, wasn’t working.
She waited a beat, the hesitation bringing his gaze back to hers and locking on. “Yes,” she said. “That’s what I want.”
He stepped back as if she’d struck him. As if the mighty Phin Blackwell, conqueror of men and women alike, couldn’t believe it.
“Well,” he said, holding his arms wide, his face solid stone. “No one is forcing you to stay. If you want to go, then go.”
23
The soundof a knock on his door roused Phin from what couldn’t be considered sleep. It was more like a war between conscious and not. He forced his eyes open, battling the grit that might as well have been glue trying to keep them closed.
Sunlight sliced between the curtains, the glare damned painful. Jesus, he was tired. Physically and emotionally strung out.
No wonder he didn’t like to think too much. Between he and Maddy almost getting shot and trying not to piss off his brothers, all this emotional nonsense exhausted him.
The knock sounded again. “Phin?”
Zeke’s voice.
Instantly awake, Phin rolled out of bed, adjusted his basketball shorts, grabbed a T-shirt and slid it on as he hustled to the door. “Coming!”
He swung the door open and Zeke, freshly showered and looking way more rested than Phin, stepped in. “Sorry I woke you. I tried your cell.”
His cell? How did he not hear it? He glanced around, spotted it on the coffee table, and picked it up. Dead.
Christ almighty. When was the last time he’d let that happen? Refusing to admit his carelessness, he tucked the phone in his pocket. “Sorry. Didn’t hear it. What’s up?”
“I talked to Thompson. He knows about Brendan Eckert dying. Now, we’re heading to the Center to show him the video you found.”
Okay.That was worth waking him up for. He needed to get showered and dressed ASAP. “Does he know what’s on it?”
“No. I told him we wanted his take on a few things. Figured we’d show it to him cold.”
“Smart move. He’s a politician. Any warning gives him time to prep. This way, you get his initial gut reaction. Plus, if you tell him why we’re coming, the first thing he’ll do is pull the footage himself or call the kid.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
Phin nodded and started toward his bedroom to pull fresh clothes from his closet. “Give me fifteen to shower and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“No.”
He stopped walking, stared right through the bedroom doorway for a second, then angled back. “No, what?”
“No, you’re not coming.” Before Phin could muster an argument, Zeke’s hands shot up. “After what happened with you and Maddy yesterday, I’m not taking a chance. It’s too dangerous. That shooter might be ready to eliminate witnesses.”
Tired or not, Phin had to keep his cool. Yelling never got him anywhere. He slowly turned, choosing his words as he moved. “If they were after us, they’d have gotten us yesterday.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’ve been involved in this case from the start. Every step. Now you’re freezing me out?”
Zeke folded his arms, spread his feet, and pushed his shoulders back. The I’m-in-charge stance. “You and Maddy will be safe here. Mom won’t have to worry and neither will I. It’s one meeting. We can video you in, if you want.”
What he wanted was to go to this goddamned meeting, see what was what with Louis Three and find those damned jewels. Maybe then he and Maddy could get back on track. Whatever that track might be.
But Zeke was dug in. The posture? Dead giveaway.
“I guess I’m staying here then.”
