Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Brodie had been, by all accounts, a dick from the beginning. He was lazy, surly, had a huge chip on his shoulder, and most importantly, didn’t care. His former boss, Kent Standish, had been fired as well for playing pass the trash with many transfers, not just Brodie. At the moment, though, it was far worse than anyone had anticipated.
“So you’re saying he’s the one who tried to shoot Eli this morning?” Ethan Sharpe asked Kage.
“That we don’t know. Wes found the gun that was used on the attempt on Eli’s life when he secured Doyle, and the ballistics match, but Brodie’s prints aren’t on the rifle.”
“That’s fast on the ballistics,” I said, because it was. The FBI moved faster than CPD, of course they did, they were the Feds after all, but even for them, that was speedy.
“The FBI takes marshals being shot at quite seriously,” Kage replied flatly.
Or more likely, Zane Calhoun, the special agent in charge in Chicago, a personal friend of Sam Kage, had jumped on that, especially after last Monday’s debacle with me and Crouse.
“Regardless if Brodie took the shot at Eli or not, it’s his anger that’s fueling this, so if we find him, we’ll find whoever else is involved.”
“Brodie tried to kill both Ian and Eli. Will he try again?” Chandler White asked.
“The FBI profiler says no,” Kage explained, “and I agree. Now it’s only me he’s after.”
I took a breath. “For you, sir?”
“I’m the one who fired him.”
He said all the words so calmly.
“What about your family, sir?” Bodhi asked the question the rest of us hesitated on.
“Let me be clear,” Kage said, taking a breath. “This is not some long, drawn-out revenge plot to make me suffer. Ian and Eli found the witness I fired Brodie over. In response, after stewing for nearly a year now, he’s taking his shot at us. He failed twice, he’s most likely enraged at this point, so he will come for me and me alone.”
“Yes, sir,” Bodhi said quickly.
“That’s not to say I don’t have my family watched. My husband has Dorsey and Ryan on him, yes?”
“Yessir, we’re here outside your house.”
“Good, thank you,” he rushed out and then went on, sounding calmer, “And my son and daughter are out shopping, and my daughter’s bodyguard is there keeping an eye on them.”
“Your daughter has her own bodyguard?” Kendall Cho asked.
“It’s a long story, but yes. He’s overly qualified to be a bodyguard, so I have every faith that a black-ops sniper, now in the reserves, will be a match for Gabriel Brodie.”
“More than a match, sir,” Cho assured him.
“The only thing we can’t account for is who might be collateral damage when he does come for me.”
“Then we have to find him first,” Jer Kowalski, director of Judicial Support, spoke up.
“Precisely. Which is why I need all my people here finding him. Rodriguez, who works in Vermont now, was questioned earlier this morning to find out all the places Brodie frequented back when they were partners here. Currently, the FBI is taking a deep dive into his life, but I need you all on the streets, hunting him down.”
It was what the marshals did.
“Well, sir, Bodhi and I are catching a ride back with your friend Commander Duncan Stiel, so we’ll be there around four a.m. or so.”
Silence.
I’d purposely used the commander’s name and not the billionaire’s to at least help a little. Everyone didn’t need to know his business.
“With Commander Stiel?”
“Yessir, he’s here in Seattle as well.”
Heavy sigh. “Good. Fine. Call me as soon as you touch down,” Kage advised me. “Everyone else off. I need to speak to Callahan and Redeker.”
You could hear the clicks of lines going dead.
“Something more, sir?” I asked Kage.
“I’m certain you want to know why Doyle called you, and I want to answer that.” The man was thorough in all his explanations.
“Yessir. Thank you, sir.”
“Well, Ian called you because there was only a push-button landline there in the basement meeting room, and for whatever reason, yours is the only number he has memorized.”
“What about Miro’s?”
“Apparently not. But I don’t have my husband’s number memorized either. Who does anymore? That’s what my phone is for.”
“Yessir,” I agreed because it was true. I had my sister’s number memorized because it had started out as the landline for the ranch which I’d used growing up, and became the one for the sanctuary. But it was the only one I knew by heart. I would have to learn Bodhi’s in case my phone and I were ever parted.
“Why does Ian know your number?” he asked me. “Why is yours so special?”
“It’s because it spells a word,” I informed him.
“What word?”
“Teddy-boo,” Bodhi chimed in with a chuckle. “But not boo like at Halloween, but the letters. B-U.”
“I see.”
“We were talking about stupid crap one day in the car, and it came up.”