“Warwick, we’ve gone over this,” Gerald said. “I was there in the room, too, son, and I never saw this coming.” His shrug said it all. “We checked everyone who entered that place, especially the hired help. I can’t figure how that man got past security with that gun.”
“That’s just it,” Shane said, logic coloring his words. “He didn’t. Someone had to give him the gun or put it where he could find it. Someone from the inside.”
“Well, thankfully we got the man alive. And you saved my daughter’s life,” Gerald replied.
“But I was assigned to watch her,” Shane said, looking down at his discarded, black bow tie, his mind whirling with images of people running and screaming and a lone gunman standing near an exit door, his sleek gun held with one hand just underneath the shield of his other raised arm. And aimed right toward Katherine Atkins.
“If that camera flash hadn’t gone off, she would have died right there beside me.”
“But that’s the fact, Warwick,” John said. “You were right there beside her and your quick actions saved her. And a lot more people, too.”
Gerald nodded, his fingers thumping on the table. “And that fancy stun gun you carry around put the shooter out cold. Fancy little gadget, that thing. Left a bullet hole in that man’s shoulder but kept him alive for questioning.”
Well, a Glock .357 with a suppressor wasn’t exactly a stun gun, but this was Texas after all. These men were better suited to rifles and shotguns, or maybe six-shooters.
Shane went back over the details. “It was chaos at first, but a lot of the guests did manage to get out of the room. The few who were left stayed behind tables and doors. Thank goodness we only had two wounded and no one dead.”
Yet he couldn’t get the memories of shattering glass and frightened screams out of his mind. Nor the image of Kit reaching up a hand to take his after he’d felled the crouching shooter, her eyes locking with his when he’d lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the room. He could still smell the scent of lilies on his clothes.
And he still had to wonder if the shooter, who’d also had a silencer on his gun, had been there alone. Or if this had been carefully planned by someone close to Katherine.
“The papers will be all over this tomorrow morning,” John warned. “But it can’t be helped. The official word will be that someone allegedly came into the room with a gun, but was apprehended and arrested on the scene. It’ll be listed as an attempted robbery due to the elite crowd, most of them wearing expensive baubles and carrying big wallets. We don’t want any more information than necessary leaking out, especially anything regarding Katherine being the target.”
“As far as I know, none of the people there are aware of that,” Shane said, not ready to voice what his instincts seemed to be shouting. “And frankly, gentlemen, I didn’t stick around to do damage control. My only intent once the shooter was secured was to get Katherine to a safe location.”
John Simpson glanced over at Gerald. “And we’ve put out the word that Katherine and you have been dating, so you’ve taken her to a secluded location to get over the shock of what happened. That way, the press can leave her alone. We hope. The official statement should be in the papers and on the news tomorrow.”
“That’s our best cover,” Shane agreed. And that’s exactly what he’d planned to insinuate to the public—that they were an item. Well, the best laid plans of mice and men…
“You did the right thing, bringing her here,” Gerald said. “You have my gratitude.”
“I’d like to check on her,” Shane said, wondering if he’d be dismissed or watched himself. These three men were some of the original five-man team that had started CHAIM all those years ago, halfway around the globe while they’d all served their country in Vietnam and later, other areas of the world. They were still a force to be reckoned with. “If I may have your permission, Gerald.”
Gerald gave him a mean-hard stare, but nodded. “Her mama’s in there with her right now. And trust me, son, you don’t want Sally Mae getting her dander up again tonight. She was in a real tear about her daughter almost getting shot, let me tell you. I should have sicced her on that gunman. She’d get some answers.”
“I do believe she would have, sir.”
Gerald ran a hand over his silver hair. “Better give them some time together before you go knocking on any doors.”
“Duly noted,” Shane said, his smile tired. Sally Mae had nearly taken down the house earlier, demanding to see her daughter, and she didn’t care if it hair-lipped the governor. Frightful woman she was when she was in a tizzy. “I’ll be out on the back patio then.”
He took his leave, knowing they’d want to discuss this latest development in private. He’d get his orders soon enough. But right now, he needed some time to digest all that had taken place. And he needed to find a way to make sure an incident such as this never happened again. Because that shooter had been a hired expert. Hired from someone high up and able to afford an assassin. Shane couldn’t get the notion out of his head that maybe that same someone had been in the crowd tonight.
He had to get Kit to safety. And that meant away from Austin and away from Eagle Rock. He knew how to hide a person. And besides, he knew exactly which room they’d whisked Kit off to earlier and he wasn’t above breaking into that room to make sure she was safe.
She might not ever feel safe again. In spite of having a warm bath and putting on a soft cotton tunic, matching pants and a cashmere robe someone had handed her a few minutes ago, Kit felt cold and clammy. But she held herself tightly together because she refused to shiver in fear.
“Honey, why don’t you lie down?”
Kit turned from the drape-covered, bulletproof window to find her mother hovering near the brocade sofa of the cozy sitting room just off the bedroom. “I’m not sleepy, Mother.”
“I could give you something,” Sally Mae Barton said, reaching into her purse. “I have a sedative.”
“I’m not taking a pill either,” Kit said. “I just want to go to my own home. When can I leave Eagle Rock?”
“Oh, now, honey, I don’t know about that. Your daddy is in a real pickle about what happened. I can’t say when you’ll be able to leave.”
“You can’t be serious,” Kit said, pacing in front of the fireplace. It was late summer and humid even at this hour, but she thought about building a fire. Only, someone would rush to stop her. Too many people were hovering around her tonight, stifling her with well-meaning concern. She just wanted to get away from it all.
She thought of Shane and wondered where he was. Had they sent him away? No, her father wouldn’t do that. He liked Shane and trusted him or he wouldn’t have brought him here. Shane had done everything in his power to help her, and she owed him her life. He’d saved a lot of people’s lives tonight.
“I want to see Shane,” she announced to her mother.
Sally Mae lifted a slender hand through her dark hair. “I don’t think that’s wise, darlin’. It’s late and he’s in with the others right now. You just need to rest.”
Kit wasn’t about to rest. “Mother, I can’t sleep. I’m too keyed up. And I’d like to talk to the man who put his life on the line in order to save mine tonight.”
Sally Mae stood to her five-feet-two-inch height. “You can’t do that, Katherine.”
Katherine wasn’t having any of that. Her mother might have been a CHAIM operative in her heyday, but she wasn’t going to bully Kit with that superior attitude. “Mother, I want to see Shane and if I have to scream at the top of my lungs and sound every alarm in this stucco and brick fortress, I’ll do it. I’ve had about enough for