Shot in Darkness by Heather Sunseri

Author:Heather Sunseri
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sun Publishing

Chapter 11

Brooke

When the nurses came to “torture” Declan, as he put it, I took the opportunity to slip out the back entrance of the hospital. After ditching the agents Mike had assigned to tail me, I slipped into an Uber. I was eager to get to Ty’s, shower, and change out of the hospital scrubs.

“I wonder what’s going on over there?” the Uber driver said when he pulled up in front of Ty’s townhouse.

Police cars, dark sport utilities, and an evidence response team van took up the other end of the street where Bradley had lived.

“Who knows?” I said. I thanked the driver, then made a quick exit and jogged to the front door, hoping no one down the street saw me. I had no desire to speak to law enforcement.

After showering and changing, I went to my suitcase and found my latest purchase: a Glock very similar to my service weapon from the FBI. I was not in the habit of carrying it in my capacity of working for the Kentucky Office of Homeland Security unless I was working an actual case. My more petite Sig had been more than enough—I had thought. But now I strapped on my holster and slid the Glock into place.

I looked over at Thurston and Lovey, sleeping in the middle of the guest bed. They could probably use a walk, but… I decided they’d be fine until Ty and James got home. I didn’t want to risk being stopped by the FBI while walking the dogs.

My phone rang. “Fairfax,” I said.

“Brooke. Where are you?” Mike sounded panicked.

“Why?” I asked.

“The police want to bring you in for questioning. It’s out of the director’s hands at the moment, but I was instructed to warn you.”

“Bring me in?” I actually wasn’t surprised.

“The lead detectives on the case just sent a team to the hospital. Since I know you ditched those rookie agents, I’m assuming you’re already staying clear of investigators.”

I pulled a jacket over my T-shirt and holster. Dressed in jeans and running shoes, I headed downstairs. “Why are you and the director warning me?” I asked. In the kitchen, I began rummaging through cabinets, looking for something very specific.

“I told the director I thought you were hiding something. He ordered me to give you the time to explore whatever it is you think you know. But Brooke? Please be careful.”

“Got it. Tell the director I said thanks.” I hung up, then spotted the item I was looking for on the beverage cart in the corner of the dining room: a stainless steel cocktail shaker. I rushed over and grabbed it.

Then I wondered: Would the police be looking for my car?

Assuming they would, I went back to the kitchen, grabbed the keys to James’s car, and headed for the garage.

As I turned the corner, leaving the kitchen, a man appeared.

He was fast and had a hand over my mouth in a flash. “Don’t scream. The team down the street might hear you.”

I stared into hazel-green eyes. The man’s dark, almost black hair was spiked in the front.

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