Marty, in plainclothes, was there playing bodyguard.
This was why Colt was antsy. Chris had done night duty, which was good. Colt could trust that Chris would stay alert all night. Marty, Colt couldn’t trust and he wasn’t happy leaving Feb at the bar even though Morrie was there, as was Darryl and, although they weren’t yet open, Joe-Bob had already been let in and was in his seat. It wasn’t exactly an army of protection but Denny and a hatchet would have some troubles getting through four men to get to Feb.
But Colt had a bad feeling in his gut, he’d woken up with it and it hadn’t gone away. And when he had this feeling, he didn’t want to be away from Feb. Therefore, even with four men between her and the possibility of Denny showing, Colt was still antsy.
Warren and Rodman were waiting for Colt to lay his caseload on Sean before they handed Colt and February over to the US Marshalls to take to the safe house. They were antsy too. Visibly so. Time enough had lapsed for Denny to hit town and they wanted this done so they could focus on the hunt.
“You’ll only be gone a day, two tops,” Sean said and Colt nodded, hoping Sean was right.
“Though, in that time, shouldn’t be hard for you to track down our guy,” Colt replied, talking about the stoned out burglar. “He should have gone through his stash by now and is likely looking to score again.”
Sean nodded back at Colt as three phones rang simultaneously and the vibe in the room suddenly went electric.
Colt tensed and his eyes sliced to Sully who was watching him as he leaned toward his phone. Sully didn’t get it to his ear before Colt heard footsteps coming up the stairs, fast.
He swiveled in his chair to see it was Betsy. She took one look at Colt, her face pale, her eyes filled with fear, that weight in Colt’s gut turned solid as an anvil and Betsy said breathlessly, “Shots fired at J&J’s.”
*
“Quiet,” Denny clipped.
I swallowed, turning around in my seat in the car to look at Melanie. I gave a shake of my head to the obviously petrified Melanie, who’d just been whining, making low keening noises around the gag in her mouth and doing this mainly because she was scared out of her brain.
“Sweetheart,” Denny called, his voice soft and loving and I knew he was talking to me.
I turned my eyes to him, I didn’t want to, but I did.
Light brown hair, good haircut, blue eyes, decent build, probably a couple inches taller than me, he looked like Denny, but a bit older.
And he was covered in blood. Joe-Bob’s blood, Darryl’s blood, maybe even Marty’s blood.
And his blue eyes were wild. I’d never seen eyes like that and they scared me more than the blood, more than what I’d just seen at the bar because I knew he wasn’t done.
I swallowed again and fought back the tears that were stinging the backs of my eyes and the scream that was lodged in my throat.
“You know, even when I was with her,” Denny went on, jerking his head toward the backseat where Melanie was tied up and gagged, “I only wanted you.”
“I know,” I forced out, my voice sounding ragged, thinking it prudent to play his game and trying not to think of much else.
“It’s only ever been you, February,” Denny said.
“I know,” I repeated and closed my eyes tight before I looked back out the front windscreen. Then I swallowed and called, “Alec?” and using Colt’s name to address Denny made me feel like I had acid poured on my tongue.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” Denny answered.
I searched for the courage I needed and pulled it up. “Can we just let her go?”
“Sweetheart.”
“I don’t want her here.”
“Oh,” Denny replied, “I’ll take care of her.”
Melanie squeaked in terror and I closed my eyes tight again.
That’s what I was afraid of.
*
There was a cruiser, lights still flashing, at the front of J&J’s and more sirens could be heard in the distance when Colt ran toward the front door. Sean and Warren were at his heels, Sully and Rodman not far behind them.
He had his gun in his hand but before he hit the door it flew open and Adam, a uniform, shot out, his hand to the radio at his shoulder, his mouth turned there.
“Officer down, J&J’s Saloon, I repeat, officer down, J&J’s Saloon.”
Adam didn’t even look at Colt as he ran to the trunk of the cruiser to get the first aid kit.
Colt ran into the bar.
Joe-Bob was by the front door, slashed to shit, blood everywhere. Colt didn’t even have to check to know he was dead.
He crushed down the rage that threatened to burn through him and saw Marty five feet away, on his back, covered in blood and looking either dead or, God willing, unconscious. Ellen, Adam’s partner, was on her knees beside him. At one glance Colt saw Marty took at least three bullets into the vest he was luckily wearing. Unfortunately, he also took one in the neck.
“Feb?” Colt asked Ellen, she shook her head, that anvil twisted, scoring against the lining of his gut. “Marty?” Colt went on.
“Breathing,” Ellen replied.
“Morrie?”
“Out back,” Ellen said, holding a bar towel to Marty’s neck and Colt ran to the back.
Darryl was on his ass in the alley, his face gray and pinched with pain, his back to the brick wall of the bar, blood spatters could be seen up his neck. Morrie was crouched beside him, his back to Colt, his body hiding Darryl’s.
“Morrie,” Colt called, Morrie twisted and Colt got a look at his friend and saw he was unharmed. Then he got a look at Darryl and skidded to a halt.
“Fuck!” Colt hissed and pulled his phone out of his back pocket.
“We need to get him to a hospital,” Morrie’s voice was soft and calm but it had an edge.
“Feb?” Colt replied, the phone to his ear and ringing.
“He got her. I’m sorry, boss. I –” Darryl started.
“Quiet, Darryl, just be still,” Morrie hushed him and Colt’s call connected.
“ETA on ambulances at J&J’s?” Colt asked Jo in dispatch but he heard the sirens out front.