Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Fred

I was brought into an interrogation room, but it was warm with light colors, cushioned seats, and even a coffee machine inside.

"This is nice," I said as I took my seat.

"Yeah, this is our ‘we need to talk to you but you're not going to jail' interrogation room." He laughed. I found Detective Walters to be a nice guy.

"Well, I do appreciate that."

"Coffee?"

"No, thank you. I'm good. While this is a lovely interrogation room, I would like to leave it as soon as possible."

He smiled. "Understood."

Once he sat and had a tablet and notepad in front of him, he spoke. "First, I'd like to express my condolences for the loss of your uncle and cousin."

It wasn't completely unorthodox for a cop to be kind, but it certainly was rare, so I was sure my face showed my surprise.

"Uh, thank you."

He shrugged. "Sean Brennan was a good man…Well, I mean he was always respectful. He'll be missed."

I was truly touched, but I didn't want to fall into a pit of na?veté and start blubbering to this detective over how nice it was to hear that. Instead, I sniffed and nodded.

"I was told you had some questions for me."

"Yes. Honestly, if you could tell me where you've been all this time, that would be great."

"I'm staying at a friend's residence. I haven't disclosed the address to anyone, for obvious reasons. I also have had to take a leave of absence from work due to suffering a minor concussion the night of the shooting and also for bereavement."

"I can understand your need for discretion, Mr. Brennan, but it would be very helpful for me in this investigation if I knew how to contact you."

"I can give you my personal cell phone number, Detective, but since I have no idea who did this, I'd like to keep where I am quiet for now, if that's okay."

He regarded me a moment and gave me a curt nod. "For now."

"Thank you."

He then went on, asking me to recount the evening all the way up until I passed out. He asked if I had enemies, to which I simply quirked a brow and he understood.

"Look, Detective, let's cut to the chase. I'm aware there were three guns used in this drive-by?—"

"Four," Detective Walters interrupted.

"I'm sorry, what?"

He sighed. "I'm really not allowed to discuss information in an active investigation, but I spoke with my chief, and he feels we can actually work together on this and bring whoever did this to justice…if you'll let us take them in."

That was certainly not a promise I could keep—but in for a penny, in for a pound. "Fair enough. I'm a doctor after all; I'm about saving lives, not taking them."

"On a hunch, when forensics were canvasing the scene and beyond, I wondered about prior to the shooting."

"Before it happened?"

"Yeah, before the SUV came into sight."

"Why would that even cross your mind?"

He lifted one shoulder. "Like I said, a hunch. I always trust my gut."

Back to guts again. "And did you find anything?"

"I did." He pushed over a picture of a nine-millimeter glock. "It was tossed behind a dumpster on Elm Street."

That was the road I'd seen the SUV turn from. "And you think it's connected with what happened to my uncle and cousin?"

"I do, but it's suspicious."

For many reasons. "How so?"

"It's what we call a blank bullet gun." I didn't need to ask what that was, but I pretended not to know so he'd explain. We all knew I was the boss of the Brennan family, but I didn't need to advertise it. Plus, maybe he'd say something that would help later.

"Some people have these when they don't want a regular weapon in their home. It's the type of gun that scares off attackers by producing a sound much like a real gun would. Difference is, it doesn't release a projectile."

"Why would that even be in a vehicle doing a drive-by?"

Walters hummed. "Why indeed? And more so, why was it tossed moments earlier?"

We spoke for a few minutes, and he took down my cell number. I answered everything but garnered no further information from him. I let him know I'd spoken with the owner of the SUV and we'd both come to the conclusion that it was a setup. The detective informed me that the police were looking into all angles.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Brennan, and please reach out if you learn anything."

I shook the detective's hand and walked out toward the waiting area, where everyone was.

Vincenzo stood as soon as I came into view. I tried to hide the confusion, worry, and anger from my face but I knew he saw it, because he narrowed his eyes.

"Ready to go?"

I nodded and scanned the area. "Where's Aiden?"

"Outside. He didn't return after you told him to tell the attorney not to come, but Thomas said he's been sitting in the SUV."

I couldn't deal with Aiden's temper tantrum right now. I needed to get to the house and let them all know what I'd learned.

"Let's go."

Aiden was sitting in the passenger seat of the SUV. I took the same spot I'd had on the way to the station, and Vincenzo scooted in beside me. He briefly squeezed my hand and settled in.

Once we were on the way, my mind wandered. A blank bullet gun. Why would they need that if they intended to kill all of us? It made no sense. And then to suddenly discard it right before? Why would they do that ? I had more questions than answers.

Once we returned to the house, I'd be sure to run all of it by everyone and listen to every theory possible.

I regarded Aiden in the passenger seat. He was typing away at his cell phone, and I hated the unease I felt as I watched him. I'd always trusted him with every facet of my life. His job was more than just being a driver; it was keeping me safe, and he'd always done that. Why would he be behind getting me killed? Maybe that was why he was so angry with me, because I was treating him like he was responsible, and his feelings were hurt. Fuck, life was hard.

I opened my mouth to say something to clear the air, and Thomas swerved quickly to the left.

"Sir, we're being followed." He was talking to Vincenzo, who was on his phone in a second.

"Beau, we're being followed." He turned to see behind us, and I did the same. "Three cars back—black Cadillac. Shit, there's a van directly behind the caddy, on its tail; they're together."

"Plan B, sir?" Thomas asked.

"What's plan B?" Aiden reached inside his jacket and pulled out a gun.

"Yeah," Vincenzo answered.

"Stay calm, Aiden." I reached over and put a hand on his arm. "Be ready but calm, please."

He clenched his jaw but nodded. His gun was clutched in his hand, resting on his lap.

I turned to see if they were gaining on us just as we were rammed on the right side by a pickup truck.

"Fuck," Thomas shouted.

"Not just the caddy and van, then," Vincenzo growled. "Zion, find us a way out of this."

"On it, sir." He pulled out his tablet—probably to search alternative routes—and I looked up ahead of us to see the large pickup truck trying to drive Beau's SUV off the road.

"Slam the truck," I shouted.

"That's insane," Aiden argued.

"Slam. The. Truck!" I repeated.

Thomas hit the gas harder and rammed the back of the pickup. We were all ready for it, so we braced ourselves, but the truck jolted to the right and we watched as it spun out of the way.

"That's one down," Vincenzo said, but all I could do was stare at Aiden, who was glaring right back at me.