Game of Fear (Montgomery Justice #3)(57)

She unbuckled her seat belt. “Sure, you’ve stood beside me and you think I’m walking away now. Don’t even suggest it.”

“Whatever happened here isn’t about you or Ashley,” Gabe said, searching the crowd for some sign. Where were his brothers? God, if anything happened to Zach or Luke, he’d never forgive himself. Where was Hawk? His arm rested on the back of the seat. “This is about a job I need to finish. I must have been careless, and I don’t want to endanger you.”

She met his gaze head-on. “I took down a pervert cop today on my own. I think I can handle whatever comes my way. You can argue with me some more, or we can just get out of the car and see for ourselves.”

Certain they were making a mistake, but knowing Deb’s picture would likely be in the dictionary next to the word stubborn, he stepped out of his SUV. When his bum leg hit the asphalt, he landed wrong and fought against a groan. Most of the time, the thing held him up, but occasionally it would buckle. Three flights of stairs and hiking the hills today hadn’t helped.

With the audience, he let himself stumble to stay in character, but in reality he searched in desperation through the crowd for his brothers and Hawk. Face after face, and he couldn’t find them. A stone settled in the bit of his stomach.

Finally a tall, brown-haired head caught his attention. Luke.

Thank God.

Hawk followed behind him.

Luke raised a hand and raced over. “Where have you been? We’ve been trying to contact you.” He grabbed Gabe and hugged him tight and hard.

Confused at the intensity of his brother’s embrace, Gabe patted his brother’s back and met Jazz’s gaze over his brother’s shoulder. “Sorry. Detective Wexler put my cell phone into evidence. Long story. I picked up a new one. Same number. It’s charging. What’s wrong?”

Hawk raised an eyebrow as if the guy could read much more into the story than that. There was, but Gabe was used to Hawk’s skepticism. Hawk didn’t trust anything or anyone.

“Next time you get rid of your phone, tell someone,” Luke said, his voice a bit rough. “We couldn’t keep the news from Mom, she heard it on John’s police radio. She’s freaking, worried it’s your hand hanging from the porch.”

“What?” Deb gasped. “Is it—”

“Britney’s,” Gabe finished. “I hope not.”

Deb shifted her stance and a spotlight bathed her face in harsh light. Gabe winced at the discoloration.

“What the hell?” Luke said. “What happened?” He whipped around to Gabe. “What’s going on?”

“Some men don’t know how to stay down.” Deb pressed gently at the bruise. “I’m fine.”

She shrugged in that way Gabe had come to appreciate on the one hand and be irritated by on the other. She shoved aside what made her uncomfortable and moved on, never letting anything fester.

Except Ashley, of course.

“We have more important things to deal with than a little bruise. Can you take us to the . . . hand?”

“Sure,” Luke said, and led the four of them through the crowd to the front stoop of Gabe’s house.

A bloody hand dangled from a long string fastened to the underside of the porch roof. Someone had positioned it exactly right. Anyone walking past would see it.

“Who would have done something like this?” Deb asked. “It’s barbaric.”

Gasmerati was getting desperate. Gabe glanced over at Deb. Menken’s attack. His connection to Tower. He had to get Deb away from this place.

Just as he opened his mouth to suggest she leave, the medical examiner’s vehicle pulled into the lot. A woman dressed in black pants and a black jacket exited the van, her entire body stiff as she glanced around at the bunch of looky-loos. She dismissed them and pulled out a large case. She opened it, snapped on latex gloves, and grabbed a camera.

“Leah Hanson,” Luke said quietly. “The new coroner. A bit of controversy when she won the election out of nowhere. Now she’s in charge of a bunch of guys who’ve been at the ME’s office a couple of decades. Went over real well.”

Gabe noticed that Hawk’s interest had certainly piqued with the new arrival. He checked her out a little more thoroughly as she contorted to take several photos of the porch.

“Stop gawking,” Gabe snapped. “She’s examining a severed hand. No lusting allowed. That’s just sick.”

Hawk just shrugged. “Different strokes. You’ve got this covered. I’ll be in the bar. Zach can’t handle it on his own much longer.” He sent Deb a pointed look. “You be careful. And let me know if you need me to send a less-than-subtle message to the guy who did that to your face.”

He crossed the parking lot and vanished into the back of the bar.

“I’m afraid to ask,” Deb said.

“He wasn’t kidding,” Gabe said. “Hawk’s got a thing about women and children getting hit.”

“Just like I have a thing for people cutting off heads . . . and hands?” Deb took a step toward the gruesome scene, but a deputy stopped her. She scowled at him and the guy blanched at her expression. Gabe had to admit she really could be fierce when she wanted to.

After Dr. Hanson finally grabbed an evidence bag and moved over to cut down the hand, a small growl sounded from Deb.