Finlay Donovan Jumps the Gun (Finlay Donovan, #3)(80)

I hurried to Joey on trembling legs and dropped to my knees at his side, my hands pressed to the floor as I listened for breaths. A faint pulse fluttered in his throat, but for how much longer? Blood was spreading quickly from a cut behind his head. It trickled over my fingers. I pushed aside Joey’s coat, leaving thick, red smears on his shirt as I searched for an entrance wound, but the tiny hole in the fabric was dry.

I slid a finger through it, over the sturdy layer of Kevlar hidden underneath.

My mind rushed back to his last words to Cam.

It’ll be okay … lower the gun.

Not drop the gun. Lower it.

Cam must have figured out what Joey was trying to tell him—that he was wearing a vest. I nearly cried out with relief. Cam’s eyes were glassy and pleading when I stole a look at him over my shoulder, the warning in the shake of his head so small, it was almost imperceptible.

I stood, my hands raised as I returned to the center of the court, letting Feliks get a good look at the blood on them.

“He’s dead.” I didn’t bother to hide the quiver in my voice. “You’ve done what you came to do. EasyClean is no longer a problem for you. The police are probably already on their way. You should leave while you still can.”

Feliks nodded, satisfied. He put an arm around Cam, bringing their faces close. “I’m sorry your induction to our family had to be such a difficult one, but eliminating your uncle was a necessary task.”

Uncle?

Feliks cocked an eyebrow at my gasp. “You seem surprised, Ms. Donovan. I assumed you, too, would have made this discovery by now.” I stared at him, baffled, as he explained. “After you and your nanny discussed Detective Balafonte last night, I had my people do a bit of digging to confirm your suspicions. In doing so, they came across a rather interesting connection. It seems Cameron’s father was a police officer, one who used to do odd jobs for me from time to time. It was during one of those jobs that he met an unfortunate end.” Cam stared at the floor, his expression numb, as if he already knew. “Detective Balafonte requested a transfer to this jurisdiction after his brother’s death, presumably so he could keep a closer eye on his brother’s illegitimate son—and me.”

Feliks dropped a possessive hand on Cam’s shoulder. “Cameron’s Uncle Joey arrived here last year, just in time to negotiate a deal to keep his nephew from being lost to the juvenile justice system. By making Cameron his very own confidential informant, Joseph could more easily keep the boy under his thumb. However, that wasn’t the only secret Joseph was keeping from his colleagues here. You see, he was granted a transfer here in exchange for his participation in an Internal Affairs investigation. Under the guise of rooting out corruption in the department, he’s been quietly surveilling the police officers I’ve employed. Apparently, he’s been using the information he gleaned to exploit my vulnerabilities.” Feliks’s gaze dipped thoughtfully to the blood on my hands. “If Joseph blamed me in some way for his brother’s death, I suppose it makes sense that he was secretly out to ruin me. Though, given his pristine employment record, I’m surprised that blackmail was his weapon of choice; I would have expected a nobler pursuit.”

I stood there, dumbstruck as I tried to reconcile everything Feliks had just said. Joey was Cam’s uncle. All this time, he’d been working for Internal Affairs, lying to Nick—lying to his entire department—about all of it. Had he really been using his job only to uncover Feliks’s weaknesses and exploit them for revenge? Had my suspicions about Joey been right all along? It seemed easier to believe now, in light of these revelations, and yet I couldn’t shake the last thing Feliks said, about Joey’s character and his choices, the hint of doubt I detected …

The faint slam of a car door outside shook me from my thoughts. Feliks signaled to his men. Weapons drawn, they moved quickly to the rear exit. Feliks paused in front of me. The thumb of his leather driving glove traced the curve of my cheek. “How disappointing that our time together is up while we have so much unresolved business to discuss.”

He put an arm around Cameron and ushered him out.

When the door closed behind them, I rushed back to Joey. “Wake up!” I shouted, slapping his face. Buttons popped free as I tore open the front of his shirt. The bullet was lodged in his vest, just to the right of his sternum. I pulled at the straps, Velcro shrieking as I yanked them loose. Joey moaned. His eyelids fluttered, his pupils doing strange things in the low light. He blinked at the blood on my sweatshirt, his hands groping his chest for a wound that wasn’t there.

“You’re alive, you idiot. But you have so much explaining to do.”

Shouts came from the women’s locker room. Then the men’s. The gymnasium doors flew open. Nick, Georgia, Roddy, Wade, Ty, and Charlie all swarmed in with their weapons drawn. Vero rushed in behind them, a broken toilet paper dispenser dangling from her handcuffs. Wade flipped a series of switches on the wall and light flooded the room. The barrel of Nick’s gun shifted to each corner of the gym as he limped toward us.

“That way,” I said, pointing to the rear exit. Roddy, Ty, Wade, and Charlie rushed out the back door in pursuit, though I was sure they wouldn’t find anyone. Feliks would never have stepped foot on the campus without ensuring he had an exit strategy.

Nick holstered his gun as he reached my side, his eyes and hands frantically searching my clothes, my hair, my face. “Are you hurt?”