Forged in Desire (The Protectors #1)(53)
He was tempted to tell Stonewall to go to hell but knew Margo was listening to his conversation and she probably wouldn’t like it. Besides, Stonewall was right. He needed to get dressed quickly. They both did. “Thanks for the call.”
He clicked off the phone and turned to Margo, who was coming toward him with a towel. “Rain check,” he said, taking the thick velour towel from her. “We need to get dressed ASAP. Quasar is on his way and he has my boss with him.”
“I thought you said your boss was just feeling under the weather. Why didn’t you tell me he’d gotten shot?”
Striker shrugged. “At the time I didn’t want to go into detail.” No need to tell her the panic he’d gone through when Roland had been shot. The thought of almost losing him was something he didn’t want to think about. For Striker, Quasar and Stonewall, Roland was like an older brother. He’d been there for them when they had no one else. Shep, who’d been inside with them, had suggested that, after they’d gotten out of the slammer, they spend time with Reverend Luther Thomas, who dedicated his life to helping ex-cons get acclimated back into society as easily as possible with strong, positive influences. They had met Roland through Reverend Thomas.
“I still want details,” Margo interrupted his thoughts to say. “So what happened?”
He released a resigned sigh and then answered, “It was an attempted carjacking.”
“Oh. Did the police catch the person?”
“They haven’t yet. I guess they’re too busy trying to nab a hit man.”
“Well, at least I’ll finally get to meet your boss,” she said as she continued to dry off.
Striker wrapped the towel around his middle while wishing she could finally meet Roland another time. Now, as far as he was concerned, was lousy timing.
*
“DR. FULLER, WE’RE GLAD you decided to rejoin us.”
Randi glanced around the room knowing Special Agent Felton did not mean what he’d said. But she knew without being told that he had come under fire for not taking her findings seriously before. Most of the people in this room had. And because of their disregard, more lives had been lost. Now they would work with the devil himself if it meant catching a demented killer.
“So what additional clues do you have?” she asked Chief Harkins as she sat down at the table.
“As you’ve heard, the assassin struck down two people. Another juror and one of our federal prosecutors. We need to stop him before he hits again.”
She shook her head. “Too late. He already has.”
“What!” Harkins said, and he was out of his seat in a flash and checking his phone. “We don’t know anything about another hit that has taken place. Are you sure?”
She nodded sadly. “Yes. I got a mental flash of another victim the minute I entered this room.” She didn’t tell them of the physical signs—the cold chills that had gone through her body or the fiery feel of the blood rushing through her veins. Not surprisingly, most of the people in the room looked at her with skepticism all over their faces. They still didn’t want to believe her. They didn’t understand how anyone could possess the psychic abilities that she did. If only they knew how hard she had fought against the powers that she’d inherited from her paternal grandmother.
At that moment both Special Agent Felton’s and Chief Harkins’s cell phones rang, and she could tell from the way the two men looked at her while they conversed that what she’d told them was being confirmed. Another person had been murdered.
Both men disconnected, and it was Harkins who spoke in an angry and disgusted voice to everyone in the room. “A news reporter who was in the courtroom that day just got shot down. He’s dead.”
He rubbed his face and then looked over at Randi. “You were right, Dr. Fuller. It seems the assassin struck again.”
“So what do you need from us?” Felton asked in an annoyed voice.
Randi stood. “The first thing I need is for someone to take me to the crime scene.”
A woman stepped forward and offered Randi her hand. “I’m Detective Joy Ingram, and I’ve been assigned to assist you any way I can.”
Randi took the woman’s hand, wondering about the strange vibes that suddenly passed through her. She forced a smile, deciding to analyze the strange aura later. “Thanks, Detective Ingram.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MARGO WONDERED WHY Striker was so uptight about his boss arriving with Quasar. She could only assume the security firm had a no-fraternization policy. If they did, the last thing she wanted to do was get Striker in trouble, though what they’d done in the shower had been the kind of trouble she’d enjoyed. He definitely wasn’t out of the woods yet for spying on her. She would have to think of a way to make him pay. Her mind was suddenly filled with a number of ideas. All of them were simply scandalous and all of them made her smile.
“What’s that smile for?”
She glanced over at him as they entered the kitchen. “Want a list?” Before Striker could give her an answer, there was a knock at the back door. “Sounds like our food has arrived,” she said.
She stepped aside, watched as he drew his gun in case her assumption was wrong. “Who is it?” He barked out the question.
“Quasar and Roland.”