Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(32)
“No, ma’am. It’s not that simple. Gabe and I aren’t just bodyguards. We worked with Kelsey’s husband before he was killed. When it comes right down to it, I guess you could safely say we love her. We’re family.”
Enough with the melodrama. “Next you’re going to tell me you’d die for her.”
Agent Lennox didn’t even blink. “If dying’s what it takes.”
Darn. This wasn’t going well. Honestly, did he think he could impress her with all his military machismo? She stood her ground. At least she tried.
“You gave me your rules, now here are mine,” he said. “Until we know who murdered Kelsey’s husband, Gabe and I are here to stay, so you need to climb down and back off. We’re not here to fight you, but we have a job to do and we’ll do it. The boot trays are a good idea, but we’re on call twenty-four-seven. Boots and weapon are not optional. They stay. The dogs? They’re Kelsey’s. If she wants them inside, they’ll come inside. Hell, I don’t care if they sleep with her if it makes her feel better. As for you, stay indoors as much as possible. Do your job. Things are pretty quiet right now, but that can change. Let Gabe or me know if you need to leave the premises. I’m fine with your menu plan. You already know I’ll take my turn fixing meals. The soup should speak for itself.”
Great. He only agreed to the menu. Well, we’ll see about that.
“Why don’t you call the police if you’re so worried about Mrs. Stewart’s safety? Why do you think you have to take the law into your own hands? Are your guns registered?”
He didn’t bat an eye. “Yes, ma’am. We follow the laws of the land, same as you, but we’re here because the police can’t provide around-the-clock coverage like we can. Kelsey trusts us more than she trusts them, anyway. She might not be thinking quite right yet, but she wants us here.”
Shelby leaned against the back door, her hands behind her back. This guy thought he was pretty clever. Not so. Again, she had statistics on her side. “You do know that guns kill hundreds of innocent people every year, don’t you? The facts speak for themselves. Guns kill people.”
“No, ma’am. People kill people. Guns are tools, like steak knives and hammers. Besides, it’s not the law-abiding citizens who register their guns I’m worried about. It’s the guys who killed Kelsey’s husband and who might still come after her. Do you think they registered their weapons? Do you honestly believe the police could’ve gotten to her in time to help her that day at the river?”
Shelby swallowed hard. That was exactly what she’d believed. She’d lived a protected life and attended all the best schools. Not once had she doubted what her parents espoused. Law and order. The police arriving in time. Things like that.
Zack made the world sound scary and unpredictable enough that everyone should be armed, something she wasn’t willing to accept. She couldn’t let him have the last word. Some things could still be controlled. “I’m posting a menu. We will eat healthy while I’m here.”
He had the audacity to offer one sexy, chocolate-eyed wink, his face crinkled into a gentle smile. “Why do you think I fixed soup? Nothing helps a person feel better than homemade yeast rolls and chicken noodle. Sit down. Take a load off. You’ll feel better once you eat, too.”
“Well, okay. Let me see if Kelsey is ready to eat. It does smell good.”
“I’ll call Gabe. He’s been working all day. He must be starved like me.”
Shelby squared her shoulders and changed her mind. “Never mind. I’ll eat later.”
Mark turned his attention to Taylor. “Go ahead. Tell us what you’ve got.”
Most agents had worked through the night. Coffee cups cluttered the Situation Room conference table as information trickled in. Rory and Connor had yet to venture forth from the garage where they’d torn into Kelsey’s car.
Ember had located the list. Since then, she, Taylor and Izza had spent hours tracking the whereabouts of the gang of ten. The murder board now sported ten ugly faces, five of them marked through with a black X.
Taylor activated the slide presentation on the overhead screen and highlighted each crossed-out face while he explained. “We’ve narrowed the gang of ten down to five. Hank LaBouche, Alan Townsend and Teddy Whitaker are doing time for armed robbery in Florida. Ruben Ewing died last year of AIDS, and Rick Shuberg’s in a nursing home in Arizona with early-onset Alzheimer’s. That leaves us with these guys,” Taylor continued, hitting each remaining face with his laser pointer. “Clark Manson, Nate Stevenson, Rick Bukowski, Carlos Echevarria and Ron Fallon. They are definitely the ones we need to worry about.”
“What a bunch of losers,” Ember commented. “As Harley would say, these guys aren’t the brightest bulbs in the box. Which reminds me, any word from the Mortimers? Did they have their twins yet?”
“Yeah. Damn. Sorry,” Mark muttered. “The boys were born the day after we located Kelsey. Alexander Marcus and George Patrick. Mother and babies are doing fine. There was so much going on, Harley said he forgot to call, but he sounded good for a change.”
“We should throw him a baby shower,” Ember said.
“How much did they weigh? How long are they?” Mother asked sharply.