Secret Stalker. Lena Diaz
I’ve got you, Bex. Everything’s going to be all right.”
She should have told him to put her down, that she was perfectly capable of walking on her own. But she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. Her whole body seemed to have turned into a mass of shaking nerves. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and selfishly buried her face against Max’s chest while he carried her to the front of the store.
She sensed others around them now, heard someone ask Max something but didn’t catch his murmured reply. More sounds—voices, boots scuffling across the floor. Her traumatized mind grasped what was happening, that help had finally arrived, that the SWAT team must be clearing the store and securing the scene. But she couldn’t seem to force her eyes open or loosen her grip around Max’s neck as he carried her outside.
Max leaned against a Destiny PD patrol car in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot, in a circle with the five other officers who made up the SWAT team, all in full tactical gear except him. Since the danger was over, they were talking in detective mode, trying to figure out what had just happened.
There’d been no fatalities. The only people to get shot were two of the gunmen, courtesy of Max, and they were on their way to the hospital. The three other bad guys were on their way to the county lockup. But the grocery store and surrounding area were still bustling with firefighters and police officers and would be for quite a while as they sorted through the mess.
Chief Thornton, who’d been talking to the fire chief, shoved his way between team lead Dillon Gray and his best friend, second in command Chris Downing. The others—Donna Waters, Colby Vale and Randy Carter—widened the circle to make room.
Thornton looked at each of them, a ferocious frown on his brow. “Where’s the new guy?”
Max’s lips twitched at the shrugs and carefully blank looks on Dillon’s and Chris’s faces. The chief was having a heck of a time trying to force everyone to accept a new member onto their SWAT team and detective squad. Blake Sullivan was still learning the ropes of Destiny PD and no one was exactly rolling out a welcome mat for him.
The guy was former military and had been a detective in Knoxville before relocating here. He’d made it clear on his first day that he expected to step right into the action. It had been a bitter pill for him to realize he had to spend several months as a uniformed beat cop first—as they all had—to learn the station’s routine and his way around the county before becoming an active member of the team.
Thornton turned around, looking for his beleaguered new hire, then put his hands on his hips. He’d obviously spotted Blake, fifty yards away, looking bored as he leaned against the ambulance where Bex was being examined by an EMT.
“Why isn’t he wearing tactical gear like the rest of you?” Thornton demanded, directing his question at Dillon.
“When Max’s call came in, we had to hustle,” Dillon said. “Didn’t have time to coddle a newbie and bring him in on the assault.”
The chief narrowed his eyes. “This would have been a perfect opportunity to show him the ropes. Next time the team is activated, you had better include him. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir. I hear you.”
Max grinned. He wouldn’t bet a plug nickel that Blake would be included on their next callout. At this point, it was a matter of principle. Blake would have to show some humility before Dillon would back down. And judging by how distant and arrogant the new guy seemed most of the time, that moment of acceptance wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“Colby, go get Blake.” The chief jerked his head toward the ambulance.
Colby sighed and jogged across the parking lot.
“And you, Max, stop grinning like the village idiot and tell me if you recognize any of the gunmen. Chris snapped their pictures as they were brought out, minus the ski masks and sunglasses some of them were wearing.” The chief motioned for Chris to pass his phone to Max.
Max flipped through the images on the screen, then shook his head and returned the phone to Chris.
“None of them look familiar. I don’t think they’re local.”
“He’s right,” Dillon said, not even glancing Blake’s way as Colby ushered him into their circle. “We all grew up here. I may not know everyone in town by name, but I know most of them by sight. I’ve never seen any of those men before.”
“Let me have a look.” Blake held out his hand.
Chris arched a brow.
Max shoved him. “Give him a break. What could it hurt?”
Chris shoved him back but handed his phone over.
Blake’s jaw tightened. One of these days the guy would probably explode like a spring that had been wound too tight. Max wasn’t sure he wanted to be there when that happened.
“Well?” the chief asked, impatience heavy in his tone as Blake carefully examined each picture.
He handed the phone to Chris. “The second one and the last one are gangbangers from my hometown. I don’t know their names. But they have the same tattoos on their forearms as other gangbangers I’ve arrested.”
“They’re gang members from Knoxville?” the chief asked.
Blake nodded. “Those two for sure. Can’t speak for the other three. I can call my old squad, send them the photos to help us get IDs. Maybe the other ones just don’t have their tats yet. They have to earn them. But we can assume they’re all in the same gang.”
“We don’t assume anything around here,” Dillon said. “We deal in facts.”
Blake’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t rise to the bait.
Colby asked, “Why would street thugs drive forty-five minutes to storm a small, rural grocery store with assault rifles? They could have made a much bigger haul in Knoxville.”
“They didn’t get a haul at all. Didn’t even try,” Max said. “As soon as they came in, they started firing wildly into the air—except the one who shot at me. They split up as if looking for something, leaving only two guys to control the customers up front. But they didn’t seem to have a clue what they were doing. I was able to signal the manager to hustle the employees and customers into the cooler while I drew the gunmen’s fire. If they were there for money, they’d have all stayed up front and forced the manager to open the safe.”
Dillon crossed his arms, looking thoughtful. “They came here looking for something.”
“Maybe they were looking for someone.” Max nodded toward the other end of the parking lot.
As one they all turned to see Bex, still sitting in the back of an ambulance.
The chief motioned to Chris. “Text those pictures to all of our phones. Max, show the pics to Miss Kane and ask her whether she recognizes any of them.”
Max straightened away from the cruiser. “Dillon’s the lead. He should question her.”
A look of surprise flashed across Dillon’s face, but he took a step toward Bex anyway.
The chief put his hand on Dillon’s shoulder to stop him. “No. Max is going to interview her. The rest of you can change out of your gear and get initial statements from the other witnesses. The EMTs should be done checking them out soon. One of our officers is putting them in the break room as their medical reviews are done, unless any of them need to be hospitalized. You know the routine. Get those statements.”
Colby clapped Max on the shoulder in a show of solidarity as he and the others headed to their vehicles to shed their gear. When only the chief remained, he faced Max with his hands on his hips.
“Go on, son. Spit it out. You look like you’re chewing