Bombshell
Page 90

 Catherine Coulter

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They walked back into the hall to see Sean’s mommy and daddy meet at the head of the stairs and speak quietly to each other, Sherlock wearing cat pajamas and Savich in a tee and boxers. They came over together, and Savich took Sean from her. Sherlock rubbed Sean’s back, and Astro started barking wildly again, and so she picked him up. He licked any part of her he could reach. “Yeah, yeah, Astro, stop eating my hair. Sean, did the alarm wake you up from a neat dream?”
Sean pulled back in his father’s arms. “Who wanted to get in Delsey’s room? She said it was the postman with special delivery, but that’s silly.”
Maybe so, but you’re not scared out of your head. Savich kissed his forehead. “We’ll find that out first thing in the morning, okay? I don’t think it was the postman, either. He’s too old to climb up to her window.”
“You’d have bashed him, Papa.”
“Yeah, there’s that. You ready to go back to dreamland?”
Sean nodded, looked over at Delsey. “You’ll take good care of her, won’t you, Papa?”
Sherlock gave him a smacking wet kiss. “We will, Sean, we both will. Now, we have a couple of patrol guys coming over. You and Delsey go back to bed, and your papa and I will speak to them. Sean, take Astro and give him lots of hugs; he’s still scared.”
The doorbell rang a minute later as they walked down the front stairs, Savich in sweatpants and Sherlock in a robe. Savich said, “I think the Trouble Magnet has landed in Georgetown. Amazing they’d come after her here. She knew, of course, and she’s scared. She doesn’t know yet that Griffin was hurt last night. I’ll let him tell her himself in the morning.”
“Have you checked your cell lately, Dillon?”
“It didn’t even cross my radar.”
“We got a text from forensics. They traced the serial number on the gun in Peter’s bedroom, the gun that killed him. You won’t believe this.”
Tuesday morning
Savich had half an eye on Sean as he ate a mini English muffin with turkey bacon and mayonnaise, his miniature BLT. Sean didn’t look at all upset, Savich thought, as if he’d already forgotten about all the excitement in the middle of the night. Astro was sitting at his feet, waiting for another piece of bacon Sean was sure to slip him. He pulled out his cell to call Griffin and saw that this time Bo Horsley had texted him and he simply hadn’t heard the buzz. I know you’re still up to your ears in bad guys. Call me when you can.
Savich started to punch in Bo’s number, realized Bo was right—he was up to his ears. Whatever was going on in New York, it could wait a bit longer. He looked over at Delsey as he tapped Griffin’s number. She was sipping black coffee out of a Redskins mug, trying not to look scared for Sean’s sake, maybe for her own sake, too. Her head snapped up when she heard him say her brother’s name.
Savich gave her a quick smile and walked out of the kitchen into the dining room. He didn’t want Sean to hear him—didn’t want to worry about Delsey, either, for that matter. He told Griffin concisely what had happened. “. . . Two officers were here within minutes, and the three of us checked out the neighborhood. There was nothing but the brand-new ladder.” He paused for a moment, listened. “No, Delsey’s all right, but she’s scared. You’ll need to tell her yourself what shape you’re in.”
“Yeah, I will. Got to assume he was after Delsey, maybe that gangbanger we saw in the alley outside the B&B, but in your own home? The same night they came at Anna and me in Maestro? Has whoever’s in charge in that gang totally flipped?”
Savich said, “These people are organized, but they appear to have more muscle and commitment than brains. They came at an alarmed house of armed FBI agents without even thinking it through. There are easier ways to take out a witness.”
Griffin said, “They must have been in a hurry. They had to be watching the house, watching you through the windows, if they picked the right bedroom.”
Savich said, “They’re crude and they’re acting desperate, and that makes them dangerous. I’ll take steps now, Griffin. Trust me, I’ll protect her. What’s happening there? How are you feeling?”
“My leg’s a little sore,” Griffin said. “The doc wants me to hang around until this afternoon, but we’re serving Salazar with a search warrant this morning, taking him into custody for questioning. No way I’m missing that.
“Savich, there’s something I’ve been thinking about. This gang has struck in Maestro three times now, always at night, and last night with a lot of firepower. But no one has ever seen a gang presence in town, or around Stanislaus. They’ve disappeared every time, around our checkpoints and everyone out looking for them. They’ve been moving drugs in and through the area, and the DEA hasn’t found them, either. I’m thinking they’ve got to have some local hideout somewhere near town they can get to by back roads.”