Page 26 of Rules of Engagement

Chapter Seven

"Ninety-seven names in twelve minutes." I stared at the slips of notepaper spread across the desk. "Solomon has that many enemies?"

"Most of them won't be any credible threats," said Delgado. "They're just some disgruntled people shooting their mouths off."

"But this is just off the top of everyone's head!" I pointed out. "How many more names are going onto the list in the next twenty-four hours? Or by the end of the week?"

"What do you want me to do with the names?" asked Delgado. He, Fletcher, Flaherty, and I sat around Lucas's desk, with Lucas hovering behind me.

"Copy all of these names and give the original lists to Garrett. I don't want to interfere with MPD's investigation."

"We can do it ourselves, said Fletcher. As an ex-CIA man, he could probably have gone to all kinds of places I couldn't imagine but it didn't seem like the right step.

"They can go places we can't. Plus, they can arrest whoever did it and ensure he spends the rest of his life behind bars."

"I was thinking six feet under," said Fletcher, tapping his gun.

It entered my mind too, but I was pretty sure that also wasn't the way to go. While I occasionally crossed the line between legal and not so legal, it was usually for the benefit of someone. I couldn't guarantee killing the lowlife who shot Solomon would be for the benefit of anyone, or anything but my own satisfaction. "No," I decided, a little unsure if Fletcher's bravado was shining through or if he really meant it. Either way, I had to make sure he knew I didn't agree with him, at least from a legal perspective. Personally, I had no issue with mercilessly kneecapping the scumbag. "No, we need to make sure the shooter is caught and can’t possibly get away with it when it goes to court. Plus," I added, when another thought popped into my head. "What if the shooter doesn't have an issue with Solomon? They might have just been a hired gun. If someone else ordered this hit, we need to find a way to get to the original source. Can't do that if the shooter is lying in a shallow grave."

"I could make them talk first," said Fletcher. I shook my head at him and his jaw clenched.

"If this were truly a hit, then we're looking at money. Solomon would be a high value target, and not easy to surprise," said Delgado.

"He thought he was answering the door to the pizza delivery guy," I said.

"Could your phone have possibly been tapped?" asked Flaherty.

"I don't know. I hadn't considered that. Lucas, is there a way to find out?"

"On it," said Lucas. He stepped forward, then stopped. "I'll wait until you're done," he said. "I'll know within the hour. I'll make these copies first," he added, scooping up the notepaper.

"How much do you think a hit on Solomon would be worth?" I asked, and a wave of nausea filled me at saying the words I never thought I'd ask.

The three men looked between them, having some kind of silent conversation that involved a nod of the head, an eyebrow raise, another one, and then a sharp intake of breath. "A million plus," decided Delgado.

"A million dollars?" I yelled. All heads turned towards us and I ignored them, asking again in a quieter voice. "Are you serious? A million dollars to shoot a man?"

"A million plus. Chump change for a few names on the lists," said Fletcher.

"Who did you see?" I asked.

"A Texas oil magnate, an airlines owner, and an Arabian tycoon," said Delgado.

"He and the tycoon already made up," said Fletcher. "He got into a pickle and Solomon helped him out two years ago so now they're good."

I blinked at them, completely at a loss for words. "Do I want to know more?"

"Probably not," said Delgado. "But it involved an oil tanker, the tycoon's son, a python, and three ladies of questionable morals."

"I guess I do want to know now. Keep the name on the list until he's ruled out," I decided. Mentally, I formed a very strange image but I wasn't sure what to do with the python.

Lucas returned with the photocopied lists. "I made a copy for each of us," he said. "And your brother is at the door right now, scowling."

"Go let him in and put these copies away," I said. Standing up, I called out, "MPD incoming. Screen sensitive please." Around the room, screens went dark before Garrett stepped in. He spotted me and walked directly over.

"These are the initial names of people who might bear grudges against Solomon," I said, handing him the slips of paper.

He took them, scanning them quickly. "How many names are on here?"

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