Page 61 of Rules of Engagement

Chapter Fourteen

"What the hell is going on?" asked Maddox. "What just happened?"

I couldn't lift my head. All my energy was suddenly drained, leaving me with jelly legs and a head that was precariously balanced on a marshmallow neck. I raised a tired arm and pointed to my bedroom.

"Is someone in there? Something?" he asked. He released me, hurrying through. I rested my back against the landing wall and concentrated on staying upright. When he came back, his gun was reholstered. "That's interesting," he said. "That's a lot of weapons in there." He stared at me for a long moment. "I presume you didn't know about it," he said.

"No," I said weakly, summoning a shocked smile. "I fell against the wall and it just... popped out!"

"During your clear out?" he asked.

"I admit taking my anger out on the clothes."

"I see your purses remained unscathed."

"Some things are universally sacred." Sucking in a deep breath, I wondered how many more deep breaths I would need. "I'm sorry for flipping out."

"I think it's a natural reaction to finding an arsenal hidden in your fiancé's closet."

"Why would he hide it? There's a gun safe in the kitchen!"

"How big is the gun safe?"

"Not that big," I said, pointing to the closet. "What did he think would happen here?"

Maddox raised both eyebrows and I stopped talking. He was right. Solomon must have expected something and no amount of weapons could have helped him.

"What would you do if you found grenades in your fiancée's closet?" I asked.

"C'mon, Lexi. I'm a man. I'd want to know if I could play with them."

I laughed and soon realized I couldn't stop. I laughed until I had to grip my sides to stop them from hurting. I laughed until the tears flowed from my eyes and I had to wipe them off with my sleeve. When I couldn't laugh anymore, I yawned.

"Let's get that closet secured. Grab your stuff and we'll go. You need some rest," said Maddox.

I shook my head. "I can't. There's too much to do."

"And you have a team of very capable people to do it for you. Stop trying to micro-manage everything. Take a minute and breathe."

I started to tell him there was no time for that, when my phone rang.

"I've got my eyes on Mikey Gibbs," said Flaherty.

I was instantly on alert. "You're sure?"

"One hundred percent. I've been watching him for an hour to be sure and it's definitely him."

"Where are you?"

"Right outside his house. What do you want me to do?"

That question was even more loaded than Solomon's secret closet. There were several directions I found tempting to follow. I was sure if I asked Flaherty to shoot the man, he would have. I was also pretty sure he would look the other way if I, or anyone else, killed him, and that was rather tempting too. Yet, what about my former thoughts and the need to retain my humanity? Even if I ordered Mikey Gibbs' death, or undertook the job myself, what would become of me? How could my soul live on?

"We need to call it in," I told him.

"Just to be clear..." started Flaherty.

"I mean the police. Don't let him out of your sight. Get Fletcher over there..."

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