"I'll decide the charges."
"Really, there's nothing to charge me with since nothing happened," said the man, "but I'll admit shooting at the woman and her guy. Again, not a murder charge, or even attempted murder. I'll do some time, but not for that."
"Who put you up to it?"
"Don't know his name but I met him at an auto bodyshop on Ninth Street. His choice of venue. Didn't look like he worked there so it was probably just a convenient location. He paid me five grand to shake up some guy and cause a big scare."
"You sound pretty scared," said Garrett.
"I am. I have a family. Please, you have to help me. I'm confessing! What more do you want from me?"
"Tell me what the man at the bodyshop looks like."
"Five-ten, dark hair, Caucasian. Got a birthmark the size of a dime on his right hand. Dresses like he's into stocks or some other kind of profitable business. Expensive clothes and shoes. Nice watch. He got into a Mercedes afterwards."
"That sounds like Grant Copley," said Maddox. "This finally connects the dots."
"Which is great, but it doesn't help us find Damien," I said.
"No, it doesn't but we’re getting very close to finding out what is going on."