Page 19 of Christmas Homecoming Secrets
Bryce shook his head.
“Bryce!”
He turned to find Jade staring at him.
“You okay?” she asked.
How long had she been calling his name? He sucked in a breath. “Yeah. Fine. Where’s backup and the paramedics?”
“Almost here. How’s Tony?”
“He’s unconscious, but still breathing.”
Another long minute passed, but finally the sound of sirens reached him. Officers rushed in. As soon as they cleared the scene, paramedics hurried to Tony, and Bryce stepped back.
He turned to Jade, who studied him. “You sure you’re all right?” she asked, her eyes clouded with concern.
“I’m fine. What have you got?”
She held up a bag. “Found the weapon. A witness saw him toss it into a trash can. Probably worried about getting caught with it. I’m going to get the registration number off this weapon and see if we can find out who it’s registered to.”
“If it’s registered,” Bryce said.
“True.”
Bryce waited while Jade spoke to fellow officers and passed the weapon off to one of the crime scene unit members.
Two hours later, Bryce had finished giving his own statement and was now in the role of observer, trying to figure out his next move while he studied the cops on the scene. Not that the cops Frank suspected of being dirty would have it stamped on their forehead, but he wanted to remember faces. He would put names to them later.
Jade approached, looking tired and worried. “You okay?” he asked.
She kept asking him that and he wondered what he’d done to give away his internal struggle against the memories. “Sure. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yeah, I am. What about you?”
She arched a brow at him, and he knew he wasn’t fooling her. “Ready to go home,” she said. “I can do the paperwork on this from there.”
“I’ll follow you,” he said.
“No need. I have to stop and get a Christmas tree before I walk through the door or my name will be mud.”
“I’ll still go with you.”
She didn’t move, just studied him, a new look in her eyes. A guarded one that he didn’t like. Before he could wonder about the source of it, she shook her head.
“What am I missing, Bryce?”
“What do you mean?”
“Who was the target? Tony? Or me? Us? I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Tony got shot the morning I came to talk to him.”
“I agree.” He paused. “Did someone follow you here?”
“Possibly. Or you.” She rubbed her head as her phone buzzed. “Detective Hollis. Uh-huh. Okay, thanks. That’s kind of what I figured.” When she hung up, Bryce raised a brow. “The weapon I recovered was stolen.”
“Of course it was.”
