Page 52 of Holding On to a Hero
Tranh: Yes. I was actually supposed to see them – Cole and Jason, I mean – when I drive through Texas later this week. I’m leaving tomorrow to go take care of my mother in Oklahoma.
Special Agent Bardo:Have you visited them in Texas before this trip?
Tranh:No. [sighs] I’m really worried about Cole, of course, but I haven’t been able to get hold of Jason, and I’m concerned about him as well. He must be so upset and stressed. I don’t suppose you could tell me where they’ve taken Cole, could you?
Special Agent Bardo: I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t disclose that information.
Tranh: Of course. I didn’t mean to put you in that position.
Special Agent Bardo: I completely understand. You’re concerned for your friend.
Tranh: Yes. Very.
Special Agent Bardo:Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm Mr. Washburn?
Tranh:No. He never mentioned anything like that to me. But it’s been a few weeks since we’ve done more than text about my trip details or send memes back and forth.
Special Agent Bardo:Did he ever tell you about any threats he might have received, or unsettling fan mail?
Tranh:[sighs] No. I mean, he’s complained about getting underwear and the usual shit that fans send to actors. I know his PA gave at least a few letters to the LAPD but I don’t know what was in them. I wish I could help you more.
Special Agent Tranh:All we’re looking for is the truth, and your information helps us rule things out, so we appreciate your cooperation.
Tranh:Of course. Do you have any other questions?
Special Agent Bardo:Just to be thorough, I need to ask you where you were on Thursday morning, October seventh, between 4am and 8am Pacific Time, and if anyone can verify your whereabouts.
Tranh:Of course. I understand completely. You have to ask everyone that, don’t you? Thursday morning about 8am I was in my uncle’s office in Pasadena. He runs the company that puts the stunts together. He’ll remember the meeting because I told him I was quitting. I’ll give you his contact information.
Special Agent Bardo:That would be very helpful, thank you.
Chapter Thirty-One
Will
I was beyond exhausted. It was after 2:00am and I hadn’t even been interviewed yet. Or interrogated, based on the no-doubt one-way mirror along one wall of the room they’d stuck me in. I was trying to avoid looking at my reflection. The purple shirt was even more wrinkled now, my hair was a mess and my eyes had bags for days. Even better, my back was starting to let me know it was pretty damn irritated about having to dodge bullets and then be in a cold room on an uncomfortable chair for three hours. Three hours of my brain spinning between guilt over Cole’s coma, guilt over Ally and Abby being in danger, and worrying about where I could go next.
I still had my phone, so I’d called Ally to let her know I wouldn’t be home tonight. She’d been horrified when I told her what had happened. And then I mentioned how concerned I was that this sicko might have been following me when I took Abby to school or the park, so Ally ended up agreeing that I couldn’t come home until this was over.
Now I was gearing myself up to call Brian Shelton. He needed to know that the shooter hadn’t been after Cole, but would the police be upset that I’d told him? I eyed the time on my phone. I’d been here for over three hours. Did I care that the police might be upset? Uh, no.
And Brian ran a security company. I needed some security, and he could help me figure out where to go when I left the police station. I looked at the time again. The guy had stonewalled me for almost two months when I begged him for any information on Cole or Jason. Did I care if I woke him up? Uh, no.
He answered on the third ring. Obviously he’d been asleep, which pleased my inner vindictive self to no end. “Hey, Brian. It’s Will Graham.”
“Will? What’s wrong?” At least he understood I wouldn’t call him in the middle of the night for no reason.
“The shooter, uh, shot at me earlier tonight. Or, well, at least someone did. I’m at the police station in Bent Oak.”
“What? Are you okay?” I could hear him getting out of bed.
“I’m fine, and the friend I was with is fine too. He hit my truck a couple of times.” I explained where we’d been and how no one saw the shooter.
“Do the police think this means you were the target all along?”
“I don’t know. I’m obviously worried that’s the case, but they stuck me in an interrogation room and haven’t been back to check on me in about three hours so I don’t have any updates.”
“You’re not under arrest. You’re allowed to leave. But you’re safe there and it might be helpful to the investigation if you stayed.” He paused. “I don’t think the Rangers have the resources to put you in protective custody. I’m in California right now, but I can send someone to pick you up and take you somewhere safe.”
