still unconscious. But I reckon he won’t talk when he does wake up.”
Shane looked from Gerald Barton to the two other men sitting in the darkly paneled study. They were back at the CHAIM fortress called Eagle Rock, in the secluded hill country just on the outskirts of Austin.
“He will soon enough,” Alfred Anderson said. “The Austin police will see to that.”
John Simpson grunted then took a long swig of coffee. “But he might rather be charged, tried and put away for a long time. Because if he speaks, he knows he could die inside prison or out. Smells like a deliberate hit to me.”
Gerald got up to stomp around the massive conference room. “At least she’s safe here.” Then he glanced at Shane. “She is safe here, isn’t she, Warwick?”
Shane used to be sure about such things, but tonight, he wasn’t so sure. He’d given a detailed statement to the locals and he’d gone over everything with his CHAIM supervisors. But something didn’t seem right. His ulcer was shouting a warning with quick spasms of heat. Pulling out a roll of antacid tablets, he chewed one then said, “I have some concerns, sir.”
Gerald looked affronted. “C’mon, Knight, you helped rebuild the security system in this place. Kissie and you both said no one can get in here.”
“What if someone is already in here?” Shane said. “It’s happened before.”
Gerald nodded. “He’s right. Devon Malone almost lost Lydia Cantrell because one of the servants wasn’t just here to fold napkins and plan meals. Tried to smother the poor girl with a pillow.”
“We’ve tightened things since then,” Alfred said. “My wife made sure of that. She was not happy that we’d let an assassin serve us dinner, let me tell you.”
In spite of the image of tiny, spry Lulu Anderson being peeved about a renegade butler, Shane still had his doubts. Something about this whole night didn’t make sense.
They’d made sure the hotel ballroom was secure, which meant someone on the inside had set this up. That was the only clear explanation. Or maybe he wasn’t thinking very clearly since he couldn’t stop thinking about Katherine Atkins. Think about the assignment, not the client, he reminded himself. He should have learned from past experiences to stay focused.
And yet, he couldn’t get the image out of his mind of Katherine’s hand reaching up to take his. Or the feel of her soft skin brushing against his.
“I just want to be sure we’re doing the right thing, sir. Another location might be more advisable at this point since we could have been followed. We need to get her away from Austin.”
Eagle Rock was Fort Knox—impenetrable and tightly secure, with everything from fingerprint and facial scanners to keypads with state-of-the-art biometric security. Which is why Shane had brought Katherine straight here, rather than take her to her home in Austin. This sprawling ranch-style mansion held eight bedrooms and as many adjoining baths, an industrial size kitchen and a long dining room, a huge den and several smaller offices, not to mention several outbuildings and a private airstrip. Each of those areas could be sealed off from the rest with a flip of a switch. Not exactly a great way to live, but necessary in their line of work.
And usually, CHAIM agents only came here for conferences and training sessions, or to be interrogated when an operation had gone wrong. Which it almost had tonight.
“I didn’t do my job tonight,” he said, whirling to stare at the three men who, although retired, were still listed as his immediate superiors in a crisis such as this. “I should have been more vigilant.”
“Warwick, we’ve gone over this,” Gerald said. “I was there in the room, too, son, and I never saw this coming.” His shrug said it all. “We checked everyone who entered that place, especially the hired help. I can’t figure how that man got past security with that gun.”
“That’s just it,” Shane said, logic coloring his words. “He didn’t. Someone had to give him the gun or put it where he could find it. Someone from the inside.”
“Well, thankfully we got the man alive. And you saved my daughter’s life,” Gerald replied.
“But I was assigned to watch her,” Shane said, looking down at his discarded, black bow tie, his mind whirling with images of people running and screaming and a lone gunman standing near an exit door, his sleek gun held with one hand just underneath the shield of his other raised arm. And aimed right toward Katherine Atkins.
“If that camera flash hadn’t gone off, she would have died right there beside me.”
“But that’s the fact, Warwick,” John said. “You were right there beside her and your quick actions saved her. And a lot more people, too.”
Gerald nodded, his fingers thumping on the table. “And that fancy stun gun you carry around put the shooter out cold. Fancy little gadget, that thing. Left a bullet hole in that man’s shoulder but kept him alive for questioning.”
Well, a Glock .357 with a suppressor wasn’t exactly a stun gun, but this was Texas after all. These men were better suited to rifles and shotguns, or maybe six-shooters.
Shane went back over the details. “It was chaos at first, but a lot of the guests did manage to get out of the room. The few who were left stayed behind tables and doors. Thank goodness we only had two wounded and no one dead.”
Yet he couldn’t get the memories of shattering glass and frightened screams out of his mind. Nor the image of Kit reaching up a hand to take his after he’d felled the crouching shooter, her eyes locking with his when he’d lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the room. He could still smell the scent of lilies on his clothes.
And he still had to wonder if the shooter, who’d also had a silencer on his gun, had been there alone. Or if this had been carefully planned by someone close to Katherine.
“The papers will be all over this tomorrow morning,” John warned. “But it can’t be helped. The official word will be that someone allegedly came into the room with a gun, but was apprehended and arrested on the scene. It’ll be listed as an attempted robbery due to the elite crowd, most of them wearing expensive baubles and carrying big wallets. We don’t want any more information than necessary leaking out, especially anything regarding Katherine being the target.”
“As far as I know, none of the people there are aware of that,” Shane said, not ready to voice what his instincts seemed to be shouting. “And frankly, gentlemen, I didn’t stick around to do damage control. My only intent once the shooter was secured was to get Katherine to a safe location.”
John Simpson glanced over at Gerald. “And we’ve put out the word that Katherine and you have been dating, so you’ve taken her to a secluded location to get over the shock of what happened. That way, the press can leave her alone. We hope. The official statement should be in the papers and on the news tomorrow.”
“That’s our best cover,” Shane agreed. And that’s exactly what he’d planned to insinuate to the public—that they were an item. Well, the best laid plans of mice and men…
“You did the right thing, bringing her here,” Gerald said. “You have my gratitude.”
“I’d like to check on her,” Shane said, wondering
