"Why would Solomon send you a million bucks?" asked Garrett. He gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead as we made our way out of the parking lot. He did a good job of looking like he was concentrating but I was pretty sure his mind was running at a million miles an hour. Mine was still stuck at a million dollars.
"I have no idea." I held the check up, examining every part of it. The date was for today and the signature was definitely his. I figured Thomas Gort must have added the date but I could only wonder what could have spooked Solomon so much a year ago that he felt compelled to write a letter and deposit a signed check with his lawyer? I was positive he never mentioned anything to me. Not then, and never in the intervening months.
"This could have something to do with what happened last night," said Garrett.
"You think he knew someone wanted to kill him?"
"Solomon must’ve thought so."
"I wish I knew what he was talking about."
Garrett darted a glance at me. "He never mentioned who his enemies were?"
"No."
"Is it work-related or personal?"
"I don't know."
"Is it an old threat or a new one?"
"I don't know."
"Could it..."
"I don't know, okay!?" I snapped. "I don't know what Solomon was thinking when he wrote that. I don't know what threats might have plagued him. I don't know if he saw someone or heard something or received something recently that spooked him. I don't know anything!"
Garrett didn't say anything. Instead, he nudged the blinker and we turned the corner. We continued moving through traffic and I stared aimlessly at the other drivers and passengers in the morning rush hour, wondering how bland their lives could be right now, and how much I wished I was living one of them. If I hadn't been in the situation I was in, I'd probably have been arriving at the agency around now, ready to dive into the mounds of paperwork. I might have picked up a bridal magazine during my lunch break or called Lily. Everything would have been so comfortably normal.
"You'll need to tell the police," said Garrett finally.
"I am telling the police," I pointed out. "I'm telling you."
"Do yourself a favor, go cash that check before you tell the detectives assigned to the case. You might need it, you know."
"You mean, you're not on the case?"
"I'm overseeing the detectives on it. I'm your brother. I can't handle it all of it directly."
"Good. I think."
"We're here," he said, turning onto my street. "I have to escort you inside and then you can pick up whatever you need. After that, I can take you back to the hospital, or help you take your stuff over to Mom and Dad's. Wherever you want to go."
"Why would I go to Mom and Dad's?"
"Don't you want to stay with them?"
"I guess I really didn't think about it. The hospital said I could stay there. Can't I just stay at home?" I asked, wondering if there was something Garret had yet to tell me.
"You can but I didn't think you'd want to." He pulled up outside and raised a hand to the police officer stationed at the door. Yellow crime scene tape fluttered across the entry. If it weren't for that, it would have looked like any other house on the street, elegant and quiet.
"Did the crime scene techs get anything?" I asked. I watched the crime scene tape fluttering and didn't make any move to get out. I needed a few minutes to steel my nerves before I could walk up the steps and cross the threshold.
"They dusted the door frame, doorbell, and the door for prints and swabbed everything for traces of fibers but I doubt we'll find any. A professional would have worn gloves. They looked for footprints too but it was a dry day and many other feet hit the stoop last night so there was nothing gathered from there."
"Do you have anything?" I asked.
"Several of your neighbors have security cameras and our tech guys are looking through the recorded footage. We'll run any vehicle we can identify against traffic cam footage in the area. Sis, it would help if you could..."
"I didn't see anything, except a motorcycle that sped past, and I don't even know if that had anything to do with the shooting."
"You told the detectives yesterday that you thought it was blue. Do you remember anything else about it? Was it parked on the street when you got home? Do you remember the model by any chance?"
"I don't remember if it was here because I wasn't looking for it. I was just happy to get home. I remember it was big, bigger than one of those narrow bikes that people usually ride on dirt tracks but I don't remember anything else."
"How many riders?"
"One, I think. Did you get anything from the ballistics report?" I asked.
"I picked up the recovered bullets from the surgeons and took them into MPD myself. They're being run today."
"Will you tell me as soon as you get something new?"
"Yes, but anything I tell you is strictly off the record, okay?"
"Okay," I agreed. Who was I going to tell anyway?
"Let's go inside and get your stuff. Do you know what you want?"
"I have no idea." I got out, slightly guilty for my short, snappy answers. My brother was only trying to help but my frustration wasn’t just because there was so little I could tell him, it was also because I was so confused. Not only that, but hurt too. Knowing that Solomon was compelled to hide something as big as a threat on his life really hurt me. If I'd known about it before, I could have been more alert. I could have been more watchful and I wouldn't have a check for a million dollars heating up my pocket like a burning ember. No, I'd been plunged straight into this nightmare without any warning. I didn't even know what kind of a nightmare it was: an assault gone wrong or a botched-up hit.
I did know one thing. I needed answers and as much as my brother was willing to help, I had a whole private investigation agency just waiting at my disposal. If anyone could detect anything, it had to be them. Some of my colleagues had known Solomon for years, long before I met him. He might have shared something personal with them that he didn't share with me.
We walked past the police officer stationed outside and Garrett unlocked the door before we stepped into the quiet house. The size never bothered me before but now it felt cavernous. Everything inside was so still. No one set the alarm code. Solomon's boots were outside the coat closet where he kicked them off last night. My shoes were right next to them. His phone, keys and wallet were on the console with a small collection of coins like he was about to walk in and scoop them up.
I gulped. I didn't know when that would be.
I stepped forwards, looking into the living room. The dinner things were exactly where I left them on the coffee table. I walked in and grabbed them, noisily stacking everything together before taking them into the kitchen and putting them away. Garrett followed me. I stomped out again with Garrett behind me.
"Are you going to follow me everywhere I go?" I asked.
"Kinda, yeah."
Something in his voice made me stop. "You think someone is going to come after me," I said as a statement, not a question.
"It crossed my mind that Solomon might not have been the true target."
"That doesn't make any sense. If I were the intended target, they could have easily shot him, then come into the house and shot me too. Or shot me when I came to the door. Or if they were waiting for both of us to get home, they could have shot me in the street."
"All very good points."
"So you can stop worrying about me."
"No can do. What if they expected you to come to the door, and shot him by accident?"
"There're more than two rounds in a gun. They still could have shot me."
"Maybe. Maybe not. There're other possibilities we have to consider."
"Do you think someone might come after me because of him?"
"Also a possibility. It would help if I knew if Solomon were the intended target and why someone wanted to kill him."
"I still have no clue," I said.
"But you'll certainly tell me if you think of one?" Garrett caught me by the arm. "I know it's crossed your mind to investigate this on your own but this is not a case for the agency or for you. You're way too close. Plus, I have Mom calling me every thirty minutes for an update and Dad has already mentioned coming out of retirement. That means, I'm going to have a helluva time just fielding you all while trying to kickstart this investigation."
I hugged him. "Just find out who did this," I said before I went upstairs with Garrett several steps behind me.
The stillness in the house persisted upstairs. I headed directly for our bedroom, leaving Garrett to linger on the landing. I grabbed a bag from my closet and set about adding a couple of clothing changes and a purse. One of Solomon's sweaters was folded on the console. I picked it up, holding it up to my nose, and inhaling the delicious scent of him. I stuffed the sweater into my bag and tried not to think about how alone I felt without him there.
In the bathroom, I packed a bag of essentials and things Solomon would need and want when he woke up. Then I stepped back into the bedroom and looked around, wondering what else I might need.
There was one thing I wanted. Even though I dismissed Garrett's threat, I had to admit there might be a chance that someone could come after me. I'd already considered the possibility of someone pursuing Solomon again but with a police guard, not to mention my mom, he was pretty safe for now. Me? Not so much. I wanted my gun.
I smiled at Garrett as I moved onto the landing and gave him what I hoped was a grateful pat on the arm. Before I went downstairs, I ducked into the guest room Solomon set up as an office. The computers in there couldn't be moved but I could take the laptop. I didn't know his password but if I couldn't crack it, I knew Lucas could. If there were any kind of threat, there had to be some kind of evidence of it in his emails or files. I added the laptop to my bag and Garrett reached for it, carrying it downstairs and setting it by the door.
"Need anything else?" he asked.
"Just a couple things from the kitchen."
"Anything you want me to carry?"
"No, but thanks anyway." I hurried away before Garrett could follow me and headed into the kitchen. When I was sure Garrett hadn't followed me, I silently popped the panel that was cleverly disguised as one of the cabinets. It slid back and I punched in the code for the safe, easing the door open. Solomon's gun was inside, along with the holster he sometimes used. My gun was in there too. I shrugged off my hoody, slipped on my shoulder holster and pushed my arms back into the sleeves. I loaded my gun, put it into my holster and re-zipped my hoody. After pushing the safe door closed again, I replaced the panel. Grabbing two bottles of water from the refrigerator, I took them out to Garrett, handing him one.
"Back to the hospital? Or do you want me to take you over to Mom and Dad's?"
"Hospital, but I need to swing by the office first," I said, checking my watch. We'd already been gone too long.
"Let's go." He picked up my bag and reached for the door. I grabbed Solomon's phone and keys from the console, sliding it into my pocket along with my purse that I dropped yesterday. I set the alarm code and followed him out, closing and locking the door behind me. The image of Solomon slumped in the doorway lurched into my brain and I hurried down the steps, climbing into Garrett's car as fast as I could.
"I don't know what to tell everyone," I said as we drove.
"About Solomon? Who do you mean by everyone?"
"Everyone at the agency."
"A few of your buddies came by the hospital last night. Fletcher, Flaherty, Lucas, and a couple others. I figure Delgado filled them in so you don't have to worry about that. We'll need to speak with everyone, of course."
"I'll make sure everyone knows."
"You don't have to get involved in this. I’m sure Delgado can set everything up."
"I know he can, but they know me."
"They know me too!"
"It's not the same. I'm on their team. Turn here. We can park in the underground parking lot."
Garrett parked in my space, next to Solomon's empty one. Most of the lot was full, although a couple of the cars were beaten up "pool cars" as Solomon referred to them. No one wanted to drive them but they were useful for surveillance when an unnoticeable car was required. So far, I hadn't any need for one. My VW was about as anonymous as they came, allowing me to blend in easily whether I was following a suspect or parked for surveillance. The VW was also outside our home, near Solomon's Lexus, which was probably just as well. I clasped my hands together to stop them shaking. I didn't trust myself to drive anywhere.
On the way up, I called my mother for an update on Solomon's condition, holding my breath until she gave me the answer of, "No change."
"Did you get everything you needed?" Mom asked.
"Yes, and I'm stopping by the agency to brief everyone there. I'll return soon. Are Dad and Anastasia back yet?"
"Not yet. Dad just got to the airport and says they'll be here as fast as they can."
"Did the doctor run more tests?"
"Yes, but there wasn't anything he could tell me apart from ‘all stable’."
"Did he seem worried?"
"Not at all. We've already arranged a schedule for the whole family to look after Solomon; so anytime you need to step out, we have him covered."
"Thank you," I said, wondering exactly how many times I must have said that in the last twenty-four hours.
"Nothing to thank us for. This is what we do for family," said Mom.
"Call me if anything changes," I said and hung up.
Delgado, Steve Fletcher and Matt Flaherty were all in the office when I walked in. Delgado saw me first and jumped to his feet, rushing to my side. "Is he okay?" he eagerly wanted to know.
"He's still unconscious but stable," I said.
"Did they catch the guy?" asked Fletcher.
"No. Not yet anyway. Garrett is overseeing the case," I said, nodding to my brother.
"What can we do?" asked Flaherty. "That's all anyone wants to know."
"Garrett says he needs to interview everyone. Can you set that up?" I asked no one in particular.
Delgado nodded. "I'll run point. Leave it to me. What else?"
"Do any of you know if there were any threats made against Solomon? Anything at all?"
"He never mentioned anything to me," said Fletcher. "You guys?" Both Delgado and Flaherty shook their heads, tacitly claiming not to have heard anything.
"No one came to the agency who was ticked off? No disgruntled clients?" asked Garrett.
"We get the occasional client that doesn't like what we find but none have ever threatened us with any harm," said Flaherty. "Plus, Solomon has been doing less PI work and leaning more toward the risk division. Even so, we're hired to help our clients. So we're not in a habit of pissing them off."
"What was Solomon working on?" asked Garrett.
I knew that. Solomon told me. "He was involved with a bank," I said. "The manager was paranoid that the bank was about to be hit."
"Yeah," said Fletcher, nodding. "I'm still working undercover there to see if there's any truth in it."
"Is there?" asked Garrett.
"So far, no," said Fletcher. “The manager appears to be one hundred percent paranoid.”
"I'll pass that on to the detectives. They'll need to speak to everyone in this risk division of yours too," said Garrett. "You mind if I send someone over to get started?"
"Make the call," said Delgado.
Garrett nodded and pulled his phone from his jeans pocket, stepping outside.
"Anything you don't want to tell him?" I asked once he was out of earshot.
"Nothing," said Delgado. His face was stony, but etched with concern. "We've been talking and I gotta admit, I'm pretty confused. Solomon would have mentioned any feasible threat on his life but he never said a word."
"Maybe there really wasn't any threat," said Fletcher.
"This could be an old grudge," added Flaherty.
"Are there many old grudges?" I asked.
"A few," Delgado admitted. "Solomon's had a long career, and he’s put a lot of bad guys out of business. It's not inconceivable that someone patiently waited him out all this time until they could get to him."
"What if that old grudge couldn't enact revenge before now?" I asked, Delgado's comment sparking an idea.
"You mean, like if they were in prison?" asked Fletcher.
"Exactly."
"I can start working on some names," he said, and both Delgado and Flaherty agreed they would too.
"Names, as in plural?" I wondered.
"It's been a long time," said Delgado. "We've all made some enemies. You, too, no doubt."
"Tell me about it." I counted off all the bad guys whose plans I'd foiled so far and gave up at a dozen. That wasn't including all the people I'd inadvertently crossed in my personal life. Names that would appear on the latter list would include my criminal ex-fiancé, Anthony Simon Steadman, or, as I like to call him, ASS for short, along with several mean girls from high school, and more than a few colleagues during my temping contracts. If I'd bothered that many people, how many had Solomon affected negatively in his much longer, more diverse, career?
"Where are we with cases?" I asked. "Solomon mentioned there were some new ones on the table."
"We're all waiting for new assignments," said Fletcher, "but I'm not sure I want to take on something right now."
"Shelve them all," I decided, darting a glance toward the door. Garrett would be back any minute. "Recommend a competitor if it's urgent or refer them to the police. I need everybody’s help."
"You got it. Where do we start?"
"First thing, I want Solomon under guard at all times. MPD posted a uniform at his room but that officer will be no match if Solomon has a hit man after him. If we split the time up between us, we can each rotate in six-hour shifts."
The three men looked at each other, nodding. "Consider it done," said Delgado.
"I want to know everything that the police find out," I said, thinking harder now. "I trust my brother and all but until we know exactly what's going on, Solomon is our case. We're the people closest to him. We've got to figure this out."
"Agreed," said Fletcher.
"And I want to speak to the whole agency. Is everyone upstairs?"
"I took the liberty of calling everyone in for a meeting. They're assembled upstairs now," said Delgado. "And waiting for an update."
"Let's go speak to them."
We all barreled towards the door, almost colliding with Garrett as he returned. "Where's the fire?" he asked.
"We're heading upstairs. I want to brief the rest of the agency on MPD's visit," I said.
"All of you?"
"We're Lexi's protection now," said Flaherty. "Where she goes, we go, except when we don't need to."
Garrett frowned, trying to get his head around what I figured was a purposefully confusing comment. "Let's go," he said, stepping out of the way.
When we got upstairs, I turned, putting a hand up. "You can't come into this area," I told Garrett. "Solomon restricted it to employees only."
"I have a badge. I can go wherever I like."
"Just give me a minute, okay? There's usually a lot of need-to-know work going on in here and don’t forget: our clients value their privacy greatly."
"More than their boss's welfare?" Garrett asked.
I drew in a deep breath. "They'll respect agency policy whether he's here or not, because that's what he demands of them," I said. "I'll be a few minutes and I'll make sure everyone is available for interviewing and I’ll also insist that they hand over any pertinent information."
"So long as it doesn't compromise client privacy," said Delgado. "That is still important."
"Go ahead," said Garrett.
I punched the access code into the keypad and the four of us stepped through, closing the door and leaving Garrett alone on the empty landing.
Delgado put his fingers to his lips and let out a piercing whistle that stopped all the chatter and typing, turning all heads towards us. I took a deep breath, unprepared for the undivided attention.
"You all heard what happened last night," I started, addressing the assembled employees of PIs, security consultants, ex-cops, and who knows what else Solomon employed. "Solomon is out of surgery but he’s not out of danger yet. The crucial thing now is to find the person who did this."
"What do you want us to do?" asked Lucas loudly, crossing the floor to us.
"Stop everything you're doing. MPD are on their way to interview everyone and I expect your full cooperation. If you're not sure if you can say something, check with me first, or Delgado, or Fletcher or Flaherty. If you have any idea about someone who wanted to harm Solomon, I want you to tell them who it is. Then, I want you to tell me. I want to know every single detail that the police know, preferably before they know it. Drop everything you're working on that isn't essential right now. Your only case for the time being is Solomon." I looked around, making eye contact with every person in the room, hoping they comprehended the importance of what I was asking them. "To start with, I need every single one of you to tell me how you got to know Solomon and who might want him dead."