Brand Page 3

  “Wh-why do you think we need protecting?” Carly asked. “Do you think the gang will try to retaliate against me because I swung that bat at the shooter?”

  “We aren’t sure. But you did keep him from getting away with the other two.”

  “As we understand it, Simone, you had a gun pointed at you. That could have been random. But what if it wasn’t? Could there have been a reason this particular gang would target you?” Donovan asked.

  Simone’s bottom lip began to tremble. She shook her head and bit her lip.

  Donovan looked at Brand and they exchanged knowing looks. There was more there than she was willing to tell either of them at the moment.

  “Okay ladies. As promised you’ve answered our initial questions and we’re going to get you out of here for the night. Is there anything you’d like to know or do before we leave here?” Donovan asked.

  Carly nodded. “Our friend Colleen. She went to the ladies and we haven’t seen her since. No one will tell us anything. Can you find out what happened to her? Have they made her stay in there while they clear the crime scene out here like they’ve made us stay over here?”

  “Possible,” Donovan said. “But we’ll check that out and see what we can find out for sure.”

  “What’s her full name?” Brand asked.

  “Colleen Summers. Why?” Simone asked. “She’s not dead is she?”

  “No. Nothing to that extreme,” Donovan assured as Brand left to find Hawkeye.

  He spotted the Commander talking to one of the detectives on the case on the opposite side of the bar.

  “Everything okay?” Hawkeye asked.

  “Fine. We’re about to get the women out of here, but they are asking about their friend who was in the ladies room. Her name is Colleen Summers. I thought you’d want that information to the hospital if her purse went missing in the attack.”

  “Thanks. It was. You didn’t tell them anything did you?”

  “No. Donovan told them we’d investigate to see what we could learn. Any update on her condition yet?”

  “Too soon.”

  “Can I at least tell them their friend is at the hospital getting checked out?”

  Hawkeye thought for a moment. “The EMT was here checking them over so the bus was here, yea, that should be okay. But that we have no other info on why now.”

  “Gottcha. I assume we have use of the SUV cruisers?”

  Hawkeye nodded. “Each driver is ready when you are. I got the women’s addresses and your numbers so I will know how to reach you.”

  Brand walked back across the bar to where Donovan and the women waited. Both Carly and Simone stood as soon as they saw him.

  “What did you learn?”

  “Where is Colleen?” Their questions came at once.

  “I found out that the bus that treated the patrons here tonight took your friend to Chicago Medical Center. She’s alive.”

  The two hugged each other.

  When they pulled apart, they looked at one another, and said in unison. “Jules.”

  “She’s outside. Or she was when we arrived,” Donovan said. “She was trying to get in here, but the detective wouldn’t let her because it was a crime scene.”

  “Then we need to go outside and talk to her. Let her know we’re okay,” Simone said, grabbing her purse off the table. “You want to protect me, Mr. Donovan, then let’s get a move on. I want to see Jules.”

  “She may not be there anymore. She's a witness and needed protecting too. One of our guys is with her. He may have already taken her home.”

  “One of your guys is with Jules? Why?” Carly asked, stepping toward Brand.

  “She saw the getaway car. She heard the gunshots on her way to the “L” and came back to the bar.”

  “So now she is in danger too?” Carly asked.

  Brand nodded.

  “What a night.”

  Chapter 3

  “You’ll have to forgive me for the smallness of my apartment. It’s all I could afford after my divorce.” Carly let Brand into her apartment. “If you want, I can give you the bedroom and take the sofa sleeper.”

  “I don’t want to take your bed. The sofa sleeper is fine. I’m ex-military. I can sleep in pretty bad conditions.”

  “If you’re sure?” she asked.

  Brand nodded.

  She showed him around the tiny apartment that reminded him of his private dorm room in college. He'd lucked up getting assigned to that renovated building instead of crammed into a room with three other roommates.

  Carly fluttered from room to room showing him the place. When she gave him an extra blanket and pillow, he noticed that her legs had been bleeding.

  “What happened to your legs?”

  “Oh that. The EMTs checked me out and cleaned me up. It’s where I crawled to Phil and the broken glass cut me. I was lucky none of the pieces got embedded in my flesh.”

  “Yeah, you were.”

  “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. If you want something I don’t have, we can get it tomorrow. Exactly how long do you think you’ll be staying here?”

  “I’m not sure. Until I’m told otherwise.”

  She nodded and chewed on her bottom lip, staring at him for a long moment, then she blinked and shook her head. “If you don’t need anything else, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Thanks. See you.”

  The door to the bedroom closed and Brand heard the door lock as he settled on the sofa to unwind. He grinned. Smart woman. Not that she had anything to worry about with him, but she didn’t know that.

  He was also glad she hadn’t made a fuss about him taking her room. Sleeping out here allowed him to be near the front door if anyone tried to break in. He’d kept a watch as the SUV cruiser made its way through the semi-deserted streets to her apartment. When they arrived, he noticed a car parked across the street with a man inside snapping photos. Someone was watching her. Whether a local newspaper was already on the shooting tonight or something else. He couldn’t be sure until he learned more about Carly Manning.

  He waited until he was certain she’d gone to bed and was asleep before he took out his laptop. He set up a secured Wi-Fi portal through his encrypted cellphone and ran a background check on her. Within seconds he’d tapped into DMV records. He learned she’d recently changed her name from Porter back to her maiden name of Manning. He did a quick search of court records and learned her ex-husband was attorney Justin Porter. He tapped bank account records and saw that Carly had no money. Yet Justin had plenty and according to the divorce decree paid Carly no alimony. That was wrong.

  Brand searched through the document again. Carly had claimed domestic abuse, but the judge had ruled it unfounded. There had been no corroborating arrests or judgments against Porter. No wonder Carly had locked the bedroom door. It explained why she’d been overprotective of the bartender because of his kindness. It was making more sense to Brand now.

  He backed out of the records, made sure to leave no trace that he’d ever been there, and shut down his programs. As he did, a thought ran across his mind about the man watching downstairs. What if he wasn’t related to the case tonight, but was a hired man for the ex-husband who still couldn’t let go of Carly. If so, this could be an added complication to keeping her safe.

  He put away his laptop and his equipment before unfolding the sofa bed. He double checked the lock on the door, and then he grabbed his toothbrush from his overnight bag. Heading to the bathroom, he had to find out all he could from Carly about Porter without alarming her. He'd even enlist the help of Donovan to get information about her from her friend Simone and report back to him.

  Carly tossed and turned. The man waved the gun toward her and Simone before the man beside him fired. She screamed. The bullet moved in slow motion, hitting Phil square in the chest. He flew back against the mirrored liquor display. Shards of pebbled mirrored glass showered on her, Simone, and the gunmen, causing a blood bath. It was a horrific sight and she coul
d taste the metallic tang of blood on her tongue.

  Pounding on her door woke her and she sat up, tangled in her damp sheets, chilled to the bone.

  “Carly. Carly are you okay?” An unfamiliar man’s voice rattled her already frazzled nerves. For a moment she couldn't recall where she was or why there was a man in her apartment calling her name.

  The taste of blood mingled with saliva almost made her gag as she remembered the events from last night and how she’d ended up bringing a stranger home with her. But not for the hot-to-trot one-night stand as intended by her friends. She rubbed her hand over her mouth and her lip stung from the contact, telling her she’d somehow bitten it in her sleep. The residue of blood on her hand, as well as the taste, made it clear she’d broken the skin.

  Another knock came. “Carly, are you all right?”

  Brand.

  “Yes. Bad dream.” She rubbed her hand on her sheet, then wiped the sleep from her eyes before she scrambled from the bed. She smoothed her hair away from her face and went to unlock her door. She only opened it a fraction so that she could peep out at him.

  “Let me in. I need to check your room.”

  “No. I had a bad dream. That’s all. I was reliving the nightmare of the shooting at the bar. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “That may be true, but I still need to make sure no one broke through the window and is holding you at gun or knife point, forcing you to lie to me.”

  “I’m telling you the truth.”

  “I get that. Just let me in and then you can go back to bed.”

  “Seriously, I’m fine. Now go away.”

  “Then why is your lip bleeding?”

  “I bit it in my sleep when I was dreaming.”

  “You need to put some ice on it.”

  “Duly noted.”

  “Now back away. I’m coming in.”

  She huffed, moving to the side so he could come in. He was barefoot but already wearing his tactical gear and had his gun drawn as he moved into the room checking it. She waited while he opened her closet, and then went into the bathroom. When he came out, he double checked the window. She burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You. Mr. Macho with the gun this morning.”

  “I’m doing my job.” He put the gun in its shoulder holster.

  “Protecting me from imaginary monsters?”

  “Protecting you at all costs.”

  “From imaginary threats.”

  “It might not always be imaginary.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “One morning you might wake up screaming because someone has really broken in that window, holding you captive. Then what? Wouldn’t you want me breaking in that door and saving you from harm?”

  Carly swallowed her mirth. “When you put it that way, yes.”

  “Did you know there is a man sitting in a car downstairs watching this building? He was there last night when we came in. He’s still there this morning. I’d say he’s been out there for some time watching your every move. Why don’t you tell me about your ex-husband Justin Porter?”

  “Wh-wh…how do you know his name?”

  “I have my sources. I also know you got shafted in your divorce. That’s why you’re living in this respectable hole in the wall, but there’s nothing to be ashamed of there. I get it. You wanted out and you didn’t want anything that belonged to the bastard. But he may not be through with you if my hunch is right. So you see, I do have cause to check for ‘imaginary threats’.”

  Carly wilted back against the wall. She licked her lips, getting a taste of blood again, and her legs began to collapse under her. She’d thought she’d been smart moving to this part of town, far enough away from Justin’s reach.

  Brand was there catching her before she hit the floor. He scooped her and carried her to the bed where he set her down. But instead of holding her, or trying to comfort her, he knelt in front of her, respecting her personal space.

  The refusal of contact jolted her and it made her feel raw and rejected at the same time. The rational part of her brain was telling her this wasn’t the reaction she should be having. He’d just told her there was a man outside that had been watching her. Likely had been watching her ever since she’d moved into her apartment. She’d thought when she divorced Justin Porter she’d cut all ties with him, but that wasn’t the case.

  “I didn’t mean to alarm you. I wasn’t going to tell you at all for that very reason, but it's clear you needed to know there's danger lurking outside.”

  “No. You should have told me. I-I’m glad you did. It was foolish for me to think that I could walk away without Justin Porter trying to keep some control over me. What can I do to stop him?”

  “Unless he makes a threatening move against you, we can’t get a restraining order against him. Nor can we make the man he’s hired stop following you unless he does something illegal. I’m sure the man is a private investigator who knows the ins and outs of the legal system. He’ll stay well within the borders of the law to protect himself.”

  “Then how do we stop him?”

  “By staying alert at all times. You can’t let your guard down.”

  A prisoner in her own home again.

  Carly raked her fingers through her sleep tasseled hair and realized she must look a fright. But who cared? Brand was the one who’d barged into her bedroom to check it out because she’d had a bad dream.

  “I-I think I want to be alone. I need to process this information. Help yourself to whatever food you can find in the kitchen.”

  He stood. “You aren’t alone in this, Carly. I’m here with you. I’m here to protect you. Justin will not win. No matter what he tries.”

  “You don’t know Justin Porter.”

  Brand went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. While it brewed, he searched for a Styrofoam cup and lid that Carly might have saved from a take-out order. He looked through all the cabinets before hitting pay dirt. Filling the cup with fresh brewed black, he headed downstairs to pay mister surveillance guy a visit.

  It was clear as Brand crossed the street that the man was sleeping in his car. But who could blame him? It wasn’t even six thirty on a Saturday morning. A few taps on the window startled the man awake and he jumped, alarm written all over his unshaven face. He started the car and rolled down the electric window.

  “Can I help you, officer?”

  “I’m not the police, but if I were I’d have you hauled in for stalking. Here’s a cup of coffee. You look like you could use one. Tell Justin Porter to leave Carly alone.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you don’t. You’re cover is blown, pal. I know you’re here. She knows you’re here. So take off before I call the cops on you.”

  “You have no grounds.”

  “No? Looks to me like you’re living in your car. That’s an offense in itself.”

  “You can’t prove it.”

  “Empty food containers littering the car. The back seat looks like it’s your dirty laundry hamper. When’s the last time you showered? You were sleeping when I walked over here. I got it all on my cell.” Brand held his phone for him to see. “So what is it going to be? Are you going to drive away or am I going to make a phone call to my buddy at Chicago PD?”

  Without waiting for the man to answer, he dialed Hawkeye’s personal line and stepped to the front of the car to get the license plate number.

  “Burns here.”

  “It’s Brand. Can you run a plate for me?”

  “What? Do you think I’m your personal errand boy now?” Hawkeye chuckled.

  “Humor me. I got a car parked outside Carly’s apartment building. It was here last night and again this morning. The guy won’t leave. I think her ex-husband is having her watched.”

  The man in the car backed up and swerved around Brand to leave the area.

  Brand moved out of the street and onto the sidewalk.

  “What’s the plate?”
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  “FXJ 7854.”

  “Simon Ragsdale. Private Investigator. A former detective in the south side.”

  “You got all that from the plate?”

  “No. I know the man. He doesn’t come cheap either. Who is Carly’s ex-husband?”

  “Attorney Justin Porter.”

  Hawkeye whistled. “Now I get the connection between Ragsdale and Porter.”

  “Let me guess, you know Porter too?”

  “I’ve heard of him. Comes from money. Country club type. Chicago elite family. Makes you wonder what his ex-wife was doing down on the waterfront at the Pied Piper last night.”

  “Celebrating getting away from him. I ran a background check on her and learned she’s newly divorced.”

  “Maybe so, but the Pied Piper is a far cry down from the country club scene.”

  “Did you see how she was dressed, Hawk? Leather jacket, a tank that barely covered her midriff, and short shorts? Not to mention those studded ankle boots. This woman was on the prowl last night.”

  “No, I didn’t notice. I had other important matters on my mind than what the woman you are protecting was wearing. Are you worried you’re in danger being so close to this woman? Afraid she might wrap you around her little finger if she bats her baby blues too many times?”

  Brand grunted, then walked to the corner and crossed at the signal. “Me worried? Not on your life. I can handle her.”

  “Good. Glad to hear it.”

  “Besides, if you weren’t looking, how’d you know she has blue eyes?”

  “I didn’t. It was a guess.”

  There was a pause on the line as Brand tried to regain face.

  “Anything you want me to convey to the guys today? I’ll be checking in with them later.”

  “We haven’t located the other two gang members. Patrol units are still on the lookout for the make and model of the car that Jules Gentry spotted. The shooter was released from the hospital but will remain in police custody until he’s arraigned Monday.”

  “Any word on Colleen?” Brand asked.