All I've Ever Wanted - Adrianne Byrd [34]
Keenan strode confidently along with the crowd. By now, C-note had done his job and his troubles were over.
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
Keenan reached inside his jacket.
“Unh-unh-unh,” a man warned from behind him.
At the unmistakable feel of a gun pressed against the center of his back, Keenan clenched his jaw. A cop.
The man’s free hand fumbled with Keenan’s jacket, before he found the removed the Glock that was the gang leader’s favorite weapon.
“I hope you didn’t think that you were going to get away with that little stunt you pulled back in there.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, officer,” Keenan said, his voice thick with sarcasm.
“I just bet you don’t.”
Keenan smiled, his old cockiness returned. “I hope you’re not going to try to pin that shooting in there on me.”
“Can’t see why not. You went to great pains to sneak a weapon onto the premises.”
“It hasn’t been discharged.”
There was a small pause as the cop checked out his claim.
“A small technicality. How many cronies do you have inside working for you?”
Keenan laughed. “You cops are all the same. You all want to be Dirty Harry or something. Can’t a man just come and enjoy a baseball game?”
The cop slapped the first circlet on Keenan’s left wrist, but, before his second wrist was secured, Keenan spun and kicked.
Dossman had no time to react when his own gun went flying into the air. He reached to retrieve Lawrence’s gun from inside his jacket, but his movement took too long and Keenan had already drawn his backup weapon.
The first bullet entered Dossman’s shoulder. Despite the intensity of the pain he was obviously feeling, the man still reached for the Glock.
Keenan fired again.
His target jerked into the air, then slammed against the pavement. He didn’t move again.
Chapter 16
Zone Five Precinct
Friday, 11:30 p.m.
Alone, Kennedy sat in a hard wooden chair in the interrogation room. She held a cup of hot coffee, halfway hoping that its warmth would penetrate her bones and stop her shivering.
She guessed that she’d been at the police station now for about an hour. Detective Collier hadn’t asked her too many questions. He seemed more concerned about her welfare and state of mind than anything else. But she knew the hard-hitting questions would come. She just didn’t know what she was going to tell him.
She sipped her coffee, but didn’t notice its taste. In her mind she remembered the awkward smile she shared with Tommy moments before all hell had broken loose. Had he entered the bathroom on his own, or had he been snatched from right under her nose?
Kennedy closed her eyes. She wanted to believe more than anything that Reverend Warner had him and they both were long gone by the time hell broke loose inside the stadium.
But what if he wasn’t?
Thoughts of the alternatives overwhelmed her. She set her cup down onto the table with more force than she intended, causing coffee to slosh over the rim and burn her hand.
“Damn.” She waved her hand back and mentally cursed her stupidity. What would she say when Collier eventually asked about her son? Did she dare to trust the police?
Glancing at her watch, she wondered how much longer she would have to remain cooped up in the small room. She was already beginning to feel as though the walls were closing in on her.
What if Keenan had her son? By choosing to keep her mouth shut, she might be endangering Tommy’s life.
With her head resting in the palms of her hands, she gripped chunks of her hair and actually considered pulling them out.
Just then, the door swung open with an intimidating whoosh. Kennedy stiffened and became instantly alert. Judging by the fierce, haggard look on Det. Collier’s face, she predicted the pity party was over.
“Let’s see if we can take this from the top,” he said, pulling the chair opposite her out. When he sat, his eyes took on an intensity she hadn’t witnessed before.
She forced herself to shrug. “I can’t think of anything to tell you that you don’t already