Autumn expected him to lie, but he didn’t, well, not really. While she stiffened with the shock of Raith calling her his girlfriend, Kamira eyed them both before saying, “My brother is dead.”

  “We’re aware of that. We still think you may be able to help us.”

  “What associate are you looking for?”

  “That’s part of the problem. We don’t have a name.”

  After several long seconds of contemplation, she said, “I don’t have anything to do with his trouble. I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” She was about to close the door, when Raith put his hand on it and stopped her.

  “We’re aware that your brother was a contract killer,” Raith announced.

  Autumn wondered how that would make her more comfortable. Would she protect him?

  “Why are you looking for this associate?” Kamira asked. “Are you cops?”

  “No. We’re helping the man who was almost killed. We’re looking for the person who hired him.”

  Kamira blinked a few times as though the subject of her brother upset her, and not only because he was dead. What other associate could there be than someone who’d contracted for his services? Her disappointment was evident. Much of her grief must center around her brother’s poor choices.

  “Please. We just have a few questions,” Raith said.

  “I don’t see what good that will do if he’s dead.”

  “We’re talking to everyone who knew him.”

  She hesitated but seemed to consider relenting. “Did my brother shoot someone?”

  “He made an attempt and missed.”

  “He missed?”

  “Yes, fortunately.”

  Kamira contemplated them a moment more. Then, rather than invite them inside, she stepped out onto the concrete sidewalk in front of her door.

  “What do you need to know?”

  “When was the last time you saw him?” Raith asked.

  “About two months ago.”

  Fairly recent. “Were the two of you close?” Autumn asked.

  Kamira shrugged. “We had each other growing up. Messed-up parents, you know?” She reached into the pocket of the button-up shirt she wore and took out a pack of cigarettes. After lighting one and taking a puff, she blew out a stream of smoke and said, “He wasn’t the type to make it home for the holidays, and I don’t think he ever saw any women long-term. He traveled a lot. Hardly ever home, but when he was, he came here for visits regularly. He spent time with his best friend, too.”

  Autumn was amazed at how freely Kamira spoke. She didn’t condone her brother’s lifestyle, but she must have loved him despite all of that.

  “Who is that?” Raith asked.

  “Garvin Reeves. He runs a gun shop and shooting range here. They’ve been friends for years. Met in school. Leaman was always so reclusive. A loner. And he was always getting arrested when he was younger. Garvin looked up to him.”

  That didn’t say much for Garvin’s character if he looked up to someone like that.

  “What about when he was an adult?” Raith asked.

  Kamira shrugged again, taking another drag off her cigarette. “He stopped getting arrested. I think he got good at skirting the law. He never talked about what he did and I didn’t ask about it. I never liked his obsession with guns. He got that from Garvin. I suspected he was into some pretty serious crime and always thought it would be only a matter of time before the law caught up to him.” She eyed them both as she took another drag. “Sorry, I’m afraid I can’t help you much.”

  “Why didn’t you talk about what he did for a living?” Autumn asked.

  “It disturbed me. I worried about him. I didn’t need to worry more with more details. He was a criminal. I guess I expected to lose him eventually. Having some distance from him helped his death be a little more bearable.” She looked across the parking lot again. “I often wonder if he hadn’t been bullied as a kid if he’d have ended up where he did. If he hadn’t been bullied, I doubt he’d have gone into the military. He was always into science and math. Maybe he’d have gone to college to be an engineer or something. Something different.”

  “We’re very sorry for your loss,” Autumn said.

  Turning to her, Kamira continued with her ruminating. “Leaman was a good person. Few people had the privilege of seeing that. He just had bad parents and a hard time in school socially. Some people can’t overcome. He was one of them. His way of coping was rebelling.”

  Kamira knew him the way no one else had. She knew the boy. But perhaps she only thought she knew the man. A killer.

  “What happened to your parents?” Raith asked.

  Waving her hand, Kamira fanned out the trail of smoke from her cigarette. “Who the hell knows. My dad was a drunk and left when I was five and my mom was a crackhead. She’s probably dead by now. They both probably are. Who cares?”

  “Do you have any kids?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not married.”

  “Were you ever married?”

  “No. Are you investigating me, too?” She sucked on her cigarette.

  Raith smiled and Autumn wondered if that was strategic to make her relax. “No.”

  He was only trying to find out if there was anyone else he could talk to.

  “You said Leaman got into guns because of Garvin,” Raith said.

  She raised her eyes in annoyance. “Yeah. He and Garvin got into trouble together when they were kids. Then Garvin started making a living selling guns.”

  “Illegally?”

  She nodded. “Not one hundred percent. More on the side and through his gun shop. Garvin’s not a guy to piss off.”

  “He’s got some impressive clientele?” Raith continued with his line of questioning.

  “I never ask. Like I said before, Leaman and I didn’t discuss his business. But he did once say he got a lot of his business through Garvin.” Kamira didn’t seem happy about that. “At least in the beginning.”

  “And then Leaman earned a reputation,” Raith said.

  She nodded again. “He started to make a lot of money. I mean, a lot. As in hundreds of thousands per job. He sent me money every month. Things are going to get harder for me now. He never came out and said he killed people. But once he did say that rich people hired him to take care of their problems.”

  And she’d translated that correctly by guessing that meant he was hired to kill.

  “Do you know who killed him?” Kamira asked.

  “No,” Raith said. “He was good at hiding. He knew someone was after him. He said something went wrong during his last job.” She got that faraway look again. “Whoever killed him must be somebody as dangerous as him.”

  Autumn glanced over at Raith. That someone was him. Assassin. Killer. Was that really what Raith was all about? She sensed not and that didn’t settle well with her.

  “I would imagine.” Raith put his hand on Autumn’s arm, indicating it was time for them to go. “Thanks for talking to us.”

  “Just as dangerous, huh?” Autumn said when they reached the parking lot.

  He said nothing, only seemed to try to determine the source of her disgruntlement. Or maybe he already knew and couldn’t reassure her.

  * * *

  Raith drove with Autumn to Garvin Reeves’s gun shop and shooting range. Inside the flat-roofed, single-story warehouse, the front was partitioned off and filled with glass gun cases that ran along three sides and one down the middle. A double door in the back must lead to the shooting range. Posters advertising ammunition and the latest rifles on the market hung on the walls. Two windows in front and one on the side had old, cheap white blinds that were kept shut but allowed light in through broken panels.

  A clerk helped a customer to their right. Another saw them from where he stood in the back near the doors.

  “Can I help you?” that clerk asked, putting his hands on the edge of the counter. A skinny man and not very tall, he had dark circles under his brown eyes and chapped lips.

  Raith walked toward the man, Autumn following. “We’re looking for Garvin Reeves. Is he here?”

  “Who’s asking?” The clerk pushed off the counter.

  Raith caught the clerk’s guardedness. Garvin’s workers were trained to be on the lookout for cops.

  “Raith De Matteis. This is my girlfriend, Autumn.”

  Autumn turned to look at him. This was the second time he’d introduced her as his girlfriend. Did she like playing the role of his girlfriend or did it offend her?

  “Wait here.” The clerk disappeared through a door. The sound of gunshots grew louder until the door swung shut again.

  Autumn leaned closer to Raith and whispered, “Why aren’t we using false names?”

  “We don’t need to,” he whispered back.

  “Why not?”

  “It doesn’t matter if these people know who we are.”

  Before she could ask why, a man emerged from the back. Close to six feet tall, Garvin was more muscular than the clerk and had almond-shaped blue eyes that leveled on him, hard and shrewd.

  “Mr. De Matteis.” Garvin said his name as though he were a long-lost acquaintance.

  “Garvin Reeves?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’re here to talk to you about Leaman Marshall. His sister, Kamira, said you were good friends.”

  “You talked to Kamira?”

  “We just came from her apartment.”

  He looked from him to Autumn and back again. “Are you some kind of investigator or something?”

  “I’m a private investigator,” Raith answered. He didn’t see much to gain by lying.

  “A private investigator, huh?” He looked at Autumn again. “And this is your girlfriend?”

  “Yes.” Did he wonder why he’d brought her?

  He turned to Autumn. “You look familiar.”

  “We’re here to talk to you about Leaman,” Raith said. “He was hired by someone to kill Kai Whittaker.”

  Garvin turned to Raith, still pondering whether he’d seen Autumn before. “Who?”

  “Kai Whittaker. CEO of DT Corporation.”

  “Leaman never mentioned anyone by that name,” Garvin said, and it may or may not be the truth.

  “Did you sell Leaman any guns?” No professional killer would own a registered gun.

  Garvin shook his head, but in a cynical way, almost mocking. He folded his arms. He was definitely lying.

  “I wonder how much inventory is missing from your records,” Raith said.

  “Is that a threat?”

  A man like him wouldn’t respond well to threats. “No. I just find it hard to believe that you wouldn’t help out a friend.” He insinuated that the kind of help offered would be illegal.

  “Leaman never talked to me about any of his jobs.” He grinned. “Real sorry about that.”

  Raith hadn’t expected Garvin to talk.

  “He did tell me about you, though,” Garvin said. He lowered his arms and leaned on the counter, bringing himself closer to Raith in a menacing way. “He said you wouldn’t leave him alone and that you were the reason he went to Reykjavik.”

  “I’ve been looking for him for quite some time.” Raith didn’t have to explain to Garvin his history with Leaman. Even with the horrible things his friend had done, Garvin would victimize him.

  “You should have kept your nose out of his business.”

  “He should have kept his out of mine.”

  Beside him, Autumn looked from Garvin to him. Not much ruffled Raith, and this man certainly didn’t. He must sound that way to Autumn right now.

  “Did you kill him?” Garvin asked.

  “I thought Leaman never talked to you about his jobs.”

  “He talked to me about you. But you probably already knew that, right? Otherwise, why come in here and show yourself, much less use your real name?” He let a few beats pass. “Did you kill him?”

  Raith didn’t justify that with an answer. He wasn’t going to lie, and he wasn’t going to volunteer the information. But Garvin drew his own conclusion.

  Anger pinched the bridge of Garvin’s nose and darkened his eyes. “I should kill you right now.”

  “You could try.”

  “You think you’re invincible, but you’re not. Your day will come. When your guard is down, your day will come.”

  “Judging from everything I’ve heard about Leaman, I’d say he got what he deserved. If I were you, I’d be careful not to follow the same path.”

  Garvin looked past them and gave a single nod.

  Two big men approached, flanking Raith and Autumn.

  “Have a nice day, Mr. De Matteis,” Garvin said. Then he looked at Autumn. “My regrets for not meeting you under different circumstances.”

  Autumn didn’t respond, only turned with Raith. He put his arm around her, ushering her ahead of him.

  Outside, the door slammed shut and he and Autumn walked to the car.

  “Now what are we going to do?”

  “Find another way to get information out of him.”

  * * *

  Parking right in front of Garvin’s tri-level in a 1970s neighborhood, Raith noted the evidence that his business wasn’t doing very well. Garvin may sell guns illegally, but he wasn’t making significant income from doing so. That suggested that he may be keeping it to a minimum and perhaps, at least to some extent, he had respect for the law. Or feared it, which really was the same thing. Maybe now that Leaman was dead and no longer able to influence him, he’d live a legitimate life.

  “What are we doing?” Autumn asked.

  “We’re going to see if Garvin is hiding anything in his house.” He climbed out of the car, fleetingly catching Autumn’s confused look.

  When she walked beside him on the dying grass of the front lawn, he said, “Stay close to me.”

  “Isn’t this dangerous?” she asked. “And illegal?”

  “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “What about the illegal part?”

  The decided edge to her tone and her brisk pace revealed her antipathy. What had her so uptight? The illegality of breaking and entering did have cause for concern, but the emotion he sensed in her clued him in to more. Her reaction had to stem from more than the situation she had been unwittingly drawn into. It was more personal than that.

  “Would you prefer to wait in the car?” he asked.

  “No,” she snapped.

  He stopped, looking around to make sure no one took special notice of them. “If you have a problem with this...”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She started walking briskly again.

  He caught up to her. “Is it Garvin?”

  “Is what Garvin?”

  “Did going to talk to him bother you?” She’d looked at him funny when he’d subtly threatened the man.

  “No. Just drop it.”

  “Sorry, you just seem a little moody all of a sudden.”

  They walked around the side of the house. Autumn didn’t respond, but he could see and feel her emotions churning.

  At Garvin’s back door, he glanced at Autumn before he pulled out his special tool and had the garage open in less than a minute. It had an old, worn lock.

  “Not your first break-in, huh?” Autumn sneered.

  “I’m not the bad guy in all of this, Autumn.”

  She eyed him as though that was debatable.

  He stepped into the garage. The inner door was unlocked. He led Autumn through a messy kitchen with chipped butcher-block counters, gold appliances and fake oak linoleum floor. The small living room had badly stained off-white carpeting and a worn blue cloth couch and chair framing a square coffee table littered with trash and evidence of drug use.

  “Remember to stay close to me,” he said to Autumn.

  “Where else would I go?” she asked. “I’d like to still be breathing after this is all over.”

  That stopped him. He faced her. “All right, tell me what’s got you so upset. Is it because I called you my girlfriend?”

  “No.”

  He heard the half-truth in her voice. “Why does that upset you? Because you aren’t?”

  “You lie and shoot a gun for a living.”

  Should he be the one offended now? “So you resent being portrayed as my girlfriend.”

  “No.”

  Now he heard the truth and softened. But there was still something missing, something she wasn’t saying, and wouldn’t say.

  “It’s just...I’ve never had a boyfriend like you before. One who...breaks the law.”

  “And that’s what upsets you?” That’s all?

  “Yes.”

  Raith didn’t see himself as crooked. But he did see how that would bother her—if she were actually his girlfriend.

  “I’ve thought about getting out of this and doing something different,” he said.

  Her face brightened. “You have?”

  “I can’t travel the world and shoot people my whole life. I’d like to retire someday.”

  “When is someday?”

  “I could retire now if I decided to.” Why did his getting out of his current profession appeal to her so much?

  That warmed her even more, he saw. “You’d be bored.”

  “Exactly why I haven’t done it yet.”

  “You could find something else to do. What do you enjoy?”

  “Do-it-yourself projects. And I do like working in criminal justice.”

  “So maybe a twist on that.” She smiled.

  He looked down her body in a flowing yellow top that flared over the waist of dark blue leggings. She’d hung her small beaded purse securely from her shoulder, gripping the strap, a bulky yellow-and-blue bracelet matching her earrings and necklace.

 

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