Page 13 of Broken Wheels
Dix had no way of knowing the answer to that. “Maybe, maybe not. They could have timed it to go off at three-fifteen, or someone could have detonated it from a distance once they’d seen you go inside.”
Doc crumpled, and Dix felt like a bastard for what he’d done, but it wasn’t as if Doc wouldn’t hear it from someone else.
Maybe someone else wouldn’t have been an asshole about it.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? We need to get out of here. Now.” Then Dix saw a police officer heading straight for them, and he knew that wasn’t about to happen any time soon.
Six hours later, Dix led Doc out of the Roswell Police Department. He’d sat through a couple of interviews and had made a statement, but then the feds had shown up. Michael had called Dix to warn him about that. The explosion had involved someone on their radar—namely, Doc—and so they’d moved quickly. Both he and Dix had told them everything they knew, including the name of the man who was supposed to have met Doc at the mall. With each passing hour, Doc had become increasingly more withdrawn, and Dix knew it was his fault. He’d pressed when he shouldn’t have.
In the end, they’d let them go with an admonition to stay close because they’d probably want to talk again. Doc merely nodded, wincing a little.
“I’m taking you to CrossBow,” Dix said in a firm voice, anticipating an argument.
Surprisingly, Doc nodded. “I need to talk to Michael.”
Dix huffed. “What a coincidence. I think he wants to talk to you too.” He hoped Michael would take it easy on Doc. He’d had a rough day, he was likely concussed, and guilt was probably eating him alive. “Michael said he’d send someone to pick up our cars in the morning. Right now no one is allowed anywhere near there.” He got his phone out and organized an Uber.
Doc was way too quiet, but Dix didn’t try to fill the void with inane chatter. What Doc needed was a good night’s sleep.
Yeah right. As if that’s going to happen.
When the car pulled up outside CrossBow’s main door, Dix spied Michael waiting behind the wall of glass.
Time to face the music.
Doc stepped into the lobby and walked over to where Michael stood. Before Michael could utter a word, Doc spoke, his voice quavering.
“Someone tried to kill me. I think it was the government.”
Chapter 5
To his credit, Michael merely raised his eyebrows.
“I think this is a conversation best kept for my office, instead of standing in the lobby, don’t you?” He studied Doc’s face, his eyes narrowing when he saw the bandage. “You look like shit.”
Doc set his jaw. “Are you going to bawl me out?”
“Not tonight. After you’ve slept? That’s a different matter.” He turned and headed for the elevator, Dix following, making sure Doc went in front of him.
He wasn’t gonna take his eyes off Josh Malone, not for an instant.
Gary was waiting for them, and he looked as though he could use a good night’s sleep himself. He gestured to the couch, and Dix didn’t miss the slight tremor in his hand.
A reminder he didn’t need that while Gary Cross was in a better state than he had been, the damage was still there.
Gary gazed at Doc, his brow furrowed. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.
Before Doc could reply, Michael got in first. “He’s going to get plenty of rest—after he shares why he thinks the US government tried to kill him.” He went over to the countertop where the coffee machine stood. “Anyone else need a shot of caffeine?”
“Not me,” Gary told him.
Michael chuckled. “You’re damn right, not you.”
Doc snorted. “I’ll have Gary’s. I’m not going to sleep anyway.”
“I’ll have some too,” Dix added. Doc was worrying the shit out of him.
Doc sat on the couch, sagging against the seat cushions, as if all his energy had suddenly taken a hike. Michael placed the cups on the coffee table, then grabbed the chair facing Gary’s desk and turned it to face him. He sat, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.