Page 21 of Reckless

Her head now felt like it was splitting open. Unable to form another coherent thought, Jazz fell back onto the bed. Her last thought was that there was one man who would tear the world apart to find her. The only problem was, Xavier had no idea she was missing.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Seattle

Letting go a frustrated sigh, Xavier shoved his fingers through his hair. He shot a look at Hawke, who looked as though he could eat nails. Even though this was largely part of the job, neither he nor Hawke enjoyed interrogation. It was often uninformative and useless. People’s memories of events could be so different, little could be learned.

This time, though, they did have a few useful nuggets of information. They knew that the shooter had been a kitchen assistant who’d worked there for almost two months. Going by the name Brian Mitchell, the man was described as a tall, muscular guy. The descriptions after that were varied. Some said he had dark blond hair, piercing green eyes, and a scar on the left side of his face that extended from his brow down to his neck. Others said his hair was more brown than blond, the scar was small and only on his cheek, and was on the right side, not the left. A couple said he walked with a limp. One woman said he had an accent, but she wasn’t sure if it was Southern or British.

They all agreed that Mitchell had been soft-spoken, prompt, and reliable. He had also been a loner, rarely talking to his coworkers beyond what was necessary. No one had anything negative to say about him.

The fact that the guy, in plain sight, could change up his appearance in that many ways without anyone really noticing told them what they already knew. He was a professional.

His plan had been a good one. Get hired on a couple of months before his target was scheduled to appear. Establish himself as a loyal, competent employee, and then wait for his mark to show up.

How the assassin knew Bass would be coming to the restaurant on that particular night wasn’t hard to figure out. WP had an agenda and connections everywhere. Steering Bass toward the restaurant on a particular day would have been easy. And the poor, clueless devil had taken the bait.

This was their typical method of ridding themselves of the people they either no longer wanted to use or who’d angered them in some way. Who knew which one Bass had been? One would think that, at some point, people would pick up on the fact that there was often an expiration date on their usefulness.

“Who’s next?” Hawke asked.

Xavier glanced down at the list and couldn’t help but grin. “Red Green.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Colorful, eh?”

Hawke’s lip moved slightly upward. “Something like that. Let’s bring him in.”

Going to the door, Xavier called out, “Mr. Green?”

The name of the man who walked through the door was made even more ironic by his almost colorless personality. Youngish, with a shiny bald head, pale blue eyes, and a pasty complexion, he answered in monosyllabic murmurs. Giving more than a one-word answer or a shrug was apparently too much for him.

After interviewing twenty-three members of the kitchen staff, neither Xavier nor Hawke expected any new information about the shooter. This guy could barely get out more than a complete sentence. Xavier decided to send him on his way.

“All right, Mr. Green, thank you for?—”

“You do know that they caught the guy who did this, don’t you?”

How about that? Mr. Red Green actually could verbalize an entire sentence.

“We’re aware, but follow-up is important for a case like this.”

The man shrugged his thin shoulders, making Xavier think he was back to one-word answers and shrugs. But then, in a surprise twist, he uttered another coherent statement. “Yeah…whatever. At least that chick I talked to the other day was good to look at.”

“Tell us more about this ‘chick,’” Hawke said. “Who was she working for?”

“Don’t know. She just basically asked the same questions you guys did.”

“What did she look like?” Xavier asked.

“Good-looking. Short and kind of skinny. Had short, black hair, dark brown eyes. Classy but kinda hot, too.”

Xavier shot a look at Hawke, who was apparently thinking the same thing. Why the hell would Jazz be investigating the shooting on her own? She was supposed to be taking time for herself, not working the op.

Xavier abruptly went to his feet, causing Green to show the first real sign of emotion, which was terror. Xavier knew that his size and scruffy look often intimidated people, and he didn’t mind using them to his advantage.

“Thanks for your time, Mr. Green.”