Page 9 of Covert Mission
“Uh huh. How many stitches?”
Seth grimaced. “Too many.”
Noah glanced at Teagan. “Well?”
“Twenty. They’re waiting on the CT scan results to see if he can leave the hospital.”
Seth’s partner whistled. “You don’t mess around, Seth.”
“What’s happening with the investigation?”
“Crime scene team is still working at the site. Pico has been transported to the medical examiner’s office.”
Narrowing his eyes, Seth said, “And?”
“Your weapon was taken to the lab for testing.”
“I know it’s standard procedure, but I didn’t fire my Glock.”
Noah hesitated.
“What?”
Seth’s partner sighed. “Your weapon has been fired recently.”
“That’s not possible. The last time I fired my weapon was last week at the range, and I cleaned my weapon that night. I haven’t fired it since.”
“Like you said, it’s just procedure, Seth.”
“No, it isn’t. You’re holding back on me. Are you telling me Pico was killed with my gun?”
CHAPTER THREE
SETH’S STOMACH KNOTTED. This was bad. He hadn’t shot his confidential informant, but based on Noah’s reaction, his partner was questioning Seth’s role in Pico’s death. “I didn’t shoot him, Noah.”
“I believe you. At the moment, we don’t have proof. I only know that your weapon was fired recently, and Pico was shot with what looks like a nine mm weapon, like your Glock.”
Teagan’s hold around his hand tightened.
He glanced at his mystery woman. Her gaze, locked with his, was intense, as though trying to tell him something. Perhaps to be careful about what he said. Worked for him. Although he had nothing to hide, he didn’t plan on giving Noah or his lieutenant a reason to toss him in jail.
“Why didn’t you tell me your running buddy works for Brent Maddox’s outfit in Nashville?” Noah asked.
“Got a problem with that?” He didn’t take his gaze away from Teagan. Man, she had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.
“Yeah, I have a problem. I ran a background check on her and can’t find a thing.”
Teagan broke their gaze to shift her attention to Noah. “I work for a security company. They bury our personal information.”
“Come on,” Noah scoffed. “You can’t tell me that Fortress protects all their personnel’s information to that extent. Tooexpensive to maintain that kind of security wall for every employee.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know about the rest of the employees, but it’s standard operating procedure for teams.”
“Teams? What exactly do you do for Maddox? Install security systems or something?” Despite a blank expression, the disdain was clear in Noah’s voice.
“I’m in black ops. Heightened security is necessary.”
Noah stared. “You’re kidding. Black ops? As in the type of missions SEALs and Delta Force go on?”