Page 22 of Deadly Sins: Envy

It was the most decent thing I’d heard her say.

She smacked me on the shoulder. “Enough. Get up. Moping about it won’t change anything. We have a dirtbag in custody, and your friend Coop is still alive. That’s something.”

CHAPTER 9

Coop didn’t appear to be in the best of moods when I checked on him at the hospital the next morning. The scowl on his face was a good indication of how his day had been going so far. He’d been shot in the right leg the night before, just below the knee, and had been fitted with a leg immobilizer, something he was already complaining about.

“At least the guy was a lousy shot,” I said.

“What took the cops so long to get in there?” Coop asked.

“According to Murphy, you convinced him to hang back unless you said the distress word you both had agreed upon. You never said it, so they stayed outside.”

“Yeah, well, I was preoccupied. I’d just been shot.” He chucked a plastic hospital mug across the room. It smacked against the wall and the lid came off, splashing water and ice chips all over the floor. “Damnit!”

“I mean, it’s not their fault,” I said. “Once they knew things weren’t going according to plan, they were inside the cemetery in seconds.”

“I know it isn’t their fault,” he spat. “It’smine.”

“No, it isn’t. We couldn’t have known what was about to happen. Has the shooter been identified yet— the one who shot you?”

“Murphy texted me this morning. His name is Danny Jackson.”

“What do we know about him so far?”

“He’s in his early thirties. He works at his brother’s construction company.

He’s single. Never been married. No kids. He’s been arrested a few times for burglary and has served jail time in the past. So far, he’s refusing to talk, and even though he’s involved, Murphy doesn’t believe he’s the same guy who was at Dean Watson’s house.”

I agreed.

“He doesn’t match the profile,” I said. “He’s not big, like Dean described, and there are no markings on his neck. He held his gun in his left hand, and Dean thought the guy in his house held it with his right.”

“He also threatened to communicate with someone else, even though it could have been a bluff. We should assume he wasn’t working alone.”

“Why, though? Why involve someone else when you’re asking for such a small amount of ransom money? If they’d split the money, they would have made five thousand apiece. Doesn’t seem worth it.”

Coop ran a hand over his face. “None of this makes sense.”

“Not yet,” I said.

I grabbed my bag off the chair and slung it over my shoulder. “When will they let you out of here?”

“They’re saying it could be a few days or more. I’ll take it up with the doc when he gets here and convince him to give me a reduced sentence.”

“Your father is on his way here. I’m going to head out, but I’ll be back later.”

“Where are you going?”

“To see what I can dig up on Danny Jackson.”

Coop’s phone buzzed. He leaned over, trying to pick it off the tray table next to him, and winced.

“Here, let me,” I said.

I grabbed it and handed it to him.

He answered, listened for a minute, and then poked my arm, looking at me like he didn’t want me to leave until the call was over.