Free Deadly Aim by Patricia H. Rushford

about?”
    “Long story. I’ll tell you later.” As they reached the landing, her heart dropped to the vicinity of her knees. “Oh, no,” she groaned. “I should have known.”
    The media had found her.
    There were no newspapers or television and radio stations in Sunset Cove. Most of these people had come in from Portland. No doubt the entire state, maybe the entire country, would know about her involvement in Billy’s death after tonight. She hadn’t thought about the far-reaching effects of the shooting until now. She thought seriously about going back inside and curling up under the covers.
    Cameras flashed and whirred as Brandon and Angel approached his car. The press had apparently been hanging around the parking lot, waiting for her to appear. Brandon unfortunately had parked his shiny black Lexus beside her Corvette. “We’d like to ask you a few questions,” several reporters asked simultaneously.
    “No comment.” Angel flinched when someone stuffed a microphone in her face.
    “You killed a child, Ms. Delaney.” The woman’s voice had an accusatory edge. “What do you have to say to his parents?”
    The unfair accusation cut deep. Angel stopped and glared at the reporter. “That child was a gang member. He had a gun.”
    She bit her lip. Not a smart move. It won’t do any good to antagonize the press . “I’m sorry it happened. I was only doing my job.”
    “You don’t have to defend yourself to these people, Angel.” Brandon pressed closer to her and in a low voice added, “It might be better if you don’t say anything at all.”
    He lifted his arm to protect her and pushed through the mob to his car, then opened the passenger side door and guided her inside. Relieved, she sank into the comfortable leather seats, strapping herself in. The press swarmed around the car like yellow jackets around a garbage can.
    Brandon ducked into the car and shut his door. “I’m sorry, Angel. I saw them milling around when I came in, but I had no idea they were after you.” His jaw tightened as he maneuvered the car between what had to be twenty people. “If I’d known, I would’ve parked on the street and hustled you out the back.”
    Angel bit her lip, wondering what he was thinking. “I should’ve realized they’d come after me as soon as they found out about the shooting.” She looked back. The press was already disbanding, getting into their cars and vans.
    Brandon drove around until they were certain none of the vultures had followed them, then he headed for the restaurant. Once they’d been seated, handed menus, and ordered drinks, he leaned forward, arms on the cloth-covered table. “Want to tell me about it?”
    “No.” She sighed. “But after all you’ve just been through, you deserve an answer.”
    “Darn right. If I hadn’t been there to rescue you, they’d have picked your bones clean by now.”
    Angel chuckled despite her sour mood. “I wouldn’t go that far. I could’ve handled them on my own. But thanks.” The lights had dimmed, and in the candle’s glow, Angel recounted the day’s events until the waiter came to take their order. They both ordered the salmon special with Caesar salads. When the waiter left, Brandon sat there a moment, staring at the flowers in the center of the table.
    Angel felt a moment’s fear while she waited for his response. Would he tell her he couldn’t afford to be connected with her?
    “Not that it’s any consolation,” he finally said, “but it sounds like you did the right thing.” He reached across the table to take her hand.
    She relaxed. She should have known Brandon wouldn’t send her packing. His parents would, but Brandon wasn’t like them—most of the time. “I guess. I don’t know. I keep wondering if I reacted too quickly. I honestly thought he was going to fire his weapon.”
    Not a weapon. A toy . Angel rubbed her forehead, trying to ease away the beginnings of another headache. She took a sip of tea and lifted her