Free Black And Blue (Quentin Black Mystery #5) by JC Andrijeski Page A

didn’t follow her outright.
    Hell, he was doing that already, although he hadn’t had the nerve to tell her just yet. Two of his crew were staying at the hotel to keep an eye on her when he wasn’t around. He’d pinged them with his watch before he dropped her off, so one of them was probably already waiting for her in the bar by the time she left the car.
    Solonik had done that to him.
    So had the Templar killer, if in a different way than it had with her.
    Pushing Miri from his mind with an effort, he stretched his arms out, swinging them a bit to try and stretch out the fabric. It didn’t help much, in terms of relieving the pinching around his shoulders, but he did it again anyway.
    “You ready?” Hawking said, when Black dropped his arms back to his sides.
    “I need a gun,” Black said.
    Mozar looked up, his mouth pinched. “You don’t get a gun.”
    “Beat cops carry guns, Mozar.”
    “You don’t,” he said, his voice sharp. “You’re here in strictly an advisory capacity, Black. We can’t approve you for a firearm.”
    Black considered pushing him, then decided to play nice.
    “Stop by the hotel,” he said, making a conciliatory gesture. “I’ve got two concealed carries there. With permits. Nothing to do with the department.”
    Hawking shook his head. “We don’t have time. Really, you don’t need it tonight. And SWAT is waiting for us now.”
    After another pause, Black nodded.
    He followed behind Hawking when the blond detective and Mozar turned down the cubicle-lined corridor, aiming their feet for the front door of the precinct building. He couldn’t help taking another pass at both of their minds as they walked.
    Some part of him wanted to ease Miri’s mind, even now.
    It irritated him to find he wasn’t the only one thinking about his wife.
    He’s a fuck of a lot quieter without her, Hawking mused, even as he glanced over his shoulder at Black. It’s easy to forget the guy’s a spook when Miri’s around... I wonder if she knows how different he is, when she’s not there...
    Mozar’s thoughts were harder, more annoyed. A fucking gun. Is he serious? If he gets out there and starts smarting off or talking shit, I might shoot him myself...
    “Why didn’t you warn him?” Black spoke up.
    He aimed the question at Mozar’s back. They’d just left the building and now walked through the parking lot. Rodrigo led them straight to an unmarked police car, one of those heavy American sedans that looked like they could run into a wall at eighty miles per hour and everyone would survive.
    “Sterling,” he clarified. “You’re using him as bait, but you didn’t tell him?”
    Mozar looked at him like he’d just suggested they shoot Sterling themselves. “We strongly suspect he’s working for one of the syndicates, Black.”
    “Yeah,” Black said. “I got that. But he works for the one that wants to help you catch the shooter, right? They obviously trust the guy, or they’d be a lot more worried about you picking him up. That, or they think he’s untouchable. They wouldn’t lead you to a hitman’s kill sheet on the guy, and then stand around and wait for you to stop his murder if they thought he’d roll on them under interrogation...”
    Or they’d kill him themselves before that could happen... Hawking’s mind muttered. Or they want us involved for some other reason...
    Black glanced at him, in spite of himself.
    Frowning, he looked between the two of them.
    “I guess the ethics of leaving the guy out there with his ass in the wind never crossed either of your minds?” he said. “Or are you so cocky you think there’s no way you won’t get there first?”
    Mozar gave him an annoyed look. “We discussed it. It’s a calculated risk... and one I hope we’ve taken appropriate precautions to minimize. If we told Sterling there might be a hit out on him, the whole thing would be off.”
    When Black shook his head, refolding his arms in the too-tight uniform shirt, Mozar