I was still processing what he’d said, sifting through the nuances of it, as he returned the Glock to me.
“So who else do you teach besides PTA moms and Rotary Club grandmas?” I asked, parroting back his comment from the bar the night we’d met.
The corner of his mouth hitched up. “Why? Are you going to put me in one of your books?”
“Will you answer my questions if I say yes?”
“You shoot, I’ll talk,” he said, inclining his head toward the target. He waited until I’d discharged a few more rounds before answering. “Mostly, I handle testing and training for the department,” he said between pops of the gun. “Occasionally, I teach civilians and department employees who want to apply for a concealed carry permit—judges, secretaries, lab rats, the occasional attorneys.”
“Who’s the best shooter here?” I asked as I worked through my remaining rounds. “Besides you.”
He leaned in to correct my grip. “If you asked me a couple months ago, I would have said Sam.”
“Samara?” I asked, not bothering to mask my surprise. “I thought she specialized in cybercrimes.”
“She goes through the same training as everyone else. Joey’s not bad either. He looked pretty sharp the few times I’ve seen him out here. But it’s easy to hit a stationary target on a lighted range. It’s another to take out two active shooters through a smoke line in the dark. Damn near impossible after you’ve been shot twice.”
I lowered the empty gun. “Nick?”
Wade reached for it, his voice low in my earmuffs. “Don’t go telling him I said it. The asshole’s cocky enough.”
“Don’t go telling Nick what?” came a voice behind us. I turned and saw the last of the students filing out of the range. Charlie stood with his arms crossed behind us, watching Wade load the last of his bullets into the Glock.
“Nothing,” Wade said as he handed it back to me and gestured for me to keep shooting.
“Good,” Charlie said. “Wouldn’t want to have to tell him you were giving his star pupil a hard time, but it sounds like he’s got nothing to worry about.”
Wade grunted. “Tell that son of a bitch I never gave a woman anything she didn’t like.” Charlie guffawed. “What do you want, Charlie?”
“Need the keys to one of the training cruisers. Got emergency vehicle training this afternoon. Thought I’d take the class out to the skid pad and let Mrs. Haggerty do a few donuts. Finlay can ride shotgun.”
My finger slipped. Wade ducked as the shot rang out and a plastic light cover shattered in the ceiling downrange. I lowered the weapon, quickly moving my finger off the trigger as a piece of plastic dropped to the floor with a soft plink.
A chuckle started deep in Wade’s chest, growing louder in stereo as Charlie laughed, too. “That’s not funny!” I said. “Mrs. Haggerty can’t see far enough in front of her to read the odometer!”
“It’s a closed course,” Charlie said. “The most she can do is burn a little rubber. It’ll be the most excitement she’s seen in years. Don’t worry, I won’t let her do anything I wouldn’t do.” He winked, and I had the feeling that left Mrs. Haggerty quite a bit of wiggle room.
“I’ll get the keys. Keep an eye on my shooter,” Wade said to Charlie. “And you,” he said to me, “go easy on the lights.”
“What was that all about?” I asked Charlie once Wade was gone. I watched him through the small window of his office as he dragged open the top right drawer of his desk and rummaged around inside.
“Just poking at an old bruise,” Charlie said. “A few years ago, Wade and Nick had a falling-out over a woman, and Nick hasn’t gotten around to forgiving him yet.” Charlie jutted his chin toward the target. I tried to ignore the feeling that settled uncomfortably in my chest as I turned and fired my last few rounds. “If it’s any consolation, Wade seems to like you,” he said when I was finished. “And I can probably count on one hand the people in this world Wade Coffey likes.”
“How do you know?”
“He bet on you.”
“You mean that whiteboard I saw in the faculty lounge?” I asked dryly.
Charlie narrowed his eyes at me. “And what was a nice lady like you doing sneaking around in the faculty lounge? Not sampling from the fine collection of confiscated liquor, I hope.”
“There’s liquor hidden in there?”
“Third cabinet from the right, below the fire extinguisher.”
“Nick neglected to mention that.”
“I bet there’s something else Nick didn’t mention. And since I’ve got a cool hundred riding on you, I might be inclined to tell you.” He dipped his head close and lowered his voice. “If I was you, I’d get to bed early tonight.” Before I could ask him why, he turned for the door. Wade dropped a set of car keys in Charlie’s hand as they passed each other. “See you on the track, Donovan,” Charlie called over his shoulder.
Wade held his hand out for his gun. “How do you feel?” he asked, tucking it back in his waistband.
“Better,” I admitted as I stripped off my earmuffs and goggles and dropped them in my tote. Wade pressed the button on the wall. My target raced toward me with a startling whine, light shining through the bullet holes as it jolted to a stop in front of me. Some of the confidence I’d felt waned. The holes were haphazard and scattered, far less organized than they’d looked from a distance.
“You did good today,” Wade said as he tallied my points. He plucked the paper from its hanger and held it out to me. “Just remember, don’t put your finger on the trigger unless you’re willing to pull it. When you do, don’t second-guess yourself. Aim straight for the chest.” His eyes caught mine and held as I reached for my target. It was the first time I saw the glimmer of a detective inside them, and I hoped he hadn’t seen the glimmer of a criminal in mine.
CHAPTER 18
When I opened the door to our dorm room after class, Vero was sprawled on her belly on her bed, reading from my open laptop.
“Hey!” I slapped it shut.
“A tsunami, Finn? Are you kidding me right now!” She sat up on her knees, grabbing my computer as I reached for it and holding it hostage behind her head. “The assassin and the cop were having a moment—a very hot one, I might add. They were just about to get naked and do it on the beach, and you had to throw a tsunami at them? What kind of cockblock is that?”
“It’s not a cockblock! It’s a natural disaster.”
“Do they even have tsunamis in Mexico?”
“I don’t know! I’ve never even been there.” The most exotic place Steven and I had ever done it was in the bed of a pickup truck in the parking lot of his frat house in college.
“Tonight, you’re going to rewrite this scene, Finlay. You’re going to get rid of the tsunami—”
“Fine, I’ll make it a tropical storm.”
“No storms! Your assassin is going to stay on that beach and confess her feelings to the cop. She’s going to be bold and brave and face her fears, and she’s not going to freak out and go running in the other direction when he does the same. She’s going to throw caution to the wind, Finlay—”