Full Disclosure (Nice Guys 2)

“I haven’t. I’ve only been here about fifteen minutes. He was already in surgery when I arrived.” Mitch looked between the three of them.

“They came down and got us. He’s supposed to be in recovery now. We can see him soon,” Mrs. Turner said.

“I don’t even know that much. I only got this far in because of the deputy marshal badge,” Mitch admitted. That seemed to frustrate Cody’s sister. She looked at him hard, then did an abrupt turn, focusing on her parents.

“Mom, you need to come sit down,” she said, ushering her mom to the chairs in the middle of the room.

“How did I not even know Cody had a boyfriend?” Mrs. Turner asked her daughter.

“I talked to him about noon today. He told me. He said he was going to come tell you and Dad this week sometime,” Sheila answered, her voice fading. As much as he wanted to hear whatever else she had to say, Mr. Turner was still standing in front of him, waiting for the women to get out of hearing range.

“What are they saying? I’ve heard ‘a random act of violence’ on the radio coming in, but I can’t get through to anyone who knows anything. Damn Sunday, nobody’s fuckin’ working, and I’m not buying it,” Mr. Turner spoke up. The years in law enforcement left the older man shrewd, and you could see the wheels turning as he worked through the situation.

“Sir, as much as I hate to say this, I’m not at liberty to say,” Mitch responded honestly.

“So there is more to this?” he asked. Mitch sighed and just gave as much as he could at this moment.

“Yes, sir. It’s much bigger.” Mr. Turner’s face turned hard. This wouldn’t be the end of their conversation, and thank god, the doctor chose then to enter the room. Otherwise Mitch may have caved under the intensity in Mr. Turner’s eyes.

“Are you Cody Turner’s family?” the doctor asked.

“Yes, sir.” That same attitude Mr. Turner just gave him was there all over Sheila’s face. She was the first one to the doctor.

“How is he?” she asked.

“He’s holding his own and currently in recovery. It’ll be a while before he wakes,” the surgeon informed quickly and efficiently. “Are you Deputy Marshal Knox?” he turned, looking directly at Mitch.

“Yes, sir,” he answered.

“Officer Turner regained consciousness in the ambulance. He gave me very strict instructions to talk to you and no one else. I had to promise him and then repeat the words back to him before he would allow surgery. He said, a special agent, CIA, badge authentic. The suspect was tall, lean, muscular, graying hair, brown eyes, a scar along his left cheekbone, and one under his right eye. Hate-related,” the doctor repeated Cody’s words and looked visibly relieved he got them all out. “He also felt sure you would be here.”

Mitch pulled his phone out, typing into the notes section as the doctor spoke. He repeated the words back to him. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes, but it was only if he didn’t make it through. Since he did, I’m not to say,” the doctor added.

Mitch was having none of that. He tossed out his own hard stare, trying to match that of Cody’s sister. “Tell me what he said.”

It took a full minute of silence before the doctor responded. “He said he meant what he said this weekend.”

Those words were said in a completely different tone than the first. They had meaning and stole Mitch’s breath away. He nodded, looking down at the phone, pretending to type. He felt an arm at his back, patting him, and he looked down at Cody’s little mother trying to give him comfort while her son lay in recovery just a few feet away.

“What are his injuries?” his father asked, breaking the silence.

“Someone was watching out for him. His chest wound was nothing really, just deep bruising. Shards from the protective case on the phone had been embedded into his skin, but other than that, the bullet didn’t penetrate. The one in his shoulder was a clean entry. He was very lucky.”

“Were there any other injuries?” Sheila questioned.

“At first we thought he may have a closed head injury, but he’s been downgraded to a nasty contusion. It’ll heal. He was unconscious when he got here. Probably the pain and shock took him under,” the doctor said.

“Can we see him?” his father asked.

“Yes. They’ll be back to get you in a few minutes.” The doctor nodded and gave a small smile.

“Thank you, doctor,” Mr. Turner said as the swinging doors opened. Two suits stepped in, silently taking their places. Mitch suspected every entrance into this part of the hospital would have the same security detail in place by this point.

His phone rang, and Mitch went back to the far side windows, trying to get as much signal as he could. He saw Aaron on the caller ID and answered immediately.

“It’s him. I got proof, well, sort of positive ID. You can’t see his face super-well, but it’s his height, build, profile, and the rental he’s driving’s registered to him. He’d been in Austin for a few days. He got there Friday, per the rental.”

“Is he on a flight?” Mitch’s heart rate sped up.

“You haven’t heard back from Connors?” Aaron asked.

“No.”

“Hang on, I’ll get it. You guys are too slow.”

“We don’t all have the skills you do, Stuart.” Mitch prayed they got that son-of-a-bitch.

“Hot damn, man! You got your break! He’s on a non-stop to DC, flight three eight seven. His boarding pass was scanned about thirty minutes ago. Want me to call Connors?”

“No, I got it. Thanks, man. I owe you,” Mitch said, disconnecting the call. He dialed Connors’s cell phone.

“He’s on flight three eight seven out of Austin; we know where he’s going, Knox.” Connors supplied immediately.

“Good. You going after him?”

“We’ll get him the minute he steps off the flight,” Connors assured.

“Don’t lose him. It’ll be a crowded flight. Don’t take chances.”

“Do I ever? We’re notifying the airlines now. We’ll get him, I promise,” Connors responded. “How’s Officer Turner?”