Framed Shadows: Shadows Landing #6 Kathleen Brooks (summer beach reads .TXT) 📖

Shadows Landing and I have my phone on me. Nothing else is written down. I hadn’t even fully unpacked since I thought I’d be going back to Atlanta soon.”

“But the apartment does tell the Myriad that you’re alive. Agent Whitlock, what does Gangs have to say?” Peter asked the agent in charge of gang activity in Charleston.

The agent stepped over to them along with a local police officer. “The Myriads began expanding into Charleston before Agent Kendry arrived. They came in with a bang, a violent takeover of a prime real estate area. They assassinated the leadership of the old local gang and took in the old members who wanted to join, but promised to kill anyone who didn’t. It gave the Myriad had a sizable territory and a whole network of members practically overnight,” Agent Whitlock explained.

The local officer nodded along with Whitlock’s explanation. “I’m Boyd with Charleston Street Crimes Unit. I’m assigned to the Myriad. They’ve been dealing in high-quality cocaine. We’re not sure where it’s coming from, but we know it’s not local. Their market is big and growing rapidly. They’re targeting high-end clients with one brand of cocaine, and they have an economy grade, too. It’s cut with cheaper, less stable ingredients. That mark on your wall is the tag for the Charleston Myriad. You’ve been made a target and they’re coming for you.”

“I guessed that,” Paxton said, looking at the snake. “But is it locals or from Atlanta? I need to know who is after me.”

“Locals. See in the blood drips,” Boyd said, pointing at them. “You see CHS. That’s the Charleston chapter. ATL would be if it were the Atlanta chapter.”

“Thank you, Boyd,” Peter told him before turning to Whitlock. “Do you have agents outside keeping an eye on the place?”

“We do. There’s a lot of curiosity. We even did a couple of stop-and-frisks on suspicious people. They were clean, but they also didn’t leave. They’re watching the building.”

“Thank you, Whitlock,” Peter said, dismissing him and Boyd.

“Shit,” Paxton cursed as soon as they had privacy. “What about Tinsley? I can’t leave her unprotected like this, but I also know I can’t blow the art deal.”

“We need to sneak you out of here,” Peter told him.

“Actually,” Paxton said, stopping him. “We need them to think I’m somewhere else. They need to see me to put a name with my face now that I’m not undercover.”

“You can’t walk out like that. They’ll recognize you if any of them share a picture with Maurice and Murray.”

“I’m not going to look like me,” Paxton said with a smile. “Think Miss Tibbie would let me borrow a wig?”

Thirty minutes later Peter returned with a wig and some makeup after sneaking out of the building and back in via the fire escape. Paxton held it up and grimaced. “It’s a mullet.”

“It’s the Florence Henderson Brady Bunch wig,” Peter announced with a smile.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Paxton said as he pulled on the wig. “Hey, this isn’t that bad.” Paxton grabbed a rubber band and put the mullet flip part of the hair into a low ponytail. He used the makeup to darken his face where his beard would be if he had grown it out. Up close it looked ridiculous but from far enough away it would pass for a closely groomed beard.

“I’ll make sure everyone is back across the street and I’ll meet you down there. Do you have a plan?” Peter asked as Paxton picked up his phone.

“I do. Just make sure you call my name real loud and ask me where I’m going,” Paxton told him.

Five minutes later, Paxton walked outside the apartment with a bulletproof vest underneath an oversized sweatshirt. Best of all, Ryker Faulkner’s helicopter was ready and waiting for him at the airport.

“Hey, Kendry!” Peter yelled loud enough for half the block to hear. “Get back to the office. We need a report on this.”

Paxton turned to face Peter who was across the street, pretending to talk to Whitlock. “No can do, boss. I’m going to Atlanta and taking care of this once and for all,” Paxton yelled back.

He got into his car and noticed two men break away from the crowd and head toward their own vehicles. Paxton didn’t wait for them, but he also didn’t make it hard for them to follow him.

Paxton kept an eye on them in his rearview mirror as he navigated the narrow downtown streets. They kept their distance within the city, but as soon as Paxton was on the highway heading toward the airport, they changed tactics.

They were no longer trying to stay hidden. Instead, they were trying to catch him. Good. It was exactly what Paxton wanted. He needed them to chase him and see him arrive at the airport. They all needed to think he was on his way to Atlanta. Paxton sped up as he cut in and out of traffic. Horns blared and his pulse raced as his speed increased to over a hundred miles per hour.

Paxton kept his gaze in the mirror as he used every defensive driving technique he knew to get to Ryker’s helicopter. The ping of the first bullet hitting the back of his SUV as he tore down the off-ramp toward the airport had him radioing ahead for airport police to be waiting for him.

The second shot shattered the back window. Glass cracked, and the pffft of the bullet whizzing by him and out the front window had Paxton ducking in his seat. He began to swerve to make it harder for the gang members to shoot at him, but Paxton didn’t have much farther to go. He heard sirens up ahead, but a second later a flurry of shots rang out. The bullets came through the back window and slammed into the front dash and into the headrests.

Paxton grabbed his gun with his left hand and drove with his right. He reached across his body, aimed his gun through the destroyed rear window, and blindly fired