Brody & Hannigan 02 - Grand Theft Lotto by Paula Graves Page B

out of his grasp. A couple of fat raindrops chased him inside, and by the time he entered the loft, the tall windows that made up one long wall of the apartment were streaked with rain.
    Had the call about meeting her cousin been an excuse to keep from coming over tonight at all? Had she changed her mind and used her family crisis to ease the blow?
    He checked his phone messages, half-expecting to hear her voice on the other end of the call, begging off. But the only message was from his mother, reminding him of his father's upcoming birthday celebration a week from Sunday. "I know you're always on call, but if you can manage to keep the criminal element from interrupting our party on Sunday, that would be lovely," she said in a drily humorous tone that made him smile. "And if she's free, why don't you bring that partner of yours? We'd love to get to know her better."
    Unerring motherly instinct, he thought with a smile. He wrote the date on his calendar—something he should have done long before —and made a mental note to ask Hannigan if she'd be interested in going.
    She'd met his parents before, in more public settings, but if they were going to change their relationship from platonic to—well—not, he supposed she'd probably be seeing his parents more often. His father's seventieth birthday party was as good an occasion as any to get started.
    He showered and—still thinking optimistically—shaved while he waited for Hannigan to arrive. Redressed in jeans and a long-sleeved black Henley shirt he knew she liked, he had just started sorting through his MP3 player to work up a playlist he knew she'd enjoy when three sharp raps on the loft door startled him. He glanced at his watch—barely after twelve. She'd made good time.
    He unlocked the door and swung it open, already smiling.
    But it wasn't Hannigan standing in his doorway. It was Cade Sullivan, the boxer from The Body Shop.
    Holding an enormous Colt .45 Combat Elite.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Ten
     
     
    "You've got to help me, man!"
    "Put the weapon down," Brody said with a calm he didn't feel. His own weapon was on the table by the sofa, several feet away. He'd never make it there before Sullivan took a shot.
    "Look, man—" Sullivan waved the Colt, sending a shock wave rocking through Brody's body.
    Brody held up his hands in the universal "I mean you no harm" gesture, but he was ready to dive for cover at the first chance possible. "I'll help you, but first you have to put the weapon down."
    Sullivan lowered the barrel of the gun, though he didn't relinquish it completely. Still, the small concession was enough to make Brody's whole body quiver with relief. He gripped the doorjamb with one hand just to stay upright.
    Cade stared at him, then at the gun in his own hand. An almost comical expression of realization washed over his face and he quickly bent and set the gun on the floor. "Sorry, man. Sorry! I wasn't—I didn't mean—" Sullivan sounded as if he were on the verge of weeping. "I didn't come here to hurt anybody. I need your help! Somebody killed Anton. You were there. You saw what they did to him. I'm afraid I'm next."
    "How did you find me?" Brody asked as he picked up the Colt and ejected the ammunition.
    Sullivan looked a little sheepish. "I followed you home from the police station."
    Brody sighed, motioning him inside. He took the sofa, while Sullivan hunkered down, hunched and miserable looking, in the armchair opposite.
    "Do you have any idea who killed Dwayne and Anton?" Brody asked.
    Sullivan shook his head. "Not exactly. It could be a lot of people."
    "People you and your friends at the gym were blackmailing?"
    Sullivan's eyes narrowed. "You know about the pictures, then."
    "You were involved?"
    "It wasn't my idea. I just—" He looked a little sheepish. "Ladies like me, you know? And I have this little video hobby, you see."
    "And you videotaped your...liaisons with women who might not be happy about evidence of those