Nickel City Storm Warning (Gideon Rimes Book 3) by Gary Ross (i can read books TXT) 📕

Her hand slid inside her navy jacket and returned with a pen and her notebook, which was open to a blank page by the time she reached me.

“Excuse me, sir.” I stood and stepped away, touching Corso’s elbow to make her follow. I led her down the corridor and stopped once we were out of Tillman’s earshot.

Corso looked up at me. “I’ve been told a member of your security team—Lucille Bishop—iced a neo-Nazi outside the library on a street full of pedestrians. Furthermore, said Nazi was the same guy who started all the ruckus last night at the art house.”

“Which you covered nicely in your article this morning. Thanks for keeping my name out of it.”

“Didn’t matter. You’re all over YouTube. Care to comment on the shooting?”

“Off the record,” I said. “Background first. Then we go on the record. For starters, you can’t publish my associate’s name. I don’t know how many white supremacists are in town right now to protest the diversity conference or maybe to attack it. Publishing Lucy’s name would endanger her and her whole family.”

Corso sighed and shook her head. “You’re still unclear how off the record works. I already have her name from a police source on the record. Your request that I not publish it is what’s off the record, not the information itself. Meanwhile, you’ve given me something I can’t publish but which may be in the public interest to know, like white supremacists may be here to attack the NCADI. Shall we take it from the top?”

I thought for a moment. “Okay. Off the record: Lucy Bishop is part of the protective detail covering Drea Wingard. On the record: a Black woman who attended the reading at PAUSA was assaulted outside the library this morning and fired a legally registered handgun in self-defense, killing the same man who disrupted the reading. Seems he wanted to disrupt today’s talk too, which the public should probably know. How’s that?”

“Better.”

“His name was Carter John. What happened to him should dovetail with your article. Maybe lead to a series on hate speech.”

“I’m touched you’re thinking of my professional well-being,” she said. “He’s Carter John but the shooter’s name is being withheld out of concern for her safety?”

“Yes.”

“That her husband you were talking to?”

“They have children.”

“Far as I can tell, I’m the first reporter on this inside HQ. If I can get it online soon, the TV and radio people will follow suit and keep her name out of print. Despite what some politicians say about us, we try to be responsible. We are not the enemy of the people.” Corso scribbled something in her notebook. “So why would he attack this woman?”

“Maybe he recognized her from the night before. Maybe he thought she recognized him and would tell someone in charge he was there. Maybe words were exchanged. In any case, he wasn’t alone last night or this morning, which means someone in his group may be unhinged enough to try attacking the conference, for revenge if not for its ideals.”

“A lone wolf?”

“Maybe a pack of wolves.”

She nodded, jotting more notes. “Who’s providing me with this information?”

“An anonymous member of the security team hired by her publisher, which pays for her security wherever in the country she makes public appearances because of constant death threats.”

“Someone who would like to see more cops during this thing at Torrance Towers?”

“I never said that.”

“But you wouldn’t be opposed.” She grinned. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Gazing past Corso, I saw Maxine Travis and Phoenix, in a gray suit and holding her briefcase, flanking Lucy Bishop as they moved along the corridor to the bench where Tillman Bishop sat. He stood and opened his arms to embrace his wife, who set a plastic bag on the bench before stepping into his embrace. The absence of handcuffs I took as a good sign. Then Tillman shook Phoenix’s hand after his wife introduced her. As Travis started toward us, I looked at Corso and nodded past her. “Met Maxine Travis yet? She’s new to Homicide after a long run in Syracuse. Bet she’d make a good story sometime.”

Corso turned as Travis reached us and stuck out her hand. “Detective Travis? I’ve heard of you. Amanda Corso of the Buffalo News. Any comment on this morning’s library shooting?”

Travis, who had maybe three inches on Corso, glanced past her at me before taking the proffered hand. “The matter is still under investigation but preliminary evidence points to self-defense.”

“Has Mrs. Bishop been released?”

“No comment other than our decision to withhold the shooter’s name out of concern for her, or his, safety.” She looked at me. “Consider the source of any information that gives a name erroneous.”

“It wasn’t me,” I said.

“I hear the victim was a white supremacist. That why you’re withholding the name?”

“No comment.”

“Is it true the shooter was wearing body armor?”

“No comment.” Travis looked at me again and curled a finger. “You. Come with me.”

I followed her back to the bench, where Phoenix stood with the Bishops.

“I need him for a little while,” Travis said to Phoenix. “Then he’s all yours.”

Phoenix looked at me a moment, lips pressed into a thin smile. “No rush.” She shot a look toward Corso. “I know where to find him.” She paused. “Thanks, detective.”

Lucy Bishop stepped in front of me, her dashiki looking cooler without the body armor sheath, which I presumed was in the plastic bag. “I’m sorry about all this, Mr. Rimes.”

“None of this is your fault.” I pointed to her chin. “May I?”

“Yes.”

Gently, I lifted her chin with my forefinger. A thumb-sized bruise was above the carotid. “No, you have nothing to be sorry about.”

“All the same, please tell Drea and everybody I wish today’d gone down different.”

“I will.”

Travis led me around a corner to a small conference room, where Terry and Rafael were already seated on one side of a rectangular table. It was rare to find Terry in a jacket and tie and Rafael without them, but more surprising was seeing Pete beside Rafael