School of Fish (Fish Out of Water #6) - Amy Lane Page 0,84

night, and besides a dog barking and some asshole setting off what people think are explosives in his garage on the far side of town, there is nothing in the entire city that caught people’s attention besides that party.”

“So whatever it was, it must have flown under the radar pretty far,” Ellery said. “And if it was that far under the radar, why—”

“Why call attention to it with the distraction. Yes.” Galen nodded. “So you may have to revise the theory for that one. And there’s one more thing.”

Ellery nodded, thoroughly intrigued. “Go on.”

“When AJ was looking for police calls, he started with the live feed from just this moment.”

Ellery’s eyes widened. “And…?”

“And weren’t our boys supposed to visit Capitol Valley High today?”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. There were shots fired about ten minutes ago.”

Ellery was already on his feet when his phone practically tried to buzz across the table. He scooped it up off the desk, his heart dropping out of his chest in relief when he saw who was calling.

“Goddammit, Jackson!”

“I’m fine. Keep your socks on.” Jackson sounded a little out of breath but, as he said, fine.

“I’m on my way,” Ellery said into the phone, and then he glared at Galen. “You and me,” he said succinctly, “are going to have to have a little talk about burying the motherfucking lede.”

“There were no casualties at the scene,” Galen replied mildly.

“That doesn’t mean there’s not blood on the ground!” Ellery took off through the door. “Jackson, stay put—”

“As it turns out, we sort of have to,” Jackson said, just as Galen pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Goddammit,” he muttered, his voice sharp enough to actually slow Ellery down.

“What?” he demanded, pretty much from both of them.

And as Jackson’s voice registered on the phone, Galen held up a picture that had obviously been texted to him by Henry.

“Somebody shot up John’s goddamned car.”

Ellery scrubbed at his face with his hand. “Oh my God.”

“I swear to God,” Jackson said earnestly, “neither of us was in it at the time.”

Ellery’s heart was thundering in his ears. “You’re going to give me a heart attack,” he said, totally and completely serious.

“Well, if you could hold off until you pick us up?” Jackson said, voice conciliatory. “Henry would take it as a personal favor.”

Ellery ran his hand through his hair, breaking the gel that held it back and not caring.

“Ten minutes,” he said, thinking about traffic. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Ellery,” Jackson replied with uncharacteristic humility. “We appreciate it.”

Ellery’s eyes narrowed. “Jackson, is there anything else I should kn—”

“The paramedics should be done stitching up my ass by the time you get here.”

And that’s when Ellery hung up on him.

“Jade,” he said, his voice high and tight with tension. “Jade, did you drive today?”

“Yes…?” She obviously knew something was up.

“Could you, perchance, give Galen a ride home if we’re not back by six?”

“Sure.” Jade took a breath. “He’s all right?”

And Ellery had to mirror her, or he was going to explode. “He said he’s getting stitches from the EMTs on scene.”

“Of course he is.” She nodded. “It’s been nice, these last months, not having to worry. Guess that can’t last forever.”

Her look of sincere sympathy actually helped him pull himself together.

“Hey,” he said. “This time he told me before I had to see the bandages. That’s progress.”

And her surprised smile did the rest. “Damn, it’s practically a whole new Jackson! But he’s still bleeding a little, which I guess is okay, because we loved the old one too.”

And Ellery laughed, the band around his chest loosening enough for him to hear the exact echo of words he’d said to Jackson not more than two weeks earlier.

“Yes, we did. Both of them. I’m going to go pick them up and see where we go from here.” He paused and then turned back into his office. “And I’m going to take a minute to get my briefcase, just in case it’s home.”

Well, it was three in the afternoon. By the time they were done with the police, who knew?

THE EMERGENCY vehicles were still there in force. As well as, Ellery was happy to see, a forensics team.

Jackson was leaning over the back of the ambulance, posterior out, as an EMT—this one a dark-haired, thirtyish woman of Asian descent—finished taping a bandage to the outside of his upper thigh, with a little bit of tape on the buttcheek. He was still wearing what was left of a brand-new pair of cargo shorts. The back of