Page 30 of Benny

Sergeant Gates asked a few more general questions, then thanked her for her time.

When he logged off, Jordan stared at the screen. “That was easier than I thought.” She looked genuinely puzzled.

Benny had been thinking the same thing while listening to Gates’s questions, and he had a theory. “Everything outside is on video, right? Including the exterior of the door showing Undersheriff Jones bringing Turner inside?”

She nodded.

“So that part is indisputable. From what you’ve told me, Turner was on leave because of what happened with Beth, right?”

Another nod.

“Then he had no official reason to be there. He came inside and immediately drew on Tate. You have multiple witnesses corroborating that, plus whatever the cameras caught.” Benny sat back. “I think this was a formality. I think the Marshal Service has every reason to make this go away as quickly and quietly as possible. One of their own people showed up somewhere he had no business being and opened fire. If they push too hard on you and Abel, somebody starts asking why Turner was there in the first place. Then they start digging into what he did to Beth and why he was on leave.” He shook his head. “That turns into a media shitstorm fast. My guess? They’d rather close the book on Turner and give the press something else to chase.”

Benny stopped. He’d surprised himself with how easily the analysis had come. But then he thought back to what they’d endured after the crash. The media scrutiny that had never seemed to stop.

Jordan and Clay being removed from the jobs they loved. Cali apparently being shifted into training rather than active missions. All of them becoming faces the Air Force would have preferred the public eventually forget.

Yeah, he understood exactly why the government would want to keep an ugly situation quiet.

“I hope you’re right,” Jordan said. “But the fact of the matter is, I still have a bounty on my head. That has nothing to do with Turner being killed and everything to do with Benedict splashing my face across the news. I’ll never be able to go undercover again.”

Oh, hell, Benny hadn’t even considered that. “Were you good at it? I remember when you were active duty, you were a Phoenix Raven, but you didn’t do stuff like that.” Ravens were some of the best Security Forces had, but undercover work was more OSI’s territory.

She nodded. “I was good at it, just like I was good at being a Phoenix Raven.”

She said it matter-of-factly, with no real pride in her tone. Just knowledge of her own abilities. “I’ll be good at something else, even if I have to go into corporate security or work for St. Michael’s full time.” She took a breath and slowly let it out. “But now that that’s over, let’s talk about the text I got right before Gates called for the interview.”

Something in her tone put Benny on alert.

“The people who hurt you want an autopsy.”

Benny stiffened. They’d known that was a potential outcome. Hell, they’d talked about it. But hearing it stated so baldly, a few days after he’d risen from the dead, was still a shock to the system.

“Davenport’s got it covered. Or at least that’s what he says.” Jordan’s expression turned sober. “But we both still have targets on our backs, and we need to act accordingly.”

They sure as hell did.

Benny desperately needed more sleep, he concluded as a yawn felt like it split his face in half.

As a medic, he knew his body was still recovering from whatever they’d done to him, so healthy food and lots of rest were the things that would make him, if not whole again, at least more functional. He had the sinking feeling he was going to need to be in tip-top shape sooner rather than later.

He and Jordan hadn’t had much to say after she’d hung up with IA, both of them too busy with their own thoughts. But it hadn’t been an awkward silence. It had been almost like yesterday at the penthouse, when he’d started catching up on everything he’d missed while she’d quietly done her work.

He wondered if that was what it had been like between them. The comfort of knowing exactly who you were with someone, with no pressure to fill the silence or be someone else.

It sounded like heaven to him, and just as unattainable, since he had no idea who he was anymore.

When he begged off to catch an afternoon nap, Jordan gave him a nod and went back to work on her laptop. She’d said something about vetting people who’d applied to St. Michael’s for assistance, and he understood the need to keep busy, especially with everything going on.

He left her to it, returned to his room and stripped, then slid between the sheets, the cotton crisp and cool against his overheated body. It seemed like every time he ate, his body turned into a raging inferno. Probably his metabolism going into overdrive as his body tried to repair itself.

He’d have to think about that later though, because sleep was already dragging him under.

As he faded, he heard Jordan having a very serious, very quiet conversation with their cat.

~

Jordan moved from the kitchen table and over to the living room, sinking into a comfortable easy chair. Spot followed, curling into her lap and Jordan stroked her absently as she stared into space.