excuse.” He had to see that. She needed to know Ben understood that.
“We have medical supplies upstairs,” Davis said.
Guns in the house, a safe room and football-stadium lights in the backyard. These guys were prepared for anything. “Of course you do.”
“You know,” Davis said, “it might not be bad to have a nurse around here.”
Because that was what she wanted to do on her day off. Sew up this crew. “You guys need one a lot?”
Ben nodded. “More than you’d want.”
And that was what scared her.
* * *
L ITTLE MORE THAN a half hour later, most of the crowd had cleared out of the house. Police officers still wandered around the yard, and more than one neighbor came to bang on the door and complain about the lights only to get turned around by Davis. Not many people crossed him.
Ben watched the cars pull away, then walked through the house to the back porch. He stood there and rolled his shoulders back, trying to ease the stiffness working its way through him.
Big mistake. His muscles had locked up but the aches settled in. He winced in pain as the bullet graze on his shoulder burned.
He wanted to let out a shout but kept his voice low because Jocelyn was right inside cleaning up. Though he wouldn’t mind having her stand close and run her hands over him again, the last thing he needed was her rushing out and ordering him to bed. For rest.
But, man, he’d enjoyed watching her work. She turned bossy and took control, which was interesting, since Joel usually handled the minor medical stuff.
Between the two of them, Ben had stitches and bandages and a pocketful of painkillers. As a combined force, they would be hard to duck. If they thought you needed medical attention, you were going to get it.
He debated going inside and seeing if he could get Jocelyn to touch him again when Connor and Detective Willoughby headed up the backyard from the garage. Willoughby talked and Connor nodded his head. That usually meant Connor was collecting information, not giving it.
Once they hit the back porch, Connor broke the silence. “There was no identification on the dead guy.”
“Figures.” Ben wasn’t surprised. The team rarely got that lucky.
If he had to guess, he’d say the attackers were professionals. Hired guns. That made it more and more likely he was the target, and all the blame for the deaths and injuries fell on him. He endangered Jocelyn. The realization hollowed him out.
“Gotta say, I’ve had better nights.” Connor blew out a long breath. “Would have made things easier if we found a license.”
The detective’s gaze, wary and a bit defensive, traveled between Ben and Connor. “Anything you two want to tell me?”
Ben had loads of questions, and once he’d finished sizing the detective up, he might ask a few. Until then, he could only go on what he could see. Fortysomething and smooth. Maybe a bit too slick. If this Glenn had once been a beat cop, those days were long behind him. He looked more like television’s idea of a detective. Dress pants and a gold watch. Made Ben wonder what kind of car he drove.
He made a mental note to have Joel run a check. “Like what?”
“I’ve been on the job for three months and despite your business’s reputation and yours—” the detective shot Ben a quick look “—I’ve never met any of you until tonight, and now I’ve seen you twice in a few hours.”
Connor screwed up his lips. “Weird how life works.”
“Suspect,” the detective said. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”
Something they had in common. Neither did Ben. “They happen.”
“I’m going to need statements from everyone in the house. They answered some questions, but we’re not done here.”
If the guy planned to make his career on this case, Ben vowed to shut it down. He already had reporters looking to him for the next headline and former NCIS friends who wouldn’t take his calls. He vacillated between being invisible and being infamous, and he