Come Sundown(163)
Then nothing.
She saw, horribly, she saw Clintok’s finger pull the trigger. One, twice, a third time.
And nothing.
The baffled look on his face might have been funny if the ground hadn’t undulated under her feet. As it did, Callen strode over it. The roundhouse was pure fury, sent Clintok flying back before he landed. And stayed down.
“You could’ve hit my woman, you miserable son of a bitch.”
He picked up the gun, checked it. “Empty.”
“Rory figured he had one in his truck.” Pale but game, Chelsea gripped Rory’s arm. “So he checked.”
“A good salesman reads people.” Moving easy, Rory walked to Callen, took the gun. “So I unloaded it.”
“I owe you.”
“Not a thing, but I’ll take that drink.”
Callen glanced back at Clintok, not just down, he noted, but out. “We’ve got to do something about that.”
“I’ve done it.” Holding up her phone, Jessica stepped back outside. “The sheriff’s on his way.”
“Oh, now, Jessie, why’d you go and do that?”
She only gaped at Callen. “Why? He tried to kill you.”
“She’s right.” Chase reached out, drew her to his side. “I know how you feel, but she’s right.”
“She’s damn right.” It took all Bodine’s willpower not to simply explode. “If Rory didn’t have more sense than I’ve ever given him credit for, you’d be dead or close enough. He’s not just an asshole, he’s a crazy asshole. He’s not just a coward, he’s a murdering—”
Because he heard touches of hysteria, Callen moved to her, took her arms. “Okay. Okay. You probably want to take a breath or two.”
“Don’t tell me to take a breath.”
“Or two.” He kissed her, said, “Shit,” when the contact stung, then leaned in to whisper. “Don’t cry. You’ll hate yourself.”
“I’m fine.”
“Drinks all around,” Callen told the bartender while he kept his eyes on Bodine’s. “I’m good for it.”
“You’d better be.” With a last look at Clintok, the bartender slapped his bat against his palm again. “He got what was coming to him.”
* * *
Maybe so, but clearly Tate didn’t look pleased when he pulled up some twenty minutes later.
He looked at Clintok, sitting on the ground, his hands secured behind his back with a zip tie, his face bloody. Looked over at Callen, leaning against the wall of the bar, sipping a beer along with Bodine, her brothers, and the other women.
He crouched down beside Clintok. “I told you to steer clear.”
“I was having a drink, and he busted in with his goddamn posse and started it.”
“And you decided to finish it by pulling a gun?”
“Wouldn’t have had to if you’d done your job and locked that murdering bastard up.”
“I’ve done my job right along, just like I’m going to do it now. You busted your bail carrying a gun in the first damn place. Curtis, lock him up in the back, and we’ll take some statements, see what the hell’s what here.”
He walked over to Callen. “Told you to steer clear, too, didn’t I?”
“We all decided to go out and have a drink,” Bodine said. “We wanted to show Jessica some more of the local color.”
After a long stare, Tate scrubbed his face with his hand. “Bodine, that’s just insulting.”
“It’s not altogether untrue,” Callen put in. “But it’s also true I knew Clintok would probably be here, and it was surely true I planned to knock him on his ass.”
“I could toss you in the back with him, charge you with assault.”
“Well now, you could.” Studying his beer, Chase spoke thoughtfully. “It’s not going to stick real well seeing as Clintok threw the first punch, then went for his gun. You can ask the bunch in there if that’s how it went down, and when you talk to Sandy Rhimes, he’ll be sure to tell you he pulled Clintok’s gun—the one he had on him—away from him before he could use it.”
“Miss Baazov said Clintok had a gun aimed at Callen outside.”
“He got that one out of his truck after Callen beat him in a fair fight. I unloaded that one,” Rory added. “I had to figure he had one in his truck, and since he’d already shot Callen once, tried to do the same again inside, it seemed prudent to take that precaution.”
Now Tate used both hands to scrub at his face. “Jesus suffering Christ.”
“You forgot about the broken glass. He smashed a bottle,” Chelsea continued, “charged at Cal with it. He didn’t fight fair till he had to, and even then.”