"I feel a little bad about that."
"No, you don't."
I smiled. "Okay, you're right. I don't." I took his empty cup and stood. "How was the milkshake?"
"Excellent. I believe the last time I had one, I was five. The elders would buy them for me when I ran errands."
"They stopped when you were five?"
"No, I was five when I realized the shakes were, essentially, empty calories, and I could ask for something more nutritionally substantial." He leaned back on the bench. "Until I was eight and asked for money in lieu."
I laughed as I took away the trash, but the laugh was for his benefit, and as soon as my back was to him, I was no longer smiling. I was thinking of a five-year-old boy, telling the elders he'd prefer something more nutritious than milkshakes. I imagined them smiling and humoring him and, yes, kids go through those phases, when they learn that something isn't good for them and resolve to make better choices. But if a five-year-old voluntarily rejects sweets to eat healthy and then starts asking for the money instead, at some point you have to realize something is wrong. Seriously wrong. Like maybe he's asking because he damned well needs the decent food he's not getting at home. The elders should have figured out--
Behind me, pavement scraped underfoot. I turned to see Gabriel rising.
"Olivia?" he said, his voice perfectly calm, his gaze fixed on a stand of trees. "Your purse?"
I threw the trash into the bin with one hand and pulled my gun from my purse with the other. My attention--like his--never left those trees. Then Gabriel's swung to a brick pavilion. He started toward it at a slow lope. I covered him, breaking into a jog when he disappeared around the wall.
At a thump and a gasp, I was running, ignoring the pain shooting through my side. I saw Gabriel swing at a dark figure. Movement flickered behind him, but before I could call a warning, he'd knocked his target aside and was turning to the new threat. By the time I arrived, he had the second assailant pinned to the pavilion wall. The first was still on the ground, struggling for breath and holding his stomach.
The man on the ground wobbled to his feet. Gabriel let him. Then, without releasing his grip on the other assailant, he clocked the first guy, dropping him again.
The figure pinned to the wall was the man from Monday night, the one who'd pursued Aunika and me.
"If you have your switchblade, you might want to use it on that one." Gabriel nodded toward the man on the ground. "Preferably in his right side."
"He's the one who stabbed me?"
"Yes."
"You can't intimidate me, Walsh," the man said, rubbing his jaw.
"Intimidation suggests no intention of follow-through. I'd be quite happy to see Olivia stab you in retaliation. In fact, if I thought she'd do it, I'd insist. However, barring that..." Gabriel turned as the man rose again, and then kicked him in the gut so hard the man howled as he fell back.
"You--you bastard. I think you broke something."
"The correct term would be 'ruptured.' I'd strongly suggest you seek medical attention when you leave." He turned to the man he had pinned to the wall. "Who hired you?"
"Hired us? No one--"
"You are a gun for hire. Or muscle for hire, given that you don't actually seem to have a gun. Which is odd, suggesting that's a stipulation by the man who hired you. Who is also, presumably, the one who tried to stop your colleague here from attacking Olivia."
"I don't know what--"
"Let me go slower, then. You are hired muscle. A mercenary, to use the proper term. Former military, judging by that tattoo and your bearing. You've slipped a little in your grooming and your mannerisms, which tells me you've been out of the service for a while yet still try to maintain the lifestyle to project a military image for your clients. Ergo, mercenary."
"Who the fuck are you? Sherlock Holmes?"
Gabriel's lips twitched at that. He nodded to me, letting the actual detective take over.
"As for the gun stipulation," I said. "You're clearly more accustomed to using weapons than brute force, given how easily you were both rousted. That suggests the absence of a gun isn't your choice. Which also suggests you weren't hired to hurt Aunika. Just scare her. That goes for anyone else you encounter in executing those duties. Like me. You seemed to think Aunika knew why you were after her. But when she asked, you wouldn't tell her. What was the point of that?"
"You're the clever one. I'm sure you have an answer."
"You don't know why you're targeting her. Men like you don't need reasons. Even if your boss told you, I don't think you're bright enough to remember it."
"I'm sure my IQ is higher than yours, blondie. I don't want details for security reasons. The less we know, the better. The client told us that Madole knows exactly what's going on. She's just playing dumb. We're supposed to scare her until she breaks and does what the client wants."