Second Shot

He introduced Simone to the two staff members, Jay and Kevin, who were behind the long counter. They both had the air of college kids — alert and respectful-and they called everybody sir and ma’am like their lives depended on it.

I was half-surprised that Vaughan didn’t appear as soon as we arrived, but no doubt he was lurking somewhere in the background. Out of habit, I noted the location and the number of security cameras and guessed that he was probably well aware of our arrival. And if he was watching us, there was no point in giving him the satisfaction of looking on edge.

Rosalind murmured her excuses and disappeared into one of the offices behind the counter, leaving her husband to show Simone their inventory with a bullish pride. They certainly seemed to be doing well out of army boots, tents, camping equipment, camouflage sleeping bags, flying suits and mess tins. I strolled in their wake, casually running my fingers over the occasional item, some more familiar than others. It all even had its own distinctive smell that stirred a lot of memories-not many of them good.

The display area only took up part of the footprint of the building, and it was no surprise when Lucas led us through a doorway marked “Staff Only: No Unauthorized Entry” at the back and into a large racked-out stockroom.

The room was lit by fluorescent tubes strung across the steel rafters above, which left darkened alleyways between the high racks. Ella, not at her bravest in the dark, gave a little whimper and buried her face in Simone’s chest.

Lined up along one wall were rows of heavy-duty gun safes. Simone eyed them with distrust as we walked through, and I noticed she kept Ella’s head turned the other way.

What had they talked about this morning, I wondered, that had changed Simone’s mind about bringing Ella into contact with firearms? True, you couldn’t see any, but they were practically close enough to touch. I could smell the gun oil, a sharp, pervasive odor. And there was something more. Cordite and gunpowder.

“You have a range here?” I said, making a question of it, even though I hardly needed an answer.

Lucas paused and nodded. “Just two-lane-twenty-five yards,” he said. “Handguns only. If we want to fire anything bigger, we have to go elsewhere.”

“I thought you said you didn’t deal in guns,” I said.

“It’s not the main thrust of my business,” Lucas said, sidestepping.

“But it is a part of it,” said a new voice — in a deep cold tone that I recognized instantly. “Didn’t you tell the ladies that, Lucas?”

Vaughan stepped into view from between two of the racks just ahead of us, making an entrance. He smiled at Simone’s shocked face. I checked no one was coming up on our rear, then moved alongside her. Vaughan watched me do it and nodded, as though he’d been expecting that.

Lucas hadn’t replied to Vaughan’s taunt. He seemed to have coiled back in on himself, like he’d done the day before when Vaughan had sat in his house and made his not-so-veiled threats towards Simone. Now, in the gloom of the stockroom, I thought I saw Lucas’s hands clench just briefly by his sides and realized that maybe his feelings towards the other man weren’t quite as ambivalent as first impressions had suggested.

Lucas cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect to see you here today, Felix,” he said at last, and there was nothing more than polite inquiry in his voice.

Vaughan eyed him for a moment, as if making sure. “No, I thought I’d come and put in some practice on the range. Care to join me?” he said lightly “The British SAS versus the U.S. Marines. We could put a little money on it-make things more interesting.”

Lucas looked uncomfortable now. Sean had told me the man had been a first-class shot, but that was twenty-five years ago. Was he still up to the same standard? I supposed that he wouldn’t have let himself slide too far. Not if he was part owner of a business that dealt in firearms regularly enough to have its own range — despite his denials to Simone. Vanity alone would have kept him sharp. So why the hesitation?

Then I glanced at Simone and found her gaze fixed on him, her mouth a thin flattened line. She didn’t like guns-had made that fact pretty plain to Lucas. Maybe Vaughan knew that, too, or maybe he was guessing. Maybe he’d decided there were ways other than subtle threats of getting Simone to pack up and go home.

Vaughan’s washed-out gaze drifted in my direction.

“What about you, Miss Fox?” he said, his voice a slow taunt. “Ever held a weapon?”

I gave him a vague smile and didn’t answer. There wasn’t one he couldn’t distort with innuendo.

“Personally,” he went on, “I never approved of women in the military being given firearms training. Waste of time and money” He stared at me again. “Oh, I suppose they have their place in the modern military machine-medics, drivers, cooks, even mechanics-but why waste time giving them a gun and teaching them how to use it when they just don’t have the guts for it.”