Michael heard him breathe in deeply, calming himself. “You couldn’t have known. You may have to prepare for reprisals if the attack is connected to you. Some people won’t like it.” Michael had no idea what Bliss was talking about. His father wanted everyone involved in Jonny Lee’s death wiped from the face of the earth. How things were done elsewhere was of no consequence to him. He was interested only in the end result. He waited for Bliss to continue. “Call your men back from the city,” said Bliss, and now he sounded weary. “All of them. Do you understand?” “They’re already on their way.” “Good. Who fired the shots?” “I don’t think that—” “I asked you a question.” “Benton. Benton fired the shots.” “Benton,” said Bliss, seemingly committing the name to memory, and Michael wondered if he had somehow condemned Benton by naming him. “When are you coming up here?” “Soon,” said Bliss, “soon…” CHAPTER TWELVE LOUIS STARED DOWN AT the man on the bed.
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