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Sven looked like he would rather be anywhere but there. And the kid looked like he wanted to throw up as he darted glances between Sven, myself, and Atticus.
"Don't worry about them. The big Viking is paid to look annoyed. And my husband… that's just his normal face."
I could tell in the twitch of Atticus's nose that he was tempted to laugh, but he was perhaps too irritated with me in the moment. As for Sven, he was just maintaining his Viking composure.
"What do you want with me?" The kid fidgeted, and I could tell he did not want to be seen with us. Or he was tweaking. Maybe both.
"Look, a few weeks ago there was a shooting in front of the Park Tower."
His face paled. "I had nothing to do with that. It wasn't me. I-I don't even know how to shoot. I’ve never held a gun."
Sven stepped forward, and I planted my hand on his chest. The big Swede stopped, but I doubt it was because I was strong. It was because my husband was growling next to him.
"Both of you, shut it." I turned back to the kid. "You're not in trouble. No one thinks you shot anyone. Technically, me." I indicated my shoulder. "I took a bullet."
The kid's eyes widened in what could only be described as awe. "I didn't shoot you."
"I know that. But I think you saw who did."
"Look, I don't know nothin' about nothin'. I just want to go home. I just want to be left alone."
This time, Atticus did step forward. "Tell my wife what she wants to know."
That little shiver that always skipped down my spine when he said 'my wife' did its thing, and I thought it was a very inappropriate time for his voice to be doing those things to me.
"My husband is just very particular about me getting shot. Just tell us what you know."
The kid shifted his gaze to Sven, avoiding eye contact with Atticus, who was inching closer the more he looked at me. "I-I've seen him around town. He climbed into a car after looking at the building and then headed down the street. Later I saw him hanging around the lobby of an office building nearby. I always notice when he's there because I go to the doughnut shop to see this girl I want to ask out."
Atticus gave him a steady-eyed glower that said, Get on with it.
"That lobby is crazy busy. Everyone is in suits and stuff, you know? So that guy stood out. He just sat quietly in the window, staring at the building across the street. I saw him again two weeks later. Never thought anything of it. Even the night of the shooting, I didn't know he was up to no good.”
Atticus’s voice was low and full of gravel. “What were you doing there?”
The kid shrugged. “I sometimes go up in the building, you know? Like me and my friends would just go and fuck around there, smoke and shit."
Before Atticus could throttle the kid, I stepped in. "You’re not in trouble. We just need you to tell us what you know."
The kid swallowed hard. "Anyway, he approached me and asked if I knew a way in this building. He gave me a hundred bucks, so I showed him.”
My heart hammered in my chest. "Did you get a good look at him? Like really good? You've seen him in the light, right?"
The kid blinked rapidly, a small frown marring his forehead as if he just realized the man he’d told us about was dangerous. "But like, if you're telling me he's the shooter, then he knows my face too."
"He won't come for you. He's not looking for you. He is looking for me," I whispered.
“Shit. I never should have narced.” He tried to wiggle out of my hold. He swallowed hard as he glanced at Atticus who growled low. “Let me go. I saw nothing.”
"I’ve seen your face, and I promise you I am far more dangerous than that shooter."
The kid's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and his pupils were pin pricks in his blue-gray eyes. "Yeah, of course… I did see him. But it's not like I have a picture or anything. Can't you get his image off the camera? In the coffeeshop across the street from the building?"
The kid had a point. We didn't know who we were looking for.
Atticus nodded. "We're done here."
Sven held the kid's jacket out to him as if we'd been having a very lovely exchange and now he was leaving.
