Turner straightened his tie and prepared to go on the news for what must have been the millionth time since the tornado. This time, it was an officer-involved shooting.
Three blocks north of where Annie lived. Turner hadn’t been able to forget that part. She might have even heard the gunshots, if she’d been home.
Turner’s driver, Officer Eugent once again, got him as close as he could. He didn’t need a driver; Turner knew that without a doubt. But Elliot was insisting.
For Turner’s safety. Elliot was being overly cautious.
He, Elliot, the governor, and four other officials in Barratt County and Finley Creek County had received threats since the storm. Elliot couldn’t justify guards at this point—the threats had been vague, and not that uncommon in their positions. But Turner was supposed to keep his eyes open.
Turner had agreed to Officer Eugent for a few more days. Fortunately, the younger man had healed from the injuries from the storm. He’d arrived to pick Turner up before Turner had even known something had happened.
Elliot was damned good at his job.
“What do we know?” Turner asked.
“I’m not sure. There’s a community center there.”
Turner’s phone rang. Elliot. He grabbed it quickly.
“You might want to get to the hospital. Talk to the head of Major Crimes. Daniel McKellen. There are idiots rumbling on social media that it was an unjust shooting by Royce. We need to break that down before we have larger problems.”
Turner asked the question first, just to get it out of the way. “Was it?”
“Bodycam shows the asshole came at Officer Royce when she stepped out of her patrol car. He sideswiped her to begin with. He was armed with a pipe and a handgun. And he outweighed her by eighty pounds. And that asshole shot first. Nothing unjust about it.”
“We know why he attacked yet?”
“More stolen supplies were in his truck. To the tune of twenty thousand dollars or more of products. Medications and supplies for the clinics to give out to those who were displaced by the storm.”
Turner swore. “How are they getting to the supplies in the first place?”
“That’s the million-dollar question.”
Turner could see the hospital in the distance—his temporary office wasn’t that far away. “I’ll be at the hospital in about five minutes.”