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reporting job of her budding career.

Chapter 11
    R eece focused on the target , the gun in his hand surprisingly light. He shifted it to his other hand. It felt good to hold it, and he wondered if he would ever be a crack shot like his old man. He shifted the weapon back to his right hand, added his left for support, and fixed his eyes on the target Dad had racked up at the end of the shooting range.
    “Light em up, son!” his father shouted. He could barely hear him through the earmuffs but he nodded. Hudson Senior was the spitting image of Reece, with the same dark eyes and handsome features, only his face now lined and his hair the color of snow. And in spite of his recent health scare he was still strong as an ox, or so he told everyone who cared to listen.
    His face twisted in concentration, Reece took careful aim and leveled the gun the way Dad had taught him years before. He wondered if he could still hit a target from this distance. On set, it was easy. He could handle dummy weapons like an expert, and fire those fake bullets like nobody’s business. But in real life? He was a pretty lousy shot.
    Not that he ever told anyone. He made a living as an action hero, and it simply wouldn’t do to burst that bubble. His young fans would be devastated.
    “Come on, son. Quit stalling!” his dad’s voice boomed in his ear.
    With a deep frown he squeezed off the first shot and in quick succession fired five more.
    He stepped back while his father punched a button and the cardboard target swung into view. His face fell. The outline was pristine. Not a single hit.
    “Looks like you lost your touch,” said his dad with a chuckle. “Or don’t they have shooting ranges in LA?”
    “Nope. Us action heroes shoot CGI bullets only.”
    “A lot more effective,” Dad agreed, then took the gun from his hand. “Looks like I’m gonna have to teach you to shoot all over again.”
    “Don’t bother, Dad. It’s not as if I really need it.”
    “Sure you do. Whatever you do in life, knowing how to defend yourself is a skill that always comes in handy.”
    They’d had this discussion before and Reece decided not to get into it today. “Whatever you say, Dad.”
    The old man slipped the earmuffs into place, took aim, and fired off six rounds in quick succession. This time Reece could see the target twitch with every hit. And when finally it drew within viewing distance, he saw that six shots were grouped around the heart.
    Dad emitted a satisfied grunt. “That’s the way to do it,” he grumbled before handing the gun back to his son. “Now reload and do it again.”
    And without waiting for his son’s agreement, he trudged off.
    Reece sighed and sighted his father with the gun, firing an imaginary bullet at the back of the old man’s head.
    “And don’t you go pointing that thing at me now, you hear!” Dad yelled. “Yeah, I’ve got eyes in the back of my head!”
    Surprised, Reece lowered the weapon. He was starting to realize it hadn’t been such a bad idea to leave Dorothy at home for the introductory meeting. He had the distinct impression Dad wouldn’t like his new fiancée any more than she would like him.

Chapter 12
    G ratified , Felicity closed her notebook and thanked Virgil for his time. So far all she had were bits and pieces of information, but then Virgil didn’t seem to have anything more to share.
    “Who’s leading the investigation?” she asked.
    The tall policeman scratched his scalp. “Good question. I guess Chief Whitehouse will run point on this one, seeing as I only ever took detective training but never got to, um, practice. Heck, I’m just a regular cop, Fe, you know that. I’ve never solved a murder in my life.”
    She nodded. She did know that, but it didn’t hurt to ask. She was wearing her reporter cap now and reporters, Rick had told her, only dealt with facts, not suppositions and, um…well, the other thing.
    It was weird, she decided, that in spite of the fact that her heart