Doubled Down Deadly

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER THREE

"Awww, crap," said DS Marion Hartz when she heard Graham's voice on her phone. "I'm heading your way. I wanted it to be a surprise."

"I have one for you."

"One what, big boy?" she asked.

"A surprise." Graham paused. "But you go first."

"I up here. About twenty klicks away from you, at the Beausoleil Hotel. I was going to drop in after the gig."

"What gig?"

"Prince Harry and Meghan are here. I volunteered for VIP protection when I heard where they were going. See how much I love you."

Graham smiled. She was brightening his whole day. Until he remembered the reason for his call. He told her in a few brief sentences that glossed over the fact he came close to taking a shotgun load in his body.

"Did you call the OPP?" Marion was referring to the Ontario Provincial Police that patrolled the area of Georgian Bay that contained Shield Island.

"No, not yet. We both know why the diver was in that area and it's a national security thing. Isn't that your bailiwick?"

"You're right, smart guy." She suddenly perked up. "Hey, now we have a reason for me to duck out of here early and come over there to investigate the hell out of your little boat trip." She paused for a moment. "Everything's copesetic here. All quiet on the ..."

Graham heard several loud bangs and a yell. It wasn't Marion's voice.

"Marion. Marion." He yelled into the phone. "What the hell is happening? Are you okay?"

There were more noises over the phone. Another shout, sounds of her phone being scraped against something, another loud bang. "Marion." Graham's voice grew frantic.

"Graham..." Marion's voice was rushed but in control. "I'm okay. I'm fine but..." There was the sound of running and someone panting. "I'm checking on Harry and Meg." Marion had her cell clipped to her vest so she could talk as she worked.

Carde could do nothing but hang on the edge as he waited for Marion to speak again.

"Thank Christ," she said finally. She sounded like she had been the runner. She was catching her breath.

"What happened?"

Between gasps for breath and hurried conversations with others on her security detail, Marion filled Graham in.

"Someone tried to shoot the prince and his wife. They couldn't get them in their sights. Some of our people hustled the royals out of the way and we grabbed one of the shooters. We think there are two others and they may have gotten away."

"Are you okay?" Graham was still worried.

"Yeah, fine. No holes ..." There was a hesitation as Marion remembered Graham's own adventure that day. "Just like you. We're both lucky."

"How's the shooter?"

"He took one in the arm and one in the leg. But, he'll live. Hopefully, he'll also talk to us."

"Looks like you'll be tied up for a while. Why don't I come over. I promise not to get in your way." Graham was already reaching for a jacket from his closet.

"Let me think. Yeah, why the hell not? See you soon." Marion disconnected and Graham followed suit, dropping his phone into his jacket pocket.

It took him less than 25 minutes to get from Shield Island to Beausoleil Hotel in his pickup truck. The hotel was named for both the Beausoleil First Nation territory, occupied by the Chippewa on three large islands at the southern end of Georgian Bay, and Beausoleil Island, one of the larger islands on the Bay.