27
Channing
“It’s not your fault, Channing.”
I heard the words. I’d been there myself. I knew what had happened. The cops knew what had happened. Detective Miller said ballistics would back me up too, along with the eight other witnesses in the room.
It still didn’t ease the dread in my gut.
Traverse leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “The i***t drew his gun on you, tripped, and shot himself in the head. He literally shot himself. You have nothing to be feel bad about.”
I grunted. “You’re right. Except that one of Richter’s guys is dead because of me. He won’t give a damn if it was indirect or not. I scared him. He pulled a gun, and he’s dead. That’s all Richter will care about, and you know it.”
That shut him up.
We were sitting in the back section of Manny’s. Heathe
