by Quinn Avery
“I had to get his attention,” the baritone voice replied. “She wasn’t supposed to die. Killing women and children isn’t my thing.”
“Well you’ll have to come up with a foolproof plan. Hawkins is smarter than the other Coasties involved. He brought down my team in Iowa before we had a chance to take Welder out. And now that he got that nosy investigator involved—”
“Do not stand there and tell me you’re backing down because of a gun-toting Barbie!”
That’s something I haven’t been called before, Bexley thought to herself. Barbie as in oddly flexible with great hair?
“She’s more clever than you think,” the deeper voice answered.
“Nonsense! Bexley Squires is completely harmless and incompetent! You wouldn’t be standing here as a free man if that weren’t true!”
“Rude,” Bexley breathed.
“It’s your fault for not taking her and that detective of yours out months ago,” the deeper voice grumbled. “If he still can’t be persuaded to switch sides after all these years, then it’s time to get rid of him!”
A lump rose in Bexley’s throat. That detective of yours.
“Rivers is too good at his job!” the baritone voice snapped. “If I don’t have a valid reason to fire him, it’ll raise all kinds of red flags! We can’t afford that kind of attention!”
“So create a valid reason! Either that, or stage an accident! Rig his car! Hire a convict to shoot him! I don’t care how you do it—just make him and Squires disappear! I don’t understand why she isn’t gone by now either! We aren’t going to get to Hawkins and his remaining crew until she’s out of the picture, and we can’t afford to be linked to the drugs! If the cartel doesn’t make good on their threats to clean up the mess we’ve made—including the two of us—we’ll both end up in prison for the rest of our lives!”
That’s the money shot, Bexley thought.
Anger clenched her chest as she stormed toward the back door. She first spotted the tall, gaunt mayor lingering behind the same elaborate bar where Dean Halliwell once served her champaign. It didn’t faze Bexley in the slightest to see him with her own eyes since she’d recently learned he’d purchased the property, and she’d suspected his involvement since the beginning.
What shook her to the core was the overweight man standing on the other side of the bar, across from the mayor.
The one with the baritone voice.
Grayson’s boss.
20
“Lieutenant Baker?” Bexley blurted.
When his eyes met hers, the lieutenant’s jaw clenched and his gaze narrowed.
Mayor Hoffman snarled, “How in the hell did you get in here?”
“The gig is up, gentlemen.” Bexley squared her shoulders and stood taller, drawing courage from the fact that J.J. and Brewer believed in her. “This gun-toting Barbie caught you red handed this time.”
Lieutenant Baker held the palms of his hands upright in a peaceful gesture. “I don’t know what you think you heard—”
“Grayson always suspected you were being influenced by someone outside of the force,” Bexley interrupted with a shake of her head, “but I don’t ever think he ever imagined you’d be in charge of something so diabolical and corrupt.”
“And what exactly is it you think I’ve done?” the lieutenant challenged, raising an eyebrow.
“Drug trafficking, federal embezzlement, murder, kidnapping, attempted murder…and that’s only the start. I’m not an attorney, so you’ll have to give me a minute to make the complete list.”
In the next heartbeat, the metallic click of a pistol cocking rang in Bexley’s ear.
Her skin erupted with goosebumps with the sound of DA Jenkins’ voice. “That won’t be necessary. You’re trespassing on private property. Pursuant to California law, I’m allowed to use deadly force to protect myself from bodily harm.”
Bexley’s heart plummeted.
It was foolish to think she could easily bring their crimes to justice after they’d been successfully running drugs for so many years.
This time, she’d underestimated the situation.
She’d made a fatal mistake.
The mayor smiled at Jenkins over her shoulder. “The timing couldn’t be better. We can finally get rid of her once and for all.”
“On your knees, Squires,” Jenkins hissed.
Bexley remained standing. “Okay, but you fellas might want to think this through a little more,” she warned, willing her body to stop trembling. “My boss is well aware that I was coming to this property, and the mayor’s social security number is tied to the deed. Don’t you think that will raise some unsavory questions?”
“Is that true?” Baker hissed, turning to his partner.
Mayor Hoffman blanched at the other two men. “I didn’t…I mean…”
“You blubbering idiot!” Jenkins yelled behind her. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”
“Do it,” Baker urged, dipping his chin. “Take her out. If she walks away from this, we won’t be able to fix it. I’ll fashion a plausible explanation.”
A long, slow breath fell from Bexley’s lips.
The faint sound of the trigger being pulled amplified a thousand times.
She jerked her head back, striking her skull against Jenkins’ face.
Jenkins cried out and fell against something, sending it clattering to the floor.
At the same time, a bullet whizzed over her head.
Lieutenant Baker yelped in pain.
The gun fell to the floor at Bexley’s feet.
The mayor charged forward, diving for the gun.
She got to it first.
The mayor grabbed a fistful of her hair.
Despite the blinding pain, Bexley fought against the older man with everything she had. Within seconds, she overpowered his weak grip, and gained complete control of the pistol. The mayor froze with his hands up in the air. “You don’t have the courage to pull the trigger,” he challenged.
She released the safety. “Sure you wanna take the chance?” She backed away from him, including Jenkins in her range. “Go stand by your buddy. Both of you get down on the floor, hands where I can see them.”
She searched for the lieutenant over her shoulder, but he was nowhere to be seen. He had, however, left behind a small spot of blood. The bullet must’ve nicked him.
She turned back to her captor. “Hey, Siri!” she shouted. “Call Emergency Services!”
“Calling Emergency Services in five seconds,” the robotic voice replied from inside her jeans pocket.
“It really works!” Bexley said, beaming at the two men. “I didn’t think it would really work!”
“Siri, cancel!” Hoffman yelled. “Cancel!”
“Cancel call!” Jenkins tried. “No, Siri!”
Bexley clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Maybe you should try scratching her belly and giving her a treat.”
A loud commotion came from the other room. Bexley already guessed she was in trouble before she saw the two armed guards running at her.
“Drop the weapon!” one roared, threatening her with an assault rifle. The other guard stood behind him, appearing confused by the situation.
Bexley held her ground. “I’d rather you drop yours.”
“Calling Emergency Services,” Siri reported before a ring tone came from her pocket.
“Shit!” the 50-something guard yelled. “Siri, cancel! Cancel, Siri! Don’t call them!”
“It won’t work,” the mayor told him. “I already tried.”
“Your generation has a lot to learn about smart phones,” Bexley scolded, rolling her eyes.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” a woman’s voice asked.
“This is private investigator Bexley Squires. Tell Detective Grayson Rivers that I’m being held at gun point by Mayor Hoffman, DA Jenkins, and Lieutenant Baker’s thugs at Dean Halliwell’s former residence. No need for the address, Rivers will know exactly where to
find us. You may want to send several squad cars and an ambulance, too.”
The guards exchanged a knowing look before they fled from the room.
Bexley tipped her head in their direction while flashing a smirk between the mayor and DA. “Should’ve given them more drug money.”
“You still don’t have any evidence to support your theory,” the mayor snarled in a quiet voice.
“I’m sure they can find something in this house that will prove your guilt. Don’t you know it’s bad luck to take refuge in a serial killer’s home? I mean, Dean Halliwell was arrested just a few rooms down.”
“Officers are on their way, Miss Squires,” the dispatcher called out. “They should be there in less than five minutes. Are you in immediate danger?”
“I secured the weapon,” Bexley replied. “I’m holding the mayor and DA until help arrives, but you need to let them know that Lieutenant Baker got away. And I’m pretty sure he was shot by one of his partners.”
The mayor bared his teeth like a feral animal. “What will it take for you to realize that I’m untouchable? How many times do we have to play this game?”
Bexley’s gaze narrowed. “Hate to break it to you, Mayor, but you’re being recorded by nine-one-one. The only game you’ll be playing from this point forward will be ‘don’t drop the soap’.”
Grayson was the first to enter the room in a tactical vest, weapon drawn. His terse expression disappeared the second he assessed the situation, and realized Bexley was unharmed. He lowered his arms. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, also lowering her aching arms before engaging the safety. She watched as several uniformed officers entered the room, cuffing the mayor and DA’s hands behind their backs.
Bexley turned to Grayson, pointing the muzzle downward as she handed the weapon over. Grayson took a handkerchief from his pocket before taking the pistol. “Whose is this?”
“Jenkins had it. He accidentally shot your lieutenant instead of me.”
“He shot at you?” he growled, eyeing Jenkins with a flash of dark malice.
“Never mind that. Did you get my message about Lieutenant Baker?”
“I don’t understand what happened here. Why'd you think he’s involved?”
“Because I overheard him talking with the mayor about their failed attempts to kill Brewer Hawkins. And Otis Welder. And you and me. They mentioned the cartel and drugs, too. I believe they’re responsible for funneling cocaine seized by the Coast Guard to the cartel in Mexico.”
“Nonsense!” the mayor objected. “You have no basis for these claims!”
“I can replay the conversation for you if you’d like,” Bexley told him. “I have it recorded on my phone.”
“Keep your mouth shut, Hoffman,” Jenkins warned. “Not another word until you’ve talked with your attorney.”
“Guess that won’t be you this time,” Bexley prodded with a wink.
Grayson wiped a hand over his face, and then gripped the back of his neck. For a moment, he seemed to doubt Bexley’s accusation—she knew by the simple look he was giving her. She’d seen it a hundred times. It was all the confirmation she needed to know she could never go back to him.
He finally stopped one of the uniformed officers as the others escorted a tight-lipped mayor from the room. “Send two squad cars over to Lieutenant Baker’s home. Immediately. Let them know he could be armed and dangerous.”
“Yessir,” the officer answered.
Grayson started after him. Bexley snagged his coat sleeve, reeling him back to her. “Where are you going?”
“To the lieutenant’s house.” His brow furrowed. “If you’re right and he is involved, maybe I can talk some sense into him before someone gets hurt.”
“I know you’re shocked to hear your superior isn’t the man you thought he was, but trust me, I am right about this. And I want to be there when you take the crooked bastard down.”
The light of a helicopter blinked over their heads in the dark sky as Bexley and Grayson stood behind a squad car in matching tactical vests. The SWAT team was stationed around the lieutenant’s home from all sides, and a sniper held position from the rooftop of a nearby hardware store. They’d been camped out in the same positions for several hours as Lieutenant Baker threatened to shoot anyone who approached the two-story cottage. His wife and daughter were believed to be inside with him.
“Do you believe me yet?” Bexley snapped at Grayson.
“Maybe next time you’ll think twice about investigating something of this caliber on your own,” he snapped back. “You should’ve called me.”
Bexley’s patience for the entire situation was wearing thin. She’d been texting back and forth with both Kiersten and Brewer since his hearing, and was relieved to hear he’d been released on bail pending a trial. She was eager to head home.
Grayson stood taller with the sight of Deputy Danks and the SWAT team commander approaching. “He’s accepting our request to release his family,” the fit, gray-haired commander reported. “His wife and daughter are on their way out.”
A second later, Bexley’s stomach dropped as she watched Tammy and Violet scurry from the house. Their faces were both streaked with mascara, and they had a wild look in their eyes that Bexley doubted she’d ever forget.
The women had safely crossed the yellow caution tape when there was a distant bang that made everyone in the vicinity flinch. It sounded as if it was coming from the commander’s two-way radio.
“Shots fired! Shots fired!”
The SWAT team members closed in on the house with the precision and ease of a ballet class. Bexley held her breath as they stormed through the front door. She was sure everyone held their breath until they heard the commander’s two-way radio crackle. “Target shot himself. Lieutenant Baker is dead.”
The lieutenant’s wife cried out, sinking to her knees. Suddenly, their daughter was charging at Bexley. “This is your fault!” Violet screamed among a sob. “You made my father do this! If it wasn’t for you, he’d still be alive!”
Before Bexley had a chance to step back, Violet swung a fist and caught Bexley above her eye. Deputy Danks rushed in to take the distraught teenager away. By the time he’d pushed Violet into the back of the nearest squad car, Bexley was shaking. She’d done the right thing, she’d found the killers and brought them to justice. Brewer was safe. And everything was going to be alright. So why didn’t she feel good about it?
Grayson turned without another word and left her, still bleeding from Violet’s attack.
“I did the right thing!” Bexley shouted at his back. She wiped at the blood over her eye and turned to glare at the car where Violet was still pounding on the window and screaming at her. “I did the right thing,” she repeated to herself.
21
Outside the Mediterranean steakhouse, Bexley’s dark hair fluttered across her face in the brisk ocean air while her stomach twisted with unease. She hadn’t invited Grayson to their family dinners when they were together, and she knew her father’s reaction to the presence of a man on bail who wanted to be a regular part of Bexley’s life would be extreme. Especially when her father had arranged the dinner solely because he claimed to have “something important” to tell the sisters. Bexley shuddered when considering the possibilities.
When she pulled her hair aside and turned to her date for the night, her heart thumped in heavy staccatos. A short stubble lined Brewer’s jaw, and he’d grown his hair out on the sides to match the shorter length on top. In a plain black t-shirt under his black leather jacket and black jeans, he could almost be mistaken for a hipster were it not for his extensive tattoo collection and the overall vibe of mystique that seeped from his pores. He flashed one of his sexy smirks, warm chestnut eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
It wasn’t only his exceptionally good looks that drew her to Brewer. After all the mayhem they’d survived together, a mutual attachment had formed between them. They’d wordlessly shifted into a more involved relationship that
had yet to go beyond a lot of hand-holding and flirting, but the magnetism between them crackled more than ever. She spent a lot of sleepless nights thinking about him as he slept in her apartment’s spare room. Things were moving quickly, and she wasn't sure she was ready.
“This evening will probably feel a lot like you’re getting all your teeth pulled at once by a shoddy dentist in a dark alley,” she blurted, twisting her arms in front of her. “But my sister’s boyfriend will be here, and I think you two will get along. Alex is a decent guy. The two of you can suffer through the torment of my old man together.”
With a deliciously dark chuckle, Brewer pulled her in close, tucking her against his side. “You forget I was in the military. I can handle his type without breaking a sweat.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head that shot ripples of warmth down to her toes.
Slipping her arm around his waist, she let out a hefty sigh and wondered if it was too late to back out of the dinner. She could list several activities she’d rather be doing with Brewer that would be far more enjoyable. “I still don’t think you’re prepared for Captain Ferguson.”
He leaned away from her. “Worried what he’ll think of me?”
“Of course not!” she scolded. When he cocked an eyebrow in question, she huffed. “It’s not what you think.”
“I get it, Squires. The tattoos, my pending trial…I’m not the kind of guy a girl dreams about bringing home to meet her dad.”
“You don’t understand. My father’s opinion doesn’t matter.” She gripped his chin in her hand. “No one’s opinion of you matters to me, Brewer Hawkins. What I once said about you being a bad boy…I didn’t mean it. Not the way you think. While it seems you have an affinity for living on the wild side, I know you’re a good man. No one could ever change my mind.”
Brewer’s pupils dilated as he bent down to brush his soft lips over hers. Though it was a sweet, harmless kiss that felt more like a thank you, Bexley’s insides exploded like fireworks and her mind became numb. She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing her lips into her mouth as she savored his sweet taste.
