Bad Beat

by Robin Mahle

  Bad Beat

  A Riley Thompson Thriller

  Robin Mahle

  HARP House Publishing, LLC.

  Published by HARP House Publishing

  August 2019 (1st edition)

  Copyright ©2019 by Robin Mahle

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means, including mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover design: Covermint Design

  Editor: Hercules Editing and Consulting Services www.bzhercules.com

  For Sgt. William Tate, 101st Airborne

  Vietnam veteran

  Bronze Star and Purple Heart recipient, and many more honors that would be tough to fit on this page. Your wisdom and humor guided me into adulthood. Your love for my mother showed me what love is supposed to be. Your love for this country is everlasting. Thank you for your service.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  About the Author

  Also by Robin Mahle

  1

  Shafts of early morning sunlight magnified through Riley Thompson’s kitchen window and induced a dull ache in the back of her eyes. She closed the sheer curtains to diffuse the intense beams and turned away to keep close watch of the coffee maker while it brewed. When the cycle finished, she raised the stainless steel carafe and tipped it into her waiting mug. Her attention was diverted when her beloved schnauzer, CJ, barked outside. With the carafe still in her hand, Riley gazed out. CJ stood in the middle of the yard, surrounded by tall green grass that skimmed his underbelly. With his teeth bared and tail pointed, he snarled at the sky.

  Anguish knotted in her without warning and from a place deep-seated in her psyche. Her spine tingled and her skin crawled. As she fixed her sights on CJ’s bearded face while he barked with growing intensity, a single thought exploded with white-hot energy. A mournful, agonizing wail clawed from her throat. “No!” Riley dropped the carafe into the sink, steaming coffee splattering across her police uniform shirt. She pressed her hands against her ears to mute the cries that battered her skull.

  CJ fell silent and whipped his head toward the window. He trained his sights on Riley. She homed in on his stare for just a moment, then collapsed in a heap on the floor. A puddle of coffee surrounded her. “No. Please don’t be dead. Please, God, don’t let him be dead.” But she knew he was. She’d felt the moment of his passing.

  The gift that had been handed down from her grandfather had never betrayed her. The connection between Carl Boyd and Riley had formed years ago, sixteen years ago, after the EF4 that almost took her life and that of her family. That connection had just been severed with razor-sharp precision. Carl Boyd, a man who had been a stand-in father, grandfather, and mentor was dead.

  She opened her heavy-lidded brown eyes and pulled away from the cabinet against which she had been slumped. Consciousness fell away for a length of time of which she was uncertain. Scratching sounded on the back door. “CJ.” Riley pushed off the kitchen floor, her uniform soaked in coffee, and walked to the door leading to the backyard. As she opened it, CJ raised his eyes to her. He hurried inside, whining, and brushed against her legs. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay. I’m fine.” Riley was anything but fine.

  The clock mounted on her kitchen wall above the oven revealed that nearly thirty minutes had passed. The wailing in her head ceased, but her heart ached so deeply, she struggled to catch her breath. “I have to call the center.” Before Riley made it to her cell phone that lay on the kitchen counter, it rang. It was the senior home where Carl had lived for the past several years. A place Riley had visited at least three times a week, bringing him food, checking in on him. Mostly, she did it for selfish reasons. Carl had so much wisdom to offer and he did so willingly.

  “Hello?” She braced for the inevitable words.

  “Riley, I’m so sorry, honey…”

  “He’s gone,” she replied in a whisper.

  “He passed a short while ago, after he returned to his room from breakfast.”

  She closed her eyes, forcing tears to spill over onto her full, pale cheeks. “Can I come see him?”

  “They’re on their way to take him to the mortuary. It’s best if you see him there.”

  “Did he—suffer?” Riley asked.

  “No, sweetheart. He was in his favorite chair and just—fell asleep.”

  “Thank you. I’ll go to the mortuary.” She ended the call and peered at her feet, where CJ had curled up. “I have to go see him, buddy.” Riley gently moved out from under him and looked down at her uniform. “I suppose I should change first.” And as if in a stupor, she walked to her bedroom.

  Riley tucked a fresh shirt into her uniform pants, accentuating her curvy midsection, and returned to the kitchen when a knock sounded on her door. The hollow thump echoed in her mind, and before opening it to who she knew waited on the other side, a moment was needed to steady her emotions. Riley straightened her shoulders and gripped the door handle. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and opened the door. “Hey. Thanks for coming.”

  Captain Dan Ward was Riley’s commanding officer at the Owensville Police Station, which employed only three other officers. In the small town in southern Indiana of roughly 4,000, there wasn’t much call for a large police force. Except when the Indianapolis-based mafia tried to set up operations at the old Caterpillar plant on the edge of town, but that was long over now. The court case was due to go to trial later in the year.

  “Riley, I’m so sorry.” Dan walked inside and embraced her. “I’m glad you called me, though. You shouldn’t do this alone.”

  She pulled away and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “They said he went peacefully. It didn’t feel that way to me.”

  “You—knew it?”

  “I felt the pain. It took a minute for me to realize where it was coming from. I don’t think he wanted to leave me.”

  “Of course he didn’t. He loved you like a daughter. But he’s in a…”

  “Better place. Yeah, I know. Doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “No. Are you ready to go?” Dan shoved his hands in his pockets and the look on his face revealed that he wasn’t quite sure what to say or if his words would matter.

  “I’m ready.” Riley scratched CJ behind the ears. “I’ll see you later, buddy. Everything’s going to be all right.” She waited for Dan to step outside and followed him, closing the door behind her.

  “Have you talked to Jacob yet?” he asked.

  “No. Not yet.” She followed her captain to his police cruiser and stepped into the passenger seat.

  Jacob Biggs had been Riley’s high school sweetheart and her friend since she was ten. After high school, he left fo
r college and then Indianapolis for work as an architect. Riley never held it against him. He wanted the big city life. However, that ended up biting him in the backside when he returned four months ago and brought with him the mafia, though he was an unwilling participant. It was his boss who had been corrupted. Nevertheless, trouble had followed Jacob back to Owensville and it took the entire police force with help from the big city cops to bring it to an end.

  Now that it had all settled down, the two had been dating again. Riley wanted to take it slow. He’d broken her heart before, and she guarded it well this time around.

  Dan rolled into the lot of the mortuary and shifted the car into park. “You sure you’re ready for this? It doesn’t have to be today.”

  “Yes, it does. I need to see him.” Riley stepped out of the patrol car, adjusted her holster, and started toward the red brick building that was the town’s only mortuary.

  The last time she’d been here was when Carl’s son, CJ, was killed. He had tried to protect her and it cost him his life. It was also the last time Riley had been to a funeral. Most of the town had shown up not because they knew CJ; they didn’t. He hadn’t lived in Owensville. They showed up for Carl Boyd, a man who had grown up in this town, fought for his country, lost his first wife and daughter and had lost his son. Carl had no one left except Riley.

  She stood in front of the entry doors with marked hesitation.

  Dan approached and placed his hands atop her shoulders. “You can do this, kid. I know you can.”

  Riley nodded and walked inside. The distinctive odor of bleach and flowers overwhelmed her senses, and for a moment, suppressed her grief. The moment passed when a woman in a black pencil skirt and a white button-down shirt approached. Her eyes revealed too much death and sadness. Riley wondered how one could separate themselves in this line of work.

  “Good morning. I’m Shannon Goodacre. You must be Riley Thompson?” The woman offered her hand.

  “Yes, I’m Riley.” She returned the greeting. “This is Captain Ward. Sorry we’re in uniform.”

  “Don’t be. Times like these don’t arrive at one’s convenience. Please, follow me. I’ll take you to see Mr. Boyd.”

  The thin, older woman wearing a tight bun pressed on with purpose, like she had done this many times before. Her outward appearance bore a cold detachment, but Riley knew the truth. This woman had a gift of her own. One that allowed her to push deep into her depths the sadness that accompanied grief. Riley suspected she had suffered much of it on a personal level. Her reasons for taking on a position such as this led Riley to believe it was the old adage “misery loves company.”

  “Here we are.” Ms. Goodacre spun on her thin-heeled black pumps. “Are you ready to go inside, Officer Thompson?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m ready.”

  “Very well.” She turned the knob and opened the door. “He’s right through here.” Her heels clicked on the shiny linoleum. “Please forgive the odor. We don’t usually bring family or friends down here, but we understand this is a bit of an unusual situation.”

  “Unusual? How?” Riley’s rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the floor with her every step.

  “Well, unusual in that you’re an officer of the law. Please understand this isn’t our normal protocol. We prefer to prepare the deceased and take them to a room to be presented to members of the family. However, it was our understanding we were to allow your visit at your convenience.”

  “Who asked you to allow this?” Riley tossed a glance to Dan.

  “I called ahead and asked,” Dan said. “I wanted to be sure he was here before we drove over. I’m sorry. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course.” Riley wasn’t entirely sure if it was okay, but then her thoughts were so muddled right now, it was difficult to know anything for certain. What mattered was that she was about to see Carl on a table, probably beneath some white sheet. Why the hell did they always use white anyway?

  Riley stopped cold and took in a breath to slow her pulse. The air was pungent, no doubt, but her emotions were about to take over and she couldn’t break down here. Not here, of all places.

  The woman pulled down the sheet to Carl’s upper chest. The sheet outlined his body, which appeared much frailer than Riley had expected. Had he been losing weight and she didn’t know it? Carl almost always wore oversized shirts. Maybe he was always this thin.

  “I’m sure you would like a moment alone. Please, take as much time as you need. I’ll be waiting outside.”

  “Thank you,” Riley replied.

  “Do you want me to go too?” Dan asked.

  “I would like just a couple of minutes, if that’s okay.”

  Dan nodded and followed Ms. Goodacre out the door.

  Riley examined him. “Well, you’ve looked better, Carl.” He would’ve appreciated the humor, even if she didn’t feel like laughing. “You weren’t supposed to go yet. I’m not ready to live without you. But I know you’re happy now to be back with your family. You’ll be sure to say hi to CJ, right?” Her eyes burned with tears as they streamed down her cheeks. Her gaze drifted to his left shoulder where she saw his tattoo. She’d only seen it once or twice before, whenever Carl felt in the mood to wear a sleeveless shirt, which over the past sixteen years, wasn’t often. He had been in the Marines and served in Vietnam. The tattoo read, “Swift, Silent, Deadly.”

  “I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me and my family. I love you so much and I’m so blessed to have had you in my life.” Her voice quivered and Riley felt like a child again. The same child who stood frozen before Carl when he opened the door of his trailer on that fateful day.

  There was only one thing she had left to do but feared doing it above all else. Sometimes, if it was soon enough after someone’s death, a touch of her hand on them would reveal a great many things. But if too much time had passed, she might pick up a few abstract images or nothing at all. Carl had died only a few hours ago. Chances were good, if she placed her hand on him, she might see his final thoughts. But was she ready to see them or would it bring too much hurt?

  Riley’s hand hovered over his left arm and trembled. She recalled the agonizing sensation from this morning when she sensed his death. “They said you weren’t in any pain. Is that true?” She closed her eyes and lowered her hand. His skin was cool, but not cold, like he just needed a blanket. And then it happened.

  Images hurled through her mind as though she stood inside a darkened wind tunnel and blurred pictures flew past her. They swirled around her like she was inside the eye of a tornado. “Stop. Please. I can’t see anything. It’s too fast.”

  In the blackness of her mind, the pictures fell to her feet. Thousands upon thousands lay around her. It was his life. Everything Carl had been through, the good and the bad, lay before her. “What do I do with this?” She peered down and a few images floated up and hovered in front of her face. Riley smiled. They were pictures of Carl and Riley, and her brother Dillon. All happiness and smiles. Then another moved to the front. Carl was on his chair. “This was when you passed?”

  He hadn’t been in pain. In fact, there had been a hint of a smile on his lips as he leaned back on the recliner. “Thank God. Thank God.” She felt that he hadn’t suffered, at least not at that moment. Carl had had a lifetime of suffering, but this was one moment in which he hadn’t.

  Riley began to pull her hand away, but he stopped her, as though gravity held it down. “What? Tell me what you want to say.”

  As she continued to stand in the pitch black with images resting at her feet, a sense of dread fell on her shoulders. Now, instead of pictures, a deck of cards rained down on her and she raised her arms to shield her head. “What is this?”

  The Queen of Hearts was the last to fall and it landed in the palm of her hand. Riley examined it. “I don’t understand. Carl, what is this? What are you trying to tell me?” But that was it. Whatever had been seizing her hand had let go. She pulled it away and opened her eyes. That was all she was goin
g to get; random images from Carl’s life and a deck of cards.

  The door opened and Riley swung around.

  Dan walked inside. “Hey. You’ve been in here a while. Is everything okay? I don’t mean to barge in…”

  “It’s okay. I’ve said my goodbyes.” She started ahead but stopped and turned back once again. “I love you, Carl.”

  Dan held the door for her as she passed through. He glanced at Carl’s lifeless body. “She wouldn’t have made it this far without you, buddy. Rest in peace, old friend.”

  Riley waited in the floral-scented lobby for Dan to catch up. “If you want to drop me back at my house, I can pick up my car and head in.”

  Dan cocked his head and placed his hands on his narrow hips. “What are you talking about? You’re not going in to work today.”

  “It’s better if I do. Come on, Captain, you know me. I need to keep busy.”

  “Normally, I’d agree with you, but not this time, kid. I’ll take you home. We’ll talk about you coming in tomorrow.”

  Resigned, she followed Dan back to his car and stepped into the passenger seat, waiting for him to start the car. “Cap, please, trust me when I tell you, I’m much better off at work. I need the distraction.” Surely he would understand. It was the only weapon in her arsenal right now.

  “Riley, I get what you’re saying and I whole-heartedly disagree—this time. Look, it’s already coming up on lunch. What’s the point of you coming in this late in the day? We aren’t busy. Pruitt can handle whatever comes in, I promise you. Unless you don’t have confidence in him.”