by Lenora Worth
The two couples had little in common and didn’t know one another. She knew based on her video phone call with the Emerys’ landlords, the O’Malleys, that the couple had been rowdy renters who were behind on their bills. Lucy, appearing unkempt, had often been seen playing alone in the yard. Bradley and Penny McGregor hadn’t had a stable childhood, either. Both sets of parents were neglectful. But that didn’t constitute murder unless the killer thought the parents deserved what they got and had a soft spot for children. Seemed far-fetched, but all ideas for motives were welcome.
That made her think of Emmett again. He’d be good with children. He had a strong work ethic and a solid faith.
Your parents would be so proud of you, Emmett.
Why did she feel that Emmett had something to prove and that something meant he didn’t want to settle down?
Maybe tomorrow or weeks from now, she’d let that image of Emmett’s silvery eyes and nice smile slip back into her psyche. But for now, they had a lot of work to do and none of it involved him being in her future.
* * *
Her phone buzzed at seven the next morning.
“Hello?” Belle said, still sleepy.
“It’s Emmett. I got called out on a case. An escapee we’ve been trying to locate for six months. We’ve got a strong tip that he’s hiding out in Long Island. Not sure when I’ll be done here.”
“Go,” she said, “And be safe.”
“How are you?”
“I was good until someone woke me up.”
“Sorry, just wanted to check. I’ll call later.”
“Okay. Meantime, I’ll do some online research and try to behave.” Then she said, “Hey, Emmett, would Randall go out of his way to protect a child?”
A pause and then, “Maybe. He had a tough life with a tough dad. Are you onto something?”
“I don’t know. Just wondering why the murderer left Penny there with a stuffed animal. I could ask the same about Lucy Emery, but since we only have DNA evidence from the McGregor murders, I’m focusing on the cold case.”
“Good question.” Then he let out a breath. “You know, Randall did some work as a carnie. He worked one of the games where the prizes were stuffed animals.”
Belle jotted that in her notes, remembering Emmett’s earlier reminder that Randall liked to collect toys and trinkets. “So he loved stuffed animals and also had access to them. Interesting. I’m going to pretend to be resting while I try to piece things together.”
“Right. You’re something else, Montera.”
Belle hung up, wondering what that something else might be. A good something or a pain-in-the-neck something? He’d given her enough warnings to show her he was unavailable. Or at least, emotionally unavailable.
She actually smiled. Maybe she should date more just to prepare her for when the really good ones came along. She had a feeling Emmett was a good one but that was beside the point.
She stretched and got up, then turned on the coffee pot. Throwing on a robe over her nightgown, she let Justice out into the dog-run and gave him some playtime in the small square yard with the tall white fence. Belle had a nice Adirondack chair with soft cushions to sit in when she wasn’t chasing Justice around. Now she sat there with her coffee and took in the scent of her mother’s roses and the neighbor’s breakfast.
“Belle?”
She glanced up to see her twin sisters smiling down from the fire escape, their long dark hair falling in silky waves around their faces. “Hey.”
“Mamá says come eat breakfast. She made blueberry pancakes and your favorite scrambled eggs.”
“I’ll be up soon,” Belle said with a grin.
“Where did you meet that hunk that Cara caught you with?” Anita asked with a smug smile.
“At work.”
“Are you two a thing?”
“No, we are not a thing. He’s on a case with my unit.”
Cara grinned. “So? You’ve been on a date?”
“No date. I just met him like two days ago and we were after a very nasty person. That doesn’t qualify as a date.”
Her sister shrugged. “It could, if you flirt a little.”
“Hey, I don’t flirt at work.”
“Maybe you should,” Cara suggested.
They both whirled when their father called out in his gruff voice, “Time to eat.”
Belle got Justice in and they both trudged upstairs to enjoy an early breakfast with the whole family. Except Joaquin.
Apparently, he was sleeping late now that school was out.
Since Belle had the day off, she intended to have a strongly worded talk with her brother.
EIGHT
Belle was back at work in the training yard the next day, taking Justice through the paces. Her partner seemed as anxious as she was to get rolling again, despite the unsettling talk she’d had with her brother last night. Joaquin didn’t want to listen to her warnings about finding a summer job and staying away from the group of kids who roamed the streets looking for trouble night and day.
She’d have to keep on him whether he liked it or not. Right now, she wanted to finish this workout and get back to her desk to try to find more information on the two thorns in her side—Randall Gage and Lance Johnson.
Justice must have felt her anxiety. The German shepherd was all in on running through the obstacle course out in the training yard. It was hard to keep a good working dog down.
“That a boy,” she called as the eager K-9 showed his worth by walking across ladders and flying over low walls before searching through barrels and containers for hidden evidence. Then they practiced circle-and-bark and worked on reasonable force. The circle-and-bark was just that—he’d keep circling the cornered suspect and bark until he had further instructions. The reasonable force meant Justice wouldn’t bite until ordered to do so as a last resort. A well-trained K-9 meant less unnecessary injuries and fewer lawsuits for the department. And that meant she had to be on high alert all the time, too. Justice trusted her to make the right calls.
Wishing they could have cornered the perp in the storage warehouse yesterday, Belle gave Justice due credit for trying to capture the man, at least. Justice would have taken the shooter if she’d shouted the attack order in time. But the man had sprinted to the car and that was that.
She made up for her mistake this morning by pushing both Justice and herself to the limit.
“We’ve still got it,” Belle told her excited partner once they’d gone through the paces. “Playtime now.”
Justice knew what that meant. After a short game of tug-of-war to show him that he would always be rewarded after hard work, they freshened up and Belle hurried to her cubicle. “Time to find the truth.”
Emmett was waiting for her, dressed as usual in his dark polo shirt and khakis, his badge hanging from a lanyard around his neck, his dark baseball hat on the desk in front of him.
“Morning,” he said, standing when she reached her chair. “I brought fresh coffee.”
“You’re going to give me a bad rep,” she said, gratitude in her tone. “My team members will be jealous and call me a diva.”
“You, a diva? I doubt that.” He opened his own coffee and took a sip. “I saw you two out on the practice field. Pretty impressive.”
Justice lifted his head and shot them a doggy smile.
“Yes, you, too,” Emmett said, grinning at the big dog.
Belle wanted to smile, too. So he’d been watching them? That made little tingles of awareness move down her spine. It had been a while since a handsome man had shown her any interest, even if it was only the professional kind.
“We have to do a certain amount of training each week to stay on track and stay certified,” she explained. “Can’t slack off or get too complacent.”
“No, because the bad guys never do.”
 
; “Well, I’m thinking the one who’s after me has some issues there. He’s kind of trigger-happy but also haphazard. He’ll mess up soon enough.”
“Just remember he has serious upper body strength,” Emmett replied, touching a hand to his collar. “I didn’t enjoy seeing his hands on your throat.”
“Good point. I’m going to check the gyms around his apartment. The man obviously works out. Probably did in prison, too. I don’t remember him being so beefy the first time Justice and I took him down.”
“I guess he remembers you, though.”
“Too well. I guess prison didn’t suit him so now he blames me. Too bad he’s going back there.”
Belle finished her daily workout report and then gave her full attention to Emmett. “So first, did you find the escapee?”
“Yes. He’s back in a warm, cozy cell with a nice downtown view of nothing but bars. He won’t be roaming around on the sly anymore.”
“Good, and second, did you find anything in your dad’s files?”
Emmett sighed and leaned back in the chair across from hers. “Yes. In fact, I’m waiting to talk to see—”
“Marshal Gage, Belle, a word,” Gavin called from his office.
“Him,” Emmett finished, getting up and waiting for her to do the same.
“Coming, sir,” Belle called after giving Justice the sign to follow.
Gavin stood waiting for them and then shut the door. “Deputy Marshal, what did you find last night?”
Sarge was obviously still sore at them for going rogue the other day. Belle wanted to hear what Emmett had to say so she refrained from apologizing again.
“I went over the few bits of information I could find,” Emmett explained. “My father never brought home official files, of course. He always logged in any evidence or notes and put them in the evidence room just like any good officer would.”
“But?” Belle asked, wondering.
“But he kept a personal notebook to back up what he saw each time he made an arrest or got involved in a case.”
“Just as a reference?” Gavin asked, his scowl not so sharp now.
“Yes,” Emmett replied. “And because, unfortunately, he worked with some pretty shifty cops at one time.”
“Do any of those shifty cops have a place in our investigation?” Gavin asked.
“No, but I’m trying to establish that he had his reasons for keeping thorough notes and that served him well for many years.”
Gavin nodded. “Your dad sounds like a good cop. What did you find?”
Belle gave her superior a slanted glance, but Gavin remained as stoic as a rock. He wanted answers.
Emmett sat up and pulled out a black notebook. “I have a few notations. April 20, 2000. I got a call from Randall today. Haven’t heard a word from him in five years. But he didn’t have much to say when push came to shove. Seemed nervous and rambled a lot. Just said that he was heading out.”
“Heading out?” Gavin took the notebook and studied the handwriting. “This would have been around the time of the McGregor murders.”
Emmett nodded. “Could have been Randall’s way of telling my dad he was leaving the state of New York. I did some digging and found out that’s the first time he went to Pennsylvania. Worked around the farms there, even worked with the Amish a few years. But he drifted away and lost contact, as I’ve already reported.”
“What else do you have?” Gavin asked, handing the notebook back to Emmett.
“Another reference right before my father retired. Randall’s in trouble again, but I can’t help him. He won’t tell me what he’s done but he’s in a bad way about something that happened long ago. Couldn’t get him to meet with me.”
“That was in the fall of 2015,” Emmett continued. “My dad passed away a couple of months after that.”
“That’s not much to go on,” Belle said. “It shows your dad tried to keep in touch with Randall but if Randall told him anything regarding the cold-case murders, it went to his grave with him.”
Gavin nodded. “Why would your father leave such cryptic notes? Maybe he was noting times and dates while he protected Randall, maybe even knew he was on the run and where he was headed.”
Emmett shook his head and stood up. “You didn’t know my dad. He was straitlaced and hard-nosed. He went by the book, always. Never had a speck of scandal in his thirty years of being in law enforcement. You can easily verify that.”
Gavin stood, too. “We have to consider every angle. Trust me, I’ve been through this and it’s not easy.” Shrugging, he said, “Even the best of us try to do the right things for the wrong reasons. If your dad had a soft spot for Randall, he might have overlooked or purposely left out some important details.”
Emmett shook his head. “I’m telling you—it’s not like that. You both said you didn’t find any connection in the official files that could show my dad was aware of these murders. This murder case might have been common knowledge, but my dad was never part of the investigation. So stop going down that rabbit hole.”
Gavin shot Belle a reluctant glance. “Duly noted but we all need to stay on this and go back over every detail. Maybe your father destroyed a few journal entries.”
Emmett scrubbed a hand down his chin, his expression sharpening with anger. “I’ll keep reading my dad’s notes but I’m telling you both, he wouldn’t have covered up a double homicide even if his own mother had done it.”
Belle reached out to him. “Emmett, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” His eyes narrowed. “You people tracked me down and questioned me, made me feel like a suspect even though I had nothing to do with this and now you’re starting in on my father? We can’t help that Randall is related to us and none of us—not my dad nor me or my mom—has any inkling that Randall could have been involved in something so horrible. I understand you need my cooperation and you need me to find Randall so I can get fresh DNA to verify what you’ve found. I’m on that. But you need to lay off my dad. Keep him out of this.”
Pointing his finger at the notebook in his other hand, he said, “If my dad had heard word of him being a suspect, he would have noted it here and he would have at least kept the news clippings, or anything to tie to Randall. Then he would have worked to bring him in. But the news reports and the official reports all indicate suspect unknown.”
He gave Belle a frustrated stare and then whirled toward the door. “I have my own cases to get back to but I’d appreciate it if you’d keep me informed if you find Randall. And I’m duty bound to do the same—I won’t cover for him or help him escape. He needs to pay if he did this, but he is innocent until proven guilty. Understand?”
Belle glanced from his departing back to Gavin’s shocked face. “Sir?”
“Let him go for now. He’s right, of course. We just need to find something on Randall Gage. Anything that can either clear the man or condemn him. We’re stalling out here.”
“I’ll get back on it,” she said, motioning to Justice. “But we just lost a strong contact. I don’t know if Emmett will come around anymore.”
“We’ve established enough to do this on our own, Belle.”
“Have we?” she questioned.
“Are you disputing me?”
“No, sir.” She shrugged. “He was kind of growing on me, though. He was a good resource.”
Gavin gave her one of his measured stares, but Belle met his gaze with one of her own. “The man saved my life. We kind of bonded.”
“Well, that’s good,” Gavin replied on a dry note. “Once you’ve solved this case, you can be friends with the deputy. How ’bout that?”
“That might work, sir,” she said. Then she hurried out the door, hoping to find Emmett.
But Emmett Gage was long gone from the Brooklyn K-9 Unit headquarters.
Would she ever see him again?
*
* *
Gavin didn’t give her much time to think about Emmett. He ordered her and Noelle Orton, a rookie who used to be a K-9 trainer, to search once again for Lance Johnson. Noelle had been taking less public assignments since her K-9 partner, Liberty, had broken up two major gun-smuggling operations at the airport. Because of that, a gunrunner had put a bounty of ten-thousand dollars on Liberty’s head. So neither of them had had much street time lately.
“A car matching the description of the one you and Emmett saw last night at the storage warehouse was located near a building in Canarsie about thirty minutes ago. It’s not far from Johnson’s last known address. He might be around. Take Noelle and Liberty with you. Noelle can use the experience and Liberty needs to stay sharp, too. Since this is a low-profile case, they both should be safe.”
Now Belle and Noelle along with their partners were walking the perimeters of the older neighborhood. Noelle was tall and strong, her long dark hair in its usual low bun below her cap. Her yellow Lab, Liberty, had a telltale black splotch on her ear, which made the targeted K-9 all too easy to identify. They’d have to be vigilant for Liberty’s sake. As they walked, Belle spotted the car immediately and took a picture. Justice sniffed the vehicle and turned to give her a doleful affirmative.
“Dark navy economy car. Damage to the driver-side door and a deep white gash along that side of the vehicle. That’s the car the shooter used to get away yesterday,” she told Noelle. “Has to be the same one.”
After radioing confirmation and the car’s license plate number, she turned to Noelle. “We can’t search it without a warrant, and I didn’t get the license number yesterday. So we’ll have to wait to find out who owns the vehicle. But we can check Johnson’s apartment building again.”
Noelle’s green eyes widened. “Let’s go.”
Liberty appeared to be just as eager to get some action.
The valiant Lab didn’t know she was in any danger from gunrunners who wanted to stop her from being so good at her job. She was always ready and willing to take down criminals. Justice trotted along beside Liberty, obviously smitten.