by L B Wyatt
To say she received a few odd looks as she walked through the precinct was a massive understatement. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared. The phones went unattended and the silence of the chatter amplified the ringing of the telephones. Veronica paused for just a second, telling herself not to look around. There were faces in this crowd that wished Quinn had succeeded. There were officers here who might want to finish the job for him. Considering the evidence within her clutches, she was surprised Merritt didn’t have to pull his gun out to protect her as they walked toward the chief’s office.
No one said “hello”.
No one said “good job” or “glad you’re okay”.
It was just awkward, unmistakable hatred as she held her head up (despite the pulling agony it caused in her ribs) and marched forward. As soon as the door shut behind Merritt, the department resumed activity. Veronica shook her head feeling discouraged and defeated all at once.
“Hell of a job, Covey. I’m proud of you.”
And just like that, her faith was restored. She looked over as Morro stood from his desk and approached her. As he looked closer at her, she watched his features knit with concern.
“You look like hell.”
“Thanks, chief. You could use a shave yourself,” she quipped.
He smiled halfheartedly at her and drew in a deep breath before shoving his hands in his pockets. “I came by to see you after your surgery, but you were asleep,” he apologetically offered.
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but he turned around and walked back toward his desk instead, perching on the edge and gesturing for her to have a seat.
“We found Amelia’s body yesterday,” Morro announced, instantly grabbing Veronica’s undivided attention. She didn’t have to ask, her expression was pleading for him to go on.
“She was in the boathouse under the dock.”
Veronica swallowed hard and shook her head. “Cause of death?”
“Autopsy isn’t back yet, but we suspect strangulation.”
“She suffered.” Veronica’s statement was more to herself than the man before her and she turned her head down, suddenly so sad for what that poor girl had to go through she couldn’t stand the thought.
“We retrieved the recording device from the yoga studio. The last conversation was between Poppy and Everly. It was highly incriminating,” he informed almost as if to distract her from the dark train of thought she’d hopped on. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to use it in court, but we’ll see.”
“What about the recordings on my phone with Murphy?” She wasn’t sure she’d set the recorder up right before he’d knocked on the door.
“Apparently it stopped recording when you sent that text to Merritt,” Morro sighed and Veronica’s face fell with disappointment. “We didn’t get a lot of audio.”
“You still did good,” he repeated and then paused for a beat. “Was there something between you and the fed?” he questioned.
Veronica’s face was set in stone. “What does it matter?”
“I’m just trying to figure out why he’d try and kill you.”
She moved one shoulder in the slight motion of a shrug. “I told him I wasn’t in the mood and he got pissy.”
“I’m not buying your wisecracks, Covey.”
“It doesn’t matter, chief. It’s on the federal level. Let them deal with it.”
Morro let out a breath and shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t support you initially with Ross.”
The look on his face told her his apology was sincere. She eased forward and gently lowered herself into the seat in front of him. She opened the envelope and pulled out the safe deposit key. She’d put it around a chain so that it could be easily retrieved and ran the length of it through her hands.
“The ledger is here,” she informed, handing him the key. “I didn’t feel like bringing it here would be wise.”
She saw him nod in understanding. He took the chain and looked at it for a second.
“I read your statements,” he announced. “I wish you hadn’t gone into that hotel alone,” he said regretfully. “Though, I’m glad you did. The man you call the Barber, is that his last name?”
Veronica shook her head. “I don’t know. I think his first name is Ian.” She took in a deep breath and pulled out another piece of folded paper.
“What’s this?” he asked, opening it and glancing over the writing.
“That’s a list of the men you shouldn’t send to get that ledger. In fact, you and Merritt should probably retrieve it.” She watched as Morro’s face twisted in an unpleasant expression. His eyes narrowed and he glanced up at her.
“Caraway?”
She nodded. It didn’t surprise her one bit. She’d hated her lieutenant since the day she met the guy, but she kept her head down and did her job. She had proof now that most of the ones she’d had a problem with here at the station had their names somewhere in that ledger.
“Damn,” he muttered.
“I have digital copies as well if something happens. Just let me know and I’ll send them out.”
The chief let out a whoosh of air and she was sure looking at that list of names was similar to getting the wind knocked out of him. Some of those names were some of his best men. And now he’d have to charge them with a variety of crimes that would end some of their careers and undoubtedly start a manhunt with Veronica as the prime target. The prostitution charges probably wouldn’t account for loss of employment, but there were weapon and drug recordings in that ledger that could have only come from the police evidence lock up.
Morro pushed himself off his desk and walked around it, collapsing into his chair. He leaned way back, running his hands over his head and through what little hair he had left.
“The senator’s making a big stink over this whole Everly-Amelia case,” he started.
“Don’t worry about it, boss,” she cut him off as she pulled yet another paper from the envelope. She stood, wincing in pain and slid it across his desk. She saw the question in his eyes and knew why he didn’t reach for it. She hadn’t given him time to recover from the last thing she gave him.
“It’s my resignation. I figured I’d make it easier on you.”
The pained expression that overcame his weary features just then made her second guess that assumption. He leaned forward in his chair now, resting his elbows on his desk and a flash of anger ignited in his eyes. “I hate to lose you, Veronica.”
She shrugged but grimaced quickly after. Everything hurt. “I might be back around. Who knows? I think this is for the best right now, though. I’m not going to have too many friends in this town for a while.”
“Or this state,” he agreed. “I’ve submitted my request for witness protection. I should be hearing back soon. I think you should stay with Merritt until the details are ironed out.”
Veronica sat up a little straighter in her seat and she didn’t even mind the hurt that accompanied the action this time. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t think I need to be placed in witness protection.”
“And I respectfully disagree. I’ve been finding out more and more information about this Barber character, Covey. He’s bad news. Not just him but everyone he’s dealt with. I don’t think he’s the head of this operation by any means and until we catch him and get the Ross murder trial out of the way, I think it’s best we provide you with protection. We owe you that. I owe you that.”
Veronica was still shaking her head in objection. She didn’t want to go into hiding. Though she had her own ways of disappearing, they were at least on her own terms. She wouldn’t have much control over new assignments and destinations with the chief and the US Marshal Service in charge. She saw him raise his hand at her and she raised a brow.
“Just consider it, okay? You’re going to have to testify in these trials and we need you alive.”
Veronica was quiet. She would think about it, but she wouldn’t make any commitment
s just yet. There were things she needed to do for herself. And with that thought, she pulled yet another piece of information from the envelope.
“One more thing, chief.” She cleared her throat feeling a little nervous for some reason. She glanced over at Merritt to see him standing guard by the door. “Can you give us a minute, Merritt?” she requested.
He looked a little surprised, but thankfully he obliged without saying a word. Once the door clicked behind him, she turned back to the chief and slid the paper toward him.
“You worked with my father in the Navy and I was hoping you could point me in the right direction.”
She watched as Morro’s eyes swept over the log and narrowed a little more with each sentence until his lids were practically closed. “Where did you get these, Veronica?” he demanded. “These are classified military logs.”
She frowned at him. “It doesn’t matter. I need to know if you knew the reporting officer. M. Denton? I’ve been searching for a couple of days now and I’ve got nothing.”
He looked back at the paper and set his mouth in a fine line. “This document has blood on it.”
“It’s mine, chief. I promise,” she assured and a disturbing memory of Quinn kicking her in the ribs and her blood splattering over the carpet and scattered papers sent her reeling back in her seat for a second.
“Why do you need his name?”
“I just want to talk to him.”
“For what reason? Your father is gone.”
Veronica hesitated, swallowing back her fear and doubt she spoke with certainty she certainly didn’t have. “I need to know what happened to him, sir. I just have to. It’s been killing me for years. Maybe this man will know some detail that might put it to rest once and for all.”
The chief put the paper down and locked his hands together in front of him in his classic look of contemplation. She waited patiently for him to consider her request and it paid off.
“Mack Denton.”
Veronica felt her heart flutter with the name, but she wasn’t sure why.
“Is that short for something?” she asked without even understanding why.
Morro looked a little taken aback she would venture such a question and he raised a gray eyebrow. “Mackinaw,” he answered. “He’s one of the finest lieutenants I’ve ever met. Worked under your daddy at the academy.”
She shook her head and almost laughed because she felt like such a fool. Many months ago Brooke had asked Veronica if she’d ever been to Mackinaw. She had told Veronica it was there she thought she might find what she’d been looking for. Her foolishness turned to hopefulness in two seconds flat. Brooke hadn’t been talking about a place in Michigan after all.
“Do you know where I can find him?”
The chief looked like telling her went against his better judgment. Veronica was suddenly very happy she looked like she got hit by a semi-truck. It helped give her a few pity points and with that notion, she winced and held her side a little for effect.
“Last I heard he was running tour boats on the gulf after he was discharged from the service.”
Veronica tried to tug in the reins of her expectations. She never tried to get them up too high; that was just asking for disappointment. So she just nodded and her face remained dour.
“I don’t want you running off to Florida in your condition, Covey,” he barked, drawing her from that exact train of thought.
She looked up at him and shook her head. “Maybe I don’t have to.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, sitting back in his chair.
“I mean, I’ll agree to your witness protection program but only if you place me close enough I can talk with Denton.”
“It doesn’t work like that and you know it.”
“I think with your ranks, you might be able to pull a few strings? After all, I almost died solving a cold case and two murders just a couple days ago. Not to mention, I’ve taken out half the snakes in this department singlehandedly.”
Morro’s face squinted in doubt and he waved his hand. “Alright, alright, Covey. Shut the hell up. I want your head to fit through that door when you leave.”
His words made her smile and she rediscovered smiling with a facial fracture was pure agony.
“I’ll see what I can do,” was all he promised, but that was enough for Veronica because it didn’t matter if Morro could pulled the strings or not—she was going to find Mackinaw Denton with or without permission.
Please enjoy an excerpt from book two:
The Runaway Rogue: A Veronica Covey Case
Coming Soon
She rose up on the ball of her feet in her sneakers and tiptoed quietly back a couple steps as Mack dipped off the curb between two cars to cross the street. Veronica waited a second before continuing on only to realize with some alarm that he had disappeared. She could see his vehicle parked down the block next to the beach access sign, but he was nowhere near it. Her heart fluttered with concern and for good reason. Before she could turn and abort her mission, she felt strong hands on her shoulders. She was pulled back off the sidewalk and pressed into the side of a building in the shadows before she could react.
She defended herself with a move she had learned long ago in one of her very first ever self-defense classes, but it was blocked as quickly and efficiently as the next two moves she used thereafter.
She drew in a sharp breath as she was whirled around and pressed face-first into the concrete blocks of the building. Her arm was twisted behind her back and she was stuck for a moment in pure shock.
“Why are you following me?”
His voice was deep and raspy and Veronica shivered violently when the sound met her ears. His tone coupled with the way his breath hit the back of her neck as he spoke caused her to react in a way she hadn’t anticipated.
“I just want to talk,” she managed to say after taking a moment to recover. She thought her words might cause him to release her, but instead, she felt the large hand not pinning her arm back start to roam over her midriff. Within a second he had located her gun. He simultaneously pulled it from the waist of her jeans and released her arm, spinning her around and pushing her back into the building so they were facing one another while he still maintained complete control of the situation.
She placed her hands flat on the wall behind her and grappled at her self-control as she watched him release the clip in her gun and slid the bullets safely into his back pocket. The ease at which he handled her weapon told her he still knew his way around a gun even if he didn’t fire them for the military any longer.
“Most people just say hello,” he reasoned with a smirk that nearly made her come undone.
Admiring him from afar didn’t do him justice, Veronica realized, as she stared up into his neon-blue eyes. Eyes like she’d never seen before. The kind that made you wonder if they were real or some kind of fancy contact lens. The color in contrast to the black of his hair was somehow alarming and breathtaking at the same time. She hoped her years of training paid off and what she was feeling and thinking on the inside wasn’t evident on her face.
“And they don’t pack this kind of heat,” he stated, holding her hollowed gun up for reference.
She glanced at the flash of metal in the night and frowned. She wanted to get her gun back, but she also didn’t want to make any threatening moves.
He must have read something into her movements because he reached out and grabbed the waistband of her jeans, hauling her forward a little into his body. She should have kneed him in the crotch when the opportunity presented itself, but she was temporarily paralyzed by his actions, only to be jolted back to life by the electricity of his touch as he slipped the weapon back where he’d stolen it from. His hand lingered on the delicate flesh at the small of her back for a few seconds longer than they should have.
Veronica’s heart was beating faster than she cared to admit with that harmless little gesture. He slid his hand out from under her shirt and she felt her lungs expel the
breath she’d been holding. She looked up into his eyes and saw them twinkling with amusement. Suddenly, she was aware that he knew exactly what he was doing, and it appeared to be rather entertaining for him.
Coming to her senses a little, Veronica stepped away from him into the light of the sidewalk. As soon as her face was illuminated in the streetlamp, she saw Mack’s expression change. The color seemed to drain a little from his face and his brow crinkled in a troubling way.
“Veronica Covey,” he whispered.
She was stunned. Wait a minute, she clambered within her mind.
He knew her?
She couldn’t even formulate words at first and then it occurred to her he must have recognized her from her the pictures her father had in his office and classrooms. This thought gave her a sense of relief and she was finally able to speak.
“Can we talk?” she requested.
Mack’s teasing demeanor had changed completely and a darkness eclipsed those brilliant eyes. He took several steps away from her and scratched the back of his neck in a nervous manner.
“Mr. Denton?” Veronica stepped closer only to have him step further away.
“Come to the docks tomorrow,” he said quietly. “You know where they are.”
He retreated back toward his vehicle quickly as if Veronica had sprouted two heads, stopping only for a second to unlock the door. She stood there watching him intently, wondering why he looked so concerned by her arrival.
He knows something, she thought and her heart soared with hope.
He knows something! she thought again with more enthusiasm. Finally, after all this time her efforts were going to pay off. She was going to find out if her father was alive.
Don’t miss out on where it all began! Check out other works by LB Wyatt available for purchase on Amazon.com and your Kindle Store today!
Find LB Wyatt on Facebook or by email @ [email protected]
Oversight-Book One
Hollow-Book Two
Illusion-Book Three
