by Jessie G
“Is Davin coming home?” Bethany spoke softly, her voice younger than he’d heard it in a long time. When he didn’t answer, she glared at him. “We’re not stupid, you know. You don’t have to protect Mom and I from whatever ugly things you and Dad think we don’t know. Terence was evil. I told you he was. I told you I was afraid of him and that when he looked at Davin, he was so angry. Why didn’t you listen to me?”
“Enough, Beth.” Claire’s sharp reprimand was so out of character that it shut her daughter right up. “I’m the one to blame, Ric.”
“Blame doesn’t matter at this point.” Other than Bethany, none of them were blameless and there was nothing they could do to change that. They couldn’t turn back time to get Terence the help he needed sooner, they couldn’t stop what he did to Davin, and they couldn’t bring him back from the dead. Harping on all the things they couldn’t do wouldn’t help them move forward.
“Maybe not, but—” Dante handed Alaric a drink before he sat beside his wife— "there’s something you need to know about that night.”
“You mean the night Terence raped Davin?” The words came out rougher than he intended, but it was the only way to get them out. If they couldn’t face the harsh reality of who Terence was and what he’d done to the man they claimed to love, then what was the point? “Say it, Dad. For Davin’s sake, we have to stop glossing over the truth.”
“I know.” But instead of saying the words, he looked at his wife and urged, “Go on, Claire, you have to tell him everything.”
“Davin was here that night. He called and said he needed some advice. You know his father was putting a lot of pressure on him to join the force. It wasn’t his dream, but he didn’t want to disappoint John any more than he wanted to disappoint you. We were in the den when Terence came down, stinking drunk as usual, and said he was going out. I was afraid he was going to kill himself or someone else driving in that condition, so I asked Davin to take him wherever he was going.” Head bowed, hands clasped tightly together, her voice shook as she admitted, “Davin wouldn’t have gone with him if I hadn’t asked.”
Such a simple, logical explanation for why Davin had gone off with Terence and one Alaric had never even considered. If Claire had asked for the sun and the moon, Davin would have done everything in his power to get them for her.
“I knew Terence was getting worse, but I didn’t see what Beth saw.” Claire huffed out a frustrated breath. “I was his mother and I didn’t see it. I didn’t know he was a danger to us or Davin or…anyone.”
There was no good response. Claire carried that guilt around for eight years and nothing he said would absolve her of it. She needed Davin’s forgiveness, not his, and Alaric knew his detective would give it because he would never want Claire to hurt for him.
“None of us knew what he was capable of.” Alaric tossed the planner Davin found at his father. “Terence is the one who’s been skimming from the accounts.”
For six months, they’d been working with auditors to find out who’d been stealing from the family business. Six months and Davin only had to glance at the book to see what they had refused to see.
Instead of looking, Dante clutched it to his chest and asked, “Why did he hate us?”
“Why?” Alaric didn’t bother to temper his annoyance. “Does it fucking matter why?”
It didn’t to him. Alaric remembered being overjoyed with the news that he was going to be a big brother. But even as a child, Terence was angry and destructive, and both only got worse with age. The problem was there was always an excuse. It was terrible twos, it was jealousy over a new baby, it was middle child syndrome, it was…all things they believed he would outgrow. He didn’t and because they didn’t understand ‘why’, Davin paid the price for all of those excuses.
Davin, who had fallen in love with the whole Bennett family. Davin, who thrived when Alaric’s parents accepted him with open arms and whose heart was big enough for a needy little sister. And Davin, who was targeted because all that love and acceptance made him a threat in Terence’s eyes. He deserved so much better from them. So much better than them.
“Of course, it matters. He was my son! I nurtured and cherished him just like I did you and your sister. Why did he want to hurt us? Why did he hate us so much?”
“He didn’t hate you, Mother, he wanted you all to himself!” Alaric shouted as rage burned through him. “Terence hated me for being born first and believed that you were giving me preferential treatment and better opportunities. He hated Bethany for taking his place as the baby and thought for sure you loved her more because she was a girl. Then I brought Davin home and you not only welcomed him, you loved him, and Terence couldn’t handle it. He’d been fighting for your attention for years and lashing out at anyone he believed was taking it away.”
Alaric brushed off the hand his father placed on his shoulder and said, “I honestly believe if he could have found a way to take me on directly without losing you, he would have. But he couldn’t, so he destroyed Davin’s life instead and I let him get away with it.”
The tumbler slipped from his hands, shattering on the slate. “I let him get away with it.”’
Chapter Nine
Davin
“All teams check in.”
With his motorcycle pulled onto the shoulder of 77th, he set the helmet aside and dug out his cell phone. It wasn’t uncommon to see a motorcyclist on the side of the road using the phone, so it was as good a cover as he could come up with on short notice. He had teams parked all along street, as well as inside and outside the nightclub where one of the uniforms was posing as the perp’s latest target.
Just a few hours earlier, Juan had raced into his office with a name and address for the guy who agreed to a date with their suspect. With no time to waste, Davin called Bobby Rain—the undercover cop he had already briefed—and arranged to meet him at the target’s home. Sam Whit didn’t believe them and hadn’t wanted to cooperate until Davin started showing pictures of the previous six victims. It took an hour, but Davin finally convinced Sam to change clothes with Bobby and agree to temporary protection.
Davin’s only worry was Sam’s dating profile picture. The artistic shot partially hid his face, which was a plus, and Sam swore he didn’t email any other pictures. At a glance, Bobby could pass, and he fit the part in age, build and coloring. But he knew their killer wasn’t stupid and if he was suspicious, if he looked too closely… It was a risk he didn’t like and one they had to take.
If all went according to plan, Bobby would soon get a text on the burner phone Sam had been instructed to bring, and then he would go outside where the perp would be waiting to pick him up. From there it was a straight shot to a number of secluded beaches—which was their only unknown. Thanks to a GPS tracker planted in Bobby’s shoe, they were able to let it play out until the last possible second.
“Pretty boy is flirting up a shit storm.” Rafael Mendez, Bobby’s long-time partner, had been determined to be inside the club so he could be close if Bobby needed him. The pair normally worked undercover assignments, and he imagined they’d done their fair share of crazy shit to get the job done, but Mendez did not sound happy.
“He’s got a part to play,” Davin reminded softly. The last thing he needed was for Mendez to blow their cover.
“I’m as straight as they come, Monroe, but if he keeps shaking his ass, I’m gonna start getting ideas.”
Shen Ling, who was undercover as a valet, snickered. “He’d like that Mendez, especially if you use that accent on him.”
“Fucker.”
“Just keep your eyes on our boy. His ass is counting on you,” Davin warned, earning several more snickers—which was to be expected when they were amped up and stuck waiting. “All right. The text should be coming in five and we need to be ready. Give me a vehicle check.”
Ridgeway answered first. “Got a late model Dodge Charger pulling up at the front. Florida plate ‘edward zero nine charlie alpha alpha.’ Sending photo now
. Read back and report.”
One of the team members patched in at the precinct responded to the request. “Read back ‘edward zero nine charlie alpha alpha’ is registered to a Cynthia Hayes. Brickell address.”
Ling chimed in as soon as she finished. “Little red corvette, top down, coming around the side. Image incoming. Florida plate ‘eight eight tommy three two victor.’ Read back and report.”
That back and forth continued until Mendez cut in. “Text received.”
Which meant their perp had arrived. “Come on people, which car is this fucker in?”
“The Caddy or the Jeep, neither driver has exited their vehicle.”
“Dispatch, anything suspicious about those registrations?”
“Negative, Detective.”
Narrowing it down to two was better than twenty and still not enough. “Mark them both.”
“Pretty boy has exited the building. Keep an eye on my partner, or heads will roll,” Mendez warned.
“Where’s he going?” Without being able to see for himself, Davin was counting on the team to provide intel, and when no one responded, he lost it. “Where the fuck is he going?”
“Jeep!” Ling shouted, finally. “He’s getting in the Jeep. Read back, green Jeep Wrangler, hard top, Georgia plate ‘cat apple cat hector michael three.’ CACHM3…shit! Catch me! His license plate says catch me.”
“Track that car, eyes and ears. I’ll stay five back, weave, cut him off. Just another reckless biker.” Jamming his helmet back on, Davin eased off the shoulder and slipped into traffic, revved the engine and started weaving, speeding, braking, and weaving again. He passed the Jeep on the passenger side and saw Bobby talking up a storm.
“He’s headed eastbound on the Dolphin Expressway,” he reported, thankful for the Bluetooth in his full-face helmet that enabled him to keep the line open and share intel with his team. “Give me possibilities, Juan.”
“If he stays on when the Dolphin turns into the MacArthur Causeway, he’ll pass Jungle Island, Palm Island, Star Island, Watson Island and the garbage collection station all between Museum Park and Miami Beach.”
“He’ll never get onto Palm or Star Island and Miami Beach will be too crowded with the festival tonight. Museum Park is a possibility, but it’s not really a beach. Do they still have the Seaplane base on Watson Island?”
“Affirmative.”
“Uh huh.” Is that romantic enough for you, you fucker? “All units in the area, that’s your location. Juan, get those coordinates out to the Coast Guard.”
“What’s he going to do? Swim away?”
“Could have a boat nearby. A contingency plan.”
“What if you're wrong?”
“Follow team is still in place, they won’t lose them.” Davin didn’t believe himself infallible, and if he was wrong, they would have to be ready because Bobby was counting on them. “Have the others take up position on the base. Make sure they ditch their cars in the museum lot and cross on foot. They’ve got about twelve minutes, maybe less.”
“Already done,” Juan muttered as if he wasn’t the one casting doubt. “There’s no good way for you to go in, Monroe. If you stick close to the Jeep, they’ll see you make the turn.”
He hated to leave Bobby, but he wasn’t the only motorcycle nearby. “Who’s behind me?”
Another voice crackled in his ear. “Tripp, sir.”
“Keep an eye on our boy, Tripp.” That was his only warning before he took off, pushing the bike to its limits as he weaved through traffic.
“Holy fuck, he just disappeared.”
“Crazy bastard.”
They were still grumbling when he skidded into the Museum parking lot and pulled the bike alongside a dumpster. Maybe he was crazy or maybe he was just determined. Did it matter as long as he got the job done? “What’s their location?”
“Coming off the exit now. I can’t believe you were right.” Juan’s voice crackled through the helmet’s Bluetooth just before Davin switched the phone to his other headset.
“I’m always right.”
“Is that why you almost crashed your bike into a dumpster?”
“Almost? Since when has that ever counted?”
Juan snorted. “Stick to the shadows, daredevil. Your company has arrived.”
There was no point in letting Juan know that the stretch between the parking lot and the trailers parked on the Seaplane base was completely barren. Not a palm tree or a bush for cover and with headlights in his peripheral vision, Davin had no choice except to wait until they were ahead of him and then come in from behind. Hopefully, they already had men in the sand who could hold the line until he could get there.
“Give me a roll call. Who’s already on the beach?”
“Harris, Monty, and Goodwin secure between the two trailers, sir.”
“Goldberg and Warren secure behind whatever fucking building this is, just south and east of the trailers, sir.”
As the names continued to come in, Davin was glad to know the area was swarming with police and pissed that he was stuck in the parking lot. From his vantage point, he saw the Jeep stop at the gate and watched as both men got out, then searched along the road until they found a break in the fence to wedge themselves through.
Between his bulk and his gear, there was no way he was slipping through the gap. “Please tell me there is an easier way in.”
“The gate is wide open on the left side of the trailers. Head toward the white truck. From there you’ll find the opening right across the road.” There was so many voices on the line that Davin had given up trying to figure out who was talking. When this was over, he’d personally thank each person and make sure to commit not only their voice, but their name and face to his memory. “Do you see it?”
“Got it. Where are they?”
“Walking toward the water. As long as you don’t make any noise, they won’t see you come across.”
That was the hope anyway. “Just keep talking to me, boys.”
“Just a romantic stroll along the water...”
“Oh, look at the moon. So pale and perfect, just like Bobby’s…”
“I don’t know how the hell Bobby can keep smiling with that bastard’s hands all over him.”
“Show’s about to start, boss. Better get those wings flapping.”
“I’m here.” He hadn’t made a sound, was barely breathing as he came up on the left of the trailer and got the two men in his sight. “What’s he doing with his right hand?”
“Fondling his prick?”
“That far to the right? There’s something in his pocket.” Something he’d want to keep close and access quickly. “Bet that fucker is fondling his knife.”
“Sick bastard.”
“Let’s go fuck up his night.”
“Easy now, we don’t want him to grab Bobby.” The last thing Davin needed was for him to use Bobby as a shield.
Palming his gun, he started forward, aware without looking that all the teams were doing the same silent shuffle forward. One inch at a time, they closed the net around the pair until the only possible escape route was the water. Hopefully, Juan remembered to call the Coast Guard.
Holding up a hand, Davin closed his fist, indicating that the teams should hold their positions. Then he purposely scuffed the ground with his next step, giving Bobby the signal for evasive tactics. The perp turned, hand clenching in his pocket as Bobby ducked and weaved, doing a little two-step to get out of reach.
Dancing on the beach is romantic, isn’t it, you fucker?
“Hands where I can see them.”
“My apologies, officer, we didn’t mean to trespass. My date and I just wanted a little privacy in this very romantic setting.” The man was handsome, Davin would give him that, especially when his lips curved up in a smooth smile to back up his even smoother words. “I can see now that it was a mistake and we truly are sorry. We’ll go. No harm, no foul.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
�
��Here.” He reached into his other pocket and pulled out a roll of cash. “How about a fancy dinner for you and your team. Does it work that way?”
“Did you just try to bribe an officer of the law?”
Bobby, god love him, gasped dramatically. “Wait, Nicky, I thought you were a cop!”
“Is that what he told you?” Davin quirked a brow and demanded, “Then show me your badge, Nicky, nice and easy.”
“You're gonna love me.” Juan’s voice crackled in his ear. “This asshole’s real name is Elias Ward.”
Elias Ward. Davin wanted to crow. He had a name, a face, and was ready to put an end to this nightmare.
“I never said I was a cop!” With the situation quickly escalating out of his control, Elias turned his glare on Bobby and snapped, “And shut the hell up! You’re not helping.”
“Oh, but he is, Elias.” Davin stressed the name, reveled in the man’s momentary shock, and wasn’t at all surprised when he tried to evade only to find himself blocked at every turn. “Elias Ward, you’re under the arrest for the murder of Jeremy Hargrove, Tom Carter, Mike Lawrence, Edward Lansky, Terence Bennett, and Julio Fernandez. Turn around, hands on your head.”
Calling the names had felt like vindication, justice, and they were the nails he was going to use to seal Elias Ward’s coffin shut.
“Are you crazy? Murder? Get the fuck out of here. I’m leaving.” Finding himself completely blocked, Elias turned toward him and growled, “Move now or you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”
“Do not take another step. Don’t even breathe wrong. I’d hate for one of my men to shoot you before we have a chance to talk.” Assured that his team would hold the line, Davin holstered his gun and reached to spin Elias around, slapping the cuffs on with a little more force than was necessary. “You got any weapons on you, Elias?”
Goldberg stepped up with a box as he started pulling from the bastard’s pockets, then called the contents as Davin bagged them and dropped them inside. “Cell phone, wallet, and what looks like a pharmacy supply of Xanax…whatcha gonna do with those, Elias? Second cell phone. Is that it?”
