Just as Viddy was about to reply, she squeaked and launched herself from the booth. “Shit, Kosher. You scared the fuck out of me.”
Surprised, I looked at her for a few long seconds before bending down to peer under the table.
That’s when I came nose to snout with a very large dog.
“Oh, he’s freakin’ beautiful,” I whispered, pulling a fry off my plate and offering the dog some food.
“Don’t feed him. He’ll get fat,” an amused male voice said in front of me.
Trance.
God, his eyes!
They were freaking beautiful. One blue, and one green.
He was handsome, of course, but his eyes were what made all the difference.
I could see why he was named Trance by the MC. Something Foster had told me during the various discussions we’d had about his family.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hedged, sneaking Kosher another fry.
He licked the fry from my hand, then swallowed it whole.
“Uh huh,” he agreed. “I can see that.”
I grinned unrepentantly at him. “Where’s Foster?”
He pointed to a room beyond the bar. “Something came up. I was sent in here to take you ladies home with me for a while. You can meet the puppies.”
“Puppies?” Mercy and I chirped at the same time.
We’d both done amazingly well at not hinting about wanting to know what was going on. It would be a losing battle. Something we both knew we wouldn’t be winning wholly for the fact that if Trance had wanted us to know, he’d have told us. Instead, he’d cleanly glossed over the two men having ‘something to do,’ and had told us what we were doing. And I was fairly sure he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Sighing, I said, “I’ll go with you on one condition.”
He raised his brow at me. “What’s that?”
I grinned.
***
“I want the white one,” Mercy said from her perch on the floor next to me.
Oakley, Trance’s daughter, picked up the white one and gave her to Mercy. “This one’s Daddy’s favorite. You can’t have her. You can have him, though.”
She pointed at the other white one. The one Trance’s son, Ford, was currently torturing…I mean holding.
“Your husband won’t let you have another one,” Trance drawled from his spot on the couch.
He was scratching Tequila’s head.
Tequila was the mother of the massive brood. She was also a trained K-9 officer, but Trance had never used her in the field.
Kosher was the father of the brood, and surprisingly protective of them all.
“How much longer do they need to stay with Tequila before they’re ready to be weaned?” Mercy asked, totally disregarding Trance’s comment.
“They were ready a week and a half ago, but Viddy here seems to think that we’re keeping them all, which we most definitely are not,” he said, directing that comment at his wife who was sitting on the chair beside her husband.
Viddy shot him a look. “It’s not that I want to keep them, it’s just that I want them to have really good homes. Homes that I can visit whenever I want to so I can check on them. Make sure they’re happy.”
I understood that.
Although I’d heard about the retired K-9 officer dying a year or two ago, I never connected them with anyone I knew until Viddy had mentioned it upon arriving at their home.
“So I can pawn them off on my brothers, make them pay, and you’re happy?” Trance asked hopefully.
She considered it for a moment, and when she didn’t find any problems with it, she answered simply. “Yes.”
He jumped off his chair. “Sold!”
Viddy laughed as I looked down at the puppy in my lap.
I currently had the brute of the bunch.
Trance and Viddy said that Ford had started calling him Morris, and I had to laugh.
“I have a bird named Boris. They’d be best friends,” I cooed, petting the beautiful black and brown puppy in my lap.
He seriously was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen.
“You have a bird?” Trance asked in disgust. “Aren’t they gross?”
I shook my head. “Surprisingly, no. He is annoying, though.”
“He says, ‘boom goes the dynamite’ when we fuck,” Foster drawled from the doorway.
I gasped, covering the closest child’s ears, which happened to be Ford’s. “Watch your mouth!”
He grinned. “I’m sure he’s heard worse.”
Trance snorted, not saying a word. Viddy, though, glared at her brother-in-law.
Grinning deviously at Foster, she turned her evil smile to me. “So Blake… did you know that Foster hates hearing the sound of a nail file? And his feet are ticklish? Oh, he’s afraid of heights, yet he doesn’t like to admit it. Or… mmmmppph.”
Foster covered her mouth. “Remember, sister dearest. I know things about you, too. I’m sure Trance would love to know what you got him for his birthday.”
“You wouldn’t.” She glared.
He grinned deviously. “Try me.”
She opened her mouth to, what I’d guess was, blast him, but she closed it with a snap. “To answer your earlier question, Blake. Yes, you can have the dog.”
“No, she can’t,” Foster tried.
“Why not?” I asked.
He scowled. “Because the apartment doesn’t allow pets.”
I could tell he was lying.
“Actually, Downy had Mocha there for months before he moved out. I’m pretty sure they won’t mind,” Miller said, coming into the kitchen with a beer for each of the brothers.
Foster punched Miller in the arm, making him rock back on his feet and laugh.
I smiled, enjoying the way the brothers teased each other.
I never had anything like that.
My parents had had another child a few years after I was born, but he’d been born stillborn. Something that had torn both of my parents up so badly that they never tried to have any more.
I looked down at the puppy in my arms. “Do you want to come home with me, Morris?”
“No! His name isn’t Morris anymore! It’s Molder!” Ford yelled loudly.
I blinked. “So it’s okay if I take Molder home with me?” I asked the little boy.
He studied me for a moment. “Yeah, I guess.”
Viddy giggled, slapping her husband on the arm. “That’s you coming out in him.”
He shrugged. “At least that’s a somewhat good thing. He’s got your temper, though.”
Viddy smiled widely at her husband. “That’s true.”
“Trance, did Mom tell you she was coming in in two weeks?” Miller asked, taking a seat on the floor beside his wife.
Trance shook his head. “No. Why?”
Foster took a seat on the couch directly behind me and moved me until I was leaning against his legs.
“She said she had some news, and that she wanted to tell us about it in person,” Foster said, scratching ‘Molder’s’ head.
“Are you sure you want a dog?” Foster whispered, interrupting the conversation I was listening to.
I nodded. “I’ve always wanted a dog. He’s cute, too.”
He sighed and pulled my hair backward until I looked up at him.
“You know that they shit and piss, and all that fun stuff, right?” he confirmed.
I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll ask Uncle Darren if I can bring him to work with me and keep him in his office.”
He snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over well.”
***
Later that night
“No. No dogs in the station,” Uncle Darren declared loudly through the phone.
I laughed. “Downy has a dog.”
“Downy’s dog is a trained police dog. Yours still doesn’t have control of his bladder. No. Not happening,” he confirmed.
/> “He’s coming with me. I’ll buy him a crate and everything,” I declared firmly.
It was my uncle’s turn to laugh. “You’re not special. I don’t allow anybody else’s dogs there. Why should I allow yours?”
I grinned, knowing I had him. “Because I’m your only niece and you love me?”
He sighed. “The first complaint I have about him, he’s gone. Understand?”
I hung up a happy woman.
“You’re so bad,” Foster said from the bed.
He was lying on his back, both hands propping his head up as he watched the ten o’clock news on the TV in front of him.
I took a freshly bathed Molder to the bathroom and closed him in.
He laid right down on the bathmat, practically flopping down with a sigh.
“Yes, yes I am,” I agreed as I crawled onto the bed.
I didn’t stop on what I’d come to call ‘my side’ though. Instead crawling to Foster’s side and depositing myself on his lap. Legs settling on either side of his legs.
“Tell me what’s going on,” I ordered, knowing I’d waited long enough.
He sighed and flipped off the TV with the TV changer before tossing it on the bedside table next him.
His hands settled on either side of my hips as he looked into my eyes.
God, he was so handsome.
His normally curly blonde hair was less curly, most likely because he’d spent a lot of time running his fingers through it. Something he did when he got worried or mad.
“We think we found the man responsible for shooting up your house,” he said finally.
I blinked. “How?”
He squeezed my hips slightly as he replayed something in his head.
His eyes went hard, but his voice went softer.
“There was a note on my truck door,” he finally said. “We pulled the camera’s feed from outside and found him. He was a brother of one of the men with The Dixie Wardens. A new member who had transferred down here from the Alabama chapter,” he explained.
“Okay,” I said. “So did you find him yet?”
He shook his head. “No. But I have someone on it. As soon as he finds him, he’ll let us know.”
I studied his face. Noting the slight crookedness of his nose, and the way he clenched and unclenched his teeth as he waited for what I had to say next.
“Should I be worried?” I asked.
He closed his eyes. “I’d like to say no. However, I’m not going to give you false hope. You need to be vigilant and make sure you’re never alone. But that’s also not saying that I can’t keep you safe. Which I’ll do. Okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
I knew he would, too. With his life.
Chapter 21
Daddies are protectors for life. Down to the very end.
-Words of wisdom
Foster
“What do you mean you haven’t found him yet?” I asked.
I was probably crazy as fuck for yelling at Lou “The Shank” Rhodes, but I couldn’t fucking help it.
“He’s hiding. He hasn’t been at his house in four days, and he hasn’t been to work in the same,” Lou growled.
I knew it wasn’t any easier for him, but there was only so much patience to be had.
“Silas is running his name through whatever database he uses. Gabe hasn’t found a damn thing on him other than his exemplary service record,” I growled.
Apparently, Quentin Ortiz was lucky as fuck. He’d managed to slip out of every single place we’d been able to locate the last four days.
His brother was willing to help and had given all the known addresses he could find to us, practically throwing his brother under the bus.
Apparently, Manny and Quentin didn’t get along all that well, and it showed.
Beep.
“Ahh, hold on, Lou. Manny’s calling me,” I said.
“Just call me back,” he said before hanging up.
I rolled my eyes and switched the line over.
“Hello?” I answered.
“He has a woman… or had a woman,” he said. “I remembered her last night. He used to talk about visiting her all the time before he got hurt and stuck in evidence. Her name’s like Cherry… or Mary or something.”
I winced. “Do you know where she lives?”
“From what I can remember, it was off Fifth Street. I’m driving that way now.”
“Good,” I said. “I’ll meet you at the Exxon at the corner.”
“Got it. See you in twenty.”
Swinging my cruiser around, I headed to the Exxon that was less than five minutes from my location.
Manny showed in the twenty he’d said he would, pulling up to my car opposite of me so we could talk through the window.
“I’ll point it out to you if I can,” he said.
I nodded and followed him.
It didn’t take long for him to find it.
In fact, it was the fourth house we passed.
He stopped, pulling over, and got out.
I did the same, meeting him in the middle of the sidewalk, both of us looking up at the simple yellow house.
It was nothing special, really.
Just a plain one-story house in the historical district of Kilgore.
Expensive to rent and more expensive to own.
“This it?” I asked.
He nodded. “This is it.”
Nodding, I picked up my phone and placed a call.
“I need you to run a check on something for me,” I said to Gabe.
“Shoot,” he said, fingers clicking on a computer.
“Address is 623 Fifth Street. Can you tell me who used to live there? Probably moved in the last year, because the neighbors think the woman left around that time,” I explained.
The keyboard continued to click as I waited impatiently for the results.
Then I was stunned.
“Berri Aleo was the most recent tenant.”
Mother. Fucker.
***
Shank
“You’re telling me that that weasel dick of an ex of hers did this?” I asked carefully for clarification.
My hand clenched as Foster began to explain.
“The house where Quinten used to be seen was last rented by Berri Aleo. David’s new fiancée. The same one he cheated on Blake with,” Foster clarified.
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, sickened beyond belief that someone that’d promised to love and protect my child, my little girl, had so little regard for her that he could do something like this.
It may have been only by association, but it was still because of him that it’d happened at all.
“What else has your man found?” I asked, standing up to gather my things that I would need.
“Newest address listed is as living with a one David Dewitt. Also has a rental apartment on South Tenth Street,” he answered. “I’m on the way there now.”
“No, you are not. You don’t need to have anything to do with this. Back off,” I ordered.
“You can’t order me to do anything,” Foster argued.
I laughed.
Watch me.
Hanging up, the next call was made to my brother.
“Hello?” Darren answered on the fourth ring.
“I need you to call in the SWAT team. Now.”
Chapter 22
My heart bleeds as I think about losing the man that I compared all my potential husband’s to.
-Blake
Foster
I was livid.
Shank had had me pulled into a fucking meeting, and there was not a damn thing I could do about it. Not if I wanted to keep my job.
Chief Rhodes had been careful to let me know that before hanging up, having called me personally.
I stomped into the Chief’s office, livid that I was here when I should be somewhere else.
“What’s going on?” I asked darkl
y.
The Chief looked up and sat back in his computer chair.
“What’d you do to piss him off?”
I shook my head. “Not a damn fucking thing. I found a lead on Quentin Ortiz. He told me to stay away. And made sure I did.”
“He what?” he asked, jackknifing up from his chair and standing up.
I nodded. “Yeah, I found him. Or might have. He’s staying at an apartment owned by the stupid cunt David Dewitt’s marrying.”
The Chief growled in frustration.
“Get the team and go. Now,” the Chief ordered.
I followed his directions, going to the war room, finding all of the men suited up and ready to go.
“What the fuck is going on?” Luke asked in frustration. “John says there’s been no call.”
Then the dispatcher’s voice, the one who worked with Blake, came over our radios. “Code 11. I repeat Code 11. 5211 South Tenth Street. Neighbors report shots fired and a police officer on scene being dragged through the front door.”
We moved as one.
I grabbed my clothes on the way out, changing in the back of Rita before we arrived on scene.
While I was doing so, I gave them a rundown of what I’d found so far.
“So, you have no idea what we’re going into, do you?” Bennett asked.
I shook my head. “No. Not a single idea.”
“John,” Luke said into his radio. “Tell me what you got.”
John was our computer man.
He could accomplish damn near anything with a computer, as long as it was under the letter of the law. Which was why I’d not brought him in on what I was having Gabe do for me.
He could’ve just as easily found the information out as well, but I didn’t want to bring anybody into it and have it turn sour. Something I expected would be the outcome of this day if we weren’t careful.
***
Shank
“You’re going to die.” I smiled.
I knew I was about to die myself, but it made me feel better to know he’d be going down with me.
Karma’s a bitch, motherfucker.
But I couldn’t get over the fact that I’d done something so monumentally stupid.
In my head, I was the badass that everyone thought I was, but in reality, I was a pissed off man trying to protect his daughter. A man who knew better than to enter a volatile situation without any foreword planning.
Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set Page 96
