Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set

by Lani Lynn Vale

  The agent nodded. “Good. Thanks.”

  “We have reason to believe that the man’s a practicing doctor in the area. Or a nurse. Or a midwife. Possibly a registrar at the hospital. Each woman that’s been killed, their only connection, is them being in the same doctor’s office that practices in the Ark-La-Tex. It’s a large one that has over eight offices and seven doctors serving it. Only four of the doctors travel over the state line, and we’ve made a note of those four in this chart,” Agent Palmer said, sliding the three of us a stack of papers.

  I scanned the names on the list as well as the pictures.

  I didn’t recognize any of them.

  “So what do you need from us?” Chief Rhodes asked bluntly.

  They both shook their head, but Palmer was the one to answer.

  “Nothing. Not yet anyway. We’ve already been privy to the reports, photos, and crime scene data. We just ask that, if you encounter another one of these, you call us. We’ve been working this case for a little over two years now, and so far we have just as much now as we did then. A bunch of nothing,” he said simply.

  I looked down at the papers in front of me, recording the faces of all the four doctors into my memory bank so I’d have it later if I had need of it.

  “As for why you’re here, Officer Perez, it’s just so that we can congratulate you on saving that child. He’s our first survivor, and I never wished more that a baby could talk than I do right now,” he said dejectedly.

  I completely agreed.

  I’d wished the same thing.

  I didn’t know what kind of heartless person could shoot an innocent baby like that, but whoever it was needed a single shot to the heart as his final coup de grâce.

  “So is it a coincidence that all these men are cops?” Chief Rhodes asked as he looked through his own folder.

  I flipped to the page behind the one I’d stopped looking at and saw what he was talking about.

  Longview Police. Kilgore Police. Shreveport Police. Gun Barrel Police. Gilmer Police. Bossier City Police. Benton Police. Tyler Police. Waskom Police. Hallsville Police.

  “What the fuck?” I exhaled.

  Not only did they kill pregnant women and babies, but the fucker was a cop killer as well.

  “So you have nothing, is what I’m understanding?” I asked carefully.

  The two of them nodded. “Nada.”

  I linked my fingers together and steepled them while tapping the first two together.

  I was a fidgeter.

  Like major.

  I couldn’t sit still for anything, something I’d learned to live with.

  It drove my friends and family nuts. It was what it was, though. Nothing I could do to change it.

  “I have a couple of people that might be able to help us, and Luke’s brother-in-law is a part of The Dixie Wardens MC. They’re in the town of Benton, Louisiana. One of the cities you named. He can talk to them and see what he can dig up. I can do the same through my resources. Go from there,” I offered.

  Both men looked at me, moved their eyes to Luke, then settled them on Chief Rhodes.

  “You vouched for them. If this gets leaked to the press, there’ll be public outrage. You understand that, right?” Agent Palmer confirmed.

  Agent Rhodes nodded. “My boys wouldn’t give this kind of information to just anyone. I trust them implicitly.”

  Finally, the two nodded and stood to leave. “Keep us informed, and we’ll do the same.”

  With that, they left, and the three of us sat there silently for a few long moments.

  “If this gets out, I’ll kick both of your asses,” the Chief rumbled.

  I smiled down at my hands before standing. “I’ll get it done on my part. Luke, you gonna talk to the Wardens?”

  Luke nodded and stood, pulling out his phone. “Yeah, I got it.”

  With that, we all split up, me heading to Free, and Luke heading to Louisiana.

  It was going to be a long rest of the day.

  Chapter 9

  Dear teenagers, complaining about life is like a toddler complaining about nap time. You’ve only seen the tip of the monster’s dick. Just fucking wait!

  -Michael’s secret thoughts

  Michael

  “Get up off the floor or I’ll make you get up,” I growled at the stupid teenager who’d tried to boost my truck.

  I’d had that bastard stolen twice, or nearly, in the same fuckin’ day, and this time I was not amused.

  “I didn’t do anything!” the boy yelled, refusing to move.

  With no other options, I moved the boy myself, all under the crowd’s watchful eyes as they watched the entire thing take place.

  Rolling him over onto his back I stared down at him in contempt.

  “What did you think you were going to do? How far did you think you could get? You nearly stole a police officer’s truck,” I hissed. “Not to mention I have GPS on it I could’ve activated. Then there’s the fact every cop in the city would be looking for you because you don’t steal something from a cop without consequences. You’d have every single cop in the state looking for your dumb ass. Not get the fuck up off the ground and go sit on the fuckin’ bench like I asked you.”

  He did.

  Reluctantly.

  Very reluctantly.

  The boy was fifteen, at most, with an attitude that said he usually got whatever the fuck he wanted.

  Well, not fucking today.

  I’d walked into the convenience store to get my receipt, but decided that I could use a Gatorade while I was in there.

  When I turned the corner of the snack aisle, I came upon the fifteen-year-old shoving candy bars down his pants.

  He wasn’t even being conspicuous about it.

  They were so full already that you could see the large bulge, as well as the orange wrappers sticking out the top of his pocket.

  Then he ran.

  I had to give it to the boy, he was quick.

  He’d made it past me and into the parking lot before I’d even pushed out the door after him.

  Lucky for me, and unlucky for him, I’d caught him at my truck.

  All he’d seen was a truck running with the windows down.

  Sadly, I still had the keys in my hand and had turned the truck off before he could even get it into drive.

  He’d looked at me like I was the grim reaper, as he should, since he’d been sitting in my truck.

  Then he tried to bail out the other side’s window, but only managed to fall on his face.

  “Why’d you steal those?” I asked, gesturing to the pile of candy bars and bottle of milk that was in a pile at his feet.

  He shrugged.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  A cruiser’s chirp-chirp of the siren going on and off quickly had me looking up as Miller, another member of the SWAT team, pulled up.

  He stepped out of the cruiser and moved his glasses up to the top of his head.

  “Saint,” Miller said, nodding his head.

  I nodded back, choosing not to call him on the use of the nickname that I hated.

  I was not a saint.

  Far from it, in fact.

  Now wasn’t the time or place for it, though.

  “What’cha got, Saint?” Miller asked, taking in the scene.

  “Fifteen or sixteen-year-old male stealing candy from the 7-11. I caught him red-handed, and he ran. Tried to get away fast by taking my truck, but he didn’t make it far. And here we are now. He was just about to tell us his name,” I explained lightly.

  Miller nodded. “What’s your name, boy?”

  The boy glared at Miller with all the heat and venom a fifteen-year-old could muster.

  I could’ve told him that he was wasting his time, but teenagers didn’t seem to have that comprehension when they were mad.

  When the boy refused, I shrugged and told him to stand.

  He didn’t.
>
  “You know, this can go one of two ways. One,” I said, holding up a finger. “You can just cooperate. Stand up, tell us your name, let us check you, and we’ll get you booked downtown. Or two, you can refuse to do all of those things, we can force you to do them, and you still go downtown.”

  The boy glared at me and then moved his gaze to a car at the far corner of the parking lot.

  Following his gaze, I narrowed my eyes when I saw what he was looking at.

  “Who’s in that car?” I asked, glancing back at the boy.

  He closed his lips tightly, then looked down at his feet.

  A shared glance with Miller had me walking over the pile of candy bars and milk to the car that was parked underneath the 7-11 sign.

  The closer I got, the more worried I became.

  Because I could see a car seat in the car.

  Two car seats.

  Holy shit.

  I opened the door with suddenly shaking hands, scared to death at what I’d find.

  I’d seen some bad shit in my time, but the moment I opened that door, I knew nothing could be worse.

  Two starving children looked up at me from hollowed eyes.

  Neither was crying, and neither looked particularly scared of me.

  Interested. Hopeful, maybe. Scared? No.

  “Miller,” I called loudly. “Put him in your car and get over here.”

  Miller tossed a look over his shoulder at me. I stepped back to allow him to see the closest car seat, and his eyes widened.

  His mouth dropped open, and he turned back to the kid that looked defeated.

  Now I understood why he’d stolen the candy bars.

  And the milk.

  I had no doubt in my mind now as to the character of the kid.

  Desperation makes a man do funny things.

  I picked up the smaller baby first.

  She felt extremely tiny in my hands.

  So tiny I couldn’t even gauge how old she was.

  Miller joined me as soon as I fit the baby into the crook of my arm, sidling up to my side.

  “What the fuck?” he asked in denial at what he was seeing.

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  It was more than obvious that the children hadn’t been well cared for.

  Their clothes were dirty.

  The car itself smelled horrid.

  The little boy in the car seat looked at the two of us with a smile, but that smile didn’t meet his eyes.

  The deep circles under his eyes, as well as the hollowness to them, showed that he was anything but healthy.

  “Get the other one,” I ordered.

  Miller circled around the car and picked up the boy from his car seat.

  The boy wrapped his skinny fingers around Miller’s mic cord and smiled so brightly that it hurt my heart.

  The little girl in my arms cooed, and I looked down in awe.

  As a police officer, there are times that you’re not going to experience nice things.

  Although this wasn’t the ideal situation, they were both alive and had a fighting chance that they didn’t have before.

  Something I counted as a check in my win column.

  I felt like I was carrying air as I walked back to the police cruiser.

  Miller didn’t look like he was carrying much more as he got on the mic.

  “I’ll need a bus here. Got two babies in need of some medical attention,” he said quietly, smiling down at the little boy who made a grab for his mic.

  The boy looked scared shitless the closer we got to Miller’s cruiser, and by the time I opened the door to the cruiser he looked like he was about ready to bail out. Straight through the glass window.

  “Alright son,” I said, dropping down to my knees beside him. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  He looked sort of green, but it was then that I noticed his heart was in his eyes as he looked at the children.

  “They’re mine,” he croaked.

  I blinked. “They’re yours?”

  He nodded.

  “Yeah,” he rasped.

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  He swallowed. “Fourteen. Fifteen in two months.”

  My heart started to race.

  “They’re yours,” I stated for clarification.

  He nodded again.

  “Yeah,” he confirmed.

  I looked up at Miller, then back at the boy.

  “What’s your name?” I asked softly.

  He looked down at his hands.

  “Madden,” he said quietly.

  “Madden, you’re not even old enough to be on your own yet. How do you have two kids? And why are you on your own? Where’s the baby’s mother?” I continued.

  He bit his lip and looked up at me with eyes that were shining with tears.

  “I stole them from her. She wasn’t taking care of them,” he cried. “Not like they needed to be taken care of.”

  I refrained from saying that he wasn’t doing too good of a job either and nodded my head. “Who’s the mother?”

  “She’s… she’s my stepmother. And I stole them away from her while her and my father were high. They were… doing stuff that I didn’t like. And she was smoking around the baby. I didn’t like that. I had to get them out. I had to. They would’ve died. She would’ve killed them,” he insisted pleadingly. “She already smoked and drank throughout her pregnancies. She didn’t even go to the hospital to have them!”

  I looked down at the baby in my arms, saw the frailness to her, and started to get mad.

  Not at him, no.

  But at the situation.

  “When did you take them?” I asked softly.

  He bit his lip. “Last night.”

  Jesus, so this was how they were from her, not him.

  “Alright, Madden. How about you come take a ride on the medic with your kids. From there we’ll figure this out, okay?”

  He nodded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands.

  “Thank you,” he croaked, voice cracking like all adolescent boys do at that age.

  Jesus, this was one sick, fucked up situation.

  Fucked Up. With a capital F and U.

  Chapter 10

  My brother has the best sister ever.

  -Coffee Cup

  Nikki

  “Go get your newspaper!” I said hurriedly the moment I pounded through Nico’s back door.

  Nico glared at me, still holding the door open. Georgia, being Georgia, did what I asked and ran to the front walk to get the newspaper.

  “Why didn’t you just get the newspaper on the way in?” Nico asked.

  His hair was a freakin’ mess.

  “The twins keep you up all night?” I asked cheekily.

  He glared.

  “Maybe you should take them for a night. Give me a little break,” he muttered.

  I blinked. “I’ve offered no less than thirty times since they were born. I’d love to watch them. You’d only have to convince yourself to let them go.”

  My brother was attached to his family.

  No matter the bitchin’ he did, he refused to let the twins, or Georgia, out of his sight.

  A few years ago, before he’d reconnected with Georgia, he’d gotten into a spot of trouble with a mafia boss.

  So much trouble that to save Georgia, he’d faked his death with the help of the CIA and the Texas Rangers. While he was ‘dead,’ he’d continued to search for the man responsible for putting his life and Georgia’s in jeopardy, finally finding him around the time the twins were born.

  Georgia, though, as well as the rest of our family, hadn’t been able to get over the fact that he’d ‘died.’

  We still had nightmares.

  Georgia and I spoke about that quite a bit.

  Nico wasn’t without his own nightmares, either.

  Although we all talked a good game, the entire leaving thing was hard on us all, some
thing that showed in the way Nico clung to his kids and wife and refused to let them get too far out of his reach.

  “Oh, my God! Saint’s on the front page!” Georgia squealed in excitement, jumping up and down in her nightgown.

  I jumped too, clapping my hands.

  “Isn’t that the cutest thing ever?” I asked in excitement.

  Georgia laughed and spread her paper out on the table.

  Nico leaned forward to study the picture.

  “Nice,” he said, laughing.

  Michael, the ultimate ‘I’m not cut out to be a father,’ was on his ass on the back of the cop car holding the tiniest of babies in his arms.

  The baby didn’t even look to be a month old, at most.

  He was gazing down at the little girl holding a pacifier in her mouth.

  His eyes were gazing at the small bundle, looking for all he was worth like a devoted father.

  Something I knew he’d be if he ever gave life a chance.

  “Was this not something you could’ve called for?” Nico asked after he read the story.

  I shrugged. “Sure I could have. But then I couldn’t annoy the shit out of you like I’m doing right now.”

  He lowered his eyes into a glare, and I plopped down into his lap.

  He grunted as my weight hit him.

  “Jesus, I think you’ve gained weight,” Nico teased.

  I wrapped my arms around his fat neck, although it wasn’t really fat, and squeezed for all I was worth.

  “Ackk!” he said as air escaped his lungs.

  I smiled down at him.

  “Now what were you saying?” I asked with a raised brow.

  He curled his lip at me.

  “Alright, Nik. Let me get dressed and we’ll head up there to see these babies,” Georgia said as she hustled out of the room.

  “Hey!” Nico said, standing.

  I held on for dear life, causing him to come down with me.

  Nico grappled for purchase, but I succeeded in pulling him down with my unexpected move of holding on while still going down.