Shit!
“And you know, I’ve supported you even though you sinned. I will always support you. Which is why when you get the bill in the mail, I want you to bring it to me and let me pay for it,” she chastised me sternly, the only way a mother knew how. “And I told them where you and Michael worked, as well as Michael’s home address because you shouldn’t lie about something like that. Bill collectors are not fun to deal with. They’ll call you any time of day.”
I rolled my eyes.
Why wouldn’t she have just asked me herself, instead of sending a text to every one of my sisters?
“Why would you have given them my work address? And Michael’s? He’s not even on the chart at all. They shouldn’t even know his name.”
Had she been hoping that I wouldn’t hear it from my siblings?
“Lolita, this is Michael. Nikki’s paid up in full as of last week. Was it a man or a woman who called?” Michael asked abruptly.
“Oh, Michael! I didn’t know you and Nikki were together. How are you?” my mother asked, her Spanish accent getting a little thicker with affection now that she wasn’t yelling at her daughter.
“I’m okay, Lolita. Now was it a man or a woman who called?” He asked again, a little less polite this time.
My mother didn’t notice, or if she did, she didn’t care that he was being short with her.
“It was a man. He said he was the doctor, believe it or not. I couldn’t believe it when I spoke with him, but he seemed to be a really nice man,” Lolita chattered.
That’s when things started to make sense.
This wasn’t about any bills at all.
This was about a killer.
A killer who’d just put his sights on me.
Chapter 19
Michael
“Got a warrant to search his place yet?” I asked Luke.
Luke shook his head. “Not yet. Judge Maddox is out of town, and we had to go to Bender. He’s not our team’s biggest fan since the last warrant that was served was the one where that old lady broke her hip.”
I winced.
That had been a complete clusterfuck and a half.
We’d served an arrest warrant on a kid who’d been selling drugs out of his home, and we’d served it flawlessly, arresting the boy within seconds of breaching his home.
Then the old woman had come out using her walker and promptly tripped over her grandson who’d been lying on the floor in the middle of the living room, breaking her hip and arm in the process.
It’d been horrible, and I’d felt horrible, but in our defense, we had told her to stay where she was until we could get the boy out.
She hadn’t listened, and now we were still hearing about it three months later.
My eyes moved from Luke to the corner of the command room where Memphis and Nikki were on a computer looking at baby shit, of all things.
I smiled slightly, but it just as quickly fell from my face as I thought about how bad this all could’ve gone without my knowledge.
All because I was trying to protect myself.
Well, look where that got me.
My woman in trouble.
My child in danger.
Me in danger because I was fucking around.
Not to mention all of my colleagues and their wives.
I didn’t deserve to live sometimes.
I was a failure at life.
Then I shut those thoughts down, realizing them for what they were.
I’d forgotten my meds.
Shit!
“I need to go run by my place. I forgot to take my meds,” I told Luke. “I’ll be back in about ten minutes.”
Luke nodded.
“Got it,” he replied, keeping his eyes on his phone.
I got up, walking out without saying a thing to anyone else.
They were all pretty mad at me.
As they should be.
I was no good.
Fuck!
Stop!
By the time I’d arrived at my house, I’d gone through about five other bouts of talking down on myself before I could get to my meds.
I had the bottle in my hand and had just popped the pill when I realized that I wasn’t alone.
Rookie mistake.
Turning stiffly, I found myself faced with a man in all black.
“Where’s the wife?” he snarled.
That’s when I thanked my lucky stars that I hadn’t told Nikki where I was going and hadn’t asked her to go with me like I’d contemplated.
Thank Christ!
The gun pointed at my head didn’t instill any fear in my heart like the thought of the gun pointed at Nikki’s head.
I’d had this feeling before. The thought that I was going to die.
Nineteen times.
Each of those times I remembered with picture-perfect clarity.
And I was sure, if I made it out of this alive, that this time would be no different.
“Call her,” he ordered.
“Fuck you. I’m not calling her,” I told him, crossing my arms across my chest.
I knew if I could stall him, Luke would figure out something went wrong.
I wouldn’t have left and stayed home with the chance of the warrant coming in.
John, our computer expert, had already traced the calls to Lolita’s phone, and come up with the Women’s Center.
There were six people on duty at the Women’s Center at the time of the call, and only two of them were men. And one of them had been in the room with a patient for the entire time it took to place the call. So we’d done our research. And had come up with one man.
We’d applied for the arrest warrant for Stan Jones, M.D.
And I had a feeling that was who this man was in front of me.
“So, Stan. What are you going to do to me?” I asked, crossing my arms across my chest.
Stan froze.
“How do you know my name?” he asked stiffly, re-gripping the Glock in his hand.
I shrugged. “You fucked up.”
Simple words, but they really pissed him off.
“I did not fuck up!” he snarled. “I did everything right!”
See, serial killers had a certain way they did things.
They didn’t deviate.
Which was why I knew he wouldn’t shoot me until my ‘wife’ was here.
“What do you have against cops?” I asked calmly.
Stan’s eyes narrowed.
He had a hoody on, and it was covering his head, but since he was facing me, I could still get a pretty good indication of what he looked like.
About five foot ten, hundred and eighty-five pounds. Brown or really dark green eyes. Brown hair. Tan skin. Small hands with no wedding band.
Black pants. Black lace-up boots. Black hoody.
“You don’t need to know why. Just suffice it to say that this earth should be rid of you and every one of your kind,” Stan hissed.
My brows rose. “Really?”
He sneered. “Really.”
I laughed.
“Got it. How about I take a guess?” I asked.
I recalled the notes in the case.
The details of each doctor.
Stan’s page listed him as widowed.
Also listed him as not having any living children.
“Did we kill your wife?” I asked.
It was heartless, yes, but it was effective.
“Don’t you say her name!” he bellowed.
I refrained from saying that I ‘hadn’t said her name at all.’
Bingo.
“Did a cop take your kid, too? Or did your kid take his own life because your wife died?” I continued cruelly.
Stan shook his gun at me, waggling it around as he started to scream at me.
“It was all you! You! She did nothing to you! All she did was get pulled over, and then one of you,” he hissed. “Shot her becaus
e he thought she was going for a gun. She didn’t even know how to shoot a gun!”
He ended that explanation on a shrill scream.
I felt sympathetic.
Of course I did.
Accidental shootings happened.
It sucked, extremely, horribly bad, but it happened.
Cops, on a daily basis, had to deal with so much shit from everyone that, at times, we expected everyone to be bad.
When we pulled someone over, we aren’t happy to do it.
We’re wary.
When we pull you over, are you going to be accepting of why we pulled you over?
Will you rant and scream at us for doing our jobs?
Will you pull your gun on us? Pull out a knife from some hidden place inside your car and stab us with it. Will your passenger do something?
A car to most people is just that, a car.
A car to a police officer is a weapon.
It can run over us. It can hide larger weapons. It can get you away from us and put other people, innocent people, in jeopardy. It can house more than one person who could potentially harm us.
So you see, there are multiple facets to look at when a police officer pulls someone over.
All of this is running through our brain.
We have to be extremely cautious, doing what we do.
Whether this was what happened with Stan’s wife or not, I would never know.
But even if it was or wasn’t, that didn’t give him the right to take out his hurt and pain on every single police officer that he came into contact with.
“I’m sorry, Stan,” I said seriously.
And I was.
I was sorry he had to experience something like that.
I would hope, had the same thing happened to me, that I would find the strength to move on.
To make this world a better place.
I wouldn’t, however, start shooting and killing innocent people.
Especially ones who were carrying our next generation like these innocent women were doing.
“You can shove your sorries up your ass,” Stan snarled. “Sit down in that chair right there. We won’t have to wait much longer. I called your woman’s mother. I know she gets home around this time.”
I closed my eyes very briefly, thankful that this time wouldn’t be one of those times.
She was safe at KPD headquarters.
Thank God.
Stall. That’s all I had to do.
It’d been thirty minutes since I left.
And I knew Luke had seen right through my hasty exit.
He was very aware of my shortcomings, and I’d made sure that he was up to date on my state of mind.
He was aware that something wasn’t right, and I knew he’d come to check on me if I was gone longer than thirty minutes.
My disease and conditions were all about checks and balances.
I was very open with everything about me… to the right people.
I needed those people in my life to keep me on the straight and narrow.
Luke. My parents. My sister and brother. A few doctors.
Nikki.
I smiled slightly.
She had no clue just how much she helped.
“Why are you smiling?” Stan asked, ruining my good thoughts.
I shrugged. “No reason.”
His eyes narrowed.
And to keep him talking, and me breathing, I continued to ask questions.
“Why the cop’s wives? Why babies?” I asked carefully.
He sneered.
“Why would I want to bring more of those bastards into this world? Not by my hands, no sir.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t aiding in any more births to people like you.”
I shook my head.
The degree of his hate was staggering.
To take his problems out on innocent children was just jaw dropping to me.
“What would your wife think about all of this?” I asked softly.
Stan’s eye twitched, and it was long moments before he answered.
“Well, I’m not sure why she would even matter anymore. She’s gone, and I’ll never need to know what my wife thinks about any of this.” Stan’s voice broke. “Because she’s so gone. Gone, gone, gone.”
“She’s not gone,” I said softly. “She lives on in your memories.”
Shit, now I was quoting Big Hero 6!
I knew I shouldn’t have watched that movie with Reggie!
“She tells me I should think before I act. I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted, looking down at his hand and dropping his gun to the floor.
I didn’t move.
Not time yet.
My heart rate picked up when I saw the movement in the side window of my place.
A distinctly blonde head popped into the side window before disappearing just as quickly.
Luke.
Good.
Only a little bit longer now.
“Women have a way about them. They think they’re right… but most of the time they are right. I’ve found that out myself just the other day,” I told him, thinking back to the night Nikki saw me with Lisette. “They’re smart creatures, women. They instinctively know what is best for us, and they move heaven and earth to make us happy.”
And Nikki did do that.
Every day.
I saw that now, with the threat of my life being taken from me by a man who felt such pain over the loss of his own woman.
Stan’s eyes moved to the table, and my breath caught in my throat when I caught sight of the sonogram picture that I’d dropped there when I arrived home.
I’d seen it in the cab of the truck, and on instinct had grabbed it to make sure it wouldn’t get ruined.
Now the man who wanted to take her away from me was staring at it like it was the lowliest of life forms.
“Cops don’t deserve to have a happy life,” he muttered darkly. “You don’t deserve to live.”
He dropped down scooping the gun up off the floor and pointing it for real this time and I knew my time was up.
He wasn’t going to wait, and if I didn’t do something, I’d be lying in a pool of blood.
“May you rot in he—”
Boom!
I closed my eyes, sick to my stomach.
The smoking gun still in my hand.
Stan was dead before his body even met the floor.
“Shit!” Luke said, rounding the corner of the back hallway with his gun in his hand. “You scared the shit out of me, man!”
I raised my head and looked at my boss, and one of the best friends I’ve ever had.
“I don’t think we need the warrant anymore,” I said softly.
Luke’s face lit in a brief smile before he moved around the table where I was sitting and took a knee on the floor beside Stan’s prone body.
“Dead,” he confirmed, standing up. “Gotta call this in.”
With that, he put his phone up to his ear and reported the shooting.
Slowly, I placed my gun on the table by my right elbow and moved to stand.
Blood was slowly filling up the floor beneath Stan’s body and I had to step over it in order not to track it throughout the house.
“Want me to go outside?” I asked.
Luke shook his head.
He was the assistant chief as well as the SWAT team leader; so, as the more superior officer, I wanted to make sure I was where he wanted me, seeing as I’d just shot a man.
“We always miss all the fun!” James, with his sniper rifle in tow, whined.
“Sorry I couldn’t provide that for you,” I said with semi-amusement.
“He fucked up. His usual MO is to make the cop empty his pockets and get rid of the sidearm. Had he done that with you, he might still be alive,” Luke muttered, arms crossed across his chest as he glared at the dead man at his feet. “Fuckin’ paperwork. Did you get anything out of him?
”
I nodded.
“It was because of his wife. She was killed by a police officer during a traffic stop,” I explained what I knew.
“Fuckin’ A,” Miller growled.
“You found me faster than I thought you would,” I admitted to Luke.
“Put a BOLO out on his car. Stan drives a shiny Maserati. It’s hard to miss something like that driving down the road. Officer Lyons saw it the moment he pulled into the RV park to turn around. Was parked off to the side, as if he was broken down,” Miller explained. “Luke called you to tell you we had the warrant, you didn’t answer. He started to head this way because he said you didn’t look right and then passed the same RV park where the car was found. Put two and two together. Made twelve. End of story.”
I shook my head.
Amazing.
“Two and two make four, not twelve, dumbass,” Foster tittered from the front door.
Neither had breached the front door since they knew it was a crime scene, and I was talking through the screen door.
The entire team was occupying my patio furniture.
James was kicked back in the lounger. Miller and Foster on the couch. Bennett, Nico, and Downy were on the final three chairs with the umbrella over their heads, eyes closed.
And I had an irrational desire to tell them how much I loved them.
Would that be weird?
To have their support, and to know they were all there for me when I needed them was exactly what I needed in that moment.
All my self-doubts were gone.
And in its place was relief and thankfulness.
Relief that I had lived to breathe another day.
And thankfulness that I’d have good friends and a good woman around to do it with.
***
Later that night
Nikki walked into her bedroom, glanced at me, and went straight to the bathroom.
She was mad at me.
Hell, I was mad at me.
I’d left her thinking I’d be right back, and she hadn’t known where I’d gone. I hadn’t said goodbye. I didn’t even wave.
She also hadn’t known that my life had been in danger.
She only found out two hours later when I’d arrived back at the station and had promptly been whisked into questioning to answer a shit ton of questions.
I’d been put on administrative leave, pending an investigation, but I knew it would amount to nothing seeing as I had Luke to back me up one hundred percent of the way.
Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set Page 139
