Kobe, Bad Blood (Blood Roses Book 1)

by Danielle Norman

  My anger continued to rise. “You better find out who did this, and you better arrest them. Because Jared was a good person, and he didn’t deserve it.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t.” The detective was placating.

  All of this infuriated me because the detective could go home to his family and laugh about stupid things, I would never laugh again.

  Easton

  Dirt.

  I could tell you with unascertainable doubt what dirt smelled like. It smelled like the wall of the outside of my house.

  There had been a knock on my door and as soon as I answered, a cop had his hands on me and was pulling me out on to my front porch.

  “Easton Crandall, you are under arrest for the murder of Jared Brogan.” The officer had his hand on the nape of my neck and was pushing my face forward. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you.” He slapped handcuffs on me before I even had a chance to react, argue, or even state my case.

  “Easton? Easton!” My heart dropped into my stomach as I glanced to my left and saw Kobe, my best friend’s little sister, she was standing next to her car just staring at me, her dark brown eyes wide in disbelief. “Easton…”

  “Can I talk to her?” I asked the officer holding me.

  “Nope.” Was his one word reply.

  “Did you do it?” Kobe asked as the officer led me from my house.

  I shook my head as a lone tear rolled down my face.

  “I believe you.” Her words would stay with me forever.

  Had it really been only twenty-one hours since I was arrested? It felt like years. They had gone through the typical procedures when I arrived at the jail, taking my fingerprints, my mugshot, and searching my...everywhere.

  How? How had they come up with their conclusion that it was me? There was no way I could be standing next to Jared and be in the car that drove by. Hell, I was skimmed by a bullet, I’m the one who called for help, I was the one who held Jared’s hand praying that this was all a bad nightmare.

  I paced my cell all night, back and forth, while cracking my knuckles and facing the fact that I knew who had been in that car which also meant if I snitched it was the same as giving myself a death sentence. I only paused my pacing when an officer brought a tray to my cell.

  “Go to the far corner and turn around facing the wall,” the officer ordered.

  I did as requested and waited. From the sound of the clicks the officer had opened the slot in my door. I knew why they did this, I’d only been here a short time and had seen other inmates try to throw stuff at the officers including urine and shit even though the only way to hit the officer from here was by pure luck.

  The officer relocked my cell door slot and stepped back. “Enjoy your breakfast.”

  They had served me some mix of oatmeal for breakfast, but it looked like vomit. I’m sure that there would be a time that I didn’t care about the look but right now, I wasn’t starving so I pushed the tray away from me. A thought hit me, starvation would be a long, slow death. Was there a quicker way?

  It wasn’t an hour later when the officer returned. “You have a visitor,” he said through the slot. I peered through. “Turn around and put your hands through the slot,” the officer ordered. I obliged, still trying to figure out who the visitor was. The officer handcuffed me before opening the cell door as though I was so dangerous that I might knock him out the first chance I got, but that didn’t make me a murderer.

  I sat on one side of a glass partition, figuring this was going to be the public defender. To my right was an old style phone in vomit green. The twenty-one hours before had meant nothing in comparison to this one moment, seeing the phone on the wall and knowing that would be how I would communicate with everyone I loved for the rest of my life.

  Kobe, with her rainbow colored pixie cut plopped down on the stool on the other side of the glass. Not who I was expecting. She picked up the phone quickly, reminding me that I should probably do the same. I reached for the phone in slow motion, it clicked as I took it off the stand. When I pressed it to my ear, she started talking immediately.

  “Easton, you didn’t do it, did you?”

  I shook my head. How could she doubt me? I was Jared’s best friend, his brother. “No,” I said, reinforcing my shake of the head from the day before. Kobe stared at me, her deep brown eyes indicating that she knew there was something I wasn’t telling her. Well, I couldn’t tell her anything else. She didn’t need to be digging into his death, because it could only lead to trouble for her.

  “Do you know who did?” She paused, then continued on, in a rush of just needing to talk to someone. “I can’t let them get away with it. Jared was innocent. He shouldn’t have had to die. He should be here with me, and you shouldn’t be in there.”

  I just nodded and let her talk.

  “There has to be some clues about what happened. I’m going to talk to the police, and if you didn’t do it, then you shouldn’t be in here. If I can help find out who did it, then you could go free.”

  I swallowed. I didn’t want to hope, because hope lost would be worse than never having hope at the beginning. “Kobe, I don’t think you should dig into it. I didn’t do it. I’ll get a lawyer, and they’ll help prove it. I won’t serve time for something I didn’t do.”

  Kobe nodded, blinking her eyes several times to control the tears. I wanted to reach through the glass and put an arm around her the way I had just a week ago at the small graveside funeral for Jared.

  I was suddenly aware of all the time we had lost. I had always been Jared’s best friend, and I had teased her mercilessly like a kid sister. But she wasn’t a kid sister now. She was beautiful, and it was too late. Maybe my mind was just going crazy as I faced the loss of freedom. But dammit, she had always been so beautiful and now who was going to look out for her?

  “Listen to me, let this go. Don’t go trying to be a hero.” I glanced around to see if anyone was listening to me then lowered my voice. “If this was a gang, you can’t put yourself into it.”

  “Easton, you’re not my brother, you can’t tell me what to do. If I want to hunt down his killer, then I’m going to do it. What else do I have to live for?” Her voice broke. I knew that she had come here to talk about her brother, but I wanted to change the subject. Soon, a lawyer would get me out of here, and we would put the whole thing behind us. The police were too cowardly to go after the real killer, even if I believed all the evidence pointed that way.

  “How are you, really?” I studied her eyes.

  Kobe shrugged, looking down. Clearly, there was something she didn’t want to tell me. “I got a visit from a case worker,” she finally answered.

  “You want me to contact my dad, or you can, and he’ll let you stay with him until you’re eighteen.”

  Kobe just shrugged again, as if her own welfare didn’t matter. But as much as she didn’t want to admit it, what happened to her was more important than her finding the person responsible for Jared’s death. I looked around me once more. There was a guard standing a few feet away, staring into the distance like he wasn’t listening. Everyone knew he was. In fact, our conversations were recorded. Even with him there, though, no other prisoners could overhear me and mark me as an easy target.

  I leaned forward and whispered as if she could hear me better even with the phone receiver against my face, “I care about you, Kobe. I know this is hard, but you have to keep moving forward with your life. Make decisions that would make Jared proud.”

  Kobe’s face hardened. Her eyes narrowed. “Finding Jared’s killer is the only way to give him justice. I won’t deny him that and neither should you. If you try to stop me, then I’m not going to visit you anymore.”

  “Kobe...” But she was already putting the phone on the hook. She stared at me a minute more through the glass, but she couldn’t hear me. I did the only thing I could think of. I pushed the sleeve up my arm and showed her the tattoo that matched her brother’s. We ha
d gotten them together when we turned seventeen—our birthdays were three days apart—and it meant that no matter what, our bond would always be stronger than blood. Kobe’s eyes flitted down to the tattoo. I knew she recognized it, but she just pressed her lips into a thin line, stood, and left the room. I only had a moment before the guard was scooping me back into my cell again. How was I supposed to protect Kobe if I was in jail?

  Kobe

  Four Years Later...

  I willingly walked into the sheriff station, the same sheriff station where I was interviewed after my brother’s death four years earlier. The memory of them questioning me about my whereabouts when my brother died, had me curling my fists as I allowed the memories to fuel my anger and moving me forward in my mission.

  “Is Detective Getty here?” I asked the woman behind the desk. She nodded and pointed to the row of chairs behind me.

  “You mean Captain Getty?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “Mark Getty,” I clarified.

  “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll let him know you’re here. What’s your name?”

  “Kobe Brogan.”

  I had not come here since my brother’s death, and I wasn’t sure whether the man would even remember me or not. Hell, for all I knew, Jared was just another faceless murder victim to him. But I was desperate, I needed someone backing me up as I was finally able to put my action plan into place to discover Jared’s killer. I never thought I would see the day I trusted a cop more than anyone in my life, but since I didn’t have anyone else, it was the best that I could do.

  “You can go on back,” the woman said a moment later. He’s in the second office on the right. I walked back with steady steps. I had already decided my plan—I just needed to know if I had backup when the time came. If I didn’t, that wouldn’t stop me from moving forward—it would just change my expectations.

  I raised one hand to knock and noticed the placard on the door read, Captain Mark Getty.

  “Come on in, Kobe.”

  “Thanks,” I responded, eager to focus on the business at hand. “I’m not here for a social call.”

  “Didn’t think you were. Have a seat.”

  “I’m here because your department has done nothing to find out who killed my brother, so I’m going to.” With each word I spoke, anger in me began to boil. “I’ve got it all figured out. I just wanted to tell you because, well…I thought someone should know.”

  Captain Getty leaned back in his chair as though I had just hit him with a bullet and he needed a moment to absorb the impact. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “No. I thought once Easton Crandall was released that you would find the real person of interest and then arrest that person, but you didn’t.”

  “Easton Crandall was released because we didn’t have enough evidence to hold him, but I still think he had something to do with your brother’s death,” Captain Getty stated matter-of-factly.

  “So you arrested him because of what? What evidence did you have? None. That’s how much. Instead of continuing to look, you shrugged it off and decided it wasn’t worth it. So, I’m going to solve this, and when I do, I expect your department to do its part and charge the assholes.”

  “Of course, we’ll charge them. But you need proof and the reason no one else was ever arrested for your brother’s death is because we never had any. They won’t just offer up that information and I guarantee you that the gun they used is long gone.”

  I pressed my lips together. “They won’t tell a cop anything, but I’m not a cop.” I relaxed a bit because he was listening. “I just started working at Sasha’s.”

  “Are you out of your mind? That woman, Sasha Raycroft, she runs with the DT Coyotes, it is their hangout. If she or anyone in that gang finds out who you are…you’ll be dead on sight.”

  “I just need to work there long enough to get the info that I need.”

  “So, you’re going to become part of the gang and get insider information, be the informant that all of the other members won’t be because they’re scared?” Captain Getty sighed as he summed up my plan. “This is a stupid idea.”

  I blinked but didn’t waver.

  “I don’t approve of you putting yourself in danger. You’ve suffered through so much these past years. You should let it go, get a college degree, really make something for yourself. I know Jared would want to see you living for something positive.”

  “I can do that once I’ve dealt with this first. I can’t live with myself if I just leave this alone.”

  “I’m not your father, I can’t tell you what to do,” he finally said in a dismissive way. “Come see me if you need help,” he finally added.

  “Thanks. But I probably shouldn’t come here anymore. I mean, if I go through with this plan...” I was going to go through with it.

  Captain Getty sighed. “Remember that if you break the law, I’ll still have to arrest you. You have my number. Let me know if you need anything or you need me to knock some sense into you.”

  “I will,” I said, standing and tossing my hair over my shoulder. “I will,” I repeated.

  Kobe

  I groaned as I used every ounce of energy I had to lift the barbell from the gym mat. Struggling and focusing on form, I pushed the weight high above my head and stood in triumph as the men in front of me paused their bicep curls and stared. Few things made me happier than showing off a little.

  With a victorious smile, I dropped the weight, and the metal hit the floor with a resounding bang that echoed off the metal walls.

  One of the men let out a soft whistle as I shook out my muscles and cracked my neck before grasping the barbell once more. Every time I did this, it got a little bit easier. God knew the first time felt nearly impossible, but after a few months of training, my body became attuned to the physical strain.

  I wasn’t always like this, though. After my brother was murdered, I had no other choice. I needed to turn my body into a weapon so that I could protect myself. Whenever I was tired of working out, I pictured their faces, and a second wave of adrenaline coursed through my sore muscles.

  I raised my arms and the crossed them and slowly lowered the weight, knowing full well that the other member’s eyes were still on me. I was used to their stares.

  Each week I added on a couple more pounds, and the strength came, slowly but surely.

  “Hey, Kobe,” my coach called, and I dropped the barbell.

  “What’s up?” I asked as I tightened my ponytail and turned to him.“We have a new student, I think that she would be a great sparring partner.” I gave him a dumbfounded look. He wanted me to spar with a noob. “Don’t make that face. The girl has obviously had training. She has a black belt in Taekwondo. Plus, she has an attitude. I think you guys will get along fine.”

  I wiped my sweaty hands on my shorts. “Where is she?”

  “Over there.” He motioned across the open gym where the brunette was practicing kickboxing with a dummy. “She might even be able to teach you a thing or two.”

  “Yo, Ridley,” Coach called as he crossed the worn blue mat.

  “Sir,” she replied, not sparing him a glance as she continued to pound the dummy.

  “Here’s the girl I told you about.” He turned to me, his blue eyes bright with enthusiasm. “This is Kobe, and she has been looking for a sparring partner. I think you guys will really hit it off.”

  A loud clatter reverberated through the gym as Coach whirled around. “Bennett, put that goddamn thing down before you kill yourself.”

  I looked over my shoulder as a scrawny teenage boy attempted to lift the barbell from the mat and had no spotter.

  Coach was already walking toward the kid, so I turned back to Ridley. She extended a hand.

  “Hey, I’m Kobe.” I slipped off one glove, and extended a hand to shake hers.

  “Ridley,” she introduced herself.

  “So, you’re looking for a sparring partner too?” I asked as I grabbed the extra set of punch mit
ts on the floor.

  “I’m always looking for a sparring partner.” Ridley blew a puff of air to brush bangs from her eyes, her long ponytail swung behind her.

  “Always?”

  “Yep, I’ve yet to find another girl to spar with and guys...well, they either have some misplaced chivalry that they can’t fight a girl, or they get pissed when I kick their ass and end up refusing to partner with me.”

  “Amen.” I laughed as I raised my mitts. “Let’s go.”

  I took a careful step toward her as her first punch landed hard against the mitt, jerking my arm back. “Damn,” I said, impressed at the force.

  She was fast, and she hit hard, but nothing I couldn’t handle.

  “You’re good,” I said as her cheeks flushed from the increase exertion.

  “Thanks. Kobe, right? Where do you work?” she asked and hammered into the mitt. I contemplated for a second before I answered her. I didn’t use my real name at work. If she came there and asked for Kobe, it would…well, it would be the end of me.

  “If you don’t want to tell me you don’t have to.” She threw a right hook.

  “Sasha’s,” I said, my arm straining under the impact. “I don’t use my real name there.”

  She paused and lowered her hands. “That place is a dump.”

  “Yep, which is why I don’t use my real name.” Her comment was the perfect play I needed. “I don’t want any of the creepy bar-goers to look me up,” I said and then braced for the next punch.

  “Do you like working there?” She struck again, a loud smack against polyurethane and foam.