“Well,” Jill said with a sigh, getting up, “here’s to another case solved, even if we can’t lead anyone away in cuffs.”
“Sometimes, answered questions are the most you can hope for.”
With a nod, Jill pulled open the door leading out to the bullpen and strode back to her desk. The newscast had moved on from Gregor’s press conference, now focusing on the weather forecast for the next seven days.
A balding man with a mustache waved his arms in front of a map of the greater Baltimore area, entirely too enthusiastic about the fact that it wasn’t supposed to rain for the next several days. Then again, Opening Day at Camden Yards was looking to be sunny and in the mid-70s -- about as perfect as baseball weather could get.
Once back to her desk, Jill frowned at the newspaper sitting atop her keyboard. That morning’s edition of the Sun featured a splash photograph of a window washer’s scaffolding hanging by the wires on one end, crooked and dangling only a couple stories off the ground. Jill’s mouth went dry. She recognized the photograph with disturbing clarity.
Above the photograph, the headline read in bold black letters:
MYSTERY WOMAN SAVES WINDOW WASHER
To read Stanley Erikson’s front-page story, an elderly man named Frank Duncan had been logging some overtime by doing some late-night window washing when a superhero fell onto his platform and nearly sent him teetering over. The account of that night’s commotion was far too accurate for Jill’s liking, and her found herself scanning the rest of the bullpen between paragraphs.
But there was no one else on the floor, save herself and the captain holed up in his office. Half of the uniforms were off-shift and the rest were on their lunch break. Detectives were out and about working on their own cases.
So who put the newspaper on her desk?
The Baltimore Police Department did not offer much in the way of a statement, telling the Sun that of greater concern was the murder that occurred in that building prior to the sighting. While no body was found, officials believe a murder took place in an abandoned office space on the 20th floor. Sources said there was no connection between the murder and the rumored sighting.
The investigation is still on-going.
As of press time, Duncan had not spoken to police.
Shoddy journalism aside -- a front-page story being published on little more than the eyewitness account of one person -- Jill hated that rumors were flying about her alter ego so soon. Technically, she had only told the old man not to mention her to the cops; in hindsight, she should have made sure he didn’t go talking to the press either.
Jill took comfort in the fact that the man’s description of her was vague and unbelievable. Baltimore was full of women with long brown hair -- as was every other major city -- and she was sure no one would believe the account of a metal face and a glowing red eye.
Her eyes again scanned the article.
According to Duncan, the woman’s bounty of acrobatic gifts were singlehandedly responsible for saving his life. He described the leather-clad woman as a taller, more athletic version of an Olympic gymnast who displayed a routine to which even the Russian judges would have to give high marks.
Hyperbole aside, Jill chewed on her lip and read the passage again.
The women’s bounty of acrobatic gifts…
Jill set the paper aside with a sideways grin. “Bounty…”
“What was that?”
She looked up from the paper with a start, unaware that Captain Richards had come out of his office and approached her desk. “Hm? Oh, nothing.”
“We got another one.” Richards handed Jill a folded-up slip of paper. “Body washed up near the Power Plant.”
Snatching the slip of paper out of her captain’s grasp, Jill bolted from her chair. Retrieving her badge and service piece from the top drawer of her desk, Jill let her eyes linger on the newspaper article. She found the passage that intrigued her most again, reading it once more before the sound of Captain Richards clearing his throat snapped her out of the moment.
“Sorry.” Jill smiled. “They’ll put any bullshit in the paper these days.”
Glad to see Daniel returning to his glass box, Jill strode to the elevator with renewed purpose. Once the elevator doors closed around her, she let a smile break out onto her face. She rode all the way to the parking structure under the building with just one word on her mind.
Bounty.
Also available from J.D. Cunegan
Bounty
(available in paperback and Kindle)
Coming Soon from J.D. Cunegan
Blood Ties
(Bounty novel #2, coming January 2016)
Notna
(coming late 2016/early 2017)
Behind the Badge
(Bounty novel #3, coming late 2016/early 2017)
Follow J.D. Cunegan on Twitter @JD_Cunegan.
Also, find J.D. Cunegan on both Facebook and Goodreads.
The following is a special preview of Blood Ties, the second novel in the Bounty series, which will be available in Kindle and paperback in January 2016.
For as long as Jill Andersen could remember, her father was a hero.
But heroes don’t commit murder, do they? The state of Maryland said Paul Andersen did just that, three times over, and was set to execute him for it. But Jill and the rest of her colleagues at the Baltimore Police Department come across the murder of a law student that leaves her hopeful that she can clear her father’s name.
While Jill and her colleagues work against the clock to clear her father’s name, new players emerge, hinting to a deeper, darker conspiracy than what was previously known. An enigmatic faction known as The Order reveals itself, and the mystery surrounding Paul’s alleged duplicity leaves more questions than answers.
Along the way, Jill must not only face the possibility that her father was not who she thought he was, but she must also face the prospect of her secret being revealed. The stakes are higher than ever in Blood Ties, the intense follow-up to J.D. Cunegan’s debut mystery Bounty.
Can Jill save her father before it’s too late? Will she even want to?
Chapter 1
Jill Andersen was nervous, to the point where she was reconsidering her dinner with Brian. Not because she didn’t want to spend time with him. Despite the chill between them in recent years, they were still family. If the next week were to unfold as Jill feared they would, her younger brother would soon be the only family she had left. Despite her nerves, Jill was glad to get a little dressed up for the occasion. There were only so many t-shirts and jeans she could wear to maintain comfort at crime scenes before the whole wardrobe became redundant.
Still, her salary being what it was -- the pitfalls of being a public employee during a fragile economic recovery -- Jill couldn’t get too fancy, so she figured her cleanest solid red button-down and a new pair of jeans would suffice. Her mother’s sapphire earrings hung from her earlobes, and Jill couldn’t help but glance at the watch her father bought her after she earned straight A’s as a freshman in high school.
They had decided upon the seafood mecca Phillips -- largely because of its location on the Inner Harbor, but also because it was one of Jill’s favorite spots and it was a place both she and Brian could afford on their salaries. The fact that they both worked within reasonable proximity to downtown Baltimore made the location even more convenient.
The waiter stopped by to hand Jill a glass of ice water as her phone buzzed. Cursing under her breath, just knowing it would be a new case, Jill swiped her thumb over the touchscreen. She sighed in relief upon realizing it wasn’t work; instead, Brian had texted her saying he was stuck on Pratt Street and would be there as soon as he could.
About fifteen minutes later, she heard his wheelchair against the hardwood. Brian was still in his suit, but his tie was gone and he had shaved that morning. He actually smiled when he laid eyes on his sister. Jill wanted to hug Brian as he approached the table, but she wasn’t sure how wise that idea
was, so as awkward as it felt, she waved and matched his smile.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” Brian flagged down the waiter and asked for a Coke and a menu. “I’m actually sort of surprised you came.”
Jill frowned. Were they were really about to start things off like this?
“Relax.” Brian chuckled and shook his head. “I meant it’s a wonder you didn’t get tied up at a crime scene or something.”
She exhaled in relief and giggled before taking a sip of water, giving her nerves a few moments to untangle themselves. He was trying to be funny, using his underrated sense of humor to break the ice. It wasn’t much, but considering so many conversations between them had amounted to little more than shouting matches, the change of pace was welcome. Jill tucked a wisp of hair behind her left ear, an excuse to make sure her skin graft was securely in place.
“Could say the same for you. I know the Watkins case is a pretty big deal.”
Brian scoffed. “So much so that it’s led the eleven o’clock news for each of the last three nights.” He chuckled, swirling the straw sticking out of his soda. “I almost ran over Ted Starnes’ feet yesterday leaving the courthouse. I’d say I feel bad about it, but that would be a lie.”
Jill laughed with a touch more confidence. The fact that Brian was being glib and saying more than three words at a time was a positive sign. They had a long way to go to heal the rift that had grown between them since his accident and her enlisting in the Army, but Jill was willing to take the victories wherever she could get them.
“Could he get workman’s comp for that?”
Brian cringed. “Let’s not find out.”
They gave the waiter their orders when he approached -- she went with her trusty crab cake dinner, while Brian opted for the lobster tail with cheddar mashed potatoes -- before his expression turned serious. Brian leaned forward with his elbows against the table, lowering his voice. “How’s Dad?”
Jill shook her head. “More and more withdrawn every time I see him.”
Brian nodded. “He’s preparing himself for the inevitable, I’d imagine.” Seeing the look in Jill’s eyes, and knowing she was likely about to once again proclaim his innocence, Brian reached across the table to cradle her hand into his own. “Look, I know… how can someone who’s so clearly innocent just accept being put to death by the state he served? I don’t disagree, Jill, but… how many years has it been? How many appeals have his lawyers filed? I’d imagine even Paul Andersen reached a point where he decided enough was enough.”
“It’s not fair…” Jill’s voice was far weaker than intended.
“I know.” Brian gave Jill’s hand a soft squeeze before withdrawing. “You want so badly to do something, but you can’t.”
“I keep going over the files.” Jill hadn’t planned for the night’s dinner to get so heavy, but here they were, and Jill figured that if she was really going to set things right with her brother, being open and honest was a good way to start.
To an extent, of course. There was one secret she was still adamant about keeping. “Police files, court transcripts, autopsy recaps… I keep waiting for that a-ha! moment.” She stared at a random spot on the table. “But I’m stuck.”
Brian knew he had to tread lightly, chewing on the inside of his lip before speaking. “Don’t hate me for what I’m about to say… but is it possible there isn’t anything else?”
“No!” Jill cringed at how defensive that came across, and her shoulders slumped. “I mean… I don’t want to think that.”
“Neither do I.”
The waiter showed up with their food. Brian took a few moments to squeeze his lemon wedge over the lobster tail, stirring the butter sauce with his fork without really paying attention to it. Brian was stalling, pursing his next words lest he ruin whatever tenuous progress they had made.
Fortunately, Jill spoke up for him.
“I mean… I know what the evidence says. It’s a slam-dunk case.” She shook her head and jabbed her fork into one of the crab cakes. “And I don’t want to insinuate that everyone involved with the investigation was inept or corrupt…”
“But it beats the reality that our father’s a serial killer?”
Jill deflated as she stabbed a broccoli stalk. “Yeah…”
The pair ate in silence until their plates were clean. Despite the heaviness of their earlier conversation, it was nice for Jill to again share a meal with her brother. It was even better that he ordered actual seafood, since they were at a seafood restaurant. Brian was just as much a son of Baltimore as Jill was a daughter of the city, and he knew what was what when it came to Charm City’s seafood.
They opted out of dessert, choosing instead to bide their time and catch up. Brian’s deposition wasn’t until eleven the next morning, and starting at midnight, Jill wasn’t on-call for the next two days. They had time to kill.
“Look, Brian… I’m sorry. For not being there.”
Brian’s expression hardened at the memory, but softened once what Jill said had registered. He sat back in his chair and twiddled his thumbs. “Yeah, uh… I am too.”
“What for?”
“I’ve been unfair to you. Ever since my accident. I know you didn’t bail on me. I know you would’ve called or visited sooner if you could.” Brian polished off the rest of his Coke, shaking his head when the waiter came by to ask if he wanted a refill. “I guess… with everything that’s happened to this family, the accident was my breaking point, you know? I had all of this untapped rage and I had to direct it somewhere.”
Jill nodded. “And I was an easy target, being the only other one left.”
Brian hung his head. “Yeah…”
“I probably would’ve acted the same way.” Jill shrugged. “Hell, I think the only reason I didn’t was because of my time in the Army. Firing a fully automatic rifle into an enemy bunker in the dead of night is surprisingly cathartic.”
Brian nodded. “Watching a member of your platoon lose his leg in an IED blast… not so much.”
The waiter returned -- his timing was impeccable -- and Brian paid the check before Jill had a chance to protest. She smiled when the waiter left to process payment, running a hand along the back of her neck. “I’m glad we did this.”
Brian’s smile matched his sister’s. “Me too.”
“Maybe one night you can join me for dinner with Dan and Evelyn.” Her smile broadened when Brian cocked his head to the side. “I have dinner with them once a week. I know you weren’t as close to them as me, but I think they’d be glad to have you.”
“I’d like that.”
Jill’s phone buzzing ruined the moment, and she rolled her eyes because she knew this time, it would be a case. She glanced at her watch. It was almost nine at night. With a cringe, she checked the text from her partner giving her the address.
“Work?”
“Yeah.” Jill stood and made a face, pocketing her phone. “I wish murderers worked 9-to-5 like everyone else.”
Brian laughed. “I don’t know anyone who works 9-to-5 anymore.”
“True.” She dropped to a knee to give Brian a quick, admittedly awkward hug. Just as she was about to let go, Brian slipped both arms around her shoulders and squeezed. She smiled into his shoulder before forcing herself to pull out of the embrace. She had forgotten how comforting a hug from her brother could be. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Don’t work too hard.”
Brian grinned. “Right back atcha.”
Chapter 2
Ramon Gutierrez stood next to a rusted trash can on the corner of Lovegrove and Chase, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his tan overcoat. Crime scene tape blocked off the intersection behind him. Red and blue lights flickered off the buildings and the damp streets. Ramon bounced on the balls of his feet, sucking in his cheeks and staring into the sky. He wasn’t going to get sick at the crime scene. Not this time. Nope, Ramon’s days of burying his head in a trash can upon seeing a dead body were just about over.
Then again, this was another gruesome one. He kept his distance while Juanita Gutierrez, his older sister and the Baltimore Police Department’s top medical examiner, took her time with the victim.
Ramon checked his phone and swallowed hard. Jill would show up soon. If nothing else, his partner’s company would distract Ramon from the rumbling in his gut. He kept dinner light most nights, knowing his job had a knack for throwing him into the line of duty in the most inopportune moments. He was bound and determined to break this particular… he didn’t know if habit was the right word, but it was the best he could come up with.
Uniforms were wrapping up the preliminaries, blocking off more of the area with yellow tape: CRIME SCENE – DO NOT CROSS. The only witness was the woman who had called 9-1-1 upon discovering the body, and Officer Sorenson had already taken her statement. Ramon knew Jill would want to talk to her as well once she arrived, which was why the woman was standing on the corner, nursing a steaming mug of coffee. She mimed sipping, but Ramon could tell she wasn’t ingesting anything. Something they had in common.
Where was Jill, anyway?
Sorenson approached Ramon with one of those shit-eating grins and a shake of his head. “Look at it this way, Gutierrez.” The uniform shrugged. “Even if you do yak tonight, it’ll be a new personal record. Time was, you were retching as soon as you stepped out of the car.”
“Trying to tell me I’m making progress, Greg?”
“Hey, if it helps you sleep at night.” Sorenson glanced over Ramon’s shoulder. “Where’s the hero?”
Ramon had to bite back the smirk. Ever since the Roberts case, many in the department had taken to calling Jill a hero. They did so in a teasing manner, the way cops always did, but Ramon appreciated the irony of it because they had no idea just how on the mark they really were. As far as they knew, Jill fought back the murderer after being attacked in her own home; the truth went much deeper than that.
Boundless: A Bounty Short Page 5
