Broken (The Raiford Chronicles #3 Book 1)

by Janet Taylor-Perry

  "She's great," Parker said. "It's really nice to hear Uncle Raif laugh again, to see his smile. He has been through enough. I love watching the light in his eyes."

  "I agree," Brian said. "Raif is a really good guy. His capacity for love astounds me. He even brought that old voodoo queen here because she loves Neely."

  "Colleen's a hoot!" Ray slapped the top of his desk. "She has her little shop set up right out of the kitchen there. Brews all sorts of potions." He laughed hard and long. "She has customers too!" His sapphire-blue eyes crinkled in merriment. "She threatened to put a curse on Raif if he broke Neely's heart, but she absolutely adores him now. Maybe we should get her to work a little magic to find Lloyd." He flexed his fingers out straight as if casting a spell.

  "Yes, I agree. Neely is just what Raif needs." Baker nodded vigorously.

  "Let's go have a few beers on my brother's account to celebrate his good fortune," Ray suggested.

  "Poppy!" scolded Parker with a mock glare.

  "Poppycock!" Baker chortled.

  Ray held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll pay."

  "That's better. I'll take you up on that offer." Parker grinned.

  "Me, too," agreed Baker. "But only a couple because Olivia will have dinner waiting."

  As the three officers had a beer, a frosty drizzle began to fall.

  Coming out of the bar where the local police congregated, Brian walked to his car. He laughed out loud. "Ray! Can you believe this? I got a parking ticket." He looked around. "Why do I have a ticket? I'm not breaking any laws. I can park here. I have my law enforcement sticker on my bumper." He shrugged. "Maybe he didn't see in all the rain. I can't even make out the officer's signature. It's nice to have friends in high places. Or should I just turn the wipers on high when I get in and hope this thing gets lost somewhere?"

  A chill ran down Parker's spine. "Stop!" he shouted holding his hands out in front of him.

  When Baker lifted the windshield wiper to get the ticket, his car exploded. The hood popped up as smoke billowed from beneath the vehicle and shrapnel blew geyser-like through the roof. He flew across the street, and the impact of the explosion sent Ray and Parker through the plate glass window of the bar.

  Bar patrons took cover beneath tables and reverberating screams from the few folks coming in echoed in the faster falling rain.

  Parker recovered with a groan. He felt small cuts on his hands and neck, but his leather jacket had protected most of his body. He crawled to Brian Baker. Baker moaned. "Be quiet!" said Parker with authority. "You're dead. Trust me—You. Are. Dead." Baker seemed to understand that Parker was driving at making the killer believe he had succeeded and tried to remain still.

  Ray staggered to join the other two, his hand pressed hard against a gash in his hairline and above his eye.

  "He's dead," said Parker. "Are you okay, Daddy?"

  Ray nodded his understanding. "My, God! Another one. I want his family taken into protective custody immediately." He pushed harder on his freely bleeding cut. "I'm gonna need some stiches. You?"

  "I'll need to be checked out, but I don't think I have serious injuries."

  When the ambulance arrived, Ray commanded in the first responder's ear, "Put the sheet over his face."

  "What? Why?" asked the EMT.

  "Just do it. We want the maniac to think he succeeded."

  "Yes, Chief. I understand." The emergency medical technician complied as he covered Baker. "Why has he changed tactics?" asked the young man. "I'm tired of taking people I've known forever to the morgue instead of the hospital, and I would even hate taking y'all there."

  Parker whispered in explanation, "Because I found the expelled cartridge at the library when he killed Dantzler. He thinks I can trace the gun. He's made two mistakes now. He's starting to fall apart."

  16

  Revenge

  Ray had Brian Baker secreted in a room at Catholic Charity Hospital. Baker had severe lacerations and internal injuries, but he would live after extensive surgery. Ray, then, had Baker's family taken to an undisclosed location before he called a press conference at which he himself wore a bandage above his left eye.

  "Ladies and gentlemen of the press," Ray began, "I regret to inform you the Eau Boueuse Police Department has lost a second detective in less than two years. In addition, the FBI has lost three agents. All of these fallen angels have been personal friends of mine. We believe this to be the work of one man, and it is related to a case twenty years ago involving the insane murderess Latrice Descartes. Every officer killed had a hand in her demise. I'm the only one left. This man is seeking revenge. I challenge him to face me eyeball to eyeball."

  A reporter out of New Orleans yelled, "Chief, is that a threat to take him out yourself?"

  "No." Ray shook his head. "It's a promise to bring him to justice, even if I'm the only one left to do so. I challenge him to come into the open. But he won't. He's too much of a coward to do that. He thinks he has a grievance of some sort. This is a personal vendetta for him. But he can't face those he holds responsible. He has to hide in the shadows. He shoots from a distance. He's not a man. No, he's a lowlife slug that has to put a bomb in a real man's car, shoot a mother in the head in front of her child. Kill real men, men who face criminals like him every single day. No, I won't kill him, but I'll gladly watch while the executioner sticks a syringe in an I.V."

  Another reporter called out, "How do you plan to track him? Aren't you afraid he will accept your challenge?"

  Ray gave the crowd a lopsided grin. "He won't. But my detectives and new FBI agents will find him. There are only so many rat holes he can hide in, only so many sewers for him to scurry through to protect his stench on society.

  "You"—Ray pointed at the woman who had followed him after Robert LaFontaine's murder—"You once wanted a scoop. I'm mad as hell. Come with me, and I'll give it to you."

  Ray left the podium, and the other reporters began to murmur. The woman followed Ray. He turned around and commanded, "No cameraman. Just you."

  The woman nodded to her cameraman and followed Ray into his office where Parker waited for them. "What is this?" asked the woman.

  Ray said, "I want you to report every word I say; and when this is over, I'll give you the real exclusive."

  "So? You want me to leak a false story."

  He sucked in a long breath. "Yes, half-truths, if you will—never lies, just what we want this man to hear. Do you want to help catch a cold-blooded killer and, in the end, possibly win a Pulitzer? That is, if you write well enough."

  The woman thought a second. "Yes, Chief. I'll do it."

  "Miss Cockerill, isn't it?" He indicated for her to sit in the chair beside Parker.

  She sat down. "Yes. Gigi Cockerill."

  Ray took his own seat. "Miss Cockerill, the lunatic killed my sister-in-law. Chris Gautier was much more than a detective to me. Then, he took out three FBI agents I considered friends. Now, the attack on Brian Baker, another good friend. We do believe this case is linked to Latrice Descartes. You can research that one if you want more information." He passed her a file. "We also consider the murderer to be her son, Lloyd—last name unknown, location unknown, but we will find him.

  "I also think this man is behind the thefts that led to the death of FBI Agent Patrick Swift who was such a good friend to my brother during the Descartes case that Raif named his son after him."

  Gigi interjected, "I thought there was some racist thing going on there."

  Ray shrugged. "That, I don't know. If you find that connection, report it. In addition, I suppose he's also the mastermind behind the brutal rape-murders in New Orleans that Agent Steve Journey was investigating when he was killed."

  Again Gigi interrupted. "Is it true skin-heads were involved in that? Is there a connection other than Latrice Descartes?"

  "You dig and find out. Let us know what you discover." Ray grinned at the woman's tenacity.

  "Agent Lawrence Dantzler came here to work with us t
o prove these things and find this man. This son-of-a-bitch is patient and intelligent and manipulative."

  "I'd say," Gigi said, her tone full of sarcasm. "I mean it's been almost two years, Chief, since the first killing."

  Ray nodded. "He created scenarios to lure particular FBI personnel here to Louisiana. His revenge would not be the same anywhere but in the state where his mother was killed. From this point forward, Detective Parker Reynolds will be heading this case." He flipped an open palm toward Parker.

  Parker nodded acceptance of the introduction. "Miss Cockerill."

  "Detective." The woman smiled at the younger Reynolds. "Chief, is Detective Baker dead? I'll have to say he was less than forthcoming when I arrived at the scene when Detective Gautier was killed."

  Ray stared intently at the woman.

  Gigi pursed her lips and nodded. "I understand, Chief. A tragic loss. My sympathies go out to his family. What are you going to do to protect yourself now? You're bound to be his next target."

  "I hope I am. I hope he doesn't go after any civilians who were involved in the Descartes case. As you might know, Latrice used my brother's medical condition to get him to take my wife captive. My wife is the one who actually shot and killed the lunatic. The only other person involved in the case that had a personal connection to me was Robert LaFontaine. He, of course, is dead. As for myself, I suppose I'll have to go into protective custody." He gave a one-shoulder shrug. "What choice do I have? I have no desire to be a martyr, Miss Cockerill."

  "I understand, Chief. So, for any updates, I should contact Detective Reynolds, correct?" She smiled at Parker again.

  "Yes."

  "Detective Reynolds is your son. Aren't you afraid for him?"

  "The man is seeking revenge on those who took down his mother. No, Parker can handle this. I am, as I already stated, afraid for my brother and my wife."

  "Will they be going into protective custody?"

  "Absolutely. That's what you need to report right now. Say that I fear for my family and am making arrangements for their safety."

  "If I do need to speak to you, how will I do so?"

  "You won't. You'll talk to Parker, but never use his name directly. Call him a reliable source. That's it, Miss Cockerill. But I keep my word. When this is over, I'll sit down with you for a one-on-one exclusive. You can even bring your cameraman. I'll see that you get a story worthy of a Pulitzer. You still have to write it."

  "Thank you, Chief. I really hope I can be of help."

  "Report whatever Parker tells you, even if you know it's cock-and-bull."

  She hooded her eyes. "I'm a reporter. I don't write for tabloids. I don't lie."

  Parker laughed. "And I won't give you lies to report."

  "But you might leave a detail or two out?" She licked her lips.

  Parker gave her a half-shrug, mimicking his father.

  "Your Pulitzer awaits you." Ray stood.

  Gigi Cockerill looked Parker over. She had never heard anything negative about the man because she had no idea Ray had had Parker's juvenile records completely erased by total exoneration, not just a sealed file. Besides, the man was eye candy. Gigi thought this arrangement she had made might have definite perks. She extended her hand to Parker and smiled seductively. "Parker, I look forward to working with you."

  "Likewise," responded Parker, oblivious to the underlying insinuation of Gigi's comment.

  17

  Protective Custody

  Surroundedby four heavily armed patrolmen, Ray went home. He took Larkin in his arms.

  "Ray, you're scaring me," she confessed.

  "I'm sorry. Listen to me and don't argue. You and the kids are going to Mom and Dad's. I need you to do as I ask. If I know you're safe, I can do my work better. There will be a police detail placed on watch at Mom and Dad's place, too."

  "Ray, it's the middle of the school year," she huffed, with a shake of her head and rolling her eyes.

  "So? You can take an emergency sabbatical, and you can get the kids' assignments and teach them yourself."

  Continuing to protest she said, "It's Christopher's senior year."

  "I can't help that, Larkin. I want to make sure he's around to graduate."

  "What about you?"

  "As you can see"—He waved his hand—"I have an entourage. It's the best I can do. Honestly, I want this bastard to come after me. Parker and I have this under control."

  "Ray, every cop involved in Latrice's case is dead except you. This Lloyd person has been very successful in his quest for revenge."

  Ray kissed Larkin on the forehead. "Trust me, Angel. Now, I have to interrupt Raif's honeymoon. He needs to stay in Hawaii."

  "He's going to want to see Trista off."

  "Too bad. I have patrol officers packing Trista and Townes off as we speak. He'll just have to visit her in Virginia."

  "What about Patrick?"

  "Being watched around the clock, and I've told Dupree to tighten security even if he is on tour right now and not in one place for more than a day."

  Neely sighed as they lounged on the pristine Hawaiian beach. "If the women walking by don't stop staring at you, I'm gonna get jealous."

  Raif laughed and held his wife's hand. "Baby, I'm almost fifty-two years old. Nobody's looking at me."

  Neely rolled onto her side and propped on her elbow. "Raiford Gautier, when are you gonna realize that you're absolutely gorgeous? Nobody on this beach would put you at a day over forty, and they are most definitely staring at you."

  "Well, I think I should worry about the men ogling the most beautiful woman alive."

  "Then, I have the solution to our dilemma."

  "What's that?"

  "I'll race you back to our room." Neely snatched her towel and took off to their room.

  "Hey!" Raif called after her. "Did you forget I'm a runner?"

  As Neely and Raif fell onto the bed, Raif's phone rang.

  "Ignore it," breathed Neely.

  "I can't. Nobody would be calling unless it was urgent."

  Raif answered, "Ray, you're interrupting my honeymoon."

  "Sorry. This is crucial. Don't come home."

  "What?" Raif sat up with a look of concern on his face.

  "Our newest whacko has changed tactics. He blew up Brian Baker's car."

  "Oh, my God!"

  "I'm sending Larkin and the kids to Biloxi. I think you should stay a bit longer in Hawaii, or, at least, not home."

  "Trista will be leaving next week, Ray."

  "No, she'll be leaving tonight. I'm seeing to it. You can visit her in Virginia. Raif, this is serious. Trista will be safe on a military base with Townes. I'm having Patrick watched. I left him a voicemail if he bothers to check it. His roommate is gorgeous."

  "What? It's a girl?"

  "Oh, yeah." Ray laughed. "He's sneaky. Maybe she's just a roommate, but she would be a huge temptation to a straight red-blooded American boy. Don't tell him I told you about the roommate. Nonetheless, I have a watch on him."

  "Who?"

  "I got in touch with that agent—Pickering. He's got it covered."

  "Okay."

  "Parker is even making Sheena take Ashton to Biloxi just as a precaution. Walter has taken Audrey to Cancun just in case, and Dupree is beefing up his tour security. It's better to be safe than sorry."

  "All right, Ray. I think I can persuade my wife to extend our honeymoon." He caressed Neely's arm. "Let me know if anything happens."

  "You, too."

  "Ray, if anything happens to, or even gets close to Neely, you'll meet someone you never knew existed. I swear it."

  "For some reason, I believe you, Raif. I also wanna tell you that I think this guy is behind the art thefts around the country and the attacks in New Orleans so he could draw out Patrick Swift and Steve Journey. There's nothing to back up my suspicions, just my personal intuition, though I did tell Pickering my concerns. That ball is in his court. I'm just taking care of my own."

  "My God, Ray! You th
ink this nut is already responsible for what happened to Neely." He pulled her close as if his arms could protect her. "Ray, she was supposed to die. If this jerk is Latrice's son, I suppose she survived the Descartes curse, just like I did. Ray, as much as I loved Chris, it seems Neely and I were destined to be together." Is that possible?

  "Yes, my love, it is," Chris's voice echoed in Raif's head.

  Ray's words cut through his raging thoughts. "Be careful. I'll be in touch." Raif disconnected the call.

  Neely rubbed her husband's arm. "Raif, what did he say?"

  He pulled her closer to him. "You heard most of it. The nut blew up Baker's car. Ray wants us to stay out of Eau Boueuse. Are you amenable to extending our honeymoon?"

  "Yes, but I wish it was just because we wanted to."

  "Me, too, baby, but if Ray is right about the prick, I'll do whatever it takes in order to keep you safe. I love you, Neely. I won't ever let anybody hurt you again."

  Neither Larkin nor Raif was as ornery as Sheena Reynolds. She argued with Parker about leaving town until he threatened to have her put in cuffs and forced into a squad car.

  "You wouldn't dare!" she said, snapping her hands to her hips and glaring.

  "I learned from the best. Do you really wanna put me to the test?"

  "Parker, why would we be in danger?"

  "This nut job could just be trying to hurt my father. Besides, I want you to keep Larkin in line. She's stubborn enough to sneak back here because she thinks she can help like she did with Mom. Please, baby, stop arguing. I don't want anything to happen to you or Ashton."

  "All right, Parker." She dropped her hands to her sides. "I'll go to your grandparents'. I'll stay with Larkin every minute."

  Parker scowled. "That could be a powder keg waiting to ignite. Don't be stupid."

  Thus, the entire Reynolds family left for Mississippi while the Gautier family dispersed to various parts of the country. Raif spent extra time in the arms of the woman he loved, and Ray spent more than enough time in the presence of heavily armed policemen while Parker spent far too much time alone with one reporter.