Hunt and Prey (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 8)

by Kaylie Hunter

  “You awake?” Kelsey asked.

  “Sort of,” I said on a yawn. “Give me ten and I’ll call you back.”

  I hung up and opened the car door. As soon as I stood, Beast leapt from the car, knocking me into the door panel. He ran over and lifted his leg on a bush before running around in circles in the parking lot.

  “Well, he’s wide awake.”

  “He’s always full of energy in the mornings,” Spence said, shutting the driver’s door before walking over and dragging me toward my apartment building’s entrance.

  “Why did we sleep in the car?” I asked as I pulled my arm from his grip.

  “I was afraid if I woke you, you’d start working again. I stayed awake and kept watch.” He held the door open for Beast and me, and then followed us up the stairs. “Which is why I’m going to take a nap while you cook breakfast.”

  “I don’t have to cook.” I smiled as I unlocked the door and threw it open. Aunt Suzanne was in the kitchen. Heavenly scents of bacon and butter fried goodness wafted toward us.

  “Food. Then bed,” Spence said.

  “You mean your floor mat? You’re not sleeping in my bed.”

  “Wanna bet?” he said as he shut the door.

  I sat at the table and was rewarded with a plate full of artery clogging deliciousness. Aunt Suzanne raised my jaw to inspect my chin, but only rolled her eyes before returning to the kitchen. She served Spence a plate, then delivered coffee and orange juice.

  I took a picture of my plate with my phone, sending the image to Kelsey before forking some fried potatoes into my mouth. Thirty seconds later, I hit the answer button and held the phone up to my ear.

  Kelsey started talking without greeting. “Tell Aunt Suzanne that I miss her and her cooking, but I need to talk to you about a case.”

  “Mickey called you,” I mumbled through a mouthful of food.

  “He did, but he wasn’t tattling. That recording you played for him, about the dentist and prostitutes, that’s a case I’ve been working. He only knows about it because I needed a special favor that I can’t talk about over the phone.”

  “Okay. And?”

  “I had planned on coming to Florida to finish the case, but I’m at a loss right now for someone to stay with Nicholas.”

  “You should stay in Michigan,” I said, setting down my fork and leaning back in my chair. “Now’s not a good time for a visit.”

  “Why?” I could hear her concentrating on my voice. She knew me well enough to read the change in my voice.

  “I won’t lie to you, but I’m not ready to share all the details either—especially over the phone.”

  “On a scale of one to ten…”

  She didn’t have to finish the sentence. It was a game we’d played during our rookie year in the police department. On a scale of one to ten, how worried were we that we might not survive.

  “Seven,” I answered, honestly.

  “And how much of the problem ties back to the dentist office?”

  “I’ve barely looked into it. I’ve had more pressing issues.”

  “You focus on your stuff; let me handle the dentist office. In the meantime, you need someone capable of watching your back. I can send someone from Aces.”

  “No need. I have a partner.” I reached over and petted Beast’s head.

  Spence chuckled before carrying his empty plate into the kitchen. While his back was turned, I snuck Beast a chunk of bacon.

  “I saw that,” Spence said with his back still facing me.

  I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “Since when do you have a partner?” Kelsey asked. “Didn’t the last one hand his badge over after working one day with you?”

  “That wasn’t my fault. He completely overreacted to the situation.”

  “Right.” I could almost hear her eyes rolling. “Look, I need to go,” Kelsey said, sounding distracted. “But promise me you’ll stay safe and far away from the dentist case.”

  “I can’t make either promise, and you know that. But I can give you a few days. I’ve got someone in a safe house, though, and that can’t remain permanent.”

  “Now I’m intrigued, but I’ll heed your warning about not saying much over the phone. We’ll talk soon.” She disconnected abruptly, knowing that the customary salutations were not necessary between us.

  Aunt Suzanne walked over and refilled my coffee cup. “Was it smart not to tell her you got your ass kicked twice in less than twenty-four hours?”

  “She’s got a lot on her plate. Kelsey doesn’t have anyone she trusts to watch Nicholas if she were to fly down here. Her relationship with Grady crashed and burned. Wild Card’s out on a job. The only thing she can contribute right now is worry. And worrying helps no one.”

  “I could watch Nicholas. I’d love to, in fact. We could go to the beach like we used to.”

  “It would take an army of men guarding him to convince Kelsey it’s safe enough to bring him back to Florida. She’ll never forget walking into that apartment and finding him gone.”

  “She doesn’t have to forget.” Aunt Suzanne rested a gentle hand on my shoulder. “She just has to get over her fear.”

  “That’s a big ask, Aunt Suzanne. It took her over three years to bring him home.” I knew Spence was listening from the kitchen, but he stayed quiet as he washed the dishes. “I have work to do. Mind if I skip helping with the cleanup?”

  “You know I don’t mind. Scat.” She walked into the kitchen. “You too,” she said to Spence.

  “Thank you for breakfast,” Spence told her as he turned out of the kitchen and down the hall.

  I followed him. In my bedroom, he threw himself on top of the bed, fully clothed. I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. I pulled some clothes from the dresser and took them to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, I could hear him snoring when I opened the bathroom door. Walking down the hall, I confirmed the kitchen was empty before I grabbed my bag, phone, and keys, and led Beast out of the apartment.

  ~*~*~

  The precinct was my first stop. I wasn’t going to leave Beast in a hot car so I took him inside with me. The desk officer raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as he pressed the button to release the door to the inner offices.

  On the second floor, Beast veered off and around a desk. He walked over to a bawling woman sitting in a guest chair and laid his head in her lap. She started absently petting him and he leaned his solid mass against her. Ford, a detective who’d been on the force long before I arrived, left the woman with Beast and walked toward me.

  “What’s that all about?” I asked him.

  “Her son was shot in a drive by last night. Only four goddamn years old.” Ford looked up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the job on his shoulders.

  “Let Beast keep her company for a bit. Go give yourself a minute to reset.”

  He bowed his head and walked off, slipping into the men’s room.

  I looked back at Beast. He had one of his paws across the woman’s lap, and his head nuzzled against her shoulder. Her arms were wrapped around him as she unleashed a world full of grief into his fur.

  “Got a minute?” Quille asked in a quiet tone from behind me.

  I followed him into his office. “Any idea who the shooter was?” I asked, tipping my head toward the main room as I crossed over to the credenza to sit.

  “Dark colored four-door car. That’s it. That’s all the information the officers at the scene were able to get people to admit.”

  “Where was the shooting?”

  “Out in Crack Village, near the housing projects. Midnight last night.”

  I pulled my phone and called Chills, a gang leader with a God-fearing grandmother.

  “I was expecting your call. Give me a minute.” I could hear voices in the background, then a door close. “I’m working on finding the shooter. I’ve got boys living two doors down. Best I can figure, the shooters were gunning for my crew and hit the wrong house. I’ll call you when I
know more.”

  “Not so quick. Is this a turf war?”

  “Naw. Just some young bloods trying to prove themselves. I’ll take care of it.”

  “No, you won’t. You’ll get me a name and address.”

  “Can’t do that. Bad for business.”

  “Don’t screw with me, Chills. We’re talking about a guy who killed a kid. That’s front-page news.”

  “All right, all right. I’ll see what I can arrange so the boys in blue look good.”

  “If you go rogue—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save your threats for someone who doesn’t know how fucking crazy you are. Damn, I miss Kelsey. At least she’s somewhat sane.” He disconnected the call.

  “Anything?” Quille asked, nodding to my phone as I dropped it into my bag.

  “Shooters hit the wrong house. My contact is looking into it. He’ll ring back when he has something.”

  “I hope it’s soon. The news stations are already running the story.”

  Cases like these were a powder keg. Either the community quietly mourned or outrage at the police overtook the city from every podium. In the chaos that always followed, there were never any good guys. Not on either side. How could there be. A little boy had lost his life.

  “I got a confirmation from WITSEC that Roseline was one of theirs, but they aren’t saying why. They’re sending someone to talk to us.”

  “Great. Just what I need. Some uppity Fed telling me how to do my job.”

  “Ouch,” Maggie said from the doorway. “That hurt my feelings.”

  I was about to exclaim my excitement at seeing Maggie when I remembered the grieving mother. I looked over, but both the woman and Beast were no longer at the desk.

  Maggie followed my gaze. “You looking for the crying woman with the dog?”

  “Yeah. Did you see where they went?”

  “A detective moved them into the conference room at the end of the hall. What happened?”

  “Drive by.”

  Maggie sighed. “It never ends.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” I waved a hand at the chairs. “Were you sent here to share intel? Or to tell us to back off?”

  Maggie turned one of the guest chairs, angling it toward me, then sat before propping her feet up on the other chair. “I’m to tell you to back off. But I’d rather fast forward to the part where you refuse to drop the case and I’m forced to divulge details.”

  “I like her,” Quille said.

  “Yeah. Maggie’s got style.” I looked at Quille. “Sergeant Quille, meet FBI agent, Maggie O’Donnell. Truly, the best the FBI has ever had on their team.”

  “Ooh. Nice intro,” Maggie said, leaning over to shake Quille’s hand. “Call me Maggie. I like to keep a low profile.”

  “You can call me Quille or Patrick, but most people around here call me Quille.”

  “Like the pen. Got it. Now, as for Roseline Pageotte,” she said, eyeing me sideways as she shook her head, “you really slammed into a mess this time. Heads are rolling in the DOJ.”

  “What the hell does the DOJ have to do with my homicide?”

  “Roseline was the primary witness in an upcoming trial for a hillbilly heroin ring.”

  “What? How does a quiet woman like Roseline end up anywhere near Oxi dealers?”

  Maggie’s eyes lit with challenge as she watched me. “There was one detail in her background that wasn’t fake. Can you guess which one?”

  I looked down as my mind shifted through her background search and her employee file. “Shit. She worked at a truck stop.”

  “Ding-ding-ding,” Maggie said as she rang an invisible bell. “I’m impressed.” Maggie saw something out of the corner of her eye in the main room and her facial features morphed back to her all-business expression.

  “The grieving mother?” I asked, not looking toward the window to see for myself.

  When she looked back at me, it was her sad eyes that answered yes. “The Feds aren’t releasing the details of their case yet, but I can share that Roseline documented trucks coming and going for over six months involving this drug ring. She was a sharp woman. Then one night something went wrong. One of the drivers shot a guy in the parking lot. Roseline hid until the cops got there. She’s lucky to be alive. She asked the local police to call the Feds, then she turned everything over to us. She had collected video tape evidence along with detailed notes on over two dozen bad guys. These guys were never even on our radar.”

  Quille whistled.

  I lowered my head, staring at the floor.

  “She was your neighbor?” Maggie asked, though we both knew she already knew the answer. Maggie would’ve studied the details of the case before walking into the building.

  I nodded anyway.

  “Were you two close?”

  I shook my head. I continued staring at the floor as I answered. “She kept her distance. She told people she was an illegal to explain why she was so reserved. I never guessed.”

  “But you respected her.”

  “Twelve apartments in our building, but Roseline was the only one who was willing to lend a helping hand to Pauly, a local homeless man.”

  “No,” Quille said. “She wasn’t the only one. You helped him, too. Don’t forget that.”

  “I didn’t do enough for either of them. They were murdered right under my nose. In my own damn building.” I stood and walked over to face the glass, watching the uniforms move about in a hushed frenzy. “Where does the case stand?” I asked Maggie without turning around.

  “The US Attorney’s office will exhaust all efforts to keep the case alive, but unless we can prove the drug ring were behind killing her, the bad guys will likely walk.”

  “Did Greg find any DNA last night?” Quille asked.

  “I don’t know, but that case is about that contract I told you about,” I said, looking over my shoulder to give Quille a pointed look. “Did the team go back to Roseline’s with a black light?”

  “Yeah,” Quille said, digging out a file from under a ten-inch stack. “Haven’t had a chance to read it yet.” Something on the other side of the glass caught Quille’s attention. “Gibson! Get your ass in here!”

  “Yes, sir,” Gibson said, hurrying to the doorway.

  “What have you got on the double homicide?”

  “Nothing new yet, sir. I just got in the office.”

  “I warned you,” I mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

  “You’re off the case. Turn everything you have over to me and report to Riley. You’re on desk duty doing research for him until I say otherwise.”

  “But sir, I—”

  “Get out before I fire your ass!” Quille ordered.

  “You better run, boy,” Maggie said, flashing her pearly whites. “Poppa bear is pissed.”

  Gibson flushed but hurried away as if his life depended on it.

  Quille opened the drawer of his desk and held up a badge. “I’m not going to ask you again.” He tossed the badge at me. “Stop by the counselor’s office and get your ass cleared for duty.”

  “Damn it,” I grumbled, dropping the badge in my bag. “This isn’t a good idea, and you know it.”

  “I need someone here who can help me control these idiots. And you’re it.”

  “Fine.” I stomped into the workroom. Walking over to the assignment board, I re-assigned a few names. When I turned around, everyone had stopped working and was looking at the board. “Chop. Chop. I want updates on every case we have going.”

  Each group brought over their files and filled me in. Most were on the right path, and I gave them the nod to continue. One had hit a dead end and I motioned to Maggie, handing her the file. “She’s a profiler,” I told the young detective to answer his unasked question. He followed Maggie over to a side table as she started reading the file.

  Another detective had too many suspects and I reassigned Gibson to help with the background checks. When everyone had cleared out, I noticed the grieving mother standing near the c
onference room door, watching me with sad eyes. Beast sat her feet, leaning into her.

  I walked across the room and faced her.

  “Tell me someone’s working just as hard to find the man who shot my son.”

  Detective Ford stood beside us, his head bending in defeat.

  “We both know that witnesses don’t talk in your neighborhood. That makes solving cases like your son’s harder, but not impossible.”

  Ford’s head flew up, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

  “There are other methods… less conventional methods... that cops sometimes use to solve these types of crimes. I’ve made a call to someone who owes me a few favors. He’s not someone I trust, not even someone I respect, but he’s in a better position to find the person responsible.”

  Her chin quivered. Beast whined and rubbed his head against her thigh. “I’m okay, boy,” she said, patting his head as she inhaled a shaky breath. “Thank you,” she said to me. “For doing what you can to find them.” She looked down at Beast. “And, for letting me borrow your dog. He’s been a champ.”

  “I’m on my way downstairs to the counselor’s office. Why don’t you come with us? It will help.”

  I didn’t wait for her to answer. I looped my arm through hers, leading her toward the elevator.

  Chapter Eighteen

  CHARLIE

  Monday, 9:43 a.m.

  Ford must’ve called downstairs and told them we were on our way. Marcie, the precinct’s shrink, met us at the door, handed me a piece of paper, and led the grieving woman into her inner sanctum. I looked at the piece of paper. It was a signed release to return to active duty. A post-it was stuck on top of it: We’ll chat later. Go get the bastards.

  I dropped the release form off at the front desk and asked the officer to have someone run it up to HR before I had time to shoot anyone. He stood there confused, not sure how to react, just holding the form.

  “She’s not kidding,” another officer laughed, taking the form. “I’ll take it over myself, Kid.”

  “Thanks, Leland.” I waved over my shoulder as Beast followed me outside.

  “Trying to ditch me?” Maggie asked as she hurried out the door after me.