I turned toward her and watched her happy facial features morph into an expression I’d seen on my cousin’s face more times than I could count. I didn’t think—just dove toward her—taking us both down.
A mess of arms and legs tangled together as we tumbled down the concrete stairs—bullets ricocheting over our heads.
Landing hard on the sidewalk, unknown hands pulled us around the base of the stairs and out of the line of fire. The shooting stopped as police officers emerged from every direction, flooding the block. Maggie and I remained on our backs amidst some shrubbery, both panting.
We looked at each other at the same time, but she was the first to speak. “Lucy… you’ve got some splainin to do…” She bombed on the accent from the iconic tv show, but it was close enough for me to catch the reference.
“It’s not my fault,” I said as a laugh escaped. “I seriously have no idea why someone’s trying to kill me.”
“We best get to work at figuring that out then.” She rolled to the side and pushed herself up. “I like a good mystery.” She reached out a hand to help me up.
When I stood, my knee nearly buckled.
She caught my arm to help me stay upright. “Can you walk?”
“I can limp. That’ll have to be good enough.” I swatted off the worst of the dirt. “Shit! Where’s Beast?”
“He’s over here,” Quille called out.
I hobbled around the corner to find Beast next to Quille who was helping an officer out of the bushes.
“That damn dog saved my life,” the cop said, staring at me. “He tackled me into the bushes right as the bullets started flying.”
“Good boy, Beast,” I called out.
Beast barked three times and hopped around in excitement.
“Did anyone get a location on the shooter,” Maggie asked.
“That open third floor window,” Quille said pointing to a commercial building down the block. “Someone saw a rifle barrel. They’re searching it now.”
“Beast, stay with Quille,” I ordered the dog, pointing at Quille.
Beast barked once, then sat.
“I want your dog,” Maggie said as she jogged next to me down the block.
“Not my dog,” I said as I tried to block out the pain in my knee. “Borrowed him for the day from a friend.”
As we approached the building entrance, I tipped my head in greeting at the two-man team already stationed at the door. Maggie ran past them, flashing her badge.
I pulled my gun. “I need a radio,” I said to one of the officers.
The closest cop unhooked his radio and handed it over. I walked through the door that Maggie held open. “This is Detective Harrison,” I said into the radio. “Report status on building search.”
“We’ve got nothing, Kid,” Ford answered over the radio. “Shooter’s nest is empty. He’s gone.”
“Search the place from rooftop to basement. I’ll work the perimeter.”
“Understood.”
“What are you thinking?” Maggie asked.
“He would’ve left through a side or back door. Let’s check out his options.”
We returned outside and walked down the north side of the building. There were no exits on this side unless he exited through one of the closed windows, which was unlikely because of the busy street running parallel. On the west side, a main exit led into a parking lot.
I called out to a group of cops who were both guarding the rear exit and looking around for any suspicious activity. “Start searching those cars.”
I walked around the building, peering down the narrow alley on the south side of the building. A service exit was partially open a few feet away, like someone hadn’t shut it completely. I walked over and peered inside. The hallway was vacant.
“Detective Harrison,” an officer called out. “Where do you want us?”
Two officers I recognized but couldn’t place their names stood waiting for assignment. “Guard this exit until the building has been cleared. Radio Detective Ford and let him know we’ll need this door dusted for prints.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Ugh. Sometimes I hate the South,” Maggie grumbled. “Ma’am this, and ma’am that.”
“Could be worse.” I backstepped so I could peer down the alley. It was more of a walkway than anything, connecting the street and the rear parking lot. I looked back and forth, until out of nowhere, some instinct told me to look up. “Son of a bitch.”
I started for the fire escape, but Maggie pulled me back and grabbed the ladder, starting up first.
“What the hell, Maggie?” I complained as I watched her climb.
“We both know your knee is trashed! Head to the end of the block!”
She was right. I yelled for the officers in the parking lot, sending half up the ladder with Maggie and the other half with me down the block. Five buildings down, there was another alley, with another fire escape. A door to a restaurant kitchen was propped open and I pulled my badge, holding it up as I called out to the staff filled kitchen. “Police. Anyone see or hear anything in the alley?”
“Like a guy coming down the fire escape in a hurry?” one of the women answered robotically, not looking up from stirring something in a large pot.
“Yeah, like that. What’d he look like?”
“Big. White. Dark hair.”
“How long ago?”
“Two, maybe three minutes ago.”
“Which direction?”
“Toward the street,” she said pointing toward the southeast.
The officers who were with me took off running toward the street. I didn’t follow. I knew my knee wouldn’t take it. I radioed in that suspect was spotted leaving the vicinity and his last known location. If we were lucky, we’d find a picture of him on one of the street cameras, but even that felt like a long shot.
I walked out to the alley, and leaned against the other building, taking some of the pressure off my knee.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Maggie called out from the rooftop above.
I shrugged. “I need a beer!” I yelled back at her.
She looked at her phone, before yelling down to me again, “It’s only ten in the morning. I haven’t even had breakfast yet!”
“Oh man, you missed out! Aunt Suzanne cooked this morning!”
Her reply was a single finger. The naughty one.
Chapter Nineteen
CHARLIE
Monday, High Noon
Two hours later, the employees of the detective’s squad followed me into the patrol room, and Ford helped me climb on top of a desk. Protocol dictated that formal memos and announcements were made as necessary to the other officers. My way was faster.
I whistled, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Listen up, this will be brief. Most of you know me, but for those who don’t, I’m Detective Harrison.”
“Go, Kid!” one of the officers yelled.
“Give us a lead, Kid!” another officer yelled.
“This morning was the third time in two days that some asshole tried to take me out. Detective Ford pulled nearby security footage, and, bless his heart, managed to get a photo of a guy fleeing the area in a silver Hyundai. Description and partial plate information will be sent shortly to your phones.” I patted Ford on the top of his head before taking the picture from him and holding it up. “This photo is for only the eyes of the girls and boys in blue. Do not share with the media.” I continued to hold it up as I spoke. “One more thing… He’s a professional. He might’ve failed three attempts, but his first two attacks led to street fights and in both cases, the only reason I’m here today is because I got lucky.”
The room went quiet except for one rookie whose laughter caused everyone to turn to him. He read the serious expressions and snapped his jaw closed.
“Give us the run down,” Ford said.
“This guy is patient. Organized. He’s strong. He’s well trained in fighting, both offense and defense. And each time he’s come at me, I never knew he was
out there. If I had to guess, I’d say he has a military background. I’d also wager he’s working for someone. This is the third vehicle he’s had in two days. Someone’s bankrolling his operation.”
“You going to a safe house?” one of the officers asked.
“Yes,” Quille answered.
“No,” I said, smirking back at Quille. I turned back to the room. “If you see this car, call it in. Do not try any heroic crap. We’ve already had too many close calls.”
“Protect and serve!” Leland bellowed.
“Protect and serve!” the men and women in blue responded.
I reached over and both Ford and Quille helped lower me to the floor.
“Your friend Maggie has taken over my unit,” Quille said as we walked out.
I pointed toward the elevator. My knee was better, but not ready to climb a flight of stairs. “That’s a good thing. Maggie likes to keep busy. She’ll have the homicide unit caught up on cases, organized and polished, before she gets bored and leaves.”
“She’s making me look bad.”
“She won’t take credit for any of the work, and by the time she leaves you’ll have the most effective unit in Miami. You might even make it home for dinner a few nights this week.”
That made him smile.
My phone rang. I pulled it from my purse and saw it was Chills. “Yeah.”
“My boys tried to make a delivery, but there was too much action for their comfort in your district.”
“What kind of delivery?”
“The kind with three beating hearts. They dropped the packages off at the chapel on 10th. Better get there quick before someone unties them.” Chills hung up.
“Ford!” I yelled toward the stairs where he was walking with some of the other guys back to the second floor. “Your shooter was just delivered to the church on 10th. You’ll need three cars.”
Ford ran down the stairs, stopped to kiss my cheek, then ran from the building with several officers following.
Sensing someone watching me, I looked over to see Marcie, the department shrink, watching me as she helped the grieving mother stay standing. The mother covered her face as she wept.
“Where’s Beast?” I asked Quille.
“Well,” Quille said, scratching the back of his head and trying to hide his smile. “Funny you should ask.”
I followed him over to a sidelight window that ran alongside the front doors. Outside, Beast stood on the top of the landing doing his bark, happy dance, bark again routine as the reporters took his picture. I looked over at Quille and rolled my eyes. Without stepping outside, I ducked my head and opened the door, whistling for Beast. He ran inside and followed me to the back of the building and out the rear exit.
We walked down two buildings, cut through an alley, then another half dozen yards to my car. I let Beast in first, him leaping over the driver’s seat and into the passenger seat, before I slid behind the wheel.
“What were we working on before everything went crazy?” I asked Beast as I pulled into traffic.
Beast barked once.
“Right. We need to find Roseline’s killer.”
I realized I never read the second forensic report from Roseline’s apartment. Not wanting to turn around and drive back to the precinct, I called Greg instead.
“Perfect timing,” he answered. “I was just about to call it a day. I’ve been working for twenty-hours straight.”
“Want a beer? I can meet you at my place, and you can walk me through Roseline’s apartment.”
“Is the beer cold?”
“It will be,” I answered.
He laughed. “Deal. See you in ten minutes.”
I turned right into the parking lot of a corner gas station, running inside to buy beer. On the way to the checkout counter, I grabbed a jug of water.
“Is that your dog?” a woman asked from the doorway, pointing over her shoulder.
“Depends. What did he do?” I asked as I stacked the beer and water on the counter.
“You left him in the car,” the woman said with her hands on her hips.
I pulled my wallet and handed cash to the young man behind the register as I responded to the woman. “I left the dog in the car with the car running, the air conditioner cranked, and the front windows completely down. Relax, lady.”
“I’m calling the cops!”
I glanced over as she stepped back outside. I snorted as I took the offered change from the cashier. He was looking back and forth between us. “She’s really calling.”
I shrugged while gathering the beer and water. “With the air conditioner running, the dog is more comfortable than we are.”
“Aren’t you worried someone will steal it? Leaving the car running like that?”
“Would you steal a car with a rottweiler sitting in the front seat?”
He shook his head.
I walked out as a police cruiser pulled into the lot. The officers slid out of their car, and while ignoring the woman, they walked over to pet Beast.
I tilted my head toward the woman already raising holy hell from the sidewalk. “You going take care of the batshit crazy lady for me?”
They both sighed as they glanced over at the woman. “We got it. Get out of here.”
I didn’t wait around for them to change their minds.
Chapter Twenty
KELSEY
Monday, 12:15 p.m.
When my phone rang, I looked at the caller ID and smiled as I answered, “Hey, Aunt Suzanne.”
“Do not tell Charlie I called,” she said hurriedly into the phone.
I raised an eyebrow. “Okay.”
“She’s in trouble.”
“Did she get arrested again?”
“Not that kind of trouble, but the day is young.”
Laughing, I said, “What’s going on?”
Aunt Suzanne remained quiet, likely thinking out her response.
“Just tell me. I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“Someone tried to kill her.” Even after several decades living as a cop’s wife, Aunt Suzanne tended to overreact.
“Charlie’s a cop,” I said as I sighed. “Someone tries to shoot or stab her on the regular. It’s part of the job.”
“Three times. The same guy has attacked her three times in less than forty-eight hours. She has two black eyes, a split chin, and she’s limping. Your uncle is worried. Her boss is worried. That guy Spence is worried.”
“Who’s Spence?”
“He’s a private investigator. He’s cute. He—” she made a noise which sounded like a growl “—Spence isn’t important. Everyone’s worried about Charlie. There’s a manhunt to find this guy before he makes another attempt to kill her.”
She was right. This wasn’t good. Charlie pissing people off was normal. Someone wanting to kill Charlie was normal. Someone making three attempts and living, that was a whole new ballgame. “Let me guess, Charlie’s doing her I-can-take-care-of-myself routine.” I looked over and watched Katie, Anne, and Alex move into the dining room and sit. They were listening to my side of the conversation.
Aunt Suzanne released a long breath. “She needs you, Kelsey. She’ll hate your meddling, but I’d rather listen to her rant about you being bossy—than have her turn up dead.”
“I need to make arrangements for Nicholas. I’ll try to get to Florida by tonight.”
“Kelsey,” Aunt Suzanne said, her voice laced with concern. “I know you’re worried about bringing Nicholas back to Miami. But we’ll keep him safe. Just come home.”
After Aunt Suzanne had disconnected, I stared at my phone screen for several minutes. Home. Miami. The city I lived in before everything changed. The city that stole my son and ripped us apart for years. Could I keep him safe? Maybe. But I wasn’t alone anymore, either. I’d take an army.
“What do you need?” Alex asked.
I looked at Alex. He looked back with a concerned, but determined expression.
“I need a rental house
in Miami. Something with a pool for Nicholas. And big. It needs to have a shitload of bedrooms. I’m taking every available security guard with us.”
“On it.” Alex walked over and grabbed one of the house laptops.
I turned to Katie. “Go talk to Donovan. Sort out who he can spare on short notice.”
She didn’t say anything, but hurried to the front door.
Anne started for the stairs, speaking over her shoulder. “I’ll start packing. We’ll go with you.”
“Anne—” I said, stopping her. “I don’t know what kind of danger Charlie is up against.”
“We’ll take an army if we need to,” Anne said, unwavering. “But we all go. Together, we’ll keep the kids safe.” She ran up the stairs, ending the discussion.
I walked outside through the back sliding door, down the side stairs, and over to where Tyler and Bones were watching the kids play with Jager. “Tyler?”
“Yeah?” he answered, not looking away from the kids.
“We need to make a trip to Florida. Charlie’s in trouble. Can you come too?”
“Where they go,” he pointed at the kids, “I go. When do we leave?”
“Soon. Travel arrangements are being made.”
I could feel Bones staring at me, but my eyes were locked on Nicholas. Taking him to Florida scared the shit out of me.
“I’ll call Bridget,” Bones whispered. “We’ll be ready to leave when you are.”
~*~*~
Within an hour, we were driving to the airport. Tyler drove my SUV. I rode shotgun. The kids bounced in the back seat, chattering with Alex who sat between them. The rest of the family and security were in similar SUVs in front of us or behind us. Only Lisa had stayed home, but she and Abigail were moved into one of the apartments at Aces. They’d be safe there. Donovan would make sure of it.
I called Aunt Suzanne, but before I could say anything, she said, “Please tell me you’re coming to Florida.”
“We’re on our way. All of us.”
“All?”
“I’m bringing an army.”
“Oh,” she said, pausing. “I better run to the grocery store.”
“First, pack a bag. I’ll send someone for you and Uncle Hank when we land. Both of you will stay with us until this gets sorted.”
Hunt and Prey (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 8) Page 12
