Born to Die

by Winter Austin

  Losing control.

  “Sweet pea, if you wouldn’t mind, could you get my cell phone from my coat? Thank you.”

  Cassy did as asked and tossed it to him across the room. Catching the phone one-handed, Boyce opened his contact list and scrolled through to the number he wanted.

  “For once in my life, I’d like a straight answer out of you. Preferably without me resorting to the kind of violence you’re so well known for.”

  “I have no damn idea who your daddy is,” Mother snapped.

  Boyce grinned. Her backwoods roots were showing. “Oh, I know you’re clueless on that front. If the constant stream of men in your life as I was growing up was any indication, you bed-hopped for a long time before I screwed up your plans. No, this isn’t about him. Who did you turn in the Memphis FBI?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Are you deaf, boy? I have no intention of ever telling you a thing.”

  “Then we do this the challenging way.” He tapped the call button, put the phone on speaker, and waited for the call to be answered, which happened on the fourth ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Isaacs, Agent Hunt.”

  “Hunt, why are you calling? I thought you were on vacation.”

  “Yes, well, I had a party crasher tweet in my ear some very juicy details of an ongoing investigation of yours.”

  “Interesting. And who is this little birdy?”

  The red streaks in Mother’s face began turning a deep shade of purple.

  “I’ll get to that in a moment. First, are you at home or the office?”

  “Still at the office. Why?”

  “Is Ulrich there?”

  Mother began breathing faster; fury rolled off her body in waves.

  “Looks like he’s still here.”

  “Okay, Isaacs, I need you to access the Gladstone files and pull up case number 33524778.”

  A chair squeaked on the other line. “Seriously, man, where you going with this?”

  “Bear with me, we’re getting there. Have you got the file?”

  “Looking for it. You realize there’s like a ton of cases against her?”

  Boyce smirked at Mother. “I’m fully aware of how many there are. Surprisingly, none of them bore any fruit for the agents’ labors.”

  “Found it. What am I looking for specifically?”

  “The name of the lead agent on that particular case.”

  A stream of incoherent and mumbled words came through the connection. Mother’s body began to tremble. Boyce noticed her curl and uncurl her fingers. He was close, oh so damn close.

  “Wow. That’s weird,” Isaacs said. “It says here that it was Ulrich and Elaine Wilcox. I don’t remember any Wilcox working here.”

  Boyce glared at Mother. “I thought something was off about the whole setup. It’s not just one, but two. You had your fingers in both pies.”

  “Uhh, Hunt, who are you talking to?”

  “Isaacs, the reason you don’t remember a Wilcox is because she moved on to greener pastures after she was turned. She’s now AUSA Elaine Danberry.”

  “Wait, what? Would you care to explain all of this to me?”

  He inched closer to Mother, putting the phone between them. “Gladly. You and I both know I’ve had some interest in the Gladstone investigations because it’s my mother, and when you called me a week ago about that odd sighting of me, I knew something wasn’t kosher. That feeling grew when I got pulled back to Memphis before my temporary transfer was up. It didn’t really hit me until now that there is someone on the inside working for her. Isaacs, does that file explain why Ulrich and Wilcox stopped working the case?”

  “Um, the informant disappeared, presumed dead, and Wilcox … left the FBI.”

  “Anything about Ulrich?”

  “He worked the case for another year before he was moved up to SAC.”

  Boyce gave Mother a contemplative look. “And why’s that? How did he suddenly get a fast track to SAC?”

  “I’ll see you dead before you can finish this,” she ground out.

  “Whoa, is that—”

  “Yes, Isaacs, it is Ruby Jean Gladstone. My little birdy. I finally understand why none of those cases ever produced solid evidence to put you away. I was never able to uncover how all those agents through the years were thwarted by their star informants either disappearing or dying, but I had my suspicions. It was because you had the system rigged. When they brought me back to Memphis for an asinine ploy, it finally began to make sense. You had the two most valuable people in your pocket, keeping tabs on everything and alerting you when someone got too close. I was too close. The son of the very woman they were out to protect was making it difficult to keep up the charade, so it was time to get me out of the picture. You were fine with me being in the FBI as long as I wasn’t there to screw up your plans. When I was transferred to Memphis and the agency began using my knowledge of your operations, well, then, that was a problem.”

  Behind him, Cassy’s phone chirped. “Boyce, Sheriff’s ETA is one minute.”

  Boyce backed away from Mother. “Isaacs, I need you to contact the U.S. Attorney and have him file misconduct and bribery charges against AUSA Elaine Danberry and SAC Keith Ulrich. I’m sure he’ll have a few more charges to add.”

  “You’re saying those two are in bed with Ruby Jean Gladstone?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. We have the smoking gun to shut her down.”

  “I hope you’re right. I’m on it.” The phone disconnected.

  Mother flew into a rage the instant Boyce’s hand dropped. She came at him, claws bared, but before she could touch him, Cassy grabbed her arm and swung her around, tripping her in the process. Mother hit the floor with an agonizing thud. Stepping over her, Cassy straddled her body and locked her in an arm bar. His mother spewed vileness until Cassy gave a sharp tug on her arm that made her scream.

  “Put a lid on it.”

  “Sweet pea?”

  She looked at him and smiled. “Yes?”

  “Where and when did you learn all this?”

  “Nic and Nash. We all decided to learn Jiu-Jitsu.”

  “That explains so much.”

  Since Cassy was occupied with restraining his mother, it was only fair that he answer the door when the knock came. He stepped aside to allow Sheriff Hamilton and crew to enter.

  “Mind telling me what the hell is going on?” Hamilton barked.

  “Gladly. I’d like to press charges against Ruby Jean Gladstone for attempted kidnapping and attempted murder.”

  The confused look on Hamilton’s face might have been comical if reality hadn’t hit Boyce square in the gut. There were legit charges against Mother. And he’d been the one to bring her down.

  Victory tasted good.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  At the rate things were going, Cassy regretted not staying at the hospital longer just to get more sleep. From her perch at the island counter, she watched through half-open lids all the goings-on in her living room. Ruby Jean and her bodyguards were sitting on the sofa, properly restrained. The guy whose face Cassy had bashed in looked like a bruised apple, with the whole right side swollen and raw. To say she was thrilled about her ability to throw him—a guy about twice her weight and a good foot taller than her—was an understatement.

  Nash and Jennings stood guard over the three while Boyce and Liza—who’d rushed over after Boyce called her in—were on their phones with whomever it was they needed to talk with. Hamilton leaned into the wall by the dining-room table, observing it all.

  Rubbing her gritty and sore eyes, she groaned.

  “You should be sleeping.”

  She squinted at her boss. “Well, I would be if some woman kingpin hadn’t done a little B and E in my home.”

  He parked himself on a barstool opposite her. “Have you gotten any sleep since leaving the hospital?”

  “I dozed on the ride back from the Murdochs’. That’s about it.”

  “Talking with
Eli could have waited until tomorrow.”

  She lifted an eyebrow.

  “Okay, maybe not, but running yourself into the ground isn’t going to help the victims in these unexplained murders.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

  “Just promise me, whatever you learned at the Murdochs’, you’ll save it for tomorrow,” Hamilton said.

  “Planned on it.”

  Probably sensing her scrutiny, Boyce looked over and gave her a weak smile.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Get what?” Cassy asked as Hamilton shook his head.

  “Your sister has probably ripped you a new one time and again about Hunt, yet here he is, still. What do you see in the guy?”

  “I don’t know. Wait, no, scratch that, I do know. He’s the opposite of everything I believe and understand. He fascinates me. I want to pick him apart, see what makes him tick, then put him back together. Boyce isn’t like the men who were around when I was growing up, and he’s not even remotely close to being like the men here in McIntire County. It’s … I just can’t explain what it is. He’s Boyce.”

  “From what I’ve seen, he’s brought nothing but trouble to your front door.” Hamilton jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Case in point.”

  “This deal with his mother, I don’t think anyone could have foreseen it. But it’s not anything I couldn’t handle.”

  Hamilton leaned forward. “What happens when it becomes more than you can handle? He’s left you twice before. What stops him from doing it again?”

  Propping her chin on her fist, Cassy stared past him and tracked Boyce’s progress as he paced while talking on his phone once more. Would he leave her? A few days ago, he’d promised he’d be back, and he’d held true. But this ordeal with Ruby Jean was sure to mean he would return to Memphis to slough through a detailed investigation and a trial. What then?

  Yet things had changed; there was something different about him.

  “I don’t think it’ll be like that anymore,” Cassy finally said.

  “Answer me this,” Hamilton said in a lowered voice, “do you love him?”

  Her gaze linked with her boss’s. It was one thing to think about loving Boyce—it was a whole different thing to hear someone ask her outright. That same wave of uncertainty and excitement swept through her, making her skin pebble like she’d been chilled.

  One corner of Hamilton’s mouth turned up. “When you figure out the answer to that, I’ll reconsider my stance on the man’s presence in your life. Now your sister, on the other hand, is an entirely different story.”

  Cassy smiled and shook her head slightly. “Don’t worry about her. I’ll sic Con on her, and that’ll be the end of her complaints.”

  “Just make sure it’s the right choice.” Hamilton stood. “No one wants to be the one to pick up the pieces when you fall apart, Rivers.” He headed back into the living room.

  Pursing her lips, she watched him stride up to Liza. He might be worried about picking up the pieces, but Cassy was more concerned with even falling apart in the first place. She was stronger than that.

  Wasn’t she?

  As everyone left, escorting the criminals out of her house, Cassy tracked Ruby Jean’s departure. He’s a killer and a liar. Before anyone went to bed, she was getting that story out of Boyce. She pounced the instant the door closed.

  “One thing is bothering me about this whole episode.” She ran her hands along the collar of his shirt and rested them on each side of his neck. “Did you actually kill one of her husbands?”

  His body stilled. She felt the lack of nervous energy to her bones. They had come a long way tonight. Would he backtrack, deny Ruby Jean’s claims? He certainly hadn’t made a peep when she’d made them. Yet Boyce wasn’t the vicious-killer type. As long as Cassy had known him, she couldn’t put a finger on one time he’d actually drawn his gun and fired on someone. That’s not to say he hadn’t done it when she wasn’t with him, but she just couldn’t picture him doing it.

  Sighing like he’d pulled that breath from the depths of his soul, Boyce reached up and removed her hands from around his neck. “Cass, that murder was an act of self-defense. I was a stupid fourteen-year-old who thought I could repay the bastard for what he’d done to me.” He swallowed. The memory of that day had to be hard to relive. “I bit off more than I could chew, and when I tried to make my escape, he tripped or something and went over the railing. I didn’t see how it happened because I was running for my damn life. Somehow he got tangled up in wiring and hanged himself.”

  “Then why would she claim … never mind. I get it. It was just another mind game.”

  He gave her a weak smile then placed a kiss on her lips. “I know it seemed like a big deal, but that’s Ruby Jean for you. According to her, I ruined her life in every way. When her third husband died, he left her with nothing, and she had to start all over. But believe me, it didn’t take long. She had Gladstone snared in record time. And I managed to find a way to get out from under her.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that, but honestly, it made you better. Tonight you did what you’ve only dreamed of doing.”

  “With plenty of thanks to you.”

  “I told you not to worry about me. I can take care of myself.” The yawn finally won out.

  “We’re going to bed.”

  A tiny smile danced along her lips. “Yes, sir.”

  • • •

  Somewhere, a phone was ringing.

  Cassy swam through the mire trying to find the damn thing and shut it up. The shrill trill blasted through her head. Groaning, she flipped over, her hand smacking a warm, hard body, eliciting a grumbled response. Again with the ringing.

  Cassy pushed herself upright, fumbled off of the bed, and tottered over to the phone. She ceased the ringing mid-blast and cradled the handset to her ear. “This better be damn good to wake me up.”

  “Good morning, sunshine, or should I say good afternoon?”

  “Sir, I’m not in the mood for chipper. What is it?”

  Hamilton chuckled. “Well, Deputy Rivers, I think you’ll want to come down to the station, ASAP. We’ve had an interesting turn of events, and I know you’d want to be here to hear this.”

  Her befuddled mind cleared, and she straightened. “Hear what?”

  “Get dressed, Deputy, and get down here.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The moment Cassy walked into the bullpen, Hamilton beckoned her to his office. Leaving Boyce—who had insisted on coming with—to his own devices, she entered her boss’s domain, discovering he had a pair of college-aged coeds sitting on his broken-down sofa. The gal’s gaze flicked back and forth between Cassy, Hamilton, and the guy next to her. The guy looked like he wanted to throw up. Hamilton closed the door and sidestepped Cassy, heading for his desk.

  “Sir?”

  “Deputy Rivers, this is Faith Duncan and Aaron Marshall. These two are well acquainted with Kendra Clyde.”

  Cassy grabbed the only other empty chair in the office. “Is that so?” She swung the chair around in front of them and plopped down on it. “Can you tell me where Kendra is?”

  Aaron bowed his head, playing tiddlywinks with this thumbs. Faith, on the other hand, peered at him out of the corner of her eye, blew out a frustrated breath, and met Cassy’s gaze head-on.

  “We don’t know where she is exactly, but if it’s dirt you want on Kendra, we’re loaded a mile high.” Faith scooted to the edge of the couch and sat forward like a boxer preparing to have a one-on-one with her competition. “Lots of dirt.”

  Glancing at Hamilton, who flashed her a self-satisfied grin, Cassy frowned. “Why did you wait until now to come forward? It’s been five days since she went missing.”

  “I go to school out of state. I got in last night for Christmas break.”

  “The deaths made national news, and I’m sure your family would have contacted you about it.”

  Faith shrugge
d. “I’ve been in blackout mode for finals week. My family knows not to contact me unless it’s an emergency. I never pay attention to the news anyway.”

  “What about you, Aaron? Why now?”

  He didn’t raise his head, just fidgeted more with his hands. Faith gripped his shoulder and shook him but didn’t manage to rouse him.

  “He’s probably not going to say much,” she said and released him.

  “Then why come at all?” Cassy asked. “If you can’t contribute to this investigation, there’s no reason to be here.”

  That got Aaron’s attention—his head snapped back, and he glowered at her. “I have every reason to be here,” he said, his voice a deep rumble.

  “Prove it.”

  “I’m Kendra’s ex-boyfriend.”

  Cassy focused on Faith. “And what are you to Kendra Clyde?”

  “Her ex-best friend.”

  Pushing out of her chair, Cassy crooked a finger at her boss. “Excuse us a moment,” she said to the co-eds and moved to a far corner of the office.

  Keeping his back to the two, Hamilton crossed his arms and assumed his tough-cop stance. “What is it, Deputy Rivers?”

  “Why isn’t Agent Bartholomew in here questioning them?” she asked in a hushed voice.

  “She’s busy keeping watch over the prisoners; the marshals haven’t shown up yet.”

  “If the FBI is leading this investigation, they really should have someone in here representing them.”

  Hamilton’s gaze narrowed. “Meaning you want to drag your boyfriend in here when he’s supposed to be on vacation and not working.”

  “What else would you suggest? Leave him alone with his mother and her goons so Bartholomew can be in here? You’re fully aware that these two could finally give us the break we need in these homicides and robberies. We need the full backing of the FBI on this one, and that means someone has to be in here hearing this, too.”

  “Then get him.”

  She poked her head out the door and spotted Boyce lounging at her desk. “Hunt, we need you.”