He sat up and rubbed his head. Four-thirty in the morning. He wasn’t going back to sleep.
Since he’d met Victoria, he spent almost every night thinking about her when he laid his head on his pillow. And, recently, she was his first thought when he woke in the morning. What the hell was it about her? His desire was only growing more intense every time he saw her. There was just something about her he couldn’t seem to shake.
Danny was accustomed to having women fall all over him. Something about being a SEAL drove them crazy. The Teams had their groupies, for sure. He had no problem having a hell of an evening with one of them and then slipping out in the darkness of early morning. They all did. Even after he moved back to Texas, women seemed to be drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Eventually, he married one, and got burned. Scratch that–he got scorched.
Since finding his wife in bed with his best friend, he’d written off women. They were all cheaters with ulterior motives. He didn’t need that shit. But there was just something about Victoria. Something about her made him want to scoop her up and tell her everything was going to be okay. Something about her that made him want to take care of her. Make her break down the enormous emotional wall she’d built up. Make her smile and laugh again. Keep her safe. Be her man, her hero. She evoked feelings and emotions in him that he’d never felt before, for another woman. Not even his ex-wife.
She promised him she would open up about her dad. We’ll see, he thought.
He pulled himself out of bed. In nothing but boxer shorts he padded to the bathroom. His brown hair was extra messy this morning, his eyes tired. He leaned against the sink and looked at his reflection. Shit, man, he needed to stop thinking so much about Victoria. He splashed cold water on his face and slipped into his running gear.
Two hours later, Danny had an extra spring in his step as he walked into the station. He’d knocked out a six mile run, beating his previous time. His head felt clear. He’d even had time to stop for breakfast.
Walking through the front doors, he sipped his hot cup of six-dollar coffee. Much better way to start the day than with a lukewarm mug of the station’s coffee that could burn a hole through a man’s gut.
The station was quiet this time of morning, which is exactly one of the main reasons he came in early every day.
He made his way to his office, flicked on the bright florescent lights and sat at his desk.
The phone rang.
“Dabrowski.”
“Morning. It’s Mason.”
“Chief Mason, what can I do for you?”
“Just got off the phone with my contact from the Bureau. He’s pulling some strings and getting you the files on Charles Henry.”
“Finally. When?”
“Should get them sometime this morning. Look, I’m getting too many questions on this. I need you to close it right away. Any ID on the burn vic from the house?”
Danny scanned his unopened email. “Yep, just now, hang on.” He opened the latest email from his contact in Mexico, who received a hit in their fingerprint database.
“Juan Martinez, from Mexico. Age thirty-two. Got a rap sheet. Hang on.” He scanned through the email. “Looks like our boy was involved in gangs, most recently spotted with a notorious Mexican drug cartel.”
“Shit, man. This is already getting messier than I’d like. Okay, close it up. Quick. Let me know what you need from me.”
“Thanks, Mason. And, by the way, don’t forget I made a promise to Victoria Henry that we won’t let the news slip that William is not dead, and that no one seems to know where the hell he is.”
“I know and I’m counting on you to figure this out and make some arrests. Soon.”
“Understood. Will update soon.”
Click.
Reading through the report, Danny felt adrenaline surge through his body. So, the body wasn’t William’s but it was definitely someone who was a thug. What would William be doing meeting with someone like that?
He printed out the report on Juan Martinez, stepped out of his office and was almost plowed over by Bobby.
“Whoa, hey buddy, you’re here early.”
“Switched shifts with Walker.” He barely broke his stride. “Bomb threat at Flag Bank downtown.”
Less than five minutes later, Danny and Bobby rolled to a stop in front of the bank. Not far behind them were the roaring sounds of ambulances and fire trucks. Over a hundred people were scattered on the sidewalks and Danny could already see a media van on the far side of the building. What a mess. Bobby split off to go do crowd control and Danny approached the first gawker.
“Ma’am, who’s in charge of the bank?”
“Oh, officer, I’m so glad you’re here! Um, Mr. Davis, right over there.”
Danny jogged over to the man as he heard Bobby instructing everyone to turn off their cell phones and stay back at least three hundred feet from the building.
“Sir, I’m Lieutenant Dabrowski, is everyone out of the building?”
“Yes sir, I believe so.”
“Do you know who took the call?”
“Yes, sir, right here.” He tapped the arm of a young woman who was obviously distraught. “This is Susan Mitchell, the teller who took the call.” She turned around and ironically seemed more frightened when she looked up at Danny.
“Miss Mitchell, can you please tell me about the call?”
“Uh, yes, yes, um, I answered the phone and it was silent for a moment. I said hello again and a man told me there was a bomb in the bank.”
“Was it an older man or younger man?”
“Not an old man. Younger.”
“Accent?”
“No, sir.”
“What was the tone of his voice?”
“Actually, that surprised me because he seemed calm.”
Not a good sign. “Okay, then what?” He tried to reign in his impatience.
She looked down. “Well, I tried to remember my training,” she glanced at her boss and then back to Danny, “So, I asked who he was. He didn’t tell me, but he said the bomb was scheduled to go off soon and that everyone needs to get outside.”
“He instructed you to leave the building?”
“Yes, sir.”
Danny’s radar went off. He looked past her and scanned the crowd which had grown in the last five minutes. Bobby was shouting instructions to fellow officers, who were securing the area. The crowd looked anxious, nervous and some even looked excited to be a part of the drama. They all huddled in small groups, talking and pointing.
His eyes stopped on a man in a baseball cap pulled down low and heavy jacket, standing away from the crowd.
It was too warm for that jacket.
Tingles ran over Danny’s arms. Without a word, he side-stepped the young woman, eyes locked on the mystery man. The man looked around the crowd and began to open his jacket.
With tunnel vision, Danny took off in a sprint. Gasps and screams shouted around him, although he didn’t hear a word of it. The man reached into his jacket and Danny’s pulse spiked as he saw the sunlight reflect off the shaft of a handgun. Adrenaline flooded Danny’s veins as he leapt through the air, just as the gun was being raised.
BAM!
A shot rang through the air as Danny tackled the man to the ground. The gunman’s aim was thrown off and the bullet narrowly missed the crowd and hit a tree. The skinny rat was no match for Danny’s six foot-three inch, muscular body. Within seconds, Danny had the gun in his hand and the man flipped on his back. Officers surrounded him as he cuffed the gunman.
* * * *
It was three o’clock by the time Danny got back to the office and debriefed. The bomb threat was a hoax. The gunman was a disgruntled employee whose intentions were to get everyone outside of the building and execute a massacre. He had three firearms and two grenades under his jacket. Danny had saved potentially dozens of lives.
What a hell of a day it had turned out to be, and to top it all off, he hadn’t received a call from Victoria to
meet for their chat. Exhausted, Danny sat down at his desk and scrolled through his email.
There it was. The sealed FBI file on Charles Henry. He felt a rush of renewed energy as he opened the zip drive and began opening the documents.
The case had been cold for over thirty years and as he scanned the first few documents, he couldn’t help but take notice to how much policy and procedure had changed and improved since then. He leaned forward and opened each document with laser focus. The deeper he got into the file, the more his pulse picked up.
He hit print and picked up the phone. “Wilson, pick up my papers at the printer and come to my office immediately.”
Under forty-five seconds later, Rookie Wilson knocked at the door.
“Come in, sit.” Danny’s voice was hyper, impatient.
Wilson handed him the documents and sat down.
Danny riffled through the papers, highlighting a few sections.
“These highlights…” He pointed to the paper. “Phone numbers, websites, email addresses, I need you to research each and let me know what you find. Immediately.”
Wilson blinked.
“These are all numbers and email addresses that Victoria’s father, Charles Henry communicated with before he was murdered.”
He nodded, “Ah, yes sir.”
“Also look for any connection to John Mortin–the COO from King Chemicals who ran off into the ravine—or a Mexican drug cartel.”
Sensing the rookie’s insecurity, Danny scribbled on a piece of paper and threw him a bone. “Call this number for help–John McAndrew in forensics. He’s a computer genius. He’ll tell you what databases to search for information.”
“Thank you, sir.” Wilson stood.
“Wilson, I need it in an hour.”
“Yes, sir.” He paused. “By the way, I’ve started my research into William King and his company and a few things have jumped out.”
“Yes?”
“Well, he made a lot of trips to Mexico in the last few months. I started digging deeper, looking for anything out of the ordinary. On the last two visits, he met with a small construction company which seemed kind of random. Well, on the day he left, one of the men he met with was killed in an auto accident and one is still missing. Just thought that was interesting.”
Danny nodded and scribbled on his notepad. “It sure is. Send me all you have on that.”
“Will do.”
“But, Wilson, your top priority right now is digging into this Charles Henry file.”
“Yes, sir.”
Danny leaned back and rubbed the back of his neck. He’d wait to contact Victoria until he received the report from Wilson, although his gut instinct already knew the results.
* * * *
It was seven that evening when Danny finally left the station. Wilson had briefed him on the findings from the Charles Henry data dig. No surprises, his gut was always right. And, he needed to talk to Victoria. STAT.
Feeling the ache of a headache coming on, he decided to drive through for some fast food before going home to grab a shower. He wanted to be clear-headed when he dropped in on Victoria.
What a freakin’ day.
Carrying a brown paper sack with grease stains seeping through the sides, he dragged himself up to his apartment and stepped into the dark dismal place he called home.
He was getting sick of this place. All the noise, college kids, divorcees, yappy dogs. At his age, he should have a home. A family, happiness… contentment.
He plopped down on his brown sofa and opened the sack of food.
The phone rang. A California number. From the SEAL base.
“Dabrowski.”
“Danny, how the fuck are ya?”
“Well, I’ll be damned. Lieutenant Monroe.”
A chuckle from the other end of the phone. “Yep.”
“You still in Cali?”
“Hell, yeah, man. How you doing…ya know, with your mom and all. I know it was six months ago, but, still…”
“I drank the handle of Walker Blue ya’ll sent the day she was buried. It helped, thanks.”
“I would’ve been there, buddy.”
“I know, I know. I didn’t want anyone there.”
“Alright, enough of that. How’s the police work?”
“About as you’d imagine.”
“That’s what I thought. So, how would you feel about coming back to Cali?”
Danny’s heart skipped a beat. “I’m listening…”
“In a SEAL BUD/S training role.”
It wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. “Training role, huh?”
“Yep. Tisevich is looking for someone and he asked about you. Told him I’d holla at you and get back with him if you were interested.”
Danny rubbed his head and looked around his apartment. The bland beige walls, the tiny windows. The wilted, dying plant in the corner that his elderly neighbor left on his doorstep the day she moved out. Dirty dishes stacked in the sink.
His eyes landed on the bag of greasy, disgusting fast food.
“Fuck, yeah, I’m interested.”
“I thought so, buddy. Alright, I’ll let Tisevich know you’re considering and I’m sure he’ll give you a buzz.”
“Sounds good, man.”
“See ya.”
“Bye.”
Danny set down his phone and the corner of his lip turned up. He felt a rush of excitement, which was surprisingly followed by apprehension. He was good at his job, and this case could be huge. Maybe he’d be chief one day. On the other hand, he was a damn good SEAL, too. But, a training role?
He clicked on the evening news as he popped a chicken finger in his mouth.
“Oh shit.” He turned up the volume.
“…body was an unidentified Hispanic male. Authorities are investigating possible arson. As for William King’s whereabouts, they are unknown at this time.”
His phone rang. He didn’t even need to look at the caller ID.
“Chief Mason.”
“What the fuck, Dabrowski?!”
Danny stood. “Fucking leak.”
“No shit! Damn it. The media’s going to be camped out.”
He clicked off the TV. “I’ll handle it.”
“Do it, Dabrowski, and do it quick.”
“Yes, sir.”
Click.
Danny wrapped up the rest of his dinner and threw it in the trash. Skipping the shower, he grabbed his keys and the Charles Henry folder, and headed to his truck.
Chapter 15
He blew out a breath as he pulled up to the Four Seasons. Two media vans and a small crowd had gathered out front, all waiting for Victoria Henry, anxious to ask her about the just released, scandalous news regarding her back-from-the-dead husband.
He did a quick u-turn and headed to the parking garage. Taking the side entrance, he rode the elevator up to the top floor to her room.
Knock, knock, knock.
No answer.
He knocked louder this time.
No answer.
“Sir?”
He turned around to see housekeeping.
“Yes?”
“No one’s there.”
He looked back at the door, and then back at the maid. “What do you mean?”
“She’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“I don’t know. She checked out yesterday.”
He blinked a few times, letting that sink in.
The housekeeper shook her head. “She was a very nice lady. Too bad she’s gone. Big tipper.”
“What time did she leave?”
“Middle of the night.”
“Did she have any visitors yesterday?”
“I don’t think so.”
The housekeeper looked over her shoulder and walked closer. She leaned forward and whispered, “She didn’t look good.”
“No?”
“Bruises and stuff. She tried to hide it, but I saw.”
“Bruises?”
“Y
es, on her face.”
His pulse picked up. “Thank you…”
“Maria.”
He handed her his card. “Please call me if you think of anything else.”
“Yes, sir. I hope she’s okay.”
“Me too.”
As he jogged down the steps, he pulled out his phone.
“Wilson here.”
“Wilson, get me the security tapes for the Four Seasons top floor. Namely, the presidential suite. And the name of any visitors seeing Victoria Henry. And outside security tapes, too…find her getting into her car last night. Hell, get me any info you can.”
“Yes, sir.”
He hung up and dialed the station.
“Bobby here.”
“Hey, it’s Danny.”
“Hey, man, what’s up?”
“Starting tonight, start making rounds on the Henry house and her gallery until we wrap this case up. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious or out of the ordinary.”
“Will do, man. Hey, I heard about the leak. If I find out who did it, I’ll wring ‘em myself.”
“Let me finish ‘em off.”
He chuckled. “Will do. Will keep you updated on the patrols.”
“Thanks buddy. Oh, and take Wilson on a few of them. He needs the break from all the paperwork and research I’ve given him.”
Bobby groaned. “Alright, alright, alright.”
Danny jumped in his truck and pulled out his folder. He flipped through the papers until he found the list of William King’s current residences. He closed his eyes and took a moment to consider where she would go.
A few seconds later, he sped out of the parking garage and headed toward the lake.
It was almost ten o’clock by the time he pulled up the rock driveway to the lake house. As he topped the hill, he saw lights glowing on the first floor. Bingo. Relief washed over him as he slowed to a stop in front of the house. At least that drive wasn’t for nothing.
He paused after cutting off the engine. Is she alone? Is she with William? Is she with another man?
He stepped out of his truck and slipped on his jacket to conceal his gun. A light flicked off in a side room as he walked up the steps. Before he could knock, the door opened.
She stood there with her hair up in a messy bun and no makeup. She wore a tight white tank top and grey sweatpants. Bare feet. Her hand gripped a Smith & Wesson 460.
Lethal Legacy Page 12
