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Inked Killer (A Tattoo Crimes Novel Book 2)

Page 21

by A. J. Norris


  A short haired, clean-shaven Cam came into the cabin through the broken kitchen window. Harry nearly laughed when he saw his ATF branded Kevlar vest and shield. He stood over his uncle.

  “C-Cam…” Eric pleaded, his hand twitching as if in his mind he reached out for his nephew.

  “I’m not your nephew, you piece of shit!” Eric’s eyes widened one last time before his head lolled to the side. “I’d cuff you, but you’re already dead.”

  “Is Brayden safe?”

  “Safe and unharmed,” Cam said.

  Tears stung the back of Harry’s eyes. “Thank God.”

  Twirling his hand around, Cam said, “Sorry about all this.”

  Harry looked at Eric then back up at Cam, who held his hand out. Harry let Cam help him off the floor. “Thanks.” They stood starting at each other for what seemed like hours.

  Harry broke the silence. “So this whole time…great. Undercover…asshole. This entire time.”

  Cam shrugged with a smirk. “Been watching this asshole for years. ATF.” He stuck his hand out. “Hi, I’m Alex Kingswood, nice to finally meet you.”

  “Yeah, nice. You could’ve just fucking told me.”

  “Actually, no, I couldn’t. I came close a few times though.”

  More ATF agents entered the house through the front door.

  “How did you know we were here?”

  “Your family told me, but after I found out that Agent Wilkes insulted you by refusing your case files, I wanted to apologize. Then a waitress from the Nifty Chef called and said you told her to call it in.”

  “She used my name?”

  “Yeah. I got concerned when you didn’t answer your phone and weren’t home. I knew this cabin wasn’t far from the restaurant. Eric had seen me look this place up online while I was checking you out.”

  Harry narrowed his stare.

  “Oh, you’d do the same thing. Like you didn’t check everything out about me. Of course, you couldn’t find shit on me other than a petty crime sheet. Anyway, Eric made a big deal about it, so I told him the place was for sale and I was looking at it. I never thought he bought the story though.”

  “Does my family know anything that’s going on?”

  “Yeah, and they’re here.”

  This got Harry out of the house seconds later, followed closely by Alex. Grace, Mikey, and Brayden sat on the bumper of an ambulance. Now that the situation was under control and the perp was dead, dozens of FBI, ATF personnel, and vans, police cruisers, and emergency vehicles had arrived. He’d been aware of the sirens and engines pulling up, except nothing prepared him for the amount of lights flashing and semi-ordered chaos he’d walk into.

  Brayden was sandwiched between Grace and Mikey. Harry scanned the area, looking for Natalie. Had she come with Grace and her family?

  “Harry!” Brayden shouted, running toward him. Mikey came forward, keeping his distance. The man knew when to back off. Harry needed this moment with his grandson. Brayden smashed into him. If it hadn’t been for the kid wrapping his arms around his waist, Harry might have fallen over. He hugged him back so tightly, they may have fused together. And damn him, he cried harder than Brayden. “I was scared, there were so many gunshots, I thought you were dead.”

  “No, no, buddy, I’m fine.” Harry’s eyes blurred with tears to the point he no longer saw much of anything.

  “Good. I love you and I’m not ready to give you up. You still haven’t taught me how to fish.”

  Harry chuckled with tears pouring from his eyes. “I love you too, Brayden. I love you…too.”

  “I’m glad you still know the word,” Natalie placed a hand on his shoulder.

  Harry gave Brayden one last squeeze. “Will you let me talk to Natalie? I’ll come find you later.” The kid nodded but stayed put. “I’m sure your dad and Grace…” Natalie clasped his elbow and turned him toward her.

  “He’s fine,” she said. Tear tracks lined her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, I want to tell you how much you mean—”

  “Shhh, it’s okay.” Natalie embraced him and he put his head into the crook of her neck. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready. It was wrong for me to pressure you into saying something you’re not ready for. I don’t want to you tell me you love me out of guilt or obligation.”

  “But Natalie, I do lo—”

  “I love you and I want you to be happy. And that means I can’t be selfish.”

  “Expecting the person you’re in love with to feel the same as you isn’t selfish, Nat.”

  “I know you feel the same.”

  Harry picked his head up and studied her face. “Okay, what did Brayden say to you?”

  “I didn’t tell her anything,” Brayden said. “Honest.” He put his palms up.

  “He didn’t.”

  Harry brought his lips to hers. “It was Grace then.”

  “Uh uh,” Natalie said. Harry kissed her slowly, savoring the feel of her lips.

  “Yay! They’re kissing! Dad! Grace!” Brayden shouted.

  Harry smiled against her lips. “I love you.”

  “Yeah, I know you love him,” she said.

  “Will you stop with that? I’m in love with you.” He kissed her again. “I love this woman! Right here, I love her!” Harry shouted. The closest agents and cops all stopped and stared. A few clapped.

  “Shhhhhhhh, quiet.”

  “Why? Am I embarrassing you?” Harry smiled so widely his cheeks hurt.

  Grace came over and hugged him. Brayden must have felt left out because he wanted in on the hug.

  Mikey gave Harry a quick hug too. “Thank you.” They nodded both in respect for one another.

  “Harry,” Brayden cleared his throat, “will you marry Natalie already?”

  “You want us to get married?” Harry looked at Natalie, who smiled.

  “I was thinking that I’d like a new grandma and if I could pick one, I’d choose her.”

  “So she meets with your approval. I must say you have great taste, kid. I choose her too.” Everyone came together for a group hug. There was lots of I-love-yours and never-leave-mes tossed around.

  In all the excitement, Harry had nearly forgotten about his missing best friend. “Has anyone seen Cedric?” He broke from the hug with a surge of panic.

  There was a collective response from the group. “I don’t kn—”

  “I’m right here,” Cedric said, visibly overcome with emotion. He apparently had come out of nowhere and found them all hugging and had joined in without anyone noticing.

  “Have you been here the whole time?”

  “Nooo,” his voice wavered. “The police finally let me through.”

  “Aw, get in here,” Natalie said.

  And he did. Harry’s family stayed locked together for long time and he knew it would last forever.

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-EIGHT

  A shotgun almost ended his life. It only seemed fitting that Harry and Natalie would have a shotgun wedding. One month after Harry’s near death experience, they got married. The ceremony was short and the reception small, but it was exactly what he and Natalie wanted, surrounded by family and good friends.

  Harry had moved the last bit of his belongings into his and his new wife’s house this morning before work. They decided to have him move in with her and sell his home. He loved idea of closing the door on his past. There would always be room for Annie in his heart, except Natalie did more than take up space there, she was his heart.

  Sarah Donaldson never regained memory of the man who had attacked her, however, there was no uncertainty as to his identity. The only good thing to have come out of this terrible tragedy was Judge Merlow and his wife had closure and justice for their daughter. As for Eric Lund’s other victims, he hoped their spirits rested well knowing their killer couldn’t hurt anyone ever again.

  Okay, one other good thing came out of the case. Harry had a new partner; Alex Kingswood. Although only in his mid-twenties, he had grown tired
of the undercover game and wanted to settle down and call someplace his home, instead of living wherever, whenever, and whatever he was told. He applied for the vacant detective spot and got it. Harry thought he might resent the young punk, but he only felt relief. Natalie was happier too. He and his new partner could split the late-night-always-on-call-even-when-you’re-off-the-clock shifts.

  Harry pulled into his driveway at 6:00 PM, right on time for dinner. This was now a regular occurrence. Natalie had asked him what he wanted for dinner this morning, and jokingly he had said, ‘turkey with all the trimmings’. When he entered the kitchen through the garage, wonderful turkey and dressing smells greeted him.

  “What did you do?” He went over to her stirring gravy on the stove and kissed her cheek.

  She chuckled. “Yeah, I went a little overboard. I had a craving.” She rubbed her growing baby belly. “Tomorrow we’ll invite everyone over for leftovers. But tonight, we feast.”

  Harry laughed. “I love you.”

  Natalie brought unexpected happiness to his life every day. However, seeing her standing there, carrying his unborn child, imagining her holding his baby girl in a few months brought him the greatest joy.

  EPILOGUE

  Harry

  “Mrs. Mason called,” Rudy said, coasting by Harry’s open office door in his wheeled chair.

  “Any idea what she wants?”

  Rudy glanced at his watch. “It’s Wednesday, isn’t it?” The cop scooted himself back to his desk.

  Harry glanced at Alex across their desks. He now shared an office with his new partner. A second desk had been crammed into the tiny room and butted up to his. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll drive.”

  “Where are we going?” Alex asked, grabbing his coat.

  “You’ll see. It’s Wednesday.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he raised an eyebrow, “and in another week, it will also be Wednesday.”

  Harry smirked. “Smart ass.”

  They headed out to Harry’s tan Buick and drove to Colette Mason’s house.

  “Tell me something. There’s one thing I don’t get about the Lund case,” Harry said as he pulled onto Colette’s street.

  “What’s that?” Alex stroked his jawline.

  “Why did that asshole believe you were his nephew?”

  “He was an idiot.”

  “Agreed, but what gives?”

  “He had an estranged sister who had OD’d and a nephew he’d never met. She was about ten years older than her brother.”

  “What happened to the real nephew? Is he even still alive?”

  “FBI agent, so he couldn’t go undercover. Conflict of interest.”

  “Um?”

  “Yeah,” Alex laughed. “Pretty fucked up.”

  Harry shook his head and pulled into the woman’s driveway. Alex was first onto her porch and knocked on the door. Harry trotted up the two steps. Colette yelled from somewhere inside the house, “Be there in a minute!”

  She swung the door open and confusion crossed over the frail looking white-haired woman’s face. Harry put himself in front of Alex. “Hi, Mrs. Mason, I’m Detective Hunter and this is my partner Detective Kingswood.” Harry held up his badge and Collette read it, squinting. “Can you tell me what the problem is today?” He knew what she was going to say.

  “Come in, let me make you some tea.”

  “I’m not much of a tea drinker. Do you have coffee?”

  Alex looked confused and mouthed, What are you doing?

  “Of course I have coffee.” Colette opened the screen door, allowing him and Alex inside.

  Harry took a seat on the French blue living room couch, the kind with the fancy clawed feet. His partner stood by one of the high-backed chairs. She waddled into the kitchen. The men smirked at each other and Alex said, “What’s going on here?”

  Harry put his finger up to his lips. “Shhh, you’ll see.”

  A few minutes later, coffee aroma filled the small ranch. Mrs. Mason carried a silver tray in which the cups and saucers rattled because of her shaky hands. She placed the tray down on the coffee table and Alex helped steady it. The tray landed with a thump and a clang anyway. Harry covered his mouth with his hand, stifling a chuckle. With her cup of coffee, she took a seat on a chair.

  “So,” Harry began, “what can we help you with today?”

  She glanced at Alex then looked at Harry and whispered like she didn’t trust his much younger partner, “My husband is gone.”

  “How long has he been missing?” Alex asked.

  “Oh, I’m not quite sure. This morning—”

  Alex flipped open a field notebook. “What time did you see him last?”

  Colette ignored the question.

  “Mrs. Mason, I need to show you something. Can you take a ride with us?” Harry said. He motioned with a slight head shake for Alex to put the notebook away.

  What? he mouthed. Although, it was more like ‘what’s wrong with you?’

  Harry waved him off while she wasn’t looking.

  “You must find my James, he’s lost without me.”

  “We’ll do everything we can,” Alex offered. “Has he ever gone missing before?”

  “Oh, no.” She placed her hand over her heart.

  Harry set his cup down and so did she. “Ready?”

  Mrs. Mason nodded.

  Once the three of them were in the Buick, Harry drove them through town, past Ink Addiction and Cocoa, until they reached the cemetery. The car turned onto the driveway and rolled past the tall gates. His car almost navigated the route without him even having to steer. Toward the back of the graveyard, Harry veered onto a car path on their left. He parked the car and they all stepped out.

  “Why are we here?” Alex asked. A question Harry ignored.

  Silently, Harry took Mrs. Mason’s arm and guided her over to a plot with a large headstone. Alex smiled tightly when he realized what was happening.

  “Colette, listen to me,” Harry said. “Your husband died.”

  She sniffled and read the headstone. “James Mason, 1934–2010…Colette Mason, 1938…that’s my name on there.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Alex said.

  She stayed quiet, staring at the tombstone. “Dead, huh? Good. Make sure they don’t bury me next to that sonofabitch, will ya?” Colette marched back to the car, leaving them eyeing each other for a moment.

  Alex roared with a contagious laughter. And even though it was unprofessional Harry laughed too. He loved his job.

  BEFORE YOU GO…

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  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I’d like to thank my readers, friends, and family for their continued support. Without you none of this would be possible. I also want to give a shout out to: M Rain Ranalli, Phil S., Angela Campbell, Felicia A. Sullivan, and Team Limitless.

  About the Author

  A.J. Norris is a lover of all books but her loyalty remains with her first crush; romance. She graduated from a mid-western college with a degree in absolutely nothing to do with writing whatsoever. It wasn’t until well after college when the build-up of voices inside her head became too overwhelming and needed to be let out, that she began to write. She isn’t following a family legacy of writers, only a need to put words on a piece of paper.

  A.J. is a movie buff, especially book adaptations, loves watching her son play baseball and communing with other writers. She lives with her family who are extremely tolerant (at least most of the time) of all her late nights behind the computer, clack clacking away.

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