Stark Raving Mad (Chicago's Finest Book 2)

by Vanessa Knight

  She scrolled through the texts. He’d known about this since last night. Why didn’t he tell her? Why weren’t they already heading back to the city?

  Allison was taken and alone.

  And Joe had tried to hide it from her.

  “Wait before you use my…” Joe ran out towel in hand.

  “Phone?” She turned the screen to him. “Were you going to tell me about this?”

  “We thought it be best if you stay out of it.”

  “You thought? What about what I thought? I should have a say in this. He has my sister. We can’t just sit here. We need to be downtown by five.” Five hours. Crap.

  “Yes, we can just sit here. Shay and Adam are the best…”

  “Bullshit! If they were the best she wouldn’t be missing.” She needed her phone. If he wasn’t going to get her to the city, she’d get there herself.

  She opened his phone app and dialed her cell. The familiar chirp came from his duffel bag. Disgust swirled down her spine.

  He stole her phone.

  She ripped open his duffel and un-stole her phone. She wanted to keep his. See how it feels, buddy. But she didn’t keep it, she threw his at him instead. Oh yeah. That felt almost as good. “I’m leaving.” She shoved her clothes in her bag and stomped toward the living room.

  “Be reasonable.”

  “Reasonable. You stole my phone!”

  “Brook, if you go, you’ll just get in the way. Instead of them just having to protect her, they’ll need to protect you, too.”

  “No they won’t. They’ll get Allison out of this mess. That’s what needs to be done.”

  “At what cost? Your life?”

  “It’s my problem. I should deal with it. Not her.”

  “I’m not driving you.” He leaned against the couch and ran a hand through his hair. “There’s no taxi service out this far.”

  “I’ll walk.”

  “Really?”

  “Fine. I’ll call Todd.”

  “By the time he gets here, you won’t have time to get back.”

  “You’re pretty proud of yourself, huh? Lying to me. No way to leave. Keeping me here as your screw buddy.”

  “Seriously? You really think that little of me?” He stomped over and leaned into her. Bruno growled. Joe stepped back. “It was killing me not telling you. I wanted to tell you over and over again.”

  “Then why didn’t you? And don’t tell me Shay told you not to. I saw the texts.

  She kept asking if you told me. She told you to tell me. I deserved to know.”

  “Fine. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d leave.” He turned, his steps covering the room.

  “Yes, bye-bye, bed buddy.”

  He spun around, muscles tensing. “Woman, if you call yourself that one more time, I swear…” He took a deep breath. “I was afraid I’d lose you. All I kept seeing were flower boxes full of your body parts. Parts I’ve grown to like, shit— grown to love.”

  She watched his downturned eyes and stress-hunched shoulders. Worry radiated off every move. He cared. She might be pissed, but she couldn’t deny the sentiment. “Love?”

  “Yeah. Took me by surprise, too.” He attempted a smile. “I love you.”

  Heat swelled in her chest as the words rang in her ears. He loved her. Just thinking the words made her heart beat a little faster, a little stronger. She felt like the Grinch hanging over that cliff, her heart bursting and growing in her chest. “I love you too, but dammit, Joe, this is big.”

  Neither one made a move. Her feet were glued to the floor. Her heart afraid of what she just admitted.

  “I know. What does that mean?” His statue impersonation didn’t alter.

  “It means you can’t hide things from me. I deserve to know and if I can’t trust you to tell me...”

  “You can trust me.” He slid closer.

  “I need to know what’s going on with my family.” “Okay.” He took another step closer.

  “I need you to be honest with me.”

  “Fair enough.” Another step and he stood inches from her. He ran a finger down the side of her face. “I love you.”

  Her skin prickled as she leaned into the caress. He loved her. It felt so good. “I just can’t let you go.” Joe leaned into her, his eyebrows pinched with worry.

  “But I have to go.” Her chest hurt just saying the words, but she couldn’t let her sister suffer. She couldn’t let her sister endure any pain for Brook’s mistakes.

  “I can’t.” He walked away. Walked down the hall and into the bedroom. Didn’t look back. Didn’t give her a chance to argue.

  Conversation over.

  She looked around the small cabin. How the hell was she going to get out of here? Joe was right. They were in the middle of nowhere. There was no public transportation this far out. No taxis. They were lucky there were restaurants that delivered.

  Car Rental. She opened a browser on her phone and found the closest car rental place. Twenty miles. Now she just had to get there.

  Her eyes darted to the refrigerator. Handwritten numbers covered a Chinese takeout menu hanging there. Tyler. Maybe he wouldn’t mind driving her.

  She dialed. “Hi, Tyler, this is Brook. Joe’s friend. I need to rent a car. Can you pick me up and take me to a rental car place?”

  “Yeah. Let me get this delivery together and I’ll be out there.”

  “Don’t ring the bell. I’ll meet you outside.”

  “Okay?” The question in his teenage voice was unmistakable.

  “I’m just in a hurry.” She shoved her paperwork and laptop into her briefcase. “I’ll see you when you get here.”

  “I’ll leave in about five.”

  Great. She should be on the road in a half hour. And back in Chicago just in time to meet Dennis and get her sister back.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The sun was hanging on the edge of the horizon as the Chicago skyline came into view. Large buildings glinted in the orange setting sun. Brook had a half hour. A half hour to get into the heart of the city.

  Her cell phone rang. She didn’t bother looking at the screen. What was the point? She knew who it was. The same man who called her cell phone fifteen times on the way down from Wisconsin. Joe.

  She didn’t know what to say to him. He’d be pissed. He had every right. She shouldn’t have left, not without saying goodbye. But he’d made his opinion clear. He couldn’t let her go to her sister. She had to go. They couldn’t seem to agree so she had to walk away. She had to go after her sister.

  Someday, maybe he’d understand. She couldn’t let her family down. She couldn’t let anyone else pay for her mistake.

  Cars surrounded her as she navigated the Chicago evening traffic. She was never going to make it. Dammit.

  She had to make it. There was no other option. This was Allison’s life she was messing with here.

  She slammed on the gas and swung in and out of traffic. The few times she rode the shoulder might have been slightly illegal, but she didn’t have choice. She had to get to the heart of the city before Dennis disappeared with Allison.

  Joe mentioned not wanting Brook’s body parts in flower boxes. Well, hell, Brook couldn’t handle having that happen to her sister. She didn’t want to find her sister in flower boxes or any other types of boxes.

  Her lead foot settled on the pedal as she rounded the exit and merged onto the Chicago streets. Fifteen minutes.

  She sped toward a changing light. Crap. The light hung at amber. Brook smashed the gas pedal and blew the by-then red light.

  Woohoo. She laughed. Race car driver was going on her résumé if she lived through this. She glanced at the clock. She might just make it.

  A siren squawked as blue and red lights twirled in her rearview mirror.

  Crap! Crap! Crap! She couldn’t stop. She didn’t have time. Twelve minutes.

  How many times had she argued on behalf of people in this situation, breaking the law for some personal reason? I was late
for work. I was heading to the hospital. I was trying to meet a deadline so a crazy person doesn’t kill my sister. All those people who thought they were above the law. Now, here she was driving furiously fast, like Lady Justice was on her side. Who knew if she was?

  Honestly, Brook didn’t care. If the bitch didn’t like it, Brook would see her in court. This was life or death, and she would do whatever she had to do to get to her sister. Even if it meant pissing off old Lady Justice.

  Squawking horns blasted behind her as the cop car advanced closer and closer to her bumper. She had to lose them. She couldn’t stop with them riding her tail like this. She switched to the left hand lane, cutting off a taxi cab. She could almost make out the swear words he was calling her in her rear view mirror.

  Almost. She was too busy trying to put some distance between her and her followers to worry about it.

  The cops switched lanes behind her. The taxi laid on the horn, probably calling them inappropriate names, too. Definitely not his day.

  Another light. Green. The lights turned green as she drove, the space between her and the cop car growing smaller and smaller while the traffic grew heavier. She couldn’t stay on the streets for much longer. The bumper-to-bumper, double- parking on narrow one-way streets was up ahead. In other words, Chicago street gridlock. Once she hit that, she couldn’t move and they’d have her.

  A car would never get her to where she needed to go. It was either by foot or not at all. She needed to park. She needed to get to the meeting before Dennis.

  A large sign indicating parking hung from the building up the block, on the right. If she could get over and get lost in the parking garage, she just might lose her tail.

  She zipped across three lanes of traffic and turned into the garage. Rubber stuttering and squealing filled the air as the cops slammed their brakes but overshot the opening.

  She bought herself a few minutes with her interesting maneuvers. Yes. Her rental flew up the ramp until she came up to an open spot. She swung between the yellow lines and jumped out of the car.

  She ran toward the stairs, the sound of sirens echoing in the expanse, growing closer. The warped stair treads clicked as her gym shoes hit each stair. She reached for the door to the outside. Were the cops waiting there?

  She couldn’t stop and figure it out. She checked her watch. Five minutes.

  She had five minutes to get five blocks. She burst through the doors, head angled so her blond hair fanned over her face. Please don’t let anyone notice me.

  * * *

  Joe had never driven so fast, but he was hoping to catch up with Brook on the highway. He figured he’d have a jump start on her since she’d conned Tyler into taking her to a car rental place. His girl was resourceful.

  Then she headed toward the city. At least that’s where he assumed she was heading. He didn’t see her along the highway, but he had no idea what type of car she was driving.

  He walked up to the group of cops standing in the back of the cafe at the corner of Illinois and Michigan Avenues. Adam murmured directions at the plain-clothes officers as everyone took their places.

  This was a perfect place for Stark to choose, since Illinois Avenue sloped under Michigan Avenue here. The officers were mostly stationed on Michigan, but they’d had to spread them pretty thin covering all the entrances and exits on lower Illinois. Not to mention the underground train entrances.

  “Officer Schmidt,” Byrnes called out over the group. A woman with blonde hair hanging down her back turned. The hair was right and the body was close, but the bone structure was off. Not that Stark would notice the difference between Schmidt and Brook, but Joe knew.

  In fact, they were banking on Stark not being able to tell the difference. Dammit. It had to work. Joe just hoped that Brook didn’t come in and screw it up. Or worse, get herself hurt. Why couldn’t she have just taken his calls? He tried to call her, tell her the plan, but she wouldn’t answer that damn phone.

  Better yet, why couldn’t she have just stayed at the cabin? He told a woman he loved her, and she ran away without a goodbye. Not a good sign.

  Shay and Adam pointed and yelled, testing cameras and communication equipment. They were ready. They’d worked all night on this plan, and it just might work. Of course, the two looked like hell—bloodshot eyes, crazy hair, and they were mainlining caffeine. Not that Joe was surprised. Adam had a lot riding on this operation. His fiancée. His future.

  Joe could understand the half-crazed glint in his eyes. The determination with which he barked every order. There was no room for failure.

  “We’ll be following you through the tracker in your necklace. Try not to lose it.” Adam turned back to the screens. Cameras were covering every angle of the intersection. Everyone had an earpiece but Schmidt. They didn’t want to tip off Stark.

  Showtime.

  Schmidt walked out the door of the café and sat on the lip of a cement bench surrounding a flower garden. She kept her head lowered, chewing on her nails as she glanced at her cell phone and then back and forth down the street. Not bad.

  She could pass for Brook.

  Silence fell over the room until Adam clicked the button on his mouthpiece, “Make sure you watch for the real Brooklyn Southby. We need to keep her away from Stark.” He glared at Joe before turning away.

  Yeah, Joe knew his friend was pissed, but what the heck was Joe supposed to do? Lock her in the closet?

  Dammit. He should’ve locked Brook in the closet.

  “Byrnes, it’s Brook.” Pretty boy Lopez pointed at the screen.

  A few blocks down Michigan, a woman ran through the swarms of people.

  That had to be her. Joe turned toward the door.

  “Stop! Stark knows you,” Adam snarled at Joe, and then spoke into his mouthpiece. “Kitchner, go get her. Tell her what’s going on and pull her into the donut shop. Just get her out of the way.”

  Kitchner ran out the door and slid into the donut shop doorway. Joe just watched. Helpless. Brook’s frantic look getting closer and closer. She reached the entrance for the shop and arm flew out. Brook vanished behind the glass.

  “Kitchner, you got her?” Adam asked into the mouthpiece.

  Silence.

  “Kitchner?”

  Something wasn’t right. Why wasn’t he answering?

  “I’m heading over there.” Joe walked to the door, but Adam’s hand latched onto his arm.

  “No. It hasn’t gone down yet.”

  Adam’s cell phone chirped. Joe leaned over his shoulder and caught the incoming message.

  Even trade.

  A picture of Allison tied up in front of the precinct popped onto his screen.

  Trade? Fuck. Joe didn’t have time to think, didn’t have time for anything. He had to get to Brook. His heart thumped in his chest as he ran out the door. He didn’t hear Adam give the orders for someone back at the precinct to verify that she was there. That the picture was legit. Joe knew. He knew Stark got what he wanted. Which meant…

  Joe threw open the door to the donut shop. He followed the screams echoing from the kitchen and nearly tripped over Kitchner.

  “Officer down!” Joe yelled into his mouthpiece as he felt the cop’s neck for a pulse. Strong thumps pounded under his fingertips. Knocked out, yes, but he should live.

  A woman leaned out from behind one of the desks. “You’re a cop.” “Yeah. Did you see anyone come through here? Dark blonde woman.”

  “Yeah, the man grabbed her and went that way.” She pointed to the back of the building.

  “Where does this lead?” Joe asked as Shay and Adam fell in line behind him. “If you follow the back stairs, Illinois and Rush.” Adam called into his earpiece, “We need a few cars at Illinois and Rush. The rest of you comb the streets. Stark has Brooklyn.”

  They ran through the hallways, guns drawn, and stomped down the back stairs. The door at the bottom opened to an alleyway, where soft floral scents from a garbage can stuffed with dying flowers covered the stench
of the city.

  Unmarked cars idled at the corner. Adam snatched open a driver’s door. “Out. Washington, take Lopez. Go to the girlfriend’s. Perretti, come with me. We’re going to talk to Stark’s sister again.”

  Joe slid by Adam and jumped behind the wheel. Byrnes could dictate all he wanted, but Joe wasn’t going to stand by any longer. His woman was in trouble now. It was Joe’s party. “I’m driving.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Joe pulled down the block to Stark’s sister’s house. Well, technically Stark’s parents’ house. But they’d died a few years after Stark was sentenced, and they’d left it to her. He vaguely remembered the sister. She and the parents were permanent fixtures all through Stark’s trial. Seemed like a nice enough family. Supportive, but sad that their son had gone off the deep end.

  The house came into view. The ride had been quiet. Adam was staring at the phone, waiting for any word on Allison. They were taking her to the hospital, but it was precautionary. From what they’d heard, she had been tied up, fed, and generally ignored. No abuse was evident. She’d gotten out of there with barely a scratch.

  Now if only Brook could get out in the same condition.

  About a block from Stark’s, Adam got another call. “ER doctors have looked her over. She looks good,” he told Joe after disconnecting.

  “Good.”

  “So you want to tell me what the fuck happened?” Adam’s woman was okay, so now he couldn’t seem to keep his big mouth shut. ”You had one job—keep Brook away.” Adam yanked off his seatbelt and turned to Joe. “I should be with Allison at the hospital right now.”

  “Really, you want to talk about my failures and my job? What about your job? If you’d done your job, Stark would be locked up in county right now.” Joe tore the keys from the ignition. Anger wrapped around his spine, his fist clenching. One shot. He just needed one shot. Adam’s chin was begging for Joe’s fist to connect. If Adam’s mouth kept moving, Joe might not be able to control that fist.

  “If you got somewhere to be, go. Be with Allison. She probably needs you a hell of a lot more than I need your shit.”