Nocturne 040 – Scions 02 - Patrice Michelle - Insurrection (10 page)

She shook her head. “I’m not sure yet. I’m going to talk to my boss and see how he wants to proceed.”

Landon stopped walking and grabbed her arm, halting her progress.

“Kaitlyn. The Garotters are dangerous. I don’t want you to get involved. You heard what was said in there. Do you really think that truck driver will survive the ‘accident’ they plan? They won’t hesitate to take you out.”

She deliberately stared at his hand on her arm until he removed it. “The only way the Garotters will be stopped is if they are caught committing the crime. We just need to set up an operation to catch them in the act.”

Landon’s mouth formed a thin line. “I don’t like it. You can’t know for sure how deep this goes. You heard that Garotter. They’ve got people on the inside with the police, or at the very least, a way to control the situation.”

She gave him an assured smile. “That’s why the only person who’s going to know is the one person who put me on this case. My boss. He’ll handpick the team and only use people he can trust.”

When she started to walk away, Landon’s next comment halted her steps. “Kaitlyn, I’m sorry.”

She faced him, her gaze narrowed. “Are you going to tell me why you lied to me?”

He shrugged. “All I saw was sparkles. That’s why I asked what you had seen. I didn’t see the detailed handprints you described to me in your car earlier today.”

“The point is you saw something, yet you didn’t say anything. Thanks for the support.” She turned and walked away.

“About what happened…” Landon called after her.

Kaitlyn kept moving straight ahead. “Like you said, it was a mistake.”

Chapter 5
T he next morning on her way to the office, Kaitlyn stopped her car while a tractor-trailer in front of her backed up into a building. Her thoughts drifted to the meaning of the dream she’d had the night before. She’d dreamed she was standing in her old childhood bedroom as it used to be—pink walls, cloud-and-moon ceiling and all—getting ready for bed.

She’d taken off her necklace and set it on the dresser. As she started to walk away, she heard the chain slide off the slick polished surface. Turning back, she bent to retrieve the chain from the soft carpet, but the necklace and charm were gone.

Then a low growl erupted behind her, causing her skin to prickle as she slowly turned around.

A lone wolf stood there staring at her, his hackles raised. Brown with silver markings, he looked just like the wolf her father had had an artist paint on her bedroom wall near the door. But when she’d turned to stare at the rendition, only an empty place remained among the tall green grass. The real wolf gave a low, warning growl once more. He was enormous. Twice the size of the painting.

Heart racing, her eyes locked with his dark ones.

“Easy, big guy,” she’d whispered and slowly eased toward the door. His growl grew deeper and his lips curled back, revealing sharp white teeth.

She froze, stopping her retreat. The wolf settled for a second, then glanced toward the doorway, his second growl a deep, primal rumble. A sound in the hallway drew her attention. Someone was coming down the hall—a tall shadow moving at a rapid rate.

She gasped and took a step away from the door at the same time the wolf leaped into the air.

The animal changed position as he arced across the room. He landed in the doorway with his back to her…but he was on his hind legs, upright like a human.

Kaitlyn woke with a cry of surprise rushing past her lips. Had the dream been caused by recent events? She touched the delicate chain around her neck and felt the wolf charm brush against her breast inside her shirt. A horn honked, drawing Kaitlyn out of her reverie. Tucking the thoughts about her dream’s meaning to the back of her mind, she pushed the gas pedal.

When Kaitlyn was almost to the office, she considered the conversation she was going to have to have with her boss, Ronald Sparks, and wondered how he’d take it. Ronald hadn’t mentioned a possible connection to the police department. After discovering Remy had gone on the wrong side of the law, and then Landon had lied to her, yet she’d still kissed the guy—damn his alluring smell—she really had a reason to question her judgment of people, especially men. There was one person she could trust to give her an honest answer about her boss’s character before their meeting about what she’d learned last night. Picking up her cell, she called her father’s old partner, Hank Freely. They’d gone through police academy together. Hank used to visit from time to time to check on her mom and her. Since he’d retired, he’d sold his house in the city and moved to his mountain cabin and his visits had ceased.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Hank. It’s Kaitlyn McKinney. How’s retired life?”

He laughed. “Can’t complain. I’ve taken up fly-fishing. It’s a helluva lot harder than it looks. How about you and your mom. Is she doing well?”

Her heart jerked. “Mom’s hanging in there. She was admitted to the hospital a couple months ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hank said, his tone turning sad. “I’ve been bad about keeping in touch. How are you doing?”

“I got promoted to detective,” Kaitlyn said, trying to lift her suddenly depressed spirits.

“That’s my girl! Your dad would be proud.”

Kaitlyn swallowed the lump in her throat. She wished her dad was here to ask this question, but Hank would be a non-biased resource. “I hope you’re right.”

“I know so. Why do I get the feeling this call was more than just a reason to shoot the breeze with an old man? What can I do for ya?”

She eyed the stack of stopped cars in front of her as they waited for the light to turn green. When they began to move, she pressed on the gas pedal. “I need an opinion from someone I can trust.”

Hank’s lighthearted tone completely vanished. “Shoot, Kaitie.”

“What can you tell me about Ronald Sparks? I know you and Dad went to the academy with Ron, but I just wanted your opinion on his character.”

Hank cleared his throat. “Ron’s a straight shooter. Always has been. I’d stand beside him any day.”

Hank’s opinion confirmed her own, which made her feel a lot better discussing the direction of her case—where a cop might be involved or at the very least compromised—with her boss when she got to work.

“Thanks so much, Hank. You’ve really helped. Maybe I’ll come up for a visit to your cabin soon. It has been a while since I’ve seen it.”

He chuckled. “You do that. I don’t get many visitors. By the way, now that I’ve moved here, I have a lot less storage space. I have some of your dad’s stuff. When you come, can you take it home with you? I’m sure your mom would like to put it with the rest of your dad’s things.”

“Will do, and thanks, Hank.”

“Take care, Kaitie.”

Once she got to work, Kaitlyn spent the rest of the morning typing up an official report of her findings and the indirect connections she’d discovered for her boss. She knew she wouldn’t be able to “officially”

include the information she’d learned last night, but they could say they had a tip from an anonymous source and went to investigate another potential hijacking. Catching the Garotters in the act was the next step. The smell of pizza wafting through the office overpowered the morning coffee aroma, making her stomach growl. Ignoring it, she hunched closer to her keyboard and typed faster, promising herself she’d grab something to eat as soon as she finished the report.

Ron had been in meetings all morning, so she hadn’t been able to speak to him yet about the case. Her desk phone rang and she glanced at the caller I.D. to see who was calling.

Lab.

She’d almost forgotten about the trace “ash” from the park. Picking up her phone, she said, “Tell me you got something, Ryan.”

“Good afternoon to you, too,” he said in a dry tone.

Kaitlyn blew out a breath of patience. She was so tightly wound, her shoulders and upper back ached. “Good afternoon, Ryan. Tell me you’ve got something.”

He chuckled. “Gotta love a woman who gets right to the point. If only you’d agree to go out with me, I think we’d be well matched…”

She pictured Ryan’s handsome open face, his broad smile, his sweet Southern accent. He definitely had a certain charm about him, but she had a rule about getting involved with her coworkers. So what does that make Landon? she asked herself. A sexy, melt-every-bone-in-my-body, mistake, even if he hadn’t worked with the NYPD in three years.

“Ryan, you know my rule—”

“Rules are like piecrust, darlin’. They’re made to be broken.”

Her lips quirked. “Quit flirting. Were you able to make heads or tails of that ash I gave you?”

“You’re breaking my heart.” Sobering, he continued, “Not really. The rain broke it down a good bit. I don’t know what you were thinking handing me a hair clip. This evidence is as tainted as they come. I was able to decipher silver and DNA traces for male, female—presumably yours—

and…” he paused. “Do you have a dog?”

“Why?”

“I also found DNA in this trace that resembles canine structure.”

Kaitlyn’s heart stuttered. “You did?”

“This is just conjecture, not definitive evidence. You never did say, do you have a dog?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Didn’t you say you found this in a pile of burned ashes? It could’ve been a dog someone burned. The male DNA might’ve come from your boyfriend handling your clip.”

Kaitlyn snorted. “Nice try, Ryan. I’m not divulging any juicy tidbits about my personal life.”

“You can’t blame a guy for trying.” he said, completely unapologetic.

“Thanks for checking out the trace for me.”

“Next time I’m going to be smart and ask for a date first, then I’ll agree to undocumented evidence analysis.”

“And now I’ve been forewarned.” As soon as she hung up her phone, it immediately rang. Her boss was calling. She picked up the phone. “Hi, Ron.”

“I’ve got a free minute. Come to my office.”

Her stomach tensing slightly with excitement, Kaitlyn saved the computer file she was working on and locked her terminal before she picked up the case file folder and headed down the hall to her boss’s office.

Rapping on the door jamb, she walked inside Ron’s office. As she seated herself in the chair in front of his desk, he lifted his reading glasses up on his balding head and lowered the file folder he’d been reading.

“I’m glad you asked to see me. I was going to talk to you today about the case I assigned you.”

“Oh?” Kaitlyn tried to sound as casual as she could, but her gut knotted. There was something in his tone. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like what Ron was about to say.

Lowering his glasses to the desk in front of him, Ron cleared his throat.

“I’m reassigning you to another case that has a higher priority.”

Kaitlyn’s stomach pitched. “What? I thought this case was a high priority.”

“There are other cases that need our attention. We’re short-staffed as it is.” He picked up the neat paperwork in front of him and stacked it neatly once more. The man was avoiding her gaze. That wasn’t a good thing. What happened to that spine of steel he seemed to have? Those high career aspirations?

“Did someone get to you? Were you threatened?” she tensed and sat forward in her chair.

His gaze jerked to hers and his brown gaze narrowed. “No one threatened me, and I don’t appreciate the insinuation that I could be intimidated.”

She slid her report onto the desk in front of him along with a handwritten note at the top of the shipment itinerary she’d copied last night. “But we could have a solid case if we could just catch them in the act.”

Ron quickly skimmed her writeup and the note. When he turned and slid the papers into his shredder, hitting the on button, she stared in shock. He closed the thick folder that had been sitting on the desk in front of him and handed it across the desk toward her. “We wouldn’t have a solid case, McKinney. Here’s your new assignment.”

As the last of her report disappeared into the waste bin, chewed to criss-cross shreds, pressure weighted heavily on Kaitlyn’s chest. The itinerary was her only copy. Everything else in her typewritten report was just the research she’d collected. She tensed her jaw and her throat burned with the need to scream her frustration at Ron. Apparently Remy had held up his end of the bargain with the Tacomi employee—he’d taken care of the police.

“But all we have to do is catch them in the act—”

“Let it go, McKinney.” Ron gave her a direct stare. “You’ve been reassigned. You’ll have a partner for this case, Kent Sloan. If you don’t like it, go back to your old job. Am I clear?”

She set her lips in a firm line and stood, taking the folder he held out.

“Crystal.”

As she turned to walk out of his office, her spine stiff and her ego bruised, Ron said in a softer voice, “We can’t win them all, Kaitlyn.”

She paused in his doorway and glanced over her shoulder. “Hank was so wrong about you.”

Without another word, she turned away and headed down the hall toward her desk, the overstuffed manila folder clutched in her hand. When she got back to her desk, she sat there for several minutes, numb and disillusioned.

General conversation buzzed around her. Three detectives were standing around the coffeepot, discussing last night’s game. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. But something was very wrong. Her boss had apparently been intimidated into inaction. Now what in the hell was she supposed to do?

The title of detective wasn’t the be-all and end-all to Kaitlyn. It just gave her the ability to work and solve cases. That was the most important thing to her, not some badge. This was her first case, and it felt like a failure to her to be reassigned.

Her stomach growled again, reminding her she needed to eat. As her breathing came in rampant pants over her frustrating situation, she realized she needed to get some fresh air, too.