Afterburn: A Kenzie Gilmore Thriller

by BIBA PEARCE

  He fell silent, studying her from across his cluttered desk. It had been like that ever since Kenzie could remember. Mountains of paperwork competed for space with used coffee cups, old newspapers, and an assortment of pens, pencils, and Post-it Notes. It was amazing he knew where anything was.

  “Clayton’s covering the story.”

  “But I covered the first two murders,” she argued. “It makes sense for me to do it. Our readers will expect continuity. And like I said, I know the victim’s husband. He’s a private guy, he’s not going to let Clayton in.”

  “But he’ll let you in?” Keith arched his eyebrows.

  “Yes, I think he will. My article kickstarted his career. He was an up-and-coming nobody when I met him. After the profile piece, he got that deal with Blue Note Records, and the rest is history.” She waved her hand around. “He owes me.”

  Keith pursed his lips. Nearly a full minute ticked by.

  “If, and I mean if, I give you this story, you have to promise you won’t make any more waves. The paper can’t cope with another lawsuit. I mean it, Kenzie. One more strike and you’re out.”

  She jumped out of the chair. “Thank you, Keith. You’re the best, you know that.”

  “Promise me, Kenzie.” His voice was stern.

  “I promise, Keith. No more waves.”

  Kenzie pulled over on a narrow muddy road flanked by an impenetrable wall of vegetation.

  This was where he lived?

  She cut the engine and climbed out of the car. After the cool air conditioning, the humidity hit her like a sauna. It was way worse than downtown Miami. She immediately broke into a sweat. It clung to her skin and made her shirt stick to her back. How did he stand it?

  She inhaled the pungent swamp air and looked around. Through a gap between the foliage and the cabin, she could see the water. Flat, blue, inviting. Yet she knew it was anything but. The Everglades were riddled with dangers. Alligators, snakes, and all manner of slithery things. She shuddered. She’d been out here twice in the last four months. This was the third time. Once for every body found.

  The cabin consisted of three huts joined together. A rusty sign out front said, “Legend Airboat Tours.” She frowned. Did the guy who’d found the body really give airboat tours? Her police source had said he was a loner, the type of guy who kept to himself.

  Reid Garrett. The name was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it.

  She looked for a buzzer but there wasn’t one, so she knocked on the door. The cell number she’d been given had remained unanswered, so she was taking a chance coming out here. Mid-afternoon with the rain coming, she thought he’d be home.

  There was no answer.

  She tried again, knocking harder this time.

  Still no response.

  Then she heard it. A thumping sound from the other side of the cabin. Someone was here. Maybe they were out back, which was why they hadn’t heard the door.

  She walked to the gap in the vegetation. Squeezing through, she crept around the side of the house. It was built on a wooden deck, elevating it above the soggy water line. The banging got louder.

  “Hello?” she called out, not wanting to take anyone by surprise.

  The banging stopped.

  “Out here,” called a male voice. There was an edge to it, like he was annoyed at being interrupted. Well, that couldn’t be helped. She had a job to do.

  The ground grew squelchy beneath her feet, so she hopped onto the deck and ducked under the railing. “I’m coming round,” she said, looking for the voice.

  Then she spotted him, waist deep in the water. Bronzed, shirtless, and holding a hammer above his head.

  She froze. “I—I’m sorry to disturb you.”

  A half-naked man was not what she’d been expecting. In her head, Reid Garrett was a paunchy, middle-aged dude in a dirty tank top. A swamper.

  “Can I help you?”

  She eyed the hammer, still poised in the air. Thor, Viking God of War, sprang to mind. Charging across the sky in his chariot, swinging his hammer.

  “I’m a reporter from the Miami Herald. I’d like to ask you about the woman you found in the Glades yesterday.”

  The hammer fell. A deafening blow that made her jump.

  She glared at him. “Would that be okay?”

  “I’m a bit busy now.”

  “I can see that, and I’m sorry to interrupt. I won’t take up much of your time.”

  He hammered in another nail. The sound reverberated around the swamp. He was wearing waders, but he’d rolled down the top to work on his tan. Sweat glistened on his body. She made a point of not looking at it.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “How you found her? Where you found her? What state she was in? That sort of thing.”

  There was a pause. Sighing, he put the hammer down and hauled himself over the railing. Water streamed off his waders, splashing the deck.

  She took a step backwards.

  He bent down and peeled them off. She took a sharp breath. Surely, he wasn’t going to strip in front of her, but he was wearing board shorts.

  “Give me a minute.” He strode past her into the house.

  She gazed out over the sea of grass, stretching for miles in all directions. It was a beautiful spot. Nothing but water, vegetation, and blue sky. It was peaceful too, now that Thor had stopped thundering. She could hear cicadas, beetles, and other creatures chattering about their business. A flock of birds flew low over the canal, their reflections shimmering in the still water.

  “I can see why you like it out here,” she said as he returned. She was relieved to see he’d put on a T-shirt. “It’s idyllic.”

  “What did you say your name was?”

  So much for small talk.

  “Kenzie Gilmore. Miami Herald.” She held out her hand.

  He didn’t shake it. His expression turned cold. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

  She frowned. “Why not? I thought—”

  “You thought wrong. I don’t talk to reporters.” He shepherded her into the house. She had to move, or he’d barrel into her. “I’d like you to leave now.”

  “Could you just tell me where you found her?” she asked, desperate for something, anything she could print.

  “The cypress swamp.”

  “Were you alone?” The words were coming fast now, tumbling out.

  “Yes.” He kept walking, driving her back toward the door.

  “What condition was she in?”

  He stopped. “Why? So you can publish the morbid details in tomorrow’s paper?”

  The hostility emanating off him was incredible. What was this guy’s problem? Well, she didn’t intimidate easily. “No, so our readers can understand what happened to her. Natalia was more than just a celebrity. She had a life, a husband, friends. She was a role model. Now that’s all gone.”

  He stared at her, his expression unreadable.

  She lifted her chin a notch. “Her fans deserve to know.”

  “She was mostly intact,” he said quietly. “Her left arm had been ripped off at the elbow, and there was a bite out of her thigh, but otherwise she was in one piece. Any longer and there wouldn't have been much left to identify.”

  Kenzie swallowed. “How long had she been in the water?”

  “It’s hard to say. I’d guess three or four days, but don’t quote me on that. The coroner will know more after the autopsy.”

  She glanced up. He sounded almost professional. That’s when she saw the picture hanging on the wall behind him. A framed photograph of a younger Reid Garrett in a uniform being handed a badge. “Are you a cop?”

  “Ex-cop, and I think it’s time you left, Ms. Gilmore.” He opened the front door.

  She hovered on the doorstep. What was an ex-cop doing out here? And why wasn’t he working anymore? He wasn’t old enough to retire. “When did you leave the for—”

  “Goodbye, Ms. Gilmore.”

  He shut the door in her face
.

  3

  Reid kept his head down as he walked into the Miami PD building.

  He hadn’t been back since he’d quit a year and a half ago and he sure as hell didn’t want to be here now, except he didn’t have a choice. He’d been summoned. Lieutenant Pérez wanted to speak with him in person.

  He stopped at the security desk, but instead of showing his ID card, he gave his name. He was an outsider now.

  The female officer on duty called up to the squad room. A moment later, she nodded. “You can go through, Mr. Garrett. It’s on the fourth floor, first door to your—”

  “I know where it is.”

  He took the elevator, feeling the familiar jerk as it took off. He’d ridden this elevator every day for nearly 10 years. He knew every bump, every grind, every nuance. It stopped and the doors wheezed open.

  “Well, I’ll be. If it isn’t Reid Garrett. You coming back, Detective?” asked a guy he used to work with.

  “No, just visiting.” He kept walking.

  “Good to see you, buddy.” Another officer fist-bumped him as he walked past.

  “Reid, what are you doing here?” Jared, a member of his old team, came up to him.

  “Lieutenant wants to see me.”

  His colleague slapped him on the back. “It’s good to see you, man.”

  He kept going, ignoring the overt stares and gasps of surprise in the squad room. After the cloud he’d left under, no one expected him to come back.

  He passed Jonny’s desk and nodded to Detective Ryan who was leaning against it, a clipboard in her hand. She shot him a bright smile.

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the prodigal son.”

  Ortega.

  He’d recognize that condescending son of a bitch’s voice anywhere.

  “'Fraid your job’s been taken,” he drawled.

  Reid itched to punch him in the face, but he kept walking.

  The door to the corner office opened and Pérez stood there, grinning. “Reid, come in”

  He escaped into the Lieutenant’s office, glad to see the blinds were down.

  They shook hands.

  “How long has it been?” Pérez asked. “A year?”

  Sixteen months.

  “Something like that.”

  “Thanks for coming in. Please, take a seat.” He gestured to two chairs around a low table. “So, how’ve you been? You look good.”

  “Been keeping busy,” he said.

  Pérez had aged in the last year and a half. His hair, once jet black, was now greying at the temples, and worry-lines were etched into his forehead.

  “Good. I heard you found Natalia Cruz.” He shook his head. “That can’t have been easy.”

  “No, but I knew it was only a matter of time. You know these psychos, Joe, they don’t stop. Once they get a taste for it, it only gets worse.”

  This wasn’t the first serial case he’d worked. Six or seven years ago, before Pérez was Lieutenant, they’d hunted down a twisted individual killing prostitutes in the Miami Bay area. An FBI profiler had been brought in to work with them, which is how he knew so much about the psychology behind it.

  Pérez grunted in agreement. “Listen, Reid, I’ll be straight with you. I’ve got my hands full with this gang war, and now the Chief is coming down hard on the department to find Natalia Cruz’s killer. We’re stretched thin. I’m setting up a task force and I’d like you to run it.”

  “Me?” Reid stared at him.

  “Come back,” Pérez said flatly. “You’ve had a year. Think of it as a sabbatical. We need you on this. There’s no one else qualified to run the team, and I don’t want to go outside the department.”

  “What about Ortega?” He gritted his teeth saying the name.

  “Ortega’s up to his eyeballs with the gang shootings. We’re gathering intel, raiding premises, arresting everybody we can find, and yet the feud continues. He doesn’t have the time to dedicate to this serial case.”

  Reid took a few deep breaths. “I don’t know, Joe. After what happened to Bianca…”

  “That wasn’t your fault. You tried to pull her out, she wouldn’t listen. What went down was out of your control.”

  “I should have followed up. I was in charge.” Guilt washed over him. “She died because of me.”

  Pérez frowned. “She died because Alberto Torres shot her when he discovered she was a cop. That was not your doing. It’s time you stopped beating yourself up about it.”

  “Did we ever find out who leaked the details of the op to the press?”

  “It could have been anyone,” Pérez said with a shrug. “Impossible to know. Besides, if Bianca had gotten out when you said, it never would have happened. She was always stubborn like that. Liked to do things her way.”

  Reid closed his eyes and saw her face smiling up at him. “I can do it, Reid. I can get Torres to trust me. It’s the only way we’re going to get the intel.”

  Fuck.

  “I need you, Reid. The department needs you.”

  He sighed. “I can’t, Lieutenant. I’m sorry. I’d like to help you out, but it’s been too long. I’m not the same person I was back then.”

  Pérez got up and walked around his desk. Opening a drawer, he took out Reid’s detective badge and set it down on the table. “It’s yours. All you have to do is take it.”

  Reid stared at it for a long time, then got to his feet.

  “I’m sorry, Joe.”

  “At least think about it,” Pérez called after him as he walked out the door.

  Reid got back home to find Kenzie Gilmore waiting on his doorstep. She jumped to her feet as he pulled up.

  “What are you doing here?” he snapped, getting out of the car.

  “We need to talk.”

  “I’ve got nothing to say to you.” He walked past her and inserted his key into the lock.

  “I think you’ll want to hear me out.”

  He frowned. “What makes you think that?”

  She hesitated. “I know you went to see Lieutenant Pérez today. I know he wants you back on the case.”

  He swung around. “How do you know that?” He’d left the department less than 40 minutes ago.

  “I know a guy there, we trained together at the academy?”

  “The academy?” What was she talking about? Then he got it. “You trained to be a cop?”

  “Is that so surprising?”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Can I come in? There are some things I need to say. About what happened…before.”

  He pushed open the door. “You figured it out then?”

  “Yeah, I know who you are. I should have realized yesterday, but I was a bit slow off the mark. Sorry about that.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a messy bun. Perspiration glistened on her forehead and her cheeks were flushed. She must have been waiting outside for a while.

  “At least give me a chance to explain.”

  He met her gaze. Clear, direct, and very blue.

  “Okay, fine.” He stood back to let her enter.

  She shot him a satisfied smile as she snuck past him into the cabin. It was stifling, and he immediately opened the sliding doors to let in some air.

  “You could do with AC in here,” she said as he turned around and gestured for her to take a seat.

  “Tell me about it.”

  He waited until she sat down on one of the wicker armchairs before doing the same. “Okay, Ms. Gilmore, let’s hear it.”

  “Well, first I wanted to apologize for what happened after I wrote the article. I never in a million years thought anyone would get hurt, let alone killed.”

  The article needed no explanation. They both knew exactly what she was referring to.

  Reid clenched his jaw. “What did you expect would happen? I had an undercover agent embedded within the cartel and you published an article telling the whole of Miami about it. It didn't take them long to figure out who the snitch was. Bia
nca didn’t stand a chance.”

  “I didn’t know she was still undercover,” Kenzie explained. “My source told me she’d been extracted.”

  He scowled at her. “Who is your source?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Goddamnit! Whoever he is fed you false information. The entire op went to shit because of him. Lopez got away, and I lost a valued colleague. I’d think twice about using him again.”

  Valued… cherished… loved.

  He should have insisted she get out. What was she thinking, taking matters into her own hands? But that was Bianca. Headstrong, stubborn, gutsy. That’s what he’d loved about her. And it still hurt.

  He took a steadying breath.

  “He was right about you, though. Wasn’t he?” Kenzie said. “Pérez did ask you to come back and lead the task force.”

  “What of it?”

  “Are you going to do it?”

  “No. I’m not a cop anymore.”

  There was a pause.

  “You know, I wanted to be a cop more than anything. My father was a detective, back in the day. I grew up wanting to be just like him.”

  He watched the emotion flicker across her face. “Then I broke my leg during a training exercise and my dream went up in smoke.”

  “Now you’re a reporter.”

  She scoffed. “An investigative reporter. It was the closest I could get to being a cop.”

  He gave her a hard look. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because you’ve got the opportunity to do what I always dreamed of doing, and you’re turning it down. I don’t get it.”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “Because of the Lopez case? Because you lost a colleague?”

  “She was more than a colleague.”

  “Ah, I see.” Kenzie stared at him for a long moment. “And what do you think she’d say? Bianca, do you think she’d want you to quit? To just walk away?”

  Reid scowled. “Why do you care so much?”

  “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” She looked away, towards the deck. “Anyway, I just wanted to clear the air. I would never have published anything that put someone’s life in danger. I wanted you to know that.”

  Yeah right. “Even if it sells papers?”