by G. K. Parks
Mick met Iain at Spark one night while Hart was enjoying a few drinks, and the two got to talking. On the surface, they were quite different, but they were both unhappy with their lives. Of course, misery loves company. They convinced Emilio he was nothing more than Axel’s lapdog, and the three started plotting and planning.
Mick had no reason to wage war against Kincaid, but Iain and Emilio did. Iain had lost bets and races to Axel, and he’d been disgraced in front of their peers. To Axel, it was all a game, but to Iain, it was his life, his dignity, and his livelihood. Iain threatened to ruin Axel even before Kristen broke up with him. She couldn’t take the betting and the losing. She called Iain a degenerate gambler and swore she’d never speak to him again. When they broke up, that sealed Iain’s resolve to follow through with the plan. Kincaid knew Iain held a grudge but had no idea how far he was willing to take it until the McLaren was stolen.
According to Emilio, Mick was the violent one. He had the gun. He killed Juan and Becca and planted evidence in Axel’s office. Iain backed the story, but it was anyone’s guess what really happened. All the DA cared about was making a case, and we definitely had plenty of evidence against the three of them.
The conference room door opened, and Axel and his attorney stepped out. “What’s going to happen to Kincaid?” I asked. Despite what the evidence showed, Axel was far from clean, but he wasn’t our killer.
“You haven’t heard?” Brad asked.
“No.”
“The mayor called. He’s getting kicked. He’ll probably get a medal for assisting the police in the investigation. Apparently, he helped us apprehend Iain Harrington.”
“Helped? Axel was going to shoot him. He had a gun. What about that?”
“It’s untraceable. Axel says he found it inside the warehouse and picked it up to defend himself. He was trying to make a citizen’s arrest when you busted in. But he was too afraid to lower the weapon because he feared Harrington would run him over. That’s why he refused to comply with your instructions.”
“He’s full of shit.”
“Yep.”
“He can’t get away with this.”
Brad blew out a breath. “You and I know he’s behind a lot of shady things. Vice knows it. Burglary knows it. Kincaid’s crossed the line before. It’s just a matter of time before he does it again, and when he does, we’ll get him.”
“Did I hear my name?” Axel sauntered over to my desk. His brow furrowed. “Are you okay, Detective?”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
Kincaid frowned. “I hope you feel better. I just wanted to thank you for saving my life. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” His eyes held an amused glint, and he smirked. “I’ll be seeing you again soon. Tell the DEA they owe me.”
Fennel bristled but did his best not to outwardly react. Something about Kincaid’s words and the look in his eyes made my blood run cold. I didn’t breathe again until he left the room.
“Let’s get out of here,” Brad said. “Where are you staying tonight? Your parents’ place?”
“God no. My mom would have a conniption.”
“The docs said you might have a concussion. You can’t stay by yourself, and Emma’s working graveyard.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He rolled his eyes. “Come on. You can stay at my place.”
We were quiet for most of the drive. We were both tired, and even though we put the killer behind bars, our case, the investigation into Axel Kincaid, remained unresolved. Whatever was going on had to do with Hart and the cartel.
“Do you think Kincaid tipped the DEA?” Brad asked. “It seems out of character.”
“He wouldn’t tip them if he had a choice. They must have something on him and offered a deal in exchange for his help. We need to question Hart. He connects to everything – the thefts, the murders, the shipping containers.”
Fennel tossed me his phone, and I left a message for Captain Grayson. Tomorrow morning, I would confront Hart. But tonight, I just wanted my life back.
“I guess I should start apartment hunting.”
“Good call,” Brad quipped. He parked the car and led the way upstairs. I hesitated just outside the door, and Brad, as usual, read my mind. “It won’t be like the last time you were here.”
“Good. I don’t think my body can handle dragging you into the bathroom and dumping you in the shower again.”
“Trust me. The last thing I want is to wake up under the freezing cold spray. That was just one bad night. It won’t happen again.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, Liv, I do. I don’t have a problem with alcohol. I had one bad night. It wasn’t about the booze. I just needed everything to stop, and that’s how I got there.” He pushed open the door and stepped inside. “Are you coming in, or are we camping out in the hallway?”
“You know if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here. I’m always here. You got that?”
He smiled. “Yep. That’s why I had to swoop in and save your ass today.”
“Save my ass? Ha.” I followed him inside and closed the door.
Despite my protests, he made up his bed for me and took the couch. When I woke the next morning, I felt a million times worse than I did the night before. After a detour to Emma’s so I could shower and change, followed by a trip to my parents’ so I could get my car out of the garage, we met at the precinct.
A cup of coffee waited on my desk. Just as we were getting underway, the phone rang. I picked it up, surprised to hear ADA Winters’ voice.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” Winters said. “You put a killer behind bars. Well, two, actually.”
“What do you mean two?”
“I just heard back from the investigator I hired. Crane’s been identified. He’ll be picked up later today. You saved my case.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Sure, you did. Let me take you out to celebrate.”
“First, you have to win in court, and then we’ll talk about it.” I hung up, catching the sly look on Brad’s face.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“The DA’s office.” I glared at him. “Don’t say it.”
“Boyfriend,” he muttered, and I threw a balled up piece of paper at him.
“DeMarco, you ready?” Grayson asked, jerking his chin toward the conference room. “He’s waiting.”
Despite our suspicions, the DEA instructed us to leave Hart alone, but I wasn’t great at listening. Luckily, the captain was on the same page. Hart didn’t know he was a suspect, and we wanted to keep it that way. He was a victim and potential witness. This was just a courtesy visit. A follow-up to make sure we had our facts straight about what was stolen and why Mick Rutherford might have wanted to ruin his boss.
“Thanks for coming in, Mr. Hart,” I said, stepping into the room.
Hart narrowed his eyes. “You work at Spark.”
“Undercover.” I took a seat across from him. “We just have a few quick questions.”
“Whatever I can do to help.”
“Do you know of any reason why Rutherford might have targeted you?”
“He was unhappy with his job. Has been for a while. I’m the scapegoat. The easy one to blame for his problems.”
“What about Iain Harrington and Emilio Rivers?”
“The names don’t sound familiar.”
“They also frequented Spark,” I volunteered helpfully. “Axel Kincaid seems to be a common denominator. Obviously, the two of you know one another.” I waited for him to fill in the silence even though I hadn’t asked a question.
Hart sipped some water and looked around the room. So I continued to wait him out. He’d crack. Most of them did. I glanced at the clock on the wall, the second hand audible in the silence. The only thing better would have been a leaky faucet.
“It’s Axel. You know him. There’s not much to say. His club attracts all kinds. Apparently, even thieves and killers,�
� Hart said.
“And drug dealers,” I mused, “or so I hear. Axel has a reputation. He can get whatever you want, whenever you want it. I would think being in the import/export business, that’s a quality you’d admire.” I flipped open a folder and leaned back. The first few pages related to Mick Rutherford, and the rest were blank. But Hart didn’t need to know that. “Did you and Mr. Kincaid ever do business together?”
Hart stared at the folder, believing the answer was in black and white. “We have, on occasion.”
I nodded. “Aside from your car, any other property you’d like to report stolen? Keep in mind, we have the men responsible in custody, and they’ve been chatting up a storm.”
“Lies, I’m sure.”
“Probably, except CSU is very thorough. And I’m sure the hotel notified you that your room safe was breached. Although, I find it odd that a man with a penthouse apartment in town would bother with a room reservation.”
Hart stood. “I think we’re done here.”
“I’m just confused about one final thing. It’ll only take a second.”
Hart turned around. “What is it?”
“The fifteen bricks of cocaine we found in the stolen vehicles that were hidden inside your freight containers, did you want to claim those as your property?”
He paled. “They’re not mine. According to what I’ve been told, one of Axel’s cars was also stolen from the hotel. Maybe the drugs are his.”
“Yeah, maybe. And maybe that’s why Kincaid was supposed to meet you inside the hotel a few hours before your car was stolen. But you canceled at the last minute. Something spooked you. Was it the phone call you received from Rutherford telling you you’d been compromised? Is that why you delayed your arrival?”
“We’re done. If you have any other questions, contact my attorney.”
Hart didn’t make it more than a few feet before the DEA agents arrested him in the middle of our bullpen. I nodded at them. We’d bring Axel in for another round, and with everyone involved in custody, we’d finally find out what the hell was going on. It was about time.
Twenty-eight
“You’re running drugs out of Spark,” I said. “You’re lucky we found you before your bosses did.”
Hart glared at me. He might not be a murderer, but he was a supplier who could turn over evidence on the cartels or rot away in prison, wondering when he’d be shanked. The choice was up to him.
Mick Rutherford gave us names and dates, enough to bury Hart, as did Axel. Hart was using Axel and the club to move the cartel’s product. In exchange for payment, Hart shipped back exotic cars brimming with cash. It’s why Mick thought it best to steal some cars, fill them with product and change the shipping location to a European port instead of South America. He wanted the cartels to kill Hart, believing their import/export man had ripped them off. Then the bodyguard would cash out, buy a nice villa, and become the head honcho. It was a great plan, except the DEA intercepted the shipments, traced the cars back to Spark, and flipped Kincaid.
The DEA knew exactly what Axel was involved with, and as a parting gift, one of the agents dropped the folder on my desk. Unfortunately, it was meaningless. Axel’s indiscretions had been negotiated away. The past forgiven. We couldn’t touch him. He was in the clear for cooperating.
“Were we right?” Brad asked, dropping into his chair. It had been another long day. “The underground casino? The stolen cars? The drugs? The girls?”
“Drugs and gambling, yes. Girls, it’s not here. And drugs we’re blaming solely on Hart, so the only thing Axel’s guilty of is illegal gambling. And we’re looking the other way.” I handed Brad the redacted folder. “Becca would have been able to tell us what was going on inside.”
“How’d she know what was in the cars?” Brad asked. “Unless she was one of Kincaid’s girls.”
“Or she’d been with Hart or Mick and one of them told her.”
“Do you think either would be that stupid?”
“Mick killed her. He must have told her his plan. He was proud of it. He wanted people to know.”
“Like Juan?”
I shrugged. “Becca must have told him I was a cop since he’s the one who tipped Axel. Everything Mick did was intended to thwart our investigation or keep us focused on Kincaid and Spark.”
“Like placing the gun inside the desk drawer.”
“Yeah, but Mick underestimated us.”
“They always do.” Brad straightened up his desk and checked the time. “I’m going home to change before I go to your parents’ house for dinner. Cover for me if I’m a few minutes late.”
“Who’s going to cover for me if I’m late?” I asked.
“Emma.”
“Shit. I never told her I was going to family dinner. She’s going to kill me.”
“Use the bump on your head as an excuse.” He brushed against me. “I’ll see you in a few.”
After finishing the paperwork, I powered down my computer and left the precinct. My car was parked in the back, but a familiar burnt orange sat a few spaces away.
“I told you you had it wrong.” Axel leaned against the wall. “My friends and employees are not murderers. I believe you owe me an apology.”
“I’m not so sure. If you weren’t guilty of something, you never would have cooperated with the DEA to bring down Hart.”
“Agree to disagree.” He eased away from the wall. “I’m not a bad guy, Liv. But people do bad things. They want what they want, and they’ll find some way of getting it. You and I do what we do in order to keep them from acting in reckless and dangerous ways and endangering others. We’re the same, you and I. We put on masks and pretend to be something we’re not in order to protect people. To protect society at large. It’s time you realize that.”
I snorted. “There’s a line, Axel. And you’ve crossed it more than once. The next time you do, I will stop you. The DEA and the mayor won’t be around to save you again.”
“Then come at me, Detective. I look forward to it.” He smiled. “And if you or your partner ever want to stop by for a drink, I’ll make sure Rick knows to let you in. After all, I’m nothing but a friend to law enforcement. Although, your little undercover operation has left me short a waitress again, so I can’t guarantee what the service will be like.” He climbed into his car and drove away.
That wouldn’t be the last time I tangled with Axel Kincaid, but I had other things to think about now, like enjoying a home-cooked meal with the people I love. I was lucky, despite how difficult the week had been. And I’d never forget it.
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Operation Stakeout: A witness to a murder has gone missing. Duncan Crane vanished without a trace. He left his bank account, his credit cards, and his phone behind. But there’s no body, no blood, and no signs of a break-in or struggle. His disappearance could be foul play. After all, Crane witnessed a gangster kill a man in cold blood outside a strip joint, but without a crime scene, the police department isn’t willing to open an investigation.
After some cajoling, ADA Logan Winters convinces Detective Liv DeMarco to join him on a stakeout. He believes the witness is hiding out at a motel a few hours away. But it’s out of their jurisdiction, and without a positive ID, the locals aren’t willing to help. To put one killer away, Liv and Logan have to find Crane alive, but they aren’t the only ones determined to locate the eyewitness…
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Unforeseen Danger: A murder-suicide is about to become the biggest case of Detective Liv DeMarco’s career…
When Liv follows a suspicious man onto the roof of an apartment building, she never expects to become embroiled in a case of deception, intrigue, and internatio
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To find the answers, Liv will have to start at the beginning. But identifying the suicide victim proves more complicated than she would have thought. His papers and identification are forgeries. And the woman he killed, it turns out, she doesn’t exist, at least not on paper. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the bodies go missing from the morgue. Someone much higher up the food chain is pulling strings to make this case unsolvable, but Liv and her partner are determined to get to the truth. This case may make or break Liv’s career, but that’s assuming she survives the unforeseen danger.
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Letter from the Author
I just want to take a moment and thank everyone who supported me to make this book possible and the wonderful readers I’ve met along the way. I never would have become a writer without family, friends, and amazing teachers who have supported me along the way. Thank you for your constant encouragement, patience, and love. I couldn’t do this without you. This has been an amazing journey thus far. I’m so lucky for all my readers who have become friends over the years and those readers who have stuck with me from my first book to my last, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Lastly, and possibly most importantly, I want to thank you, dear reader, for spending several hours getting to know Liv and for taking a chance on me. I hope you enjoyed this story. Without you, I wouldn’t have such an incredible career. Thank you for making my dreams come true. If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review so more readers will take a chance on my books.