A Hope City Duet

by Kris Michaels

  "Hey, you must be Kallie, his new partner. I'm Brody, his younger brother."

  "The J-DET sergeant."

  He walked over and hugged his mom. "That's right," he responded, but his eyes were on his brother. "How are you doing, dude?" He took Brock's good hand and leaned down to give his brother a hug.

  "I'm fine. Shouldn't you be at work?" Brock asked as Brody moved away and stood.

  Brody shoved his hands into the leather jacket he wore. He was probably as tall as Brock, but he was thicker through the chest. His hair was the same color but longer and not cut the same. The scruff Brody wore, the tattered jeans, the old biker boots, the heavy-metal band t-shirt and worn leather jacket, coupled with the chain that ran to his wallet, sold his bad-ass vibe, but it was the man's eyes that told Kallie Brody was one tough customer. "Nah, seems brothers getting shot in the line of duty get you a pass at work for a while."

  "It was just a .22." Both Kallie and Brock spoke at the same time. Brock's eyes met hers and they laughed. He elevated his good arm, and she gladly slid across the small space to take his hand.

  "Oh!" Hannah's small gasp diverted her attention from Brock.

  His mother's hands clasped over her heart. "You have a girlfriend!" The smile on her face as her gaze shifted from Brock to her was endearing, if a little scary.

  "Mom, please, God, don't embarrass me." Brock yawned again. The pain killers were trying their best to pull him under.

  Brody snorted. "As if." Hannah slapped Brody on the arm. "Hey! It's the God's honest truth, Kallie, she has no boundaries. None."

  "Truth." Brock squeezed her hand. "It's new, Mom, don't put any pressure on us, okay?" He closed his eyes but kept her hand in his.

  Hannah winked at her and held up a finger pressing it against her lips. She cleared her throat, "No pressure, honey. I can call Clarissa over at the Grand Hall and see what she has open for next June. I love June weddings."

  Brock's eyes popped open. He struggled to sit up.

  "No, Brock, I was joking. Seriously, stop trying to get up from that bed." Hannah sidled up on the bed sitting by his hip. "I'm just happy for you." She stroked his cheek. "All any mother wants is for her children to be happy."

  The door opened and a swarm of medical personnel entered. "Detective King, we're ready for you, now." The transfer from his hospital bed to the gurney was quick and efficient. She managed to squeeze his hand before he was wheeled down the long corridor.

  Over the course of the next two hours, Kallie met every member of the King family, except the Commissioner. Brock’s sisters were mirror images of their mother. Bekki held court. Her vivacious energy affected anyone nearby. Her older sister, Brianna, was content to let Bekki shine. Blay, the youngest brother, was on duty, so it seemed his entire fire station made the trek to the hospital with him. Hannah's friend, Sharon McBride, who she learned was Sean's mom, arrived along with her husband, Colm. Sean ducked in for a short time but was called away. The small waiting room was filled to bursting. She was definitely the odd duck out even though Hannah took great joy in introducing her as Brock's girlfriend. She wondered if Brock would even remember outing them to his mom.

  During one of Bekki’s particularly animated stories, she slid from the room and strolled to the end of the hallway only to hear a familiar voice.

  "We are a lot to take in, aren't we?" Brody leaned against the wall next to the vending machines.

  "It's good to have a support system." Her mind flitted back to when she was in the hospital in Houston. She’d never had one.

  "True, although the nurses are threatening to call the riot squad if anyone else shows up."

  Kallie chuckled at his comment and leaned back against the wall, too.

  “Tell me you guys have put a pin in this case."

  Kallie nodded. "Yeah, Lieutenant Davidson is on it. I'm not sure what is happening right now, although I do know we have Masters on video killing Treyson."

  Brody reached in his pocket and produced a crumpled five-dollar bill. He pointed at the soda machine. He inserted the money and hit a button dispensing a large plastic bottle. "Want one?"

  "God, yes. I need the sugar." He handed the one in his hand to her and hit the button again.

  "You want it for the sugar? I’m all about the caffeine.”

  “That too,” she agreed.

  “Who the fuck is this guy, Masters? How does he fit?"

  "That's just it. He doesn't fit. He wasn't even a blip on our map." She took a long drink of the soda and sighed. She glanced at her watch. Damn, four hours since they loaded into the ambulance. What the fuck was happening? She glanced at her phone again. There hadn't been a message from Davidson, Bettis, or Hansen, in over three hours. Her phone vibrated and she snapped it up. Damn it. Just Rich and his hatred. She pocketed her phone and sighed. Something was brewing. She could feel it.

  "He was a lawyer?"

  "Yeah, from what I've found on his company's web page, he was a founding partner at Langley, Shaw and Masters. We had brief contact with him when we questioned Miriam Treyson. He was a blustering blowhard, but she sat on him." She shook her head and stared at the floor trying to remember every detail of their interaction with the man. There was nothing of note. Nothing.

  "Was he a family lawyer? I'm sorry, I know it isn't my case, I'm just..." Brody blew a lungful of air and let the comment hang.

  "It's okay, and honestly, I dunno." She shrugged. "And no one has messaged me in a hot minute. I'm just as frustrated as you."

  "Perhaps I can help with that." A deep voice carried from down the hall. Brody straightened off the wall, strode the short distance between them, and hugged the man who'd spoken. Kallie stood up and watched the exchange. A few mumbled words passed between them before the men separated. "Detective Redman?"

  Oh, this was the Commissioner. Brock and Brody's father. The man extended his hand. "I'm Chauncy King."

  She took the hand offered. "Sir." She nodded.

  "Is there someplace we can… oh, here." The Commissioner pointed to a small room across the hall. Both she and Brody stepped into what looked like a doctor's lounge and the Commissioner shut the door behind them. In the small space, the King men seemed to fill the room.

  "How is he?" The Commissioner's voice reminded her of Brock's.

  Brody answered, "Still in surgery. The medical team said there was a trauma that put his case on a slight hold. They started about thirty minutes ago." Brody flipped a plastic chair away from the table and slid it toward her. He did the same for his father and then dropped into one himself. "What's up, Pop?"

  "A lot of information has come to light since we got a warrant and started following not only Masters' financials, but Samuel Treyson's."

  Kallie leaned forward. "What have you found?"

  "Unexplained deposits from the same shell company to both men's bank accounts. Random dates and times, but the deposits occurred on the same day and within minutes in both accounts."

  "How much money are we talking?"

  "Millions." The Commissioner took his son's soda and drank half.

  "I thought you were supposed to be off sugar and caffeine."

  The man winked at his son. "As far as your mother knows, I am."

  Kallie shook her head. Two and two were not equaling four in this situation. "Wait, Treyson is rich..."

  "No, he wasn't. Seems the heir apparent had run through his trust fund and even though he was functioning as the head of Treyson Enterprises, his father held the purse strings. Every time he needed money, he had to go to daddy. We can see deposits scattered erratically, usually before a big expenditure."

  Kallie nodded. "That fits Sebastian's hallmark. He's a control freak. If he had a way to control his son, he'd use it."

  Brody nodded and turned to his father. "So, what's the game here? A grudge? How does Masters just show up and kill Samuel Treyson?"

  The Commissioner handed Brody his soda back and unbuttoned his suit jacket, leaning forward. "I called in a favor." He
glanced at Kallie before he looked at Brock. "Guardian was able to trace the shell company to an umbrella organization that has a whisper of ties to the Fuentes Cartel. They can't confirm it… yet."

  "Drugs?" Brody ran his hand through his hair and cussed under his breath.

  His father nodded. The air crackled with tension. "Okay, so we can assume they aren't foot soldiers." Brody exhaled and shook his head. "This is a hell of a leap, but do we know if Treyson and Masters had ties to import/export companies?"

  "Treyson Logistics is a global company," Kallie said and thumbed through her notebook. "I listed the companies that Samuel oversaw somewhere. Yep. Treyson Logistics. Global. He also was on the board for Treyson Shipping & Storage, and Treyson Parcel Delivery."

  "But this information... is it admissible?" Brody glanced between his father and her.

  Hell, she had no idea, but anything from Guardian was credible. That much she did know.

  "I have initiated the paperwork. When the DA signs off on it, we can move forward with an official request. At that time, it will be actionable. Right now, we are gathering facts and starting to plan. Your team and probably several federal entities will be involved in the follow up of this mess," the Commissioner said to Brody.

  "Yeah, I assumed."

  Chauncey King stood. She and Brody did the same. The Commissioner then turned to her. "You and my son Brock are the rock stars that broke this case open. It was a powder keg and you handled it exceptionally well. Davidson has told me he plans on putting both of you in for Service Commendation Medals."

  "We were just following the evidence, sir."

  "Which could have ended in a wall of lawyers and no answers. Instead you two used the law to build a solid case. Well done."

  "Thank you." She could feel her face heat at the compliment.

  "Now on to other business. I understand you and my son are an item?"

  "An item, Dad? What are we, stuck in the fifties?" Brody ducked the swat his father sent his direction.

  "Whatever, boy, I will end you." Chauncy laughed when his son started bouncing on his feet and tucked his fists up like he was a boxer. "Such a scrapper." He turned his attention to Kallie. "The paperwork has been filed with HR, correct?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Good. We do things by the rules, no exceptions." He turned to open the door. "Welcome to the insanity, Kallie. I wish you luck, but I have a feeling my wife has plans for you."

  "I've been warned, sir."

  "Ah… good. She means well, but she..."

  "Has zero boundaries." Brody tossed his capped, half-empty soda bottle in the air and caught it.

  "What he said." Chauncy winked at her and left the room.

  Kallie sat on the chair and rifled through the information the Commissioner had just dropped their doorstep. "This is going to be a mess for you and your team."

  "We're used to messes. I'm going to find a place with reception and privacy and give my Lieutenant and Captain a heads-up call."

  Kallie nodded. "I'll go tread where angels fear." She nodded at the small waiting room where people now overflowed into the hall. She started down the hall following the Commissioner but stopped when Brody called to her.

  "You and Brock? You make sense."

  "Is that you giving us your blessing?"

  "Fuck, no. I’m not that type. It’s just me saying I can see why he likes you. Got any sisters?"

  "Nope. Only child."

  "Ain't that just my luck." Brody chuckled, spun on the heel of his biker boot, and headed down the hall.

  Kallie smiled and glanced at the waiting room. Being close to Brock King meant she was taking a plunge into a world that involved family. She heard a roll of laughter come from the waiting room. All things considered, that was okay.

  17

  Waking up after surgery sucked. Yeah, he was pro at it, but damn it, the disorientation followed by the drugged laced 'you know something’s not right, but you can't remember what the fuck it is' confusion blew. Brock blinked, trying to get his eyes to stay open. He watched the nurse at the foot of his bed. She was busy tapping at the computer on the rolling table.

  He shifted. "Fuck." Note to self. Use the other arm.

  "Ah, you're with us again."

  What? "Where did I go?"

  The woman laughed and shook her head. "Nowhere. You're in recovery right now. How are you doing? Are you in pain?"

  Brock blinked at her. He should probably be able to answer that, but for the life of him he wasn't following the dots. She walked up the side of the bed. "The doctor will be in shortly. In the meantime, are you in pain?"

  Brock shook his head, for no other reason than that was what he assumed she wanted him to do.

  "Good. There are a lot of people waiting to see you." She futzed with the tubing attached to him. "I'll go let the doc know you're awake. We'll be transferring you to a room after you wake up a bit more."

  Brock nodded and then closed his eyes.

  "Detective King?"

  Brock roused. Damn, there was a different nurse now, he rolled his head... and his doctor. Surgery. Right. He cleared his throat. "How's my arm?"

  The doctor smiled. "You'll be fine. A few weeks recovery and a PT stint is in your future, but you shouldn't have any lingering problems. It was a textbook extraction."

  "Good."

  "We're going to transfer you to your room soon, but there is quite a crowd waiting. Hospital policy will limit your visitors while you’re here in recovery. I can authorize up to two." The doctor tapped the keys on the computer at the foot of the bed. "Is there someone special you want back here?"

  Brock chuckled. "My partner, Kallie Redman, and you better let my parents in or there will be hell to pay."

  The doc chuckled. "That's three, but I heard your father is the police commissioner, wouldn't want to make an enemy."

  "Yeah, but let me tell you, he's a marshmallow compared to my mother. That is one person you do not want to piss off." Brock rolled his eyes so hard his brain hurt.

  Both the doc and the nurse laughed.

  "Go ahead, laugh. I'm telling you the woman looks meek and mild mannered, but it's an illusion. You've never had her guilt cannon leveled at you."

  "Sorry to tell you this, but most moms are that way. I'll go get them." The nurse's laughter followed her from the curtained off area.

  "I can go straight back to desk duty, right?" There were so many questions that needed to be answered about the case, his mind was already churning. What the fuck did Masters have to do with Treyson?

  "Home for at least three days, then limited duty," the doctor answered, although his attention was fixed on the computer screen.

  He could hear his mom talking to the nurse. "Really, dear, I think since he's been out of surgery for almost an hour, we could have been brought back sooner. Are you a mom? No? Well, you'd understand if you were a mother. No matter how old they get, a mother's heart will forever be with her children."

  The doctor glanced at him and chuckled. Brock pointed a finger at the opening in the curtain and mouthed, 'guilt cannon.'

  His father pushed the curtain wider and ushered in his mother and Kallie. Kallie slid to the side and shoved her hands into her hoodie as if she didn't know exactly what to do. His mom and dad moved toward his bed.

  "You look pale. He looks pale. Is he supposed to be this pale?" His mother pushed his hair from his face and stared at the doctor, waiting for a response.

  "He's the picture of health considering he's just undergone general anesthesia and surgery. His color will return. I'm happy to say everything went exactly as anticipated, and he'll be back at work with minimal down time."

  "Good. Honey, you can come stay with us while you get back on your feet."

  Brock blinked and shifted his worried glance toward his father. "Dad..."

  "Now, Hannah, I'm sure Kallie will be able to watch over Brock. He's a grown man and doesn't need his mother to... hover."

  "Hover?" Hannah straightened
and glanced from him to his father. "Chauncey King, I do not hover."

  "Yes, dear. Of course not." Chauncey gave her the smile he reserved only for her.

  Brock took the opportunity to glance at Kallie. He mouthed, “I’m sorry." She smiled and looked down, trying to hide her amusement.

  Brock took advantage of the rare moment of silence and jumped in. "Mom, I'm fine, really. Dad, what's happening with the case?"

  "Oh, are we really doing this now?" his mom grumped and put her hands on her hips.

  "Mom, I have to know what is going on." Brock wasn't going to let his mother derail him this time.

  "Fine, I'll tell everyone you're doing well, although you're a bit pale. And thin. Kallie you need to take care of that. He doesn't eat well. I'm not pleased it took so long to get back here." She glared at the doctor before she dropped a kiss on his head. The doctor opened the curtain for her and departed when she did, leaving the three of them behind the curtain.

  "This isn't the most secure location." His father glanced at the curtain walls.

  "Then whisper, but damn, Dad, don’t leave me hanging." Brock needed to know what was going on. He also wanted to offer his hand to Kallie, but unfortunately, he remembered her boundaries initiative. He was pretty certain talking about the case with his father fell somewhere in that work-slash-professional realm she mentioned. He could plead drug induced memory loss, but he wanted to be what she needed.

  His father glanced around and grabbed a small plastic chair. After taking a seat he leaned forward and in a low, concise, manner brought Brock up to speed. Brock used his uninjured arm to rub his face. “Masters and Treyson are being paid by the Dominican Cartel.”

  His father nodded his head. “That’s what it looks like. We have hoops to jump through before that information becomes official, but if Guardian is certain, I’ll take it as gospel.”

  “Has Masters said anything? How did he get a fucking gun into the building?”

  Kallie left her post by the curtain and moved closer.