Caballo Security Box Set

by Camilla Blake

  “Is he out of surgery?”

  “Yeah. He’s still unconscious from the anesthesia, but—”

  “You should go. I’ll get an Uber and go back to the office.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It must be time to get your daughter from school, too.” I nodded, almost as though convincing myself. “You should be with your family now.”

  “I could drop you.”

  “No. I’ll get an Uber.” I climbed out of the SUV and reached back in for my bag. “Tell everyone I’m praying for them.”

  “Thank you, Kinsley.”

  I smiled. “If I knew that’s what it would take to get you to call me by my first name, I would have gotten your brother shot a long time ago.”

  Akker tried a smile, but it didn’t quite make it.

  “Take care.”

  I watched him drive off before I pulled my phone out of my pocket. As I scrolled through the apps, looking for the Uber one, a thought occurred to me. I suddenly realized I knew how to end all this. I just… Was it really a good idea? But the thing was, I hadn’t had a good idea all day. I was just chasing my tail—and I hated when I was just chasing my tail.

  I let myself back into the house, pausing to check on Mrs. Winn. She was still sleeping peacefully on the couch. I backtracked and made my way into the kitchen. On a pegboard in the laundry room were several sets of keys. I remembered someone had said that Ox hired a driver for his mother. Or was it Oliver? I was so tired, I was beginning to lose details.

  She might have a driver, but she still had access to at least three cars, if the number of keys on the pegboard told me anything. And where was the driver? Did he live here? Had he seen Akker and me arrive? Was he right now informing Lindsay of our presence?

  A part of me hoped so. Another part was frightened.

  I stepped into the garage and, sure enough, there were three cars. I peeked into the window of the nearest one—a Lexus—and figured out why the keys were just hanging out where Mrs. Winn had easy access to them. There was a breath-analyzer device connected to the ignition system. She couldn’t start the car while drinking, even if she wanted to.

  I wondered where Ox got access to those. Then again, did I really have to wonder?

  I turned to go back into the house. As soon as I stepped over the threshold into the laundry room, someone grabbed me. Instinctively, my knee came up and slammed into the person’s crotch. He grunted, but he didn’t let go. I struck out with the side of my hand, punching him right in the throat. The sound this time was more of a scream. He went down, but then two more men were waiting for me just inside the tiny space.

  “Don’t fight, Kinsley. You’ll only make it harder on yourself.”

  “Go fuck yourself, Chad!”

  I saw the punch coming. I tried to jerk back, but the guy whose throat I’d chopped was recovered enough that he was able to move up behind and block any backward movement I might make by throwing his arms around me. My vision darkened with the sharp pain of the fist smashing against my cheekbone. But it came right back.

  I spit, hitting Chad in the center of the chest with a glob of blood and mucus.

  “Go fuck yourself!” I repeated.

  “Tough bitch!” one of the other guys said, a little admiration dripping from his words.

  “Take her out of here. He’s expecting us.”

  “Who’s that, Chad?” I demanded. “Are you talking about Brown? Garcia? Or maybe Williams? Or are you talking about that one name you were all hoping we wouldn’t stumble on? Huh, Chad? Is that who you’re talking about?”

  He hit me again. This time it took longer for my vision to come back. By the time it did, they had me back in the garage and out a back door. They held me under my armpits and by my ankles. I jerked, did a sort of lying-down twerk. It didn’t help. These assholes were strong. Their car was parked out in the alley. They tossed me into the trunk like I was a sack of potatoes.

  I reached into my back skirt pocket, making sure my phone was still there. Thank God Chad Lindsay didn’t always follow protocol!

  Chapter 18

  Ox

  It was a longer drive into the city than I anticipated. The Uber driver kept stealing glances at me like she was afraid I was going to jump over the seat and rape her while she was driving. The fear in her eyes was almost depressing. I attempted to calm her fears when I first got into the car, but my words fell on deaf ears, so I stopped trying.

  I took my wallet from my back pocket—silently thanking Kinsley for allowing me to keep it—and tossed a fifty over the front seat as she pulled to the curb at my destination.

  “The app pays me,” she said, picking up the bill.

  “A tip.”

  She didn’t argue. I got out and waited for her to go before walking around the corner to the next block over. The houses were small and close together here, but it was quiet. Still working hours. I approached the house carefully, trying not to look obvious as I checked out the windows, looked for signs of occupancy. I knew it was unlikely that anyone would have connected me to this place, but you could never be too cautious.

  I didn’t want to get arrested before I found Kinsley and found out what the hell she was up to.

  Taking a chance, I ran up the front walkway and used a key hidden under a ceramic frog to let myself in. The house was cool, the air conditioning doing wonders to cut the fall heat. I closed my eyes, suddenly aware of just how exhausted I was. What a night!

  I walked boldly into the living room. I knew no one would be here. They might not appreciate me being here, either, but I couldn’t think of anywhere else. I paused as I passed a wall covered in framed snapshots. There was one of me, something that made my heart skip a beat. Who would have thought that she still thought so fondly of me?

  Amanda McDonald. We grew up together. Her father was my father’s best friend. In fact, he’d taken over Caballo when my father passed away. It’d been a few years since I last saw Amanda, but I was grateful to know she still thought enough of me to put a picture of us together on her wall.

  I went into the master bedroom, feeling a little like a voyeur when I saw that the bed wasn’t made. I ducked into the bathroom and ran the hot water, undressing and climbing under the spray with a sigh of relief. There was nothing better than hot water after a hard ordeal. There were two different kinds of shampoo in there. I chose the one with the spicy, masculine scent, assuming that was Amanda’s boyfriend’s. She’d been with a doctor the last time I saw her. I wondered if she still was.

  I washed up quickly, unbandaging my wrist and carefully cleaning the wounds that were there. A deep gash split both sides of my wrist, but otherwise it seemed to be superficial cuts and scratches. It would bruise. It was already a lovely shade of purple. But considering I’d been held hostage for sixteen hours, it wasn’t too bad.

  I borrowed a man’s suit I found in the closet. It was a little cheaper than my preferred style, but it fit in length, though a little wide around the waist. I cinched it up with a nice leather belt, calculating in my head how much this would cost the owner of the items. I’d be sure to send him a tidy check.

  Feeling almost human again, I considered calling the office from the landline on the kitchen wall. However, I felt as though I’d already overstayed my welcome. Calling another Uber seemed like the prudent way to go about things, and I didn’t think I’d have as much trouble finding someone with a cell phone as I’d had at the convenience store out in the boondocks. You’d think I’d asked to borrow a million dollars the way those people reacted to my request. This country really was forgetting what it meant to offer a little simple kindness to a stranger.

  I needed to get to the office. I needed to find Kinsley, find out what was going on with her investigation. I needed to make sure she hadn’t walked into one of Lindsay’s traps. And I needed to know what had happened to make her rush out of my little dungeon the way she had.

  Please, God, don’t let anyone be injured!

  I was goi
ng to the office, then I would turn myself in. This had to end today.

  Chapter 19

  Kinsley

  It was hot in the trunk. I was sweating through my blouse by the time they opened the damn thing up. Chad lifted me out himself, which was a surprise. I’d never had him down as a gentleman.

  “I don’t know what you’re doing working with them, Kins,” he said. “Such a shame!”

  “It’s a shame you are who you are, Chad. Stealing? Isn’t that one of the things we swore to protect the citizens of this city from?”

  “Yeah, well, what are the perps going to do with it? Besides, it just goes to the lockup until trial, and then they burn it. Do you know how all that money could benefit the people of this city who don’t sell drugs, who don’t beat their wives, who don’t screw around with their children? Aren’t those the people you think we should protect?”

  “I think everyone is innocent until proven guilty, because that’s what the Constitution tells me.”

  “To hell with all that. The founding fathers didn’t have to put up with assholes like the Duprey brothers who carved up a ten-year-old girl simply because she stuck out her tongue at one of them!”

  “You’re supposed to let the courts deal with people like that. You can’t be judge and jury all on your own.”

  “I’m better than most of these damn lawyers around here!”

  He tossed me onto a concrete floor. A shock rushed up my spine as my ankle turned with the impact. I cried out, leaning over to touch the injured spot. Chad shoved me back with his knee, pinning me down to the floor and cuffing my hands in front of me. He used a flexi cuff on my legs, fastening it a little above the ankle, maybe in deference to the swelling that was already beginning there.

  “We don’t want to kill her, Lindsay,” a familiar voice said behind us.

  “No, sir.”

  “Try to be a little more gentle from here on out.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chad backed away from me and disappeared from my line of sight. I kept my head down, trying to look as defeated as I could. It wasn’t hard. Pain throbbed from both my ankle and my face, my breath whistling a little through my swollen nose.

  “I’m sorry for the violence, Lucy,” that voice—such a familiar voice—said behind me.

  It hurt that he used my given name, the name my mother had picked for me. I closed my eyes, the memory of his dark jacket filling my mind. That was about all I remembered from that night. Running from the cabin, finding the farmer. And then that dark jacket.

  It was the moment I saw that dark jacket that I knew it was over. I knew I’d survived. I knew I was going to be okay. It was the dark blues of his police uniform.

  If you’re ever out there and afraid, Momma used to say, you find yourself a cop. You can always trust a cop.

  I’d believed that all my life. I’d held on to that. It drove me, kept my head up and my confidence high all through school, living in all those foster homes, because I knew, I knew as long as there was a cop nearby, I was okay. Then college, and the academy. I was going to be that same beacon of hope to some kid. Because you can trust a cop.

  Not anymore.

  Tears fell despite my resolve, despite the steel I tried to forge into my spine. Tears fell because he’d used my given name.

  “I’m sorry it’s come to this. I thought when I assigned you to be a liaison at Caballo, it would show you that what we’ve done, what we’ve continued to do, is not as bad as it might seem. Those cowboys over there, they’ve always walked a fine line. And that’s all we do. We walk a very fine line.”

  “No. You step over it.”

  “Everything was always so black and white to you.”

  I heard his footsteps come closer to me. I squeezed my eyes tighter, wiping my face on the shoulders of my blouse. I didn’t want him to see how weak he’d made me.

  “Do you remember the night we met, Lucy? Do you remember how you ran into my arms like I was your father returned from a long absence? I’ve never forgotten what that was like. Susan and I… I always thought I would make a good father. Maybe that’s why you’ve always felt like a daughter to me. Because of that night, of the way you looked at me, how grateful you were to have me nearby. Do you remember refusing to let me go when the paramedics arrived? Do you remember how you insisted I go with you to the hospital?”

  “No.”

  “You did. And you cried when I tried to let go of your hand so they could put an IV in your arm. As long as I was there, you were okay, but the moment I was out of your sight, you’d scream. They told me. They had to sedate you.”

  “Because of the doctors and the medical instruments.”

  “Perhaps. But I knew that even then we had a special bond.”

  He reached for me, grabbed my chin. I opened my eyes to find him squatting down beside me. I’d once thought he was a handsome man. Tall, blond, and fit, he was distinguished, to say the least. But right now? He just seemed ugly.

  I jerked my chin from his hand.

  “You’re a crooked cop! You steal from people!”

  “I don’t steal from people. My crew steals from criminals, people who don’t deserve their ill-gotten goods.”

  “Ill-gotten? Is that how you justify it, Major?”

  He studied me for a long moment. “I don’t need to justify. It just is what it is.”

  “You have a whole crew of crooked cops stealing for you.”

  He lowered his head slightly, his eyes nothing more than slits as he continued to study me. “I was hoping you’d see it my way. I was hoping you’d join us, become my second. I’m going to retire soon and I was hoping to leave all this to you.”

  “You really thought I would turn on the promise I made to the citizens of this city? I became a cop because of you, Major! I became who I am because you saved me from my insane father that night! How could you think I would ever embrace your money-laundering scheme?”

  He tilted his head slightly. “I thought if you loved me enough, you would believe anything.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I love you so much that I wouldn’t have believed you capable of this. I would never have seen this if not for Ox and the people at Caballo. If not for Brock Mills.”

  “Brock Mills?”

  He seemed slightly confused by that. It made me angry for a moment, but then understanding sank in. I laughed.

  “He didn’t tell you. How many other things did he fail to tell you?”

  Major Patrick rose to his feet and turned away, glancing toward the doorway where Lindsay had disappeared. When he reached the wall, he turned back, crossing his ankles casually as he studied me.

  “So, what now? We’re at a bit of an impasse now, Lucy.”

  “Are we?”

  “You know about my side business. You know about Ox Winn’s role in it.”

  “I don’t know everything.”

  “What’s left?”

  I shrugged, adjusting my cuffed hands on my lap. “I don’t know how Jimmy Winn figures into the whole thing. I don’t know why you instructed his wife to kill him. I don’t know why he suddenly wanted out.”

  Major shrugged. “Jimmy Winn had a gambling addiction. It got worse after his kid died. After just a few months, the man was in deep. He owed like twenty thou to a bookie. I found him in the locker room, crying into a T-shirt, worrying about losing his house. He said his wife was already drinking too much, his kids were frightened and confused. They couldn’t lose the house on top of everything else.” He rolled his shoulders again. “I felt sorry for the man. I cut him in.”

  “You were already stealing from perps?”

  “Sure. Had been since I was a rookie. Had a whole thing going. The guy who was my training partner got me in on it. I took over from him and had myself a squad of about six guys at the time. Jimmy… he was like you. He was eaten up with guilt about it at first. But then it got easier, especially when he was able to get caught up on his mortgage payments.”

  �
�This has been going on for decades?”

  “Hell, it’s probably been going on since the birth of the police department.” He chuckled. “Why should the perps get rich while our families starve? There’s no sense to it!”

  “What about law and order? What about trust?”

  “What about it? We’re still out there, risking our lives every day to protect this damn city! Who’s out there protecting us? We’ve got cops being gunned down every single day, just because they wear the uniform! We have fucking targets on our backs these days! Why shouldn’t we protect ourselves?” He leaned forward, thrusting his finger at me as though it would underscore his words. “When Sergeant Adams died last year, who do you think paid for that funeral? It definitely wasn’t the benefits he got through the department! And his wife? Who do you think pays for that Prius she drives? Who do you think pays for her kids to go to a private school? That’s definitely not the taxpayers, sweetheart.”

  “So you dragged Jimmy Winn into it—”

  “I didn’t drag him in. He came hopping and skipping of his own accord. But then he won that lawsuit against the people who let his girl drown and he left the department, opened that security firm. That’s when I had this brilliant idea.”

  “It was your idea?”

  “Hell, yeah! And it was perfect! I found the accountant; I told Jimmy to hire him. And I outlined the whole damn thing, explained to him exactly how to clean up our money so it would look like we were making investments in the firm. And then he came up with the retirement thing.”

  “Then those guys on the lawsuit—”

  “All retired cops who took part in the scheme at one time or another. You see? I take care of mine.”

  “How many are there now?”

  “Twenty-three, counting the active and retired guys. And there will be more soon.”

  I closed my eyes, a wave of nausea rushing through me. This was insane!

  “But then Jimmy wanted out.”