Dishonorable Death

by Linda S. Prather

  DISHONORABLE

  DEATH

  LINDA S. PRATHER

  New York Times and USA Today Best Selling Author, Linda S. Prather

  Copyright © 2019 Linda S. Prather

  Digital Edition, License Notes

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Dedicated to my wonderful family, friends and fans for their encouragement and constant prodding.

  A special thank you to Mel Comley and Mum, as well as a very special ARC group who keep me plugging along at the computer.

  Thank you to Red Adept Editing, and thanks to my line editor, Stephanie and proofreader, Laura. Without you, I’d be lost.

  And to the wonderful Facebook groups that help support independent and traditionally published authors. Waving to TBC and its fabulous readers and authors.

  Stay in touch with the author:

  Mail to: linda@lindasprather.com

  http://twitter.com/jacodypress

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  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  FROM THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  “You’ve reached the residence of Detective Kacy Lang. I can’t come to the phone right now because it’s Saturday. My first day off in two months, and I don’t give a big rat’s ass who’s dead.”

  Giggles came through the line.

  “Jesus, Lang, you’re a potty mouth even on your birthday.” Dave Capello chuckled softly. “Martha and the girls wanted to say happy birthday before they catch the plane to visit Grandma and Grandpa.”

  “Happy birthday, Aunt Kacy.”

  “Aww… you guys are so sweet. Thank you. Have fun on your trip.”

  “We will.”

  I held the phone away from my ear as more giggles and a few squeals erupted.

  “Settle down back there!” Dave yelled. “You free for dinner? Buy you a burger?”

  I hated lying to Dave. My plans for the day were to do absolutely nothing except wallow in misery. In my case, misery did not love company. “Sorry, partner, but I have a date.”

  “A date? With who?”

  “It’s whom, and that falls under need to know.” I could hear Martha’s laughter in the background. She loved it when I put Dave in his place. “You don’t need to know. See you Monday.”

  I ended the call before he could go into full interrogation mode, picked up my fresh cup of hazelnut coffee, and headed for my favorite spot on the back porch. I’d spent the last hour pulling weeds and rubbing my lower back. Weeks of work and a thousand dollars had turned the small patch into what my psychiatrist called a meditation garden. Propping my feet on the ottoman, I leaned back in the chair. Bastard should have called it a chiropractor garden with all the damn weeds I have to constantly pull.

  Chicago’s latest census count of over ten million made days off rare. Add to that the fact it was June, when festivals were springing up every weekend with thousands of locals and visitors on the streets, and it made for the perfect playground for every crazy within a hundred miles. For the most part, I didn’t mind, but today was different. It really was my first Saturday off in over two months. It was also my thirtieth birthday.

  Sipping my coffee, I watched the butterflies flitting from the brightly colored yarrow to the sundrops just beginning to bloom.

  Something evil this way comes.

  I shuddered, trembling hands splashing coffee onto my bare legs. Since becoming a detective with the Chicago Police Department, I’d acquired a certain sixth sense, an atmospheric shift that caused my stomach to clench when something bad was about to spring from the shadows. That clench had become a painful knot, and I shrugged it off to nerves and emotions.

  Today also marked the sixth-month anniversary of my twin brother’s murder, and I mentally willed the phone not to ring again. I needed the downtime to submerge myself in self-pity and guilt. The pain was there, still raw and festering. Most of the time, I could shake it off. I didn’t want to shake off the guilt. Since Kyle’s death, I’d fed it daily and pushed myself to the limits of human endurance to solve every murder that crossed my path—especially those with drug connections. Dave had accused me of charging at the enemy with no thought of safety, and he and Greg were beginning to worry that I had a death wish, which, of course, was utter bullshit.

  I raised my cup for a birthday toast. “Happy birthday, Kyle. Maybe if I wasn’t such an anal jerk, I could have saved you, and we’d be celebrating today together.”

  Shifting in the seat, I consoled myself with the knowledge Kyle would never be totally gone. I saw him in Yoshe every time I visited Charles and Melanie. My niece was going to grow up to be a beautiful young woman, but the eyes that sparkled when I visited were Kyle’s. It’s like looking into my own soul.

  I dropped my feet to the floor and leaned forward with a groan. Yoshe’s soul was innocent, filled with joy. Kyle’s had been tortured by the drugs he’d taken and the lives he’d destroyed. Don’t go there, Lang.

  It was too late to stop myself, as thoughts of Kyle turned to thoughts of Marcone and the small, brightly colored package lying on my kitchen table, waiting for me to open it. A gift from my real father. Someone I didn’t want to think about today. The package wasn’t a total surprise. He’d made it clear from the beginning that he was there to offer all the love, support, and family I’d missed for the first twenty-nine years of my life. I should have welcomed that with open arms, and perhaps I would have if he didn’t stand for everything I’d devoted my career to wiping out—crime and murder. If I love him, I’ll lose him, just like I lost Kyle.

  Disgusted with myself for falling into my own trap of gloom and doom, I tossed the cold coffee, grabbed my cell phone, and headed inside. “Damn it, I just wanted to be miserable, not psychotic.”

  I didn’t have a death wish, but I’d changed my mind about the phone ringing. Work was preferable to time alone with my thoughts. Maybe Greg was right, and I did need to get a dog. It was certainly a better option than Dave’s suggestion that I needed to get laid. Why is it men think sex cures everything?

  Sighing, I threw the cup in the sink and toyed with the package, turning it left then right. I had to open it eventually.

  My cell rang, and Dave Capello’s name flashed on the screen. He just doesn’t give up. I swiped the answer
key. “I’m not telling you, Capello.”

  “You’re gonna have to cancel that date. We’ve got a body. I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes. Wear boots.”

  Boots? The line went dead before I could ask what kind of boots. Leaving the package unopened, I sprinted to the bedroom. When Dave said thirty minutes, he meant exactly twenty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds, giving me one second to be out the door. After stripping off the tank top and cut-offs I’d hoped to spend the day in, I pulled on jeans and a sleeveless button-down shirt, slipped on my shoulder holster, and topped it off with a lightweight jacket before brushing my teeth and running a comb through the short curls. I didn’t know where we were going, but the commander was a real bastard when it came to his detectives being dressed in what he considered appropriate attire to represent the department. Fortunately, I’d taken a shower after weeding the flower garden. Grimacing, I glanced at my outfit. It was nearing the end of the second week of June, and Chicago weather was unpredictable. In another hour, it could be hotter than hell or chilly and stormy. Screw it. If Park doesn’t like my jeans and short sleeves, he can kiss my ass or call someone else on my day off.

  The shudder I’d felt on the porch was back, this time a coldness that sank all the way to my bones. Why did they call Dave instead of me? It was a good question. As lead detective, I received most, if not all, crime scene calls first.

  A quick glance at my watch showed I didn’t have time to dwell on whys or what-ifs. Back in the bedroom, I knelt in front of the closet and studied my assortment of footwear. I had hip waders for creeks and knee highs for the more hilly and forested areas around Chicago. Grabbing both pairs, I shoved my feet into tennis shoes and headed back to the living room with one minute to spare as a horn blared outside. “Jerk. I’m going to kill him.”

  Dave grinned as I slammed the door behind me and locked it. “Get a move on it, Lang.”

  I pointed to my watch. “You said thirty minutes. It’s only been twenty-nine minutes and thirty seconds.” I hopped in the passenger seat, and Dave backed out before I had time to buckle up. “What’s the rush? If it’s a dead body, they’re not going anywhere before we get there.”

  “Uniforms on the scene.” He glanced my way. “Aren’t you the one that always says you want to walk the site before it’s destroyed? In another hour, the hill will be covered.”

  I knew every one of Dave’s moods, and something was definitely off. His jovial voice didn’t match his body language. His hands were wrapped around the wheel in a death grip. Deep furrows were evident between his brows. “Hill? Where exactly are we going?”

  “Des Plaines.”

  A chill started in my feet, working its way upward. “Off trail?”

  Dave nodded. “A few hundred feet from where I found you.” He shot me a worried glance. “Coincidence, Kacy. The body wasn’t buried. It’s stretched out in some sort of freaking ritual at the top of the first loop.”

  I unbuckled my seat belt, kicked off the tennis shoes, and slipped on the knee-high boots. At least I knew why Dave had received the call. On any other day, I might have bought into the coincidence theory. On my birthday and the anniversary of Kyle’s murder? And the killer just happens to leave the body near the place I almost died. I kept my thoughts to myself. “Lots of snakes in that area.”

  Dave nodded and flexed his fingers on the wheel. “You gonna be okay with this?”

  “I’m not thrilled, but my psychiatrist will be happy. He’s been trying to get me to make this trip for over a year. Keeps spouting all that ‘face your fear’ nonsense.” I shrugged. “You know me; I’ll be fine once we go to work.”

  “You ain’t alone this time, kid. You need a break, we’ll take a break. Anybody has a problem with that, I’ll bitch-slap them.”

  The thought of gentle Dave bitch-slapping someone made me laugh, and I even managed a witty comeback. “I think you’ve forgotten how steep that trail is, and with all those doughnuts you’ve been eating, I’m not the one who will need a break.”

  We finished the drive in a comfortable silence. The one thing in life we could both depend on was the fact that we would have each other’s back. I would die for Dave Capello, and there was no doubt in my mind he would die for me.

  The huge sign loomed ahead, and Dave slowed to turn in to the main parking lot. Three uniformed officers were busy redirecting hikers to another trail.

  “Busy place.” Dave parked and cut the engine. “Never could understand why anyone wanted to climb a hill.”

  “Some people like exercise.” I patted his stomach. “Unlike you. Besides that, it’s a popular place for young lovers to watch the sunrise.”

  “You and Greg been up here? Which reminds me, where is our partner?”

  “Don’t be an ass. I don’t date cops—or detectives. And I have no idea where he is. It’s Saturday, so maybe we’re the only lucky ones to get called out. Let’s get started.”

  We exited and walked toward the uniformed officer waiting at the bottom of the trail.

  “Anyone else here yet?” I asked.

  “No, ma’am. I left Officer Tedrow with the couple that discovered the body and came down to lead the team up.”

  “We can find our way. Looks like you’re needed here.” The crowd in the parking lot was continuing to grow.

  “Go about a mile in, turn right on the foot trail. It’s not too far from there.”

  “We know the place.” I took off at a swift pace. The sooner I made it to the scene, the less time I would have to dwell on the fear eating away at my insides.

  “Slow down, Kacy. You keep this pace up, and I’m gonna have a heart attack before we get there.” He was breathing hard as I stopped to let him catch up. “And you’re too skinny to carry me out of here.”

  “You’re such a wimp.” I paced myself to Dave’s stride, my anxiety increasing as we reached the foot trail leading to the top of a small hill. I stopped for a moment to take a deep breath. “Watch out for snakes.”

  Dave shook his head. “You ain’t fooling nobody, partner. If you want to call it off, I’ll tell Park to get someone else.”

  Fooling most people was easy, but not Dave. “I’ll be okay once we get to the scene. He said it wasn’t too far.”

  “That’s my girl.” Dave huffed and puffed behind me as I pushed aside an overgrown branch blocking the trail.

  “Not too far” turned out to be over a half mile of rugged terrain. Officer Tedrow was standing with a young couple a fair distance from the body, near a cluster of trees. “They look ready to collapse. Would you care to take the couple?”

  Dave smiled, a twinkle in his gray eyes. “Take them where?”

  “It’s a murder scene. Stop making jokes.”

  Dave grunted, took his notepad from his pocket, and headed toward the teenagers. “You ain’t no fun at all.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “We thought she was sleeping.” The teenage girl’s voice quivered as she glanced at the body then quickly away. She swallowed hard.

  “Anything else, Kacy?” Dave finished jotting down the information the young couple had given him.

  I shook my head. It had taken every ounce of my courage to climb the trail and not freak out when we passed the area where Min Wong had buried me alive. The teenagers were on the verge of becoming hysterical, and I preferred not to have to deal with that. “You two can go now. Officer Tedrow will escort you down. We’ll be in touch if we have more questions.”

  The two hurried back down the trail without waiting for the officer.

  I glanced at the body and sighed. “I’d say their early-morning hiking days are over.”

  “Mine too.” Dave patted his belly. “We missed lunch, and it’s already getting hot out here.” He peered into my face. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I wasn’t, but we had a job to do.

  From a distance, the body gave off the illusion of innocence, like a young bride sleeping in a bed of white rose petals. Her long blond hair flowed out b
eneath a crown of thorns.

  “Jesus.” Dave wiped sweat from his face. “Is she supposed to be an angel or what? She does look like she’s asleep.”

  Kneeling beside the circle of rocks, careful not to disturb anything until forensics and the medical examiner arrived, I studied the scene. “Definitely not an innocent. Her name’s Sicily James. She’s a local prostitute and druggie.” I stood and dusted my hands on my pants. “Greg and I arrested her three months ago, after she stabbed a john and left him in a dingy motel room to bleed out.”

  “Where was I?”

  “It was the week you and Martha took the kids to Disneyland.” I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of the scene. “Fortunately for Sicily, the broken arm, black eyes, and missing teeth convinced us—and the jury—she’d knifed the guy in self-defense.”

  “What’s up with all the rocks around her?” Dave wiped his face again, his breath coming out in small huffs.

  “It looks like a dream catcher. Native Americans believed if they hung it over their bed, it would capture their nightmares and keep them safe.” I scrutinized the area around us. “The real question is, how the hell did someone get them here? It took us a half hour to climb that trail.”

  Dave pursed his lips and scratched his head. “Easier to get the rocks here, I’d say, than it was to get the body up that trail. He could have picked the stones up from the surrounding area. And those ain’t wildflowers she’s laying on, either. At least a couple of hundred bucks in white roses there.”

  “You don’t buy many roses for Martha, do you? More like five hundred to a thousand dollars. What makes you think it’s a he?”

  “Can’t imagine a woman laying her out like that. Especially in a wedding dress.”

  I wanted to get our first impressions down while they were fresh, before the scene was disturbed. “Myriah and the forensic team should be here soon. Grab your notepad and tell me what you see.”

  Dave walked around the scene, pen and pad in hand. “Thirty rocks around the perimeter. Four extending above her head, four below her feet, and four out from each arm.”