Stolen Lives: A Detective Mystery Series SuperBoxset

by James Hunt

  The thump of helicopter blades in the air triggered the needed clarity to push herself from the riverbank mud and stumble up toward the row of houses that lined the river. She placed her hand over her heart, once again trying to clutch the badge that was no longer there. She wasn’t a cop anymore. She was a fugitive, wanted for murder. And the only way to enact her vengeance was to bring justice to a man that had been untouchable in this state for the past twenty years.

  Chapter 5

  A trail of muddy footprints stretched from the bank of the river all the way to the rundown neighborhood that ran along the east bank until they finally disappeared in the grass between two one-story homes. Cooper limped forward, keeping low under the windows as she passed. She needed to change, and quickly. Her wet clothes weren’t the most inconspicuous look for staying below the radar.

  Clothes hung out to dry on a line flapped gently in the breeze, and Cooper checked the tags, looking for anything close to her size, then yanked items off the clothesline. She peeled off her clothes as she moved, dropping articles one after another as she maneuvered deeper into the neighborhood. She checked the sky, looking for the chopper’s spotlight.

  Nothing put officers in a frenzy like the loss of one of their own. They would hunt her down with the scent of blood in their nostrils. The moment she found herself in someone’s crosshairs, she was dead. There wouldn’t be any hesitation in pulling the trigger. Not for her.

  With her hair still sopping wet, she twisted it up in a bun, doing what she could to keep it from soaking the dry clothes she had stolen. Every few hundred feet she was forced to stop, the pain in her calf reaching a crescendo. The makeshift tourniquet she’d wrapped around the bite marks had stopped the bleeding, but it did little to ease the pain. Every flex of her foot was excruciating. Hospitals and doctors’ offices were off the table, but there was one person she could turn to—at least, she thought she could trust him. The wail of police sirens in the night combined with the pain in her leg overrode her skepticism, and she walked north, reciting Hart’s address in her mind.

  ***

  Cooper had collapsed into a thicket of bushes just outside Hart’s home, which she had watched for the past hour. She thought the police would come directly to him, but so far there hadn’t been a single drive-by. If he hadn’t been told, then there was still a chance to tell him her side of the story, what had really happened. But would he even believe me? With her leg still bleeding and nowhere else to run, she didn’t have a choice.

  Cooper crept toward the side door, past the two cars in the driveway, and knocked gently. She adjusted the duffle bag strap on her shoulder and made sure to tuck the revolver under her shirt and into her waistband. It was the only weapon she had left; her service pistol was somewhere at the bottom of the river, and while she hoped she wouldn’t need a gun, she wasn’t going to take any chances.

  The door rattled from her pounding, and after a few seconds, the light above her flicked on and Hart peered through the crack in the door. “Cooper?” He opened it wider, and she saw he was dressed in a thin shirt and shorts with slippers on. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I don’t have a lot of time, but you should know that the moment I walk through this door I can’t guarantee they won’t hold you as an accomplice.”

  Hart raised his eyebrows, his eyes scanning her until they stopped on her wounded calf. He kept the door open and stepped aside. “Then you should get in before one of my neighbors sees you.”

  The side door led to the kitchen, and Cooper sat on the first chair she could reach at the table. Hart locked the door behind him and flicked on one of the lights, retrieving a glass that he filled from the tap. Cooper downed half the glass in one gulp, the water wetting her chapped lips and parched tongue.

  “What happened?” Hart asked, taking a seat next to her at the table.

  “Farnes is dead.” Cooper took another swig and drained the rest of the glass. “I found evidence linking him, Marks, and McKaffee together, and I thought that since Marks had been used by the killer, Farnes was involved somehow. But he wasn’t.”

  “Christ, Cooper. You didn’t—”

  “No. But it was made to look like I did.” Cooper pushed the glass away toward the center of the table. “I almost did it.” She dove into the memories of rage and anger that had filled her senses only a few hours ago. The white-hot flash of vengeance that had coursed through her veins like lightning. “I kidnapped him, tied him up, beat his face to a pulp.” She curled her fingers into fists. “The bastard deserved to die.” And I should have been the one to do it.

  “Cooper.” Hart took hold of her hand, snapping her back to the moment. “You said the captain was involved with something, but it wasn’t the killer.”

  Cooper pulled her hand away, nodding. “You know the drug house we raided that was linked to the killer’s bank account we traced? Farnes and some other officers have been involved in making sure those meth labs stay off police radar.”

  “They’re turning a blind eye?” Hart asked.

  Cooper reached for her calf, wincing. “And getting paid for it. Farnes and a few others make sure no one comes snooping around, and the drug dealers get to spread their product to a growing customer base.”

  Hart reached down and examined Cooper’s calf. “We need to get that stitched up. My wife’s bag should be—”

  “Jason?” A light flicked on, and Hart’s wife, her belly bursting with child, stepped barefoot into the kitchen. Her eyes immediately fell to the scene of her husband cradling Cooper’s leg, and the unintentional intimacy caused Cooper to pull her leg away.

  “Katie,” Hart said, standing up, rushing to his wife’s side. “You should go back to bed.”

  But she peered around Hart’s body, her eyes falling on Cooper. “You must be Adila.” She offered a smile, and the restless pregnant nights crinkled the lines next to her eyes. She had a fragile face and a pixie haircut. By any standards, she was beautiful—and young, barely out of college by the look of her. She took the seat Hart had occupied and examined the leg. “You’ll definitely need some stitches.”

  “Katie, you don’t—”

  “Whatever happened, I don’t need to know,” she said, turning around to Hart. “My nursing bag is in the bathroom. Go and grab it for me.” Without a word Hart nodded and disappeared, leaving the two of them in the kitchen.

  Cooper caught herself staring at Katie’s stomach, and she looked away. “Sorry. I know I hated it when people stared.”

  Katie smiled, rubbing her belly. “It’s all right. I didn’t know you had any. Hart never mentioned it.”

  Cooper blushed, suddenly realizing she hadn’t spoken about her pregnancy to anyone in years. “I don’t. I’m sorry.” She kept her head down. “I don’t know why I mentioned it.”

  “Oh,” Katie said, biting her lower lip. “I didn’t realize… I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Cooper wasn’t sure if it was the word or the way she said it, but something about it struck a nerve, the same nerve the killer had plucked when he brought up the miscarriage. It was all just more of her past flooding back to punish her for a life she was never meant to live. But instead of burying it, she forced herself to hold it. “Thank you.” She smiled, looking back to Katie’s bump. “How far along are you?”

  “Almost ten months,” Katie said, exhausted. “I can’t wait for this lady to join us.”

  “It’s a girl?”

  Katie pressed her finger to her lips. “Jason doesn’t know. I wanted to keep it a surprise.” The glow of pregnancy radiated from her face. Cooper saw why Hart had married her. The girl had an innocence, a peaceful presence that made Cooper feel at ease. “Look, whatever this is, whatever kind of trouble you’re in, Jason will help. He doesn’t tell me much about his workday, but he’s said nothing but good things about you. He thinks you’re a great detective.”

  Was a great detective. But Cooper kept that thought to herself. “Thank you.”

  Hart re
turned from the bathroom with the two bags and placed them on the table for Katie to pull what she needed. With a limited supply, it was all Katie could do to clean and dress the wound, but Cooper was glad to have at least that.

  Once done, Katie packed up her supplies and pushed herself up from the chair. “You’ll need to go to a doctor to get that stitched up properly. And you’ll also need a round of tetanus and rabies shots if it was from a dog.”

  “Thank you.” Cooper smiled, and Katie kissed Hart on the cheek and disappeared back down the hallway. Once it was just the two of them again, Hart kept his distance, leaning up against the kitchen counter, while Cooper rolled down her pant leg. “You never told me you married a saint.”

  Hart offered a half smile. “I never thought she’d say yes.” He looked back down the empty hallway where she’d gone. “I never thought I’d be a dad.” He sounded frightened when he spoke and tucked his arms tight around his chest.

  Cooper remembered feeling the same way when she was pregnant. And once the father had disappeared, she felt the same fear that her mother had felt. Alone, broke, and a baby on the way. She didn’t want her child to grow up like her, never knowing her father, never having that presence in her life. Her. “It was a girl.”

  Hart perked up. “What?”

  Cooper picked the dirt from under her nails, keeping her head down, feeling lightheaded from the events of the night. “The miscarriage I had. The one the killer talked about in the note used for the daycare. It was a girl.” Hart remained quiet, and Cooper could tell she’d made him uncomfortable. “I’m sorry.” She rubbed her eyes, hoping he couldn’t see the tears rolling down her face. She wiped her nose, changing the subject. “Look, Hart, I shouldn’t have come here. You’ve got too much happening in your life. I’m toxic. You’re not.”

  “Cooper, I—”

  “No, you’ve done enough.” Cooper pushed herself to her feet. “I’ll figure it out—” And that’s when she saw the twist of his wedding ring, the same nervous tic he pulled whenever something was wrong. His face grew pale when they made eye contact.

  “I’m sorry, Cooper,” Hart said. “With the baby on the way,” he stuttered, “I needed the money.”

  Motion outside the front window caught Cooper’s attention, and she noticed a squad car on the street. Shock, pain, anger, and despair filled her all at the same time. She instinctively reached for the revolver in her waistband, and both she and Hart drew their weapons at the same time.

  “Put the gun down, Cooper.” Hart’s hand was steady, the wiry muscles along his forearm taut. “It’s over.”

  Cooper glanced between Hart and the converging units surrounding the house. She didn’t have much time. “How much did they give you?” She crept backward toward the door, and Hart followed, never letting the distance between them grow farther than what it already was.

  “Farnes just wanted me to keep an eye on you. That was it.” Sweat beaded on Hart’s forehead, and though his hand was steady, his voice trembled. “You just should have let the FBI do what they needed to get done. That’s all you had to do, Cooper. It didn’t have to be like this.”

  Two more cars stopped in front of the house, and Cooper’s eyes caught the flash of car keys on the counter to her right. “It still doesn’t. Think about your kid, Hart. Think about your wife.”

  “What the fuck did you think I was doing in the first place?” Hart snarled, and the steadiness in his hand wavered as his finger trembled over the trigger. “I needed to make sure my family had enough money so we wouldn’t get sucked into poverty. Nice neighborhood, nice schools, safety, it all costs money, Cooper. There’s no such thing as a free lunch.” Tears formed in his eyes, and one rolled down his left cheek. “Just put the gun down, Cooper. Please.” He clenched his teeth. “Don’t make me do this.”

  “Jason!”

  It was for only a second, but Katie’s shriek was enough to break Hart’s concentration, and Cooper reached for the keys and barreled out the side door, her focus on the police officers gathering at the end of the driveway.

  The muzzles of their pistols flashed in the night, and the bullets puffed clouds of concrete into the side of the house from the missed shots as Cooper sprinted to Hart’s car, returning fire. The revolver had a harsher kick than the Glock she was used to shooting, but she wasn’t concerned with the aim. The authorities already thought she had killed one officer, and she didn’t want to give them any more reason to kill her than they already had.

  Bullets vibrated through the frame of Hart’s sedan as she started the engine, the officers retreating to their vehicles. She shifted into reverse, and the headlights revealed Hart in front of her, gun in hand. Time froze for a moment, but when Cooper finally slammed the accelerator, tearing out of the drive, she watched Hart lower the weapon.

  The engine revved loudly, tires spinning smoke into the night air as Cooper raced down the sleeping residential street. The speedometer wavered between thirty and fifty miles per hour as she took sharp turns, doing everything she could to outrun her pursuers. For a moment she’d thought she’d outrun them since she heard no sirens, but she quickly realized why they hadn’t shown they were police. The news of Farnes’s death had already made it to his brother. And the officers chasing her down didn’t have any intention of taking her to jail.

  Tires screeched across pavement as Cooper turned a hard left, bending around a corner then flooring the gas pedal once she straightened out. The headlights of both cars flashed in her rearview mirror as she flew over a speed bump, the car jerking heavily from side to side. She kept her escape route sporadic, shifting down side roads, and never took her foot off the gas. The late hour kept the streets empty, and those she did pass quickly moved aside when they saw her approach.

  The sedan jolted forward from the sudden crash of metal on metal, and Cooper’s body jerked forward with it. When she checked the rearview mirror, she saw one of the squad cars riding her bumper. Another vicious jolt pushed her forward, and Cooper felt the wheel slip from her hands, and she careened left then right, trying to straighten the vehicle out. But in her attempts to correct her course, she lost speed, and the second car appeared on her right. The driver’s window was down, and he pulled a gun. He fired three shots, the passenger-side window shattered, and Cooper ducked, swerving hard left into the other lanes, which were thankfully empty of traffic.

  Cooper’s head was down for only a second, but when she brought it up, a road railing blocked her path. She jerked the wheel right and smashed into the squad car whose driver had fired the shots. Metal ground against metal, and she felt every bump and tear vibrate through the car’s frame as she struggled to keep steady.

  Her eyes fell to the speedometer, and her speed had slowed again, though her foot was still glued to the pedal on the floor. The squad car behind her rammed her again, and all semblance of order was lost as the three bounced along the highway like bumper cars.

  A structure on the left caught Cooper’s eye, and in a split-second decision, she swerved hard left into the parking garage. The lowered gate splintered into pieces as she drove through and swerved the car hard right, making sure it blocked the rest of the entrance.

  Cooper climbed over to the passenger-side door and shoved it open just as the two pairs of headlights from the squad cars pulled up behind her. She was already sprinting toward the exit when she heard the squeal of brakes and tires, followed by the quick slam of car doors.

  Gunfire exploded, and she heard the rhythmic tink of bullets collide with the parked cars inside the garage. Cooper ducked, pulling her revolver as she darted behind an SUV for cover. She jumped out from behind the front bumper and fired into the goons, forcing both of them to seek cover as well.

  Cooper glanced over to the exit stairwell and weaved behind the backs of cars, keeping her head low, moving toward the glowing signs. The gunfire echoed louder in the confined concrete space, and it wasn’t long before the loud pops morphed into a high-pitched whine, and all she felt was t
he thumping of her heart as she made one final sprint toward the exit. She emptied the chambers of her weapon and made her move, her pursuers giving chase as she sprinted out the stairwell door and into an alley.

  Every step forward sent a stabbing pain through her calf, and she felt the wrapping Katie had given her spill blood that ran down to her heel. But she didn’t stop or slow. She had to keep moving. She had to stay alive.

  Chapter 6

  It was three blocks before Cooper managed to lose them, ducking into a cluster of abandoned townhomes that had been bordered up, and forced the goons to give up their pursuit out of frustration.

  With her calf still bleeding, Cooper collapsed to her back, resting against the cool concrete. She pulled up her left pant leg to examine the dressing. She wiped away the blood as best she could, using the torn-off sleeve of her shirt, then wrapped the exposed wound tightly. When she stood, she lost her balance and slammed into the wall.

  Fatigue had curled its icy grip around her mind and body. She needed rest. Limping, Cooper backtracked through the old buildings, being mindful of remaining quiet. If the police found her now, she wouldn’t be able to elude them again.

  The night air was still warm when Cooper stepped outside, and the alley she entered was bare of people. Steam rose through grates in the ground, and trash spilled from a full dumpster and littered the pavement. Both ends of the alley were clear, but Cooper chose to head south toward the slums. The hordes of homeless and junkies wouldn’t pose as great a threat as the police.

  Cooper stuck to the dark alleyways and sidewalks on her journey, doing her best to hide the limp and blood beneath the cover of the night. Only the occasional car passed in the early morning hours, the thump of bass rattling the sheet metal of the trunk, slowing to take a look at her. But she kept her head down, blending herself into the surroundings, and no trouble came. With the ill-fitting clothes, the half-dazed walk, most people assumed she was just another junkie looking for a fix.