Footsteps pounded on the frozen ground as I opened my door, stood behind it, and steadied my gun over the top. The door wouldn’t offer a lot of protection, but it was better than standing in the open. The car screeched off, a severe mistake on the driver’s part since the roads were slick. He spun, and I fired at the front tires. A shot rang out to my left, and the bullet pinged off the hood of Dave’s car as a figure dressed in black raced toward the Lexus. I heard Dave yell as I sprinted down the roadway. The car was still spinning when I tackled the running guy, bringing us both down on the pavement hard. I heard his breath swoosh out, followed by a loud thud. A gun went flying across the pavement. I couldn’t tell if it was his or mine, and I didn’t have time to check as the car had finally lined out and was headed straight toward us. Gunfire came from behind me, and the windshield shattered.
Good shooting, Dave.
Instinct told me to run, but I ignored it. They were still looking for whatever Kyle had taken, and if they hadn’t found it yet, then they didn’t want me dead. The car swerved in time to miss me. Dave continued to fire as sirens blared on Maston and headed our way. I turned my attention to the guy beneath me, noticing for the first time the patch of red seeping into the snow. “Shit.” I felt for a pulse. Weak, but still alive. “I need an ambulance, Dave.”
Blue lights flashed as patrol cars skidded to a stop a few feet away. None of them had the common sense to follow the car that was speeding around the corner. I could hear Dave on the radio as officers spread out around us. He flashed his badge on the way to where I was kneeling. “You all right?” He passed me my gun which I’d lost in the tussle.
“Yeah, but I’m not sure he is.”
Greg Stevens jogged up beside us at the same time the ambulance arrived. “We checked the residence at 408 Maston. Real mess in there. Left two officers standing guard when we heard the shots.”
“Send someone to the hospital with him and let me know as soon as he wakes up.” I sighed heavily and started across the snow. “If he wakes up.”
“Where are you going?” Dave called out.
“To check on Mrs. Anderson. Bring the car around.”
I didn’t believe in ghosts, spirits, or demons, but an odd feeling always washed over me when I entered a building housing a dead body—a coldness that seeped into my bones. The back door was open, and I stepped to the side, gun drawn. “Mrs. Anderson? Kiser?”
I gulped a mouthful of air, not realizing I’d been holding my breath, hoping to hear sounds from inside. Entering the back door, I quickly moved to the side, my gaze darting around, searching the shadows. I didn’t expect any of the hoodlums to still be around, but it was better to be safe than sorry. “Mrs. Anderson?”
Stepping lightly, I moved from the washroom into the kitchen. A sweet cloying smell of fresh-baked cookies filled the air. A trail of blood started in the center of the floor and continued into the next room. I shivered, hesitating for a moment. Finding the body of a stranger was different from finding the body of someone I knew.
I took another deep breath and crossed the room, sidestepping the red. Kiser lay in the middle of the living room floor, where he’d dragged himself to the edge of the armchair. A small grunt caught my attention, and I raced across the room. Relief made my legs weak as I stared into the terrified eyes of Janet Anderson. She’d been tied and gagged, and blood seeped from an open cut on her forehead. “Thank God you’re all right.”
Heavy pounding came from the front door. “Come through the back, Dave, and we need another ambulance.”
My fingers struggled with the ropes binding her legs and arms. I should have removed the gag first, but I couldn’t bear to hear her sobs. Dave rushed in from the back of the house. I gave up on the ropes. “Unlock the front door for the paramedics, then untie her. I’ll check Kiser.”
Kneeling beside the huge German shepherd, I placed a hand on his side. He was still breathing, but he’d lost a lot of blood.
“There’s white sheets in the closet,” Mrs. Anderson croaked when Dave removed the gag. “You need to stop the bleeding.”
I didn’t know if it would do any good, but at least it would make us both feel better. I hurried to the closet and grabbed the first white thing I saw. Kiser tried to lift his head as I pressed the cloth against the jagged knife wound. “Shh… relax, big guy. Help is on the way.”
Dave had finished untying Mrs. Anderson, and she flopped on the floor beside me. “He tried to protect me.” Tears were coursing down, like tiny streams in the deep crevices of timeworn wrinkles on her face. “Bastard stuck a knife in him.” She smiled at me through her tears as she stroked the fur along his back. “Didn’t stop him, though. He crawled all the way in here to make sure I was all right.”
For a moment, I wished I had Dave’s faith in God. It was too late to pray for Kyle, but I wanted Kiser to live… more than I’d wanted anything in a long time.
The paramedics arrived, and Mrs. Anderson was carted off to the hospital, but not before she made me promise to do everything humanly possible to save Kiser. She’d pointed out the photo albums containing his baby pictures and whispered, “He’s all I have.”
“I don’t know what to do, Dave.”
“Vet’s on his way. Found his name in the little black book she kept by the phone.”
The quaint idea of a home phone and little black book struck me as funny, and hysterical laughter threatened to break through my resolve. I had to keep it together, at least for a little while longer. There was the mess at my house to deal with, and from what Officer Stevens had said, it would take the rest of the night to clean it.
Dave passed me his handkerchief. “Wipe the blood off your hands. You smeared it through your hair.”
I wiped my hands and sighed. Six hours had passed since I’d ignored my gut instincts and answered that call of a body found at the river. That same gut instinct screamed that things were about to get worse. “I think it’s time you had a serious talk with your friend Jesus, Dave.”
CHAPTER FIVE
First thing in the morning for Commander Park meant being at his office by seven o’clock. That didn’t mean he would see anyone at seven, though. Dave and I had been sitting in the outer office for almost an hour.
“Muster up some tears before we go in there. You look like crap.”
“Thanks, partner. I can see why Martha loves you. You know just what to say to make a woman feel great first thing in the morning.” I cradled my cup of coffee between my hands. Crap was a nice word compared to what the mirrors told me. A sleepless night on Dave’s couch, combined with the fact forensics wouldn’t let me inside my house for clothes or essentials, had resulted in frizzy hair, wrinkled clothes, and a bad disposition. I wasn’t worried about what Commander Park had to say. He wouldn’t fire us or suspend us. We were good at our jobs, and that gave us job security even if we occasionally broke the rules. What I hated was wasting time. I wanted to get to the hospital and interview our suspect, and I still needed to contact the Wilsons about Simon.
“Commander Park will see you now.” Sharon Thomas, the office secretary, stood beside her desk, waiting to show us the way. “I was sorry to hear about your brother, Kacy.”
News had spread fast. I murmured the proper thank you for her condolences and followed her to the huge oak door, which was closed. She knocked and waited for the customary greeting to enter. Formalities. Park was always looking for ways to conserve time. I’d often thought about telling him that cutting out the stupid formalities would save a bundle.
Sharon opened the door and stepped aside to allow us to enter. Then she would close the door behind us. As if we couldn’t close the damn door ourselves.
I forgot my irritation at the formalities as a bigger irritation met my eyes. Park’s office was split into what I called “the comfort zone” and “the poor section.” A plush leather couch and armchair awaited visitors he wanted to impress, and wooden chairs for those he considered not worth the effort. My father was seated i
n the armchair.
“What’s he doing here?”
Park ignored my question and waved Dave and me to the wooden chairs. “Have a seat, Detective Lang. You, too, Capello.”
I threw caution out the window. It wasn’t the first time I’d treaded on dangerous ground with Park. The sight of my father had incensed me to the point that I didn’t care. I moved to the couch and took a seat. “You haven’t answered my question. What’s Kurt Lange doing here?”
Park’s eyes darkened, but the smile never left his face. “Your father has offered his assistance in helping us with your brother’s case.”
So that’s it. Park was pissed because he didn’t know Kurt Lange was my father. He’d probably spent the first half hour searching his memory for any infraction toward me. Dumb ass.
Dave raised an eyebrow and took a seat beside me on the couch. “Might have been helpful if he’d offered that last night.”
I didn’t mind drowning in my own stupidity, but I sure as hell didn’t want Dave to drown with me. I kicked his foot, a subtle warning, as the veins in Park’s neck stood out, and a red stain crept around the collar of his shirt. “Sorry, Commander. Dave and I had a rough night, and we’ve only had a couple of hours sleep.”
“It may be difficult for you to believe, Kassandra, but your mother and I are devastated by Kyle’s death. We’ll do anything we can to help.”
I kicked Dave again, noting the stiffening of his body as Kurt’s words from the night before echoed inside my head. “Kyle has been dead to us for several years, Kassandra.” I turned my attention back to what Kurt was saying.
“I was unaware last night that Kyle had contacted your mother last week. Otherwise, I would have told you.”
Either the coffee kicked in, or his words had the effect of clearing the fog from my brain. “What did he want?”
“Money.” Kurt rubbed a hand over his eyes. “That was all Kyle ever wanted when he would contact one of us.” His cold blue eyes stared into mine. “We turned him down for his own good. We naturally assumed he contacted you for help.”
“I haven’t heard from Kyle in four years. I didn’t even know he was still in Chicago.”
A shadow darkened in Kurt’s eyes for a moment, and his jaw tightened, but his voice was even and soft. “I stopped by Simon Wilson’s this morning, but the neighbors say he was picked up by the police last night.”
Commander Park glared at us. “There’s no record of a Simon Wilson being picked up last night. I’m assuming the two of you had something to do with that?”
My mind was reeling, and bile was inching its way up my throat. Why would Kurt go by Simon’s and not the hooker’s? Unless he already knew the hooker was dead. “The neighbors were wrong. Dave and I went by there, but someone beat us to it. A black Lexus was speeding away as we parked. I planned to contact his parents today.”
Commander Park relaxed, but Kurt was still eyeing me suspiciously. “I spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Wilson last night. They’ve been in Africa and haven’t heard from Simon in months.”
The bile made its way to the top, and I dashed toward the Commander’s bathroom, not bothering to close the door as I knelt in front of the commode. It wasn’t planned, but there was nothing like the reek of vomit to break up a meeting. I could hear the commander’s voice in the background as I heaved and retched.
A door opened and closed, and Dave appeared in the bathroom doorway. He emptied my coffee cup and filled it with water. “You need any help?”
I shook my head, took the cup, and rinsed my mouth. “Are they gone?”
Dave chuckled. “You sure know how to clear a room, partner.” He helped me to my feet and shook his head slowly. “Commander walked your father out. He’ll be back in a minute.”
Another lesson I’d learned from Dave—the commander taped the meetings in his office and had a habit of leaving for a short time during discussions to see what his detectives would say while he was gone. I grabbed a paper towel, wet it, and wiped my face. I could give him something to think about and pass on to my father.
“Damn it, Dave, we should have followed that Lexus last night. We need to find Simon Wilson before he winds up in the river too.”
Dave caught on quickly. “The commander’s not gonna let us work this case, Kacy. He’ll put you on leave and pair me up with a nitwit.”
I walked back into the main office and flopped in one of the wooden chairs. “I’ll ask Dad to have a word with him. With the Senate race coming up next year, this needs to be kept low-key. No one will do that like you and me. Besides, I need to talk to Mom and see if Kyle said anything else.”
Dave took the chair next to mine, his head lowered as he stared at his shoes. “Shame he didn’t call you. Whoever did this worked him over.”
There was a thin line between sharing enough and sharing too much. I wanted to stay on the case, and the more I convinced Park my parents might be in danger, the better the odds he would let us work it. “I spoke with the ME this morning. They did a number on his girlfriend too. I need to let Mom and Dad know they might be in danger.” I lowered my head to my hands and faked a sob. “I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to them.”
Dave placed an arm around my shoulders and placed his lips close to my ear. “Don’t overdo it, kid.”
We sat in silence for another five minutes before the door opened and Commander Park walked in.
“Blow your nose.”
Dave stuffed his handkerchief in my hands, and I swiped at my eyes and blew my nose loudly. “Sorry.”
Park took his seat behind the desk. “I should take you off this case, Detective Lang, but your father has asked me to let you stay on. He seems to think if anyone can find the men who killed your brother, you can.”
“Thank you, sir.” I kept my eyes downcast. It wouldn’t do for Park to see the contempt I felt for him and my father.
“I’ll expect you to keep me informed.” He shuffled papers on his desk, a clear indication our meeting was over.
Dave and I stood and headed for the door. We’d almost made our escape when the commander spoke again. “If you know where Simon Wilson is, bring him in for his own safety.”
I didn’t bother answering. My gut instincts were kicking in. The last place Simon would be safe was in a jail cell.
CHAPTER SIX
“You want to talk about it?” Dave asked.
It was one of those words people used to describe the invisible elephant in the room—or the ousted family member whose name was taboo at all family functions. We’d both been silent since leaving the commander’s office.
Dave, with his hands in a death grip around the steering wheel and his eyes fixed on the icy roads, drove toward the hospital. I, on the other hand, sat quietly with my hands in my lap. At some point in time, everyone had an it in their life. The thing that led them to a therapist’s office for long hours of discussion about anything and everything but it.
I stayed silent too long, and Dave peeled his eyes from the road long enough to glower at me. “Well?”
“What do you want me say, Dave? My father had something to do with Kyle’s death? We can’t trust Commander Park? Shit’s about to get real?” I glanced in the side mirror, glimpsing the dark sports car three vehicles back. “Or the fact we have a tail and no way of knowing if the killers are watching or the commander put them on us?”
Dave took a left on Arbor Drive, his eyes on the rearview mirror. “Your brother have any other close companions we need to worry about besides Simon?”
“I don’t know. Druggies and thugs don’t make close friends.” The hospital loomed ahead, and I shivered as an icy hand clawed at my gut. “Have you talked to Stevens?”
Dave shook his head and whipped in to a parking space. “Want me to call him?”
I turned in the seat to watch the dark Porsche park three rows away. This is bullshit. I unclipped my holster and reached for my Glock with one hand while I jerked open the door with the other. I didn’t give Dave t
ime to question me before racing toward the vehicle. It would take my chubby partner at least a minute to hassle with the seat belt and climb out of the car. A minute was all I needed.
“Kacy!”
The driver’s window rolled down as I approached, and even white teeth flashed in a tanned, rugged face. “Your dad said you were smart.” He held a card out the window. “He didn’t tell me you were gutsy. Greg Primm, private investigator.”
I gave the card a fleeting look before lowering my gun. “What are you investigating?”
“Keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re safe.”
The guy in front of me immediately dispelled any doubts I’d had that Kurt Lange was involved in Kyle’s murder. I shoved the card in my pocket as Dave jogged up beside me. “Let me give you some advice, Mr. Primm. Go back to your office, home, or wherever it is you hang out. Take my father’s money, but stay out of my way, because if I see you again, I’ll arrest you for stalking.”
The smile disappeared. “You can’t arrest a private investigator doing the job he was hired for.”
I often wondered if I had Irish blood, because my rage simmered just below the surface. I leaned inside the car and smiled. “I can, and I will. And if that doesn’t stick, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.” I held his gaze long enough to ensure him I wasn’t kidding. “Let’s go, Dave.”
“What was that all about?”
“A private investigator my father hired to keep me safe.”
Dave snorted as we reached the front door of the hospital. “That was a dumb thing you did back there, Kacy.”
“I figured you’d be used to that by now.” I opened the door and held it for him. “I hope this guy gives us something.”
We stopped by the information area, and I explained the situation to the woman at the desk. “There should be a police officer stationed at his door.”
She punched in a few keys and nodded. “Mr. Strong. Room 323.”
The elevator was slow, and Dave whistled softly.
Honorable Death Page 3