Honorable Death

by Linda S. Prather

  “Even if it is Kurt, I don’t like it. They found a way in here once. What’s to stop them from getting in again?”

  I rubbed my eyes. “I’m getting worried about Charles and Melanie. We should have heard from them by now.”

  “Can you call them?”

  “I could, but I’d rather not. Thanks for reminding me, though. We need to pick up Kurt’s cell phone on the way out and call the telephone company and get a list of any calls in or out of the house last night.”

  “Should check the GPS on the car, too, and see if it went out last night.”

  Dave’s voice sounded tired, and I’d avoided mirrors whenever possible. “We’re both ready to collapse. I don’t care what Park says; we’re going home to sleep for at least four hours.”

  “What about Marcone and Culver?”

  I wanted to see Marcone again. I still couldn’t bring myself to think of him as my father, but I wanted to get to know him better. “It’s a confession. Let someone else take it. We have to get some rest.”

  “Let’s go find Park.”

  I peered over Dave’s shoulder. “We don’t have to. He found us.” Park was normally easy to read. He wore his emotions on his face and body like most of us wore our badges—out in the open for everyone to see. “I can’t tell if something’s wrong or he’s won the lottery.” We stood as he reached the table. “Commander?”

  “Lenglases is dead.”

  “Let Sims and Gardner take it. Dave and I are exhausted. We won’t be any use to you or anyone else unless we get some rest.”

  “May I finish, Detective Lang?”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “By all appearances, he wasn’t murdered. He left a full confession on the drugs in his warehouse and then hanged himself. I came here to tell you two to go home and get some rest. You’ll be on duty here tonight.”

  Marcone. “Thank you, sir. I’ll say goodbye to Katherine.”

  Dave fished his keys out of his pocket. “Want me to warm up the car?”

  I nodded, my mind numbed by the knowledge my real father was in all likelihood a murderer—again. “Grab my coat on your way out.”

  Most of the forensic team had moved their investigation upstairs, and Katherine was alone in the living room, stretched out on the sofa, with a washcloth over her eyes. I was about to make my escape when she tossed off the cloth and sat up.

  “I’m awake, Kassandra.”

  Gone was the loving tone. This was the Katherine I knew. “I came to tell you we were leaving. We’ll be back this evening.”

  “I understand you took certain items from your father’s bathroom. Explain yourself.”

  “It’s my job, Katherine. And it’s normal procedure. We needed a DNA sample for comparison with the… evidence you received.”

  Katherine’s laugh was harsh, and she reached for the wine glass on the coffee table. “You mean your father’s fingers.”

  The green in her eyes glittered, and she lifted the glass to her lips. I’d never realized before, but Katherine Lange hated me. “As I said, it’s normal procedure.”

  Katherine downed the wine. “This is all your fault, Kassandra. If you’d given them what they wanted, your father would still be alive.”

  The tiredness that had invaded my body washed away as anger surged to the forefront. “Two amputated fingers aren’t proof of death. And even if I had what they wanted, I damn well wouldn’t give it to them. The bastards killed Kyle. I’m going to find them.” I turned to leave as Katherine reached for the wine bottle.

  “A woman knows when the man she loves is dead. Kurt’s dead. You won’t need DNA evidence with the next body part.” She refilled her glass. “It’s only a matter of time before it’s me, you, or that chubby partner of yours. That will be your fault too.”

  “Maybe I’ll get lucky, and next time, it will be you.” I stormed past Hilda and out of the room, rage rippling in every fiber of my being. Cursing wasn’t the only issue with my mouth. I also had the habit of saying exactly what I thought without considering the consequences. I shouldn’t have said that. If something happens to her, I’ll be the first one Hilda points a finger at.

  Dave was listening to a rock and roll station, using the steering wheel for a drum set. I jerked open the passenger door, flounced into the seat, and slammed the door behind me. “Get us the hell out of here.”

  “You want to talk about it?” Dave backed up and turned around. “I don’t think you’re sleepy anymore.”

  “You want to know why I’m screwed up, Dave? Well, I’ll tell you. My brother was a drug addict who messed around and wound up dead, my adoptive father was a devious bastard who’s probably also dead, my adoptive mother hates me, and my real father is a murderer.”

  “We don’t know that your father killed Lenglases.”

  Only Dave could have taken my messed-up speech and picked the one thing that was ripping me up inside. “I sent him after Yoshe.”

  “Even if he killed Lenglases, I’d bet my life on one thing. He won’t harm a hair on Yoshe’s head, but he will break the neck of anyone that touches her.” Dave stopped in front of the ME’s office. “Because, as a father, that’s what I’d do.”

  Myriah’s car wasn’t in the parking lot, and Stevens was still waiting for her. “Looks like we’ll have to wait on that DNA test.”

  Dave’s eyes were locked on Stevens’s car as he unclipped his seat belt and reached for the door handle. “Stay here, Kacy.”

  “No!” The scream erupted from my lungs as I fought the seat belt in a blind panic. Not Greg. Please, God, not Greg. Dave was at the cruiser by the time my trembling, sweaty fingers managed to undo the clip. It took another frustrating minute of jerking on the handle for me to realize he’d locked me in. Sirens were blaring by the time I opened the door and ran toward Dave.

  “He’s alive, Kacy.”

  The underlying tone of Dave’s voice took the comfort from his words. “What did they do to him?”

  Dave held up a needle, his jaw hardening. “Overdosed him on heroin and left a shot of Narcan in his lap with a note. I need an evidence bag.”

  “Pop the trunk.” The ambulance was pulling in, and within seconds, paramedics were rushing our way. I dug through Greg’s trunk and pulled out a box of bags and a pair of gloves.

  Dave filled the paramedics in on what he’d done, slipped on the gloves, and picked up the note before we moved to the side to give them room.

  “What does the note say?” I asked.

  “Time is running out.” He stuffed the note and empty syringe in the evidence bag. “With a huge smiley face.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  “What time is it? Dave asked.

  “Eight.” I glanced to where Park was waiting to speak with us. It had taken over an hour to finish making our statements and turn the note over for fingerprint testing. “We might as well get it over with. We both know he’s taking us off the case.”

  Dave nodded, and we approached Park’s vehicle. He rolled down his window. “You wanted to speak with us, Commander?”

  “Who do you think did this?”

  “We pissed off the drug lords, but the note points to the people who killed my brother.”

  Park’s eyebrows knitted together. “I’m putting surveillance on the two of you for your own protection. I should put you both on desk jobs, but God knows I need you in the field. From this point on, I want you checking in every two hours. I’ll notify dispatch of that, and you can say ‘checking in,’ and they can give me a note.” He glowered at me. “Is that understood, Detective Lang?”

  “What if we’re in the middle of something and forget to check in, sir?”

  “There’s two of you. Forget to check in, and you’ll spend the next month at a desk.”

  Park rolled up his window and drove out of the lot. “I think he’s reaching a breaking point. What are you doing?”

  “Setting the timer on my cell phone. He’s worried, and if calling in helps us stay on the case, t
hen we’ll call in every two hours.”

  “What about sleep? I am not setting an alarm to wake up to call in and say I’m going back to sleep.”

  “From now on, we’ll take turns sleeping.” Dave headed for the car.

  “This is stupid, Dave. Checking in every two hours isn’t going to work. We could be dead for an hour and fifty-nine minutes, and he wouldn’t know it. It’s a waste of time.”

  “You need to get laid.”

  “What did you say?”

  Dave unlocked the doors and turned around. “I said you need to get laid. All you’ve done since we left your mother’s is piss, moan, and bitch. Our partner is lying in the hospital right now. Officer Moore is being buried this afternoon. And Myriah hasn’t shown up for work. The Wilsons haven’t called. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, dump the garbage about your family history, and give me back the Kacy Lang I’ve worked with for the last five years.”

  The truth was a hard pill to swallow, but because it had come from Dave, I had no choice but to gag it down. I moved toward the passenger side of the car. “You haven’t said ‘Jesus’ in over a day.”

  Dave buckled his seat belt and started the car. “Buckle up. Before this is over, I figure Jesus can’t go where we’re going.”

  I didn’t ask Dave where we were going. He was right, and until I stopped thinking of this case as a personal issue and came to grips with the fact it was my job, I needed to depend on him to make the major decisions.

  “You mad at me?” Dave asked.

  “No.”

  “Good. You got a list of suspects?”

  “Kurt and Katherine on Kyle’s murder, along with this Min Wong. I’d like to see the ME report on Lenglases. I find it hard to believe he killed himself. If he didn’t, then we’re looking at my—at Marcone. With Kurt’s kidnapping, if it’s real, then we’re back to Min Wong.”

  “And Greg?”

  “I think it’s Min Wong again, but it could be the drug lords. The ‘time is running out’ could have been Greg’s time from the overdose.” The question-and-answer sessions were what made Dave and me good at our jobs. “Lists of things to do?”

  “We’ll check on Myriah first, then we’ll find a way to get in touch with the Wilsons. After that, we’ll stop by the hospital and check on Greg.” He turned and smiled. “If you’re good, after that, I’ll let you have a nap before we begin round two.”

  My cell rang, putting off any scathing comment I might have made. “It’s Greg.” I slid the answer button. “Hey, partner, how are you feeling? My hand tightened around the phone, and I glanced at Dave. “Okay, we’ll see you at the house.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “They’re flushing his system and letting him go in a few hours. Park is there. Myriah was attacked when she left for work this morning. Three stitches in her head and a lot of bruises. Greg says she’ll be okay. We won’t be getting any DNA testing done today, though.”

  Dave did a U-turn. “How do we get in touch with the Wilsons?”

  “I’ll call their house and leave a message for them and ask them to call when they get a chance. I still don’t know if our phones are compromised or if their lines are tapped.”

  “Go ahead and do it while you’re thinking about it. We don’t know what we’ll run into in the next few hours.”

  I nodded, rang the number, and left a message for Melanie, telling her that I was thinking about her and asking what Simon’s favorite flowers were. “Do you need lunch before we go home?”

  “Not today. You were right—Hilda poisoned my pancakes. They were disgusting.”

  “You’re spoiled by Micky’s.” I glanced in the rearview mirror. “Know what I haven’t seen in a while?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “Anyone tailing us. And I don’t see the surveillance Park mentioned either.”

  “We’ll call him if there’s not a car at the house shortly after we get there.”

  I yawned and slouched in the seat. “Do you think we could get one of them to sit in the house, listen to us snore, and make those two-hour call-ins for us?”

  “I doubt we’ll get that lucky.”

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this bone-tired. Stevens had a key, so we didn’t have to worry about letting him in. “Do we need to run the scanner, or keep our mouths closed?”

  “Let them listen to us snore.”

  Dave parked, and the two of us trudged to the front door.

  I sighed as I waited for him to unlock the door. “Are we going to take turns sleeping?”

  “You care to leave your bedroom door open?”

  “Not if it lets us rest. I plan on sleeping in my clothes anyway. I’m too tired to take them off.”

  “I know the feeling.” Dave closed the door behind us and locked it.

  There’s an odd feeling about your home when someone who wasn’t supposed to be there has been in it—a sort of prickling of the hair along your neck and arms. Nothing is out of place. No strange odors. Just that creepy-crawly feeling like someone has gone through your underwear drawer. I chalked it up to extreme tiredness, and headed to my bedroom. “I’ll see you when I wake up.” The door wasn’t closed and creaked when I opened it, sending a shiver through me. “Jesus.”

  Dave chuckled from the kitchen. “About time you started praying.”

  “I think we’re wrong about Wong hitting Stevens and Myriah.”

  “What makes you say that?” Dave walked toward me, stuffing a ham-and-cheese sandwich in his mouth.

  I pointed to Kurt’s severed head in the middle of my bed. “Because that’s Wong’s work.”

  “Holy Mother of God.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  I closed the suitcase and took one final look around the bedroom for anything I might have missed. The forensic team was patiently waiting to once again rip my house apart, looking for clues. Kurt’s head had been removed, but the bloody stain remained. Damn them, I liked that bedspread.

  “You ready to go, kid?” Dave had stood in the doorway the entire time I was packing. Stevens wasn’t far behind, watching from a distance.

  “You two are making me nervous.” I picked up the suitcase. “Where is Park sending us?” Not that it mattered. Min Wong was a freaking ghost who could get in and out of houses without being seen. My neighbors would be furious after either being awakened or pulled from work for questioning.

  Dave motioned toward the front door. “We’ll talk about it in the car.”

  Stevens stepped forward and reached for the suitcase. “Let me take that.”

  “You just came out of the hospital, Greg. I can carry my own damn suitcase.”

  “She’s back!” Dave grinned and headed for the driver’s seat. “Now you’re gonna see some action.”

  “Are we talking Annie Oakley or Magnum PI?” Greg asked.

  “How old are you?” I tossed the suitcase in the back seat and opened the passenger door. “We’re talking Kacy Lang.”

  “I’m out of my league with you two, as I don’t understand a thing you’re saying half the time.” Greg climbed in the back seat and closed the door. “But thanks for sticking up for me.”

  Dave started the car and backed out of the driveway. “That’s what partners do, kid. Where to, boss? I don’t think my house is safe, and I doubt Greg’s is, either, and we’re not going where Park wanted us. I hate hospitals.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Thought we’d be safer in a room there. After what happened to Officer Moore, that ain’t gonna happen.”

  “We need someplace we can talk and rest. And we need to keep an eye out for anyone following us.” I was either about to find the perfect place or make the worst mistake of my life. Rummaging through my purse, I found the phone Marcone had given me. I dialed, and he answered before the first full ring.

  “Kacy? Are you okay?”

  “For the moment. We need a safe place to stay.”

  “Go to 630 Brookshire, West Chicago. I’ll let them know you’re comi
ng.”

  The line went dead, and I glanced at Dave. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yeah. You sure that’s a good idea?”

  “I think we’ll be safe. If he’d wanted us dead, he’s had several opportunities.” I turned to stare out the window.

  “What do you think he meant by ‘I’ll let them know you’re coming’?” Greg asked.

  “Hopefully, he has maids and a good chef.” I had no idea what Marcone meant, but if he did work for the Colombian Cartel, then most likely, it was armed guards.

  “We’ve got about an hour drive. Why don’t you two kick back and take a nap. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

  The notion of sleep was hard to resist, but if we wanted to stay alive, we had to stay vigilant and keep our eyes open. “You drive. Greg and I will watch the vehicles following us. I was wrong about Kurt. I could be wrong about our watchdogs having disappeared.”

  “What about our phones?” Dave asked. “If they’re tracking us through them, they’ll know where we are before we have a chance to get settled in.”

  “We won’t be there long. We need a good night’s sleep, and I don’t think even Min Wong would take on the cartel.” I studied the car passing us as a new one pulled in behind us from a side street. “I think we’ve got company. That same car passed us three blocks back, and I’ve seen the one behind us before too.”

  “Good spot.” Dave grinned and slammed on his brakes. The cream-colored Honda jerked to the right, plowing into a streetlight. “Want to stop?”

  I glanced in the rearview mirror as lights flashed and a siren turned on. “No, I think our boys have him. Give them a call, Greg, and tell him to hold him on whatever charge they can think up.”

  “They’ll have to catch him first.”

  The driver had exited the vehicle and was sprinting down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. “One down, at least one to go.”

  “Doesn’t look like he knows what to do now.” Dave guffawed. “Let’s see if he wants to play hardball.” He flipped on the lights and siren, and the dark-blue Lexus sped up and screeched around a corner.