Kate looked up again and saw Scott talking to the boy, offering him a piece of whatever he had in his plastic bag. The two appeared to be chatting, pointing at the ducks on the pond. Kate couldn’t hear what they were saying, but her instincts told her Scott was up to no-good.
She texted Johnston again.
I think I found him. The animal killer.
What?
Come to Jamaica Pond ASAP.
He’s here.
Near the boathouse.
She knew the park was outside their district, but she was off duty. Calling 9-1-1 and trying to explain herself would be a waste of time. Johnston could do a lot more and a lot faster than she could right now.
And as she brought her eyes up from her device, she spotted the boy about to put the food into his mouth.
“No, drop that!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, which made her cough. Her vocal chords hadn’t fully healed just yet.
The man turned toward her, and so did the boy. Thankfully, he obeyed, but the man took off running, leaving the bag behind.
She jumped up and began pursuit. “Stop, now!” she yelled as she followed the path and started to bridge the hundred-yard gap between them.
A few seconds later, she bent down to pick up the bag he’d dropped earlier, and then continued. While her broken ribs hurt like hell, she pushed through the pain. She made good progress. Sure, her pace was nowhere near her regular performance, but she was steadily gaining on him.
Fifty yards.
“Scott! Drop to the ground. Now!”
But he didn’t. Instead, his body knocked over a woman coming from the opposite direction.
Shit. Hope she’s okay, Kate thought before ignoring her and refocusing on Scott, now thirty yards ahead.
When he stumbled, Kate seized the opportunity and tackled him, which made her yelp in pain. It hurt worse than hell this time.
“Shit!” she swore as she used the weight of her body to pin Scott on the ground, face-first. She dropped the bag she’d been carrying so that she could clutch her ribs.
Fuck that hurts.
She coughed.
Maybe the doc had a point when he said I wasn’t ready for duty yet.
“Will you get off me?” Scott said. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Is that so?” Kate said, realizing that passersby had stopped to stare. A young man had his cellphone out in front of him, more than likely recording what was happening.
I certainly hope I’m right, Kate thought to herself just as a broad-shouldered patrol officer on a bicycle arrived at the scene.
“What’s going on here?” he asked authoritatively.
Kate raised both her hands in the air but stayed atop Scott.
“Ma’am, can you please get off of him?”
“I’m Officer Murphy from C-11,” she said looking at the officer’s nametag, which read Harrison. “I’m off duty, but I believe this is the man we’ve all been looking for. The one who’s been killing animals in and around Boston. I can get off of him, but I don’t want him to get away. I’m in no condition to try and catch him if he runs again.”
Harrison frowned at her before reaching for his shoulder radio. A minute or so later, after some back and forth with his supervisor, Officer Harrison proceeded to cuff Mr. Scott.
Chapter Twelve
“Murphy, have a seat,” said Sergeant Bailey.
Kate obeyed, sitting across the desk from her supervisor.
As though a movie played in her mind, she thought about all the times she’d sat right here across from him during the last few weeks.
Way too many times for a single police officer.
But with her morning sickness episodes gone for good, and with Bower’s pranks far less likely to happen, she was hopeful her one-on-ones with the sergeant would become less frequent.
“The meaning of being ‘on leave’ didn’t sink in through your thick skull, I take it.”
Fuck, here it goes again.
“But, Murphy,”—he shook his head—“your theory checked out. I don’t know how you connected dots that the detectives didn’t, but you did it. So, good work. They found a long-range rifle with a silencer. The ballistic report came back positive. They found the snake and spiders…”
Kate was anxious to ask about getting her badge and gun back, but she didn’t want to put her foot in her mouth, so she kept quiet.
“All these years,” he continued, his head shaking. “Who knew my mother’s Halloween warnings about razor blades hidden in apples would be something I encountered at work in Boston. But this guy certainly took it up a notch, lacing food with pins and tiny shards of razor blades and a blend of snake and spider venom. Nothing like a fresh wound in your mouth to ensure the toxins make it straight into your bloodstream instead of being neutralized in your stomach. Well, he’s off the streets now, thanks to you, Murphy.”
“So, does that mean I’ll be reinstated?” she asked, unable to help herself.
“We obviously can’t keep you away from the job. I’m re-instating you, but only for desk duty.”
“Like Larson? But Sergeant—”
“For now!” His brown eyes were stern as he continued. “It’s simply not my call. The doc hasn’t cleared you yet is all.”
He stood behind his desk, indicating the end of their meeting.
“And for the record,” he added as Kate got on her feet, “you’re nothing like Larson. You’re a good cop. With a hell of a lot of potential.”
On her way home from the station, Kate stopped by a liquor store to grab a bottle to celebrate her reinstatement at work.
Just as she was browsing through the low- to mid-range whiskey, her phone beeped with a message from her newly acquired divorce lawyer.
He’s been served.
“Yay!” she said aloud. A short and stubby Hispanic man turned to squint at her, but Kate couldn’t care less.
Instead, she turned her gaze to the next shelf up, which held a much better selection to choose from.
The hell with it. This day is worth celebrating! And Kenny’s going to love my gift this time.
Kenny walked from the kitchen to the living room with two tumblers in hand, each containing a single ice cube. He sat down on the couch next to Kate then put the glasses near the bottle in front of them.
“I can’t believe you splurged on a bottle of Jameson Gold Reserve,” he told Kate.
“We only live once, and we have multiple reasons to celebrate today,” she said. “I don’t know if I’ll get any money out of this divorce when all is said and done, but one thing’s for certain: my own money will no longer be used to pay for fancy meals, hotel rooms, or other things I never even partook in!”
“Hear, hear.” Kenny poured a finger of the amber liquid in each glass.
“To this hell finally being over,” Kate said, raising her drink.
Kenny met her eyes, raised his glass, but then pulled it back toward him and paused. “No, Katie. To the start of a new chapter in your life. You’ve got a great future ahead of you. I just know it,” he said, clinking his drink against Kate’s. “To a bright future.”
Kate repeated the words and smiled at her uncle before bringing the rich, layered liquid to her lips and enjoying the warmth of it sliding down her throat.
“Shall we?” he asked her, excitement in his eyes.
Kate nodded as she got comfortable on the old couch next to him.
Kenny pressed play on his VCR remote, and an old episode of Adam-12 played on Kenny’s old TV set.
As the familiar characters appeared on the screen, she couldn’t help but reflect on her own life.
Who knew what would happen now…
With Matt out of the picture, she’d lost a part of herself, but it was an infected part. It had to go. She’d spend less time worrying about her home life. She’d be able to focus on work moving forward.
And that was all good.
As for the life she’d lost…
She briefl
y rubbed her stomach then decided that she wouldn’t dwell on it. It was probably for the best as well. She moved that sad memory into the same mental drawer where the pictures of her murdered family resided.
Since nothing could be done about it, she decided to move on and swore to herself to never let it become another endless source of nightmares for her.
Kate had enough tangible, life-or-death problems. She couldn’t afford the luxury of obsessing over the troubles that only lived in her mind.
So, after sipping her whiskey, she leaned her head against Kenny’s shoulder, letting his presence reassure her the way it had done so throughout her teenage years.
He stretched his legs out on the ottoman in front of him and then wrapped his arm around Kate before gently tapping her on the shoulder.
“Everything’s gonna be just fine. I’ve got you. You’ve got me.” After a short pause, Kenny added. “And if all fails, we’ve got Jameson.”
Kate smiled.
Everything’s gonna be just fine.
Excerpt from The Last Hope
Chapter 1
June 23, 2015
Kate Murphy
Secret Hiking Spot, Maine
Warm, salty air kissed Kate Murphy’s freckled skin as she sat, perched in surroundings that embodied her emotional state.
Early summer rays bombarded the ocean, forming tiny diamonds that sparkled in the distance. Mere minutes later, the same peaceful, glistening water would morph into powerful waves that crashed onto the jagged rocks one hundred feet below Kate’s dangling legs, pulverizing any debris that may have been floating along for the ride. She sipped her bottle of water while soaking in her favorite scenery. The soft chirps and warbles of a few birds accompanied her thoughts.
Life was pretty good these days, even though Kate’s latest attempt at becoming a detective had been rejected yet again, but at least now she was part of a different district. It meant fresh opportunities and new people. Maybe her next application would be approved.
Kate stood up, finished her drink, and then returned the empty stainless-steel bottle to her backpack. It clunked against her phone, which she dug out: it was 1:03 p.m. Five missed calls and one voicemail.
Weird.
The message must have come in during the past hour when she came into range. All she ever got around here was one bar, and it only appeared if the winds were blowing in the right direction (with no clouds on the horizon) and lucky leprechauns sprinkling their magical signal-boosting powder around her.
Crappy coverage.
She ought to change cell providers. Then again, there was something to be said for enjoying quiet time and being unreachable, especially when she was here.
She tapped her way to the voicemail screen. Unknown number. She pressed “play” and listened to it over speakerphone.
“Miss Murphy, I’m calling on behalf of Kenneth Murphy. My name’s George Hudson, and I’m the defense attorney who’s been assigned to your uncle’s case. He’s been arrested. He wanted me to let you know he’s currently being held at the Roxbury Precinct, accused of murder. Your uncle says he’s innocent, and I’ll do my best to prove that he is. Sorry for leaving this important message on voicemail. I would have preferred doing it in person, but your uncle said I might have a hard time reaching you, and I didn’t want to wait too long. I’ll give you a call later this week with more details.”
What?
Kate jumped to her feet, staring at her now-silent phone. Had she heard that right?
She listened to the message again, this time with the phone pressed against her ear.
She had to head back if she wanted to get enough cell coverage to do anything. Kate stashed her phone back in her bag, strapped it on tightly, and then ran the three miles she’d just hiked, back to her car.
When she reached her Subaru, it was already 1:45 p.m. She was starting to regret her decision to drive out-of-state on her day off. She was 170 miles away from the Roxbury station.
Kate drove fast on the winding, scenic roads, ignoring the breathtaking views she would usually savor. She far exceeded the speed limit, mastering the unpaved bends like a professional race car driver. The driving skills she’d honed during police training certainly made drifting her Impreza even more fun than before, but this time her mind was on autopilot.
Why was Uncle Kenny accused of murder? He was the last of her living relatives, the only human being she felt connected to and loved by. He couldn’t have killed anyone.
After fifteen years of psychotherapy, Kate was mostly over the gory memories of finding her own mother, father, and little brother murdered in their family home, throats slit, her mother half-naked and raped, and blood dripping down the kitchen walls.
Today was June 23rd, the twentieth anniversary of that awful day. It was why she’d requested—and had been granted—a day off.
Kenny, her dad’s older brother, had taken Kate in when she was thirteen years old. He didn’t have children of his own, so he and his wife, Lucy, had decided to adopt her. They’d done the best they could to protect and help her get over her horrible loss and trauma. The therapist’s bills had been expensive, especially on Kenny’s welder’s salary. Lucy’s chain-smoking had quickly ruined her health. She’d died of lung cancer when Kate was twenty-three. Tragedies seemed to occur every decade for Kate, and now, at the age of thirty-three, her uncle was in jail. And for murder? Kenny was all she had left in the world.
He couldn’t have killed another person, could he? No, no way.
A white-tailed deer crossed the road two hundred feet in front of her, snapping Kate’s attention away from the past and returning it to the present. She knew this part of the countryside like the back of her hand. Another two miles and she’d be on paved roads, and then it’d be five more miles to the state highway where she could get decent cell reception.
When she finally reached the end of the cellular dead zone, Kate pressed the voice command on her steering wheel.
“Call the district commander at the Roxbury police station.”
Siri confirmed her request, and then Kate heard a ringing sound, followed by Susan’s British accent. “Captain Cranston’s desk. How may I be of service?”
“Hi, Susan. It’s Officer Murphy.”
“Yes. Kate, right?”
“Yeah. I got a voicemail from a lawyer saying my uncle, Kenny Murphy, has been brought in for murder and he’s being held at our station. Can I talk to the captain and find out what’s going on?”
“He’s in a meeting right now, and there’s a queue of people waiting to see him, but I’ll let him know you called.”
Kate tapped her fingers on her steering wheel and shook her head.
A message wouldn’t do much to help Kenny... but that’s all Susan could do.
“I’m on my way to the station. I should be there in about two hours. Do you think he’ll still be around?”
“I don’t know, love. Unsure how long his meeting will be, but doubtful he’ll stick around after it’s over and he’s done seeing these other fine folks. But who knows? You might be able to catch him on his way out. I’ll leave him a note to call you back ASAP.”
“Thanks, Susan.”
Kate returned her focus to the road, sneaking intermittent glances at the phone in her cup holder, and hoping he’d call her back. Then again, why would he? That wasn’t proper. She wasn’t following the chain of command. She had no right to go to him directly. As far as she knew, there was no official police handbook designating the appropriate person for police officers to talk to when their loved ones were arrested for murder. When she’d first joined the district, Capt. Cranston had told her that his door was always open. She hoped he’d meant it.
A giant billboard promoting Clark Ferguson, a handsome, brown-haired Boston mayoral candidate with a million-dollar smile, welcomed her to Massachusetts. Kate still had a solid hour of driving to get to Roxbury and traffic could be wicked bad. She checked the clock on her dash again: 3:30 p.m.
&
nbsp; Today’s Tuesday.
She might just get there in time to see Capt. Cranston before he left for the day.
Seventy-five minutes later, Kate veered into the station’s lot, parked her car, and then ran three flights of stairs to the district commander’s office, only to find it empty and locked.
Shit. Too late.
She wouldn’t be able to hear the official word on Kenny’s arrest, but she should still be able to talk to her uncle and learn what they’d told him and see if he was doing okay. The poor man was probably scared to death.
She made her way down to the detention area and found the officer on duty; his name tag read “Reynolds.” She recognized his face but couldn’t remember his first name.
Dave? Don? Dean? One of those “D” names.
“Hey, Reynolds.”
“Hey, Murphy. What brings you here? Aren’t you supposed to be taking a few days off?”
She smiled. She’d only been here a couple of weeks, but being a female officer seemed to help her male counterparts remember her name... and her schedule? Maybe it had nothing to do with being a woman in a man’s world. Wasn’t it always easier for any group to remember the new kid’s name?
“Today was my only day off. I got a message telling me my uncle has been arrested and is being detained here. Do you have a Murphy in the cell?”
“Let me see. I’m just here for a few minutes covering for Matthews. Bad burrito,” Reynolds said with a laugh. He then looked at Kate and became serious again. He returned his attention to the computer screen. “Don’t know who he’s got in here. Let’s see... Kenneth Murphy?”
“Yeah, that’s him. Can I see him?” Kate asked.
“Sure, do you need an escort?”
The Last Lies (Kate Murphy Mystery Book 1) Page 15