More than anything, he missed Riley. She was far more than a partner to him, she was a best friend, the kind of person that couldn’t be replaced. Every day there were dozens of things that happened that brought her to mind, twice as many that he wanted to call and tell her about.
Beyond that though, he just wanted to be free of the feeling that he had to hide from the world. He enjoyed Billie and was growing accustomed to the night shift, though he wanted those things to be a choice, not a self-imposed exile.
“I wasn’t even here you know,” Reed said, his voice having fallen away to just a whisper.
“Hmm?” Mehdi asked, turning her head to look at him, her torso remaining against the side of the car.
“When it happened,” Reed said, avoiding her gaze, lowering his head so his eyes were aimed at the ground. “I’m guessing you see me and think I have survivor’s guilt or something. I know that’s what most people assume.”
“I don’t assume anything, Reed,” Mehdi replied. “Every person is different, sees things through their own lens.”
Reed knew what she was saying was true. Rarely if ever had she prodded him, letting him share or withhold as much as he wanted. For the first two weeks they had barely spoken at all, just taking turns throwing a ball for Billie.
Never before had he said any of this to anybody, the anguish he felt inside too much to allow it. There was no reason for why he felt the need to do so now, beyond perhaps the events of the week or maybe even the end of their time together.
“She had bought me tickets to the Rose Bowl for Christmas,” Reed said, raising his eyebrows, letting the movement pull his head up to face the horizon. “I was in California when I got the call, curled up in a cheap hotel room trying to sleep off an entire day of tailgating in the Los Angeles sunshine.”
He paused for just a moment, reliving the moment he got the news, thinking about how the next days, months, had been spent in a daze, trying to come to grips with it.
“Last night when we finally cornered our suspect, he told me that the worst part of everything that had happened to him was that he couldn’t do anything to stop it,” Reed said, glancing over at Mehdi beside him.
“I understood what he was saying. I’ll never condone what he did, but in that moment, I kind of got it. There is nothing in the world worse than feeling you might have been able to do something, if only...”
He let his voice trail away there, the words just seeming to evaporate. There was nothing left for him to say, no other sentiment that needed sharing.
Reed knew better than to believe that one week was suddenly going to change things, that he could now start discussing his feelings at will. This was a first step in what would hopefully be many.
As if she sensed what he was thinking beside her, Mehdi reached out and placed a hand on his arm. She left it there a moment, offering a half smile, before turning and headed towards her car.
Reed let her get halfway there without moving, the sound of her boots fading behind him before turning, his hands still shoved into the pockets of his sweatshirt.
“Maybe you could still stop by from time to time, just to say hi, toss the ball around with us?”
At the sound of his voice Mehdi turned around, walking backwards as she continued on towards her car. She smiled and shrugged, her shoulder rising far enough to ruffle the hair hanging down on either side of her face.
“You’re welcome.”
Reed nodded once in response, one corner of his mouth turning upwards, the doctor knowing exactly what he was trying to say without him saying it.
“Oh, and doc?” Reed said, Mehdi’s eyebrows raising as she continued to move away. “Your book-on-tape suggestion was dreadful. Might want to reconsider ever using that one again.”
A smile crossed both their faces as they turned in their respective directions, neither one saying a word.
The late afternoon sun was warm, the first sign of a new season a long time in coming. Reed felt it on his skin as he exited the car, peeling off his hooded sweatshirt and leaving it behind on the driver’s seat.
“Come on,” Reed said, pulling the backseat open and letting Billie spill out, not bothering to clip her to a lead as they walked across the open expanse of grass.
In the distance Reed could hear birds exchanging playful banter, could smell the sweet scent of damp grass.
Beside him Billie bounded along, her large body lifting itself from the ground in jaunty movements, her front and back halves working in perfect harmony. Her tongue hung from her mouth as she twisted and writhed, begging for his attention, enjoying the freedom of being off the leash with room to roam.
A smile crept to Reed’s face as he closed his eyes and lifted his head towards the clouds, feeling the rays of sun on his skin. He held the pose for a long moment before he walked on, the soft ground beneath his feet cushioning each step.
Never before had he been to the meadow, though he knew exactly where he was going. More than once he had heard details about the place, how it was situated, what was found there. Without thinking about it he aimed his path for the cherry tree standing alone in the back corner of the field, specks of green starting to line its branches, their sweeping length hanging almost to the ground.
The sight of it enhanced the smile on Reed’s face as he drew closer, the shade of the tree stretched out across the ground, beckoning him forward. It remained in place as he walked up, seeing the single grey slab on the ground at the foot of it.
Being buried in this meadow, under this tree, was always to be Riley’s last request. No matter how much he missed her, no matter how much he wished that she was still there with him, no matter how much pain he felt seeing her name on the stone for the first time, just knowing her final directive had been followed brought him some small modicum of joy.
“Hey,” Reed said, walking up to the stone and resting a hand on it, the cool feel of it passing through his palm. “Sorry I haven’t made it out here earlier, but I brought somebody along that I thought you should meet...”
Turn the page for a sneak peek of The Good Son, book two in the Reed & Billie series.
Sneak Peek
The Good Son, Reed & Billie Book 2
Prologue
Hearing the thick Velcro straps rip free was a welcome sound to Reed’s ears as he shrugged out of the Kevlar vest, letting it fall to the ground, the world instantly 10 degrees cooler. The t-shirt he had worn under the vest was soaked, the breeze hitting the damp cotton, helping to lower his body temperature.
“Man, that feels better,” Reed said, closing his eyes and lifting his face to the sky. The new angle allowed sweat to stream down his face, a direct result of the situation he was just in, completely independent of the chilly October weather.
Around him, the world was nothing short of chaos, a half dozen responding units from various precincts in the city having arrived in force. Standing with his eyes closed, he could hear people moving about, radios spewing orders and coded cop talk, car doors opening and closing as fellow officers wrapped up the scene.
If he cracked open his eyes for even a second, he knew he would see the world through red-and-blue strobe lights bouncing off everything.
“Striking a pose over here?” a familiar voice asked, bringing a smile to Reed’s face.
He turned at the sound, wiping the sweat from his eyes before opening them to find his partner, Riley Poole, walking his way.
Unlike him, she appeared no worse for wear, untouched by the events of the previous hour. Her Kevlar had also been stripped away, leaving her in a pair of jeans and sweater. If not for the gun and badge strapped to her hip, she would have appeared ready to see a movie or grab dinner, the same as she did every time Reed saw her.
How she managed to pull that off was anybody’s guess.
“Just thanking the heavens we made it through again,” Reed said.
“Yeah, well, luckily the heavens saw fit to send me down here to watch over you,” Riley said, sidling up bes
ide him. Folding her arms over her chest, she leaned back against the side of the sedan they shared, raising one foot and bracing it against the rear door.
“Oh, is that how it went?” Reed asked, allowing some mirth to creep into his voice as he assumed a matching stance beside her.
“You remember it happening another way?” Riley asked, keeping her attention aimed at the activity surrounding them. Fifteen minutes before, it had been just the two of them. Now, they were nothing more than an afterthought as they stood and watched the clean-up crews work.
Twice, Reed opened his mouth to respond, glancing over at her profile, the multi-colored lights flashing across her pale skin, before thinking better of it. “Nope. That’s how it went.”
“Good answer,” Riley said, using her foot and hips to leverage herself up off the car. “Don’t forget to tell that to your mom when you call to let her know you made it out alright.”
Shaking his head from side to side, Reed let her get a few steps away before countering, “My mom doesn’t even know we were involved in this mess. Better to keep it that way than have her worrying.”
At that Riley stopped and turned, before finally saying, “Fine, call and tell her I made it out alright.”
Chapter One
The Good Son left his muddied boots on the floor by the back door. He could smell the sour scent of his gym socks as he padded through the house, unavoidable given the oppressive summer humidity hanging like a wet blanket across the Midwest. It had arrived around the first of June and, as yet, showed no signs of letting up, The Good Son growing accustomed to his shirt perpetually clinging to his back.
The decision to leave the boots behind, though, had nothing to do with the summer heat, even less to do with any form of manners. Instead, it was a precautionary measure, meant to ensure that the hardened treads didn’t echo through the silent house, giving away his presence before he was able to accomplish what he had come to do.
Time was beginning to run short. He could not afford to lose this opportunity over something so foolish.
Walking heel-to-toe, The Good Son eased his way from the back door through the kitchen. The smell of fried pork chops and collard greens was just beginning to dissipate from dinner a few hours before, the aroma tickling his nostrils, making him very aware of the meal he had skipped.
His heart rate increased as he silently beseeched his stomach not to vocalize any sort of request as he stepped quickly past the aging appliances and polished Formica countertops into the living room.
The floor underfoot shifted from linoleum to threadbare carpet as The Good Son stood in the doorway and surveyed his surroundings. The curtains were drawn tight over the windows, just a hint of orange hue visible behind them from the streetlight out front.
Like the kitchen, the living room was clean, though extremely dated. A well-worn sofa dominated the room, the fabric something akin to velour or velvet. A coffee table piled with tattered magazines, an old box television, and a pair of comfortable rocking chairs gave the space a lived-in look.
As he passed through the room, three framed photographs caught his eye – each of the same man and woman. The first was a wedding picture; the second showed the happy couple, older now but still smiling for the camera; and the third was the elderly pair, still arm-in-arm, but without the same spark of the other two.
Closing his eyes tight, The Good Son looked away from the photos. He balled his hands into fists and squeezed until small explosions of orange and yellow appeared behind his eyelids.
Only then did the tension leave his body, a deep breath passing over his lips.
He could not allow himself to focus on the photographs, to think of what he was doing as anything more than a means to an end. If he did, he ran the risk of losing his nerve, something he could not afford to let happen right now.
The Good Son went to the couch and grabbed the largest throw pillow.
Sweat streamed down his face and along his forearms, worse than any heat or humidity alone could ever bring about.
Feeling the shortness of breath in his chest, The Good Son stepped down the narrow hallway, ignoring even more family pictures hanging on the wall beside him.
It was not the first time The Good Son had been inside the home. He knew exactly where he was headed.
Halfway down the hallway the floor moaned slightly beneath his weight, stopping him where he stood. Gripping the pillow in both hands, The Good Son felt his body tense as he stopped and waited, listening.
The only thing more important than accomplishing his goal was not getting caught. If things went sideways, if nothing turned out as he envisioned here tonight, it would be a setback, but it would not be catastrophic. He could always try again.
If apprehended, though, that was the end of everything.
The thought brought a renewed jolt of purpose to The Good Son as he continued, reaching the end of the hallway. Stopping just short of the open door, he turned and peeked around the corner into a bedroom, moonlight filtering in through the windows illuminating the scene.
A dresser cluttered with random bric-a-brac, an old rocking chair, and a four-poster bed filled the room.
Everything exactly as it had been on his previous trip.
On the center of the bed lay a lone woman, her body motionless, deep in sleep. Positioned on her back, she drew in deep breaths, the sound finding its way to The Good Son’s ears, putting his mind at ease a tiny bit.
He had made it this far. Now all he had to do was complete the task.
Again, his heart rate spiked as he took a step forward, glancing down at the pillow between his hands. His fingers squeezed tight, his knuckles flashing white as he inched his way to the side of the bed.
Not once did the woman’s breathing shift, her slumber preventing her from even knowing he was there.
Just eight minutes later, he was gone.
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About the Author
Dustin Stevens is the author of more than 50 novels, the vast majority having become #1 Amazon bestsellers, including the Reed & Billie and Hawk Tate series. The Boat Man, the first release in the best-selling Reed & Billie series, was named the 2016 Indie Award winner for E-Book fiction. The freestanding work The Debt was named an Independent Author Network action/adventure novel of the year for 2017 and The Exchange was recognized for independent E-Book fiction in 2018.
He also writes thrillers and assorted other stories under the pseudonym T.R. Kohler.
A member of the Mystery Writers of America and Thriller Writers International, he resides in Honolulu, Hawaii.
Let’s Keep in Touch:
Website: dustinstevens.com
Facebook: dustinstevens.com/fcbk
Twitter: dustinstevens.com/tw
Instagram: dustinstevens.com/DSinsta
Dustin’s Books
Works Written by Dustin Stevens:
Reed & Billie Novels:
The Boat Man
The Good Son
The Kid
The Partnership
Justice
The Scorekeeper
The Bear
Hawk Tate Novels:
Cold Fire
Cover Fire
Fire and Ice
Hellfire
Home Fire
Wild Fire
Zoo Crew Novels:
The Zoo Crew
Dead Peasants
Tracer
The Glue Guy
Moonblink
The Shuffle
(Coming 2020)
Ham Novels:
HAM
EVEN
My Mira Saga
Spare Change
Office Visit
Fair Trade
Ships Passing
Warnin
g Shot
Battle Cry
(Coming 2020)
Standalone Thrillers:
Four
Ohana
Liberation Day
Twelve
21 Hours
Catastrophic
Scars and Stars
Motive
Going Viral
The Debt
One Last Day
The Subway
The Exchange
Shoot to Wound
Peeping Thoms
The Ring
Decisions
(Coming 2020)
Standalone Dramas:
Just A Game
Be My Eyes
Quarterback
Children’s Books w/ Maddie Stevens:
Danny the Daydreamer…Goes to the Grammy’s
Danny the Daydreamer…Visits the Old West
Danny the Daydreamer…Goes to the Moon
(Coming Soon)
Works Written by T.R. Kohler:
The Hunter
The Boat Man: A Suspense Thriller (A Reed & Billie Novel Book 1) Page 26