The McKays Box Set - To Kill For, Blood Sport, Hard Time & Gang Land

by A. J. Carella

  “I’m a good listener if you wanna talk.” Finn hoped he wasn’t pushing too hard. “Sometimes it’s good to talk to strangers. Get things off your chest.”

  Drake was staring down at the table, drawing circles in moisture left there by his glass of beer. “What would you do if your family was bad but they were the only family you had?” he asked, without lifting his head.

  Finn was taken aback. He wanted to tell him to leave, run away and come back to Brecon Point with him—but of course he couldn’t, so he tried to answer honestly. “I think there comes a point when you have to do what’s right for you. You can’t live your life to keep your family happy and if they love you, they’ll understand that.”

  “And if they don’t?” He looked up at him and Finn could see the conflict in his eyes. “What if they don’t understand?”

  “Then they don’t love you enough.”

  Drake nodded slowly. “I think you might be right, you know.” He held up his glass. “Thanks.”

  “So, you got a wife at home?” Drake changed the subject.

  “No, not yet.”

  “And you’re just in town for a few days?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, in that case my wise friend, I think you need to see the best LA has to offer.” He grinned. “Your round, I believe.”

  Laughing Finn got up and went to the bar. It looked like it might be a long afternoon.

  ***

  The finest LA had to offer turned out to be a steady stream of strip joints, each more tawdry than the last, and none quite the father/son bonding experience Finn had hoped for.

  Finn paced himself but, even so, managed to have far too much to drink and by ten p.m., after several hours of drinking, he couldn’t take any more. “Look, Drake, I’m going to have to head back to my hotel. I feel a bit sick.” It wasn’t a lie; his stomach was roiling.

  Finn was staring up at a stripper in a G-string, writhing on the stage just a couple of feet from their table. “I’m gonna hang around here for a bit.”

  “Okay and hey, thanks for the tour.” Finn stood up, wobbling a bit until he got his balance. “It’s been fun.”

  Drake lurched to his feet, too, nearly knocking their table flying, before wrapping him in a bear hug. “It’s been great, man. Promise me next time you’re in town you’ll call me up.”

  It was just as well they’d exchanged numbers earlier in the night because Finn wasn’t sure either of them would be able to write straight. “And you promise me you’ll call me anytime you need anything.”

  “I promish.” Drake slurred, his attention returning to the stripper. Finn clapped him on the back before turning and slowly making his way past the other tables and out of the building.

  He didn’t have a coat as he’d left his in his car, which was still parked outside the first bar they’d gone into, and the cold sobered him up a bit. After standing on the street for nearly twenty minutes, he finally managed to hail a cab and collapsed into the back seat with a smile on his face. He’d finally met his son and he was impressed. He considered himself quite a good judge of character and it wasn’t hard to see that, despite his circumstances, he was a good man just trying to make the best of his lot.

  His rumbling stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten that evening, and where food should be, there was only beer. The hotel restaurant had been closed for a while so he ordered a sandwich from room service and considered calling Kat. He decided against it in the end. He was buoyed up on beer and happiness and he wanted to be able to share it. Knowing he couldn’t, he didn’t want to spoil the evening by having to lie to her.

  Stomach full, he lay back on the bed fully clothed, intending to just close his eyes for a few minutes before getting up and getting ready for bed, but his body had other plans and he was soon fast asleep.

  Twelve

  Angel didn’t think he’d ever been so angry in his entire life. It wasn’t even about Felicity; she was just a nice piece of skirt. Admittedly, it had been stupid, but he would never have had to tell Juan if it hadn’t been for Drake. They were supposed to be brothers. Yes, they hated each other, but when you’re in a gang, you’re brothers first and foremost and you keep each other’s secrets.

  He had broken the code, and in doing so had made him look a fool in front of Juan. Not only that, but now he was going to have to watch his step and Juan would be keeping an eye on him.

  What was he even doing there? He had no business being in the gang in the first place. He wasn’t cut out for it, did nothing for it, and just benefited from its protection. And Juan wouldn’t allow anyone to speak against him.

  He had every intention of having it out with him so he’d come straight here thinking this was where he would be, but there had been no sign of him so far. Angel smiled. Drake didn’t know he knew about this place, about the woman he was seeing. He’d found out purely by accident a few weeks ago. He’d noticed that Drake kept disappearing, so he’d followed him one day and he’d led him here.

  When he’d arrived, he’d gone straight upstairs and knocked on the door, too angry to think about whether it was a good idea, but there had been no one home. Deciding to wait, he’d parked the car in the parking area, making sure he had a good view of the front door. He’d been sitting there a couple of hours now, and although he’d seen a few people come and go, none of them had been Drake or his bit of skirt.

  He was just thinking about leaving when he saw her. She was driving an older model blue BMW and was pulling into a parking space near the front of the building. You’re out of your league with that one, Drake, he thought as he looked her over. She was wearing a form-fitting, black pencil skirt that ended just above the knee and a plain white blouse that did absolutely nothing to hide the fantastic body underneath.

  Maybe there’s another way to settle this. A plan was forming in his mind as he watched her lock the car and walk into the building. He’d seen the two of them together and you’d have to have been blind not to see how head-over-heels they were with each other. What would send a better message? Hurting Drake or hurting someone he loved? It was perfect, and it would teach him a lesson he would never forget.

  Smiling at what was to come, Angel stayed in his car for a little while longer, allowing her time to get inside and settled. She would feel safe in her own home. He was about to show her how wrong she was.

  Thirteen

  “Hello?” Shelby pushed the shower curtain aside and stood still and listened. She could have sworn she’d heard something, but after standing stock still for a minute, she couldn’t hear anything other than the sound of cascading water from the shower.

  You’re being paranoid, she told herself as she pulled the curtain closed and finished rinsing the soap from her body. It was late, past ten, but she’d stayed on at the office working on some documents her boss needed first thing in the morning. She’d thought about skipping the shower and crawling straight into bed, but she felt grubby from the grime of the city and knew she’d feel better once she felt clean again.

  As the last of the soap went down the drain, she turned the shower off and stepped out, wrapping herself in towel before grabbing a smaller towel to dry off her hair. She was rubbing it vigorously when she heard it again. Okay, Shelby, don’t panic, deep breaths. She wasn’t imagining it; she’d definitely heard a noise from within her apartment.

  She tried to listen, but she couldn’t hear anything over her own heavy breathing and the pounding of her heart in her ears. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. It’s nothing. Probably a mouse or something, she told herself as she put the hair towel down in the sink as quietly as she could. Slipping the bath towel off, she grabbed her robe and wrapped it round herself, tying the belt tightly.

  Her hand was shaking as she reached for the doorknob and quietly turned it, pulling the door open enough for her to see into the hall. Cautiously, she stuck her head out and, with a quick glance, confirmed that the hall was empty before quickly pulling her head back into
the bathroom and letting out a shaky breath. You’re being silly. Just go and take a look.

  She was just about to step out of the bathroom when she heard an unmistakable sound. Footsteps. There was somebody in her apartment! She knew it wasn’t Drake. He didn’t have a key and, for that matter, nor did anybody else. Think, Shelby!

  She’d left her cell phone on the kitchen counter when she’d gotten home from work. It wasn’t far, just along the hall and across the living room, but it may as well have been a hundred miles away. She had no idea who was in her apartment or where they were and, for all she knew, they could be sitting on her couch ready to pounce as soon as she walked in.

  Quickly, she ran through the options in her head. There weren’t many. She could risk it and try and make a dash for her cell and call 9-1-1, lock herself in the bathroom and hope they didn’t know anyone was home and wait for them to leave, or she could lock herself in the bathroom and start banging on walls to try and get help from her neighbours.

  The decision was taken out of her hands, though, as a voice cut into her thoughts.

  “Shellbbyyyy, come out, Shelllbbyyy.”

  Shocked, the blood chilled in her veins. He knew her name! Quickly, she slammed the bathroom door shut, no longer bothering to be quiet, and slid the lock before backing away to the other side of the room. Turning, she started banging on the bathroom wall and screaming for help, but the wall was tiled and it muffled her blows. Crying, she slid down the wall and sat on the floor.

  “Shelllbyyy, why don’t you come out to play?”

  The voice was right outside the door now, the only thing separating them a flimsy lock.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” Her voice shook and caught in her throat as she called out.

  “Don’t make me come in there and get you.” The voice taunted her, playing with her.

  “Get out of my apartment. I’m calling the police!” she bluffed, hoping he wouldn’t have found her cell.

  “Liar, liar, Shelby. That’s not nice. You’ve upset me, now.”

  There was a brief moment of quiet and then a loud crash filled the bathroom. Shelby screamed as the owner of the voice starting kicking the bathroom door.

  “Please, oh, please, just leave me alone.” She sobbed, knowing that he wouldn’t.

  With a final kick, the flimsy lock on the door gave way and it crashed open, revealing her tormentor standing there, grinning.

  Shelby tried to escape him by climbing into the tub, but it was futile. Laughing, he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet before dragging her out of the bathroom and down the hall into her living room. Letting go of his grip on her hair, he threw her to the ground.

  Coming to her knees, she touched her hand to her scalp and when she pulled it away, her fingers were bloody where he’d pulled out clumps of hair.

  “Take whatever you want, please. Just take it and go,” she pleaded, looking up at him.

  “Oh, I intend to. Don’t worry.” There was no mistaking the intention behind the words and if there was any doubt, the leer on his face made it clear.

  You are not going to sit here and let yourself get raped! Jumping to her feet, she ran. He was standing with his back to the kitchen, at the opposite end of the apartment from the front door. If she could just get there before he caught her, she could escape.

  It took him a couple of seconds to react, but he was soon racing after her and she could hear him getting closer. Nearly there! She was just feet from the door now, a few more steps and she would make it.

  She was reaching for the handle when he tackled her, throwing his full weight on top of her, sending her crashing to the ground.

  “Not so fast.” He panted into her ear as he pushed his knee into her back.

  Keeping his knee where it was, she heard him checking his pockets and give a satisfied grunt when he found what he was looking for. As the weight of his knee lifted, she risked a glance over her shoulder and saw that he was now holding a knife in his hand. Whimpering, she tried to crawl away, but he grabbed one of her legs and held it firm. In a single motion, he ran the blade across the back of her ankle and she immediately felt her lower leg go limp. The pain was excruciating, like nothing she’d ever felt before. It felt like her whole lower leg was on fire. She was so overwhelmed with it that she didn’t notice him grip her other leg, and it wasn’t until the pain hit from that one that she realized he’d done it again.

  A calm came over her then and she stopped struggling. She knew that her time was coming

  Fourteen

  Why wasn’t she picking up? He’d been trying to call her since the night before and had left countless messages, but he still hadn’t heard from her. Maybe she’s still pissed at you. The thought briefly crossed his mind before he dismissed it. She wasn’t that kind of girl, she wasn’t that petty. She may have been annoyed with him, but she would never make him worry like this. And he was worried, very worried.

  Checking his watch, he saw it was just after six a.m. She wouldn’t have left for work yet, so he decided to head over to her apartment. There was bound to be a simple explanation; she’d probably lost her phone or something.

  At that hour, it didn’t take him long to get across town and he was soon entering her building and taking the elevator up to her floor. He knocked on her door and waited. Nothing. Maybe she’s in the shower. He knocked louder the second time, making sure he would be heard throughout the apartment. Nothing.

  The niggling worry he’d had in the pit of his stomach was growing bigger now. Shelby was not the kind of girl to vanish with no word. She had a good job, was responsible. He tried the door handle but it was locked, as he’d expected.

  Making a decision, he took a step back and prepared to kick the door. If he was wrong, she’d be annoyed with him and he’d have to pay for the door, but at least he’d know there was nothing wrong.

  Lifting his foot, he slammed it into the door, the impact sending pain shooting up his leg. Ignoring it, he repeated it twice more until the door started to crack around the lock. One more should do it. With a final kick, the door gave way.

  Stepping inside, it was immediately clear something was very wrong. Just inside the door, there was a massive red stain on the carpet and Drake had seen enough of it in his time to know it was blood. Stepping around it, he rushed into the apartment, checking the living room first, which was empty. Making his way down the hall to the bedroom, he called out, hoping she would respond. “Shelby? Babe?”

  The door to the bedroom was closed, and he had the sudden urge to turn and leave without finding out what was behind it. Practically forcing himself to do it, he reached forward and pushed down the handle, giving the door a gentle push.

  What he saw made him retch. Bending over with his hands on his knees, he had to take a few deep breaths to stop himself throwing up. Once he had it under control, he straightened up and staggered back out of the room, falling to his knees once he was in the hall. No, not Shelby! He felt like he’d walked into someone else’s nightmare.

  Fifteen

  Sam’s phone danced across the table as it vibrated, earning him a disapproving glance from Maria who was just dishing up pancakes to the girls. He tried to make sure he was able to sit down with them at meal times as much as he could, but these precious times were quite often interrupted by work. Throwing her an apologetic look, he grabbed the phone and checked the screen. It was work.

  As he looked up, he could see the disappointment on the girl’s faces and it made his chest tighten. “Hey, guys, you know I have to work.”

  “You work all the time, Daddy,” Andrea pouted.

  She was right, it did seem like that lately. “Hey, pumpkin, how about when I’ve finished with this job I’m doing we all take a little vacation? Maybe go camping?” He was owed some time.

  “Really, Daddy?” Both their faces lit up.

  “Yep, really. But before we do, I’ve got to catch this bad man, okay?”

  Both girls nodded. “Okay,
Daddy.”

  “Okay, you girls be good for Maria and I’ll see you later.” He stood up, leaving his breakfast untouched, and kissed each of his girls on the top of the head.

  Maria followed him as he went into the hall and slipped his jacket on over his holster. “You know, those girls are growing up fast and you’re missing most of it.”

  He sighed. “I know, Maria, but I’m a homicide detective. I don’t get to keep regular hours. You know that.”

  “I do,” she nodded, “but I also know you’re a dad and those girls need you. Especially now that they’re getting older.”

  ***

  Maria’s words echoed in his head as he drove downtown. Thinking back over the past year, he was shocked to realize just how much he had missed. He’d never actually thought about it, perhaps deliberately, and now that he did, he was thrown. He’d been so focused on work that he’d come to rely on Maria more and more and it was shocking to think that she was actually more of a parent to them now than he was. He didn’t know how, but that had to change.

  For now, though, he needed to focus on his job. The message that had arrived on his phone at breakfast had told him that there had been another murder and that’s where he was headed now. He didn’t know much yet, but right away something about it bothered him. All the other murders had been committed outside, the bodies left for members of the public to find. This one had taken place inside an apartment, and they’d received an anonymous tip. They’d never had one of those before.

  What was different about this murder? You didn’t need to be some sort of high flying criminal profiler to know that serials didn’t usually change their MO, so why had this one? He turned this question over in his mind until he pulled up outside the apartment complex where the body had been found.