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

by A. J. Carella

  “I thought it was you.”

  Shaken from his thoughts, Drake looked over to where a man was walking up to him. “Hey, Jordan.”

  “Rumor has it that you left town, but I can see that’s not true.” He took a seat next to Drake on the bench.

  “Actually, it is. I’m just back to take care of a bit of business and then I’m leaving again.”

  “I heard that Angel had been arrested for the murder of all those women. I told you he was a psycho.”

  “Yeah, you did.” Drake didn’t want to put him straight. He had no idea what was going to happen with the case so he felt it was better to just keep quiet.

  “What happened to Juan?”

  “He’s dead.” He didn’t elaborate; it was still too painful for him to talk about.

  “Look, its cold out here. Do you want to grab a coffee?”

  He’d never had any real issue with Jordan and a coffee sounded good, so he agreed. It had to be better than sitting alone, dwelling on his thoughts.

  “I’ve got myself a car now, so I can drive us.”

  Drake laughed. “All that time running around after you and now you decide to get a car?”

  Jordan shrugged. “What can I say? I don’t have a chauffeur anymore so I had to, really.”

  Still chuckling, Drake followed him out of the park to a battered old sedan and got in. “Are you sure this thing is safe?”

  “It’ll get us there, don’t worry.” Jordan started the engine. “There’s this great new place just outside town, safe from prying eyes.”

  “Sounds good.”

  ***

  They’d been driving for over an hour and left the city far behind before Drake started to feel uneasy. Something felt wrong. They were traveling further into the countryside and it felt odd that anyone would open a coffee place this far out of the way.

  “Are you sure you’re going the right way?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Look, I think we should just turn around and head back. We can find somewhere else.”

  Jordan didn’t answer and just kept driving, his eyes firmly on the road.

  “Turn around, Jordan, there’s nothing out here.”

  He hadn’t seen a house for at least a mile and he was sure there was something wrong now. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he slid his cell phone into the palm of his hand before sliding it onto his lap, unseen. Checking that Jordan’s eyes were still on the road, he surreptitiously tried to dial 911. He jumped as the phone was suddenly grabbed from his hand.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.”

  He watched helplessly as Jordan wound down his window and threw the phone out.

  “Stop the damn car!” He was scared now, but trying not to let his weakness show.

  Still, Jordan didn’t reply, and instead slowed down as they came to a dirt road. There was no doubt in Drake’s mind that wherever the dirt road led, he wouldn’t be coming back up it. “Stop the car. You can go ahead if you want but I want to get out. Now.”

  “Shut the fuck up. You’re not going anywhere.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you? Jordan?” Silence. He needed to get out of the car. Now. The car was just making the turn onto the dirt road and was going as slow as it was going to get. It’s now or never. He went to grab the door handle and was shocked to realize it wasn’t there—it had been removed.

  “I told you, you’re not going anywhere.” Jordan smirked.

  Panicking now, Drake made a grab for the steering wheel but Jordan was too fast. Before he could get his hands on it, he felt a jab in his left side. His body was suddenly wracked with pain and started to convulse. In the back of his mind, he knew what had just happened. Stun gun. Drake was barely conscious and only vaguely aware that the car was stopping.

  He watched through barely-open lids as Jordan got out of the car and disappeared from sight. He was leaning with his back half against the passenger door and when Jordan suddenly pulled it open he couldn’t stop himself falling backwards out of the car and onto the ground. Pulling him into a sitting position, Jordan slid his arms under his armpits and started pulling him away from the car.

  Drake was starting to get the feeling back in his legs and, kicking out, he tried to get some footing on the ground with his feet. If he could get some leverage, he might be able to wrench himself from Jordan’s grip. Using the strength he had left, he thrust his heels down into the ground, breaking Jordan’s momentum and causing him to stumble and loosen his grip. Seizing the opportunity, Drake shifted all his weight forward and pulled away. Unfortunately, the combination of the sudden shift in balance and his weakened legs sent him flying and he landed face down in the dirt. Quickly getting up again before Jordan could grab him, he turned and faced his attacker. He barely recognized him. Gone was the constantly smiling face he knew, replaced with a face that was tight with anger and eyes that were hard, glinting chips of fire.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you doing this?” Drake gasped, trying to catch his breath.

  “Because you’re going to ruin everything. It was all going fine until you decided to give Angel an alibi.”

  It took a moment for what he was saying to sink in. “It was you. You killed those girls.”

  “Yes, but I was about to get away free and clear and then you showed up again.” Jordan took a step closer. “You see why I have to get rid of you, don’t you?” He took another step. “It’s nothing personal, but you’re the only person who can give him an alibi so with you gone, it will all go as planned and he will get convicted.”

  Drake stepped back, matching Jordan’s movements. “But the police know, the DA called them. Even if you kill me, they’ll know Angel didn’t kill those women.”

  Jordan smiled. “Ah, but you see, you’re the real killer. The only reason you gave him that alibi is because you don’t want him taking credit for all your hard work.”

  “What? Are you insane? I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “Oh, I know, but you’ve got to admit, when you disappear and I plant that little seed in their ear it’s going to sound quite possible, don’t you think?”

  Drake’s head was spinning, still feeling the effects of the stun gun, and he stumbled, dropping down to one knee. It was all the invitation Jordan needed and he was on him in a flash, knocking him onto his back in the dirt.

  Drake didn’t feel the blade go in, but suddenly he was struggling to breath. He tried to push Jordan off him but he was getting weaker and he may as well have been swatting at flies. Letting his body go limp, he stopped resisting. He felt the blade slice into him twice more, and though he felt each blow this time, he remained still, not showing any outward signs of life. It’s your only chance.

  As hard as he tried, though, he couldn’t stay conscious and he could feel the blackness closing in, clawing at the edges of his life. More time, just a bit more time! He pleaded with his maker as the darkness claimed him. I never got chance to meet my mother, he thought, and then it went dark.

  Thirty-Seven

  An excruciating pain in his right side woke him up. Instinctively trying to find the source, he reached for it with his hand, only to find that movement of any kind made it worse. Opening his eyes, he was momentarily disorientated, seeing the drab, gray walls and the television mounted high on wall. It was only a matter of seconds before he realized he was in a hospital room and the memory of what had happened came back to him.

  Lifting his head from the pillow, he looked down at himself, checking for injuries. The bed sheet was down across his waist and his chest was bare, revealing a tube inserted into the right side of his chest, held in place by surgical tape.

  “Ah. You’re awake.”

  Drake looked up at the voice. Standing in the doorway to the room was what he assumed to be a doctor, judging from white coat and the clipboard held in his hands. “What happened?” Drake’s voice came out as a croak.

  “Your throat might be a bit sore for a few days. We had to intubate you.” The
doctor looked down at his notes. “You’re a very lucky young man.”

  He wasn’t feeling particularly lucky at the moment, the pain seeming to get worse the longer he was awake. There was a glass of water on the table bedside the bed and he took a sip. The cool water on his sore throat felt wonderful.

  “You were brought in with three stab wounds,” the doctor continued. “Two of them were potentially life-threatening.” He came around to the side of the bed and checked the tube going into his chest. “One punctured your right lung and it collapsed. That is what this is for.” He indicated the tube with his pen. “We had to insert it to re-inflate your lung. I’m afraid I know that it’s quite painful, but you’ll have to put up with it for a few days.”

  Drake remembered the feeling of breathlessness he’d felt and now he understood why.

  “Another one went into your chest but struck a rib and didn’t cause any major damage. The third one came remarkably close to killing you. Another couple of millimeters to the right and it would have gone into your heart.” He smiled as he looked down at Drake, as if this was somehow something to be cheerful about.

  “How did I get here?” He couldn’t remember anything after he blacked out.

  “I’ll let the detective explain. He’s waiting outside to speak to you. Before I go, how’s the pain? Do you need some pain relief?”

  Yes, please. “No, thank you.” He wanted to keep a clear head to speak to the police.

  “Okay. Well, the buzzer is by your left hand so just press it if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Doctor.”

  Drake watched as he left the room, holding the door open for the detective waiting outside.

  “Hi, Drake. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

  “No offense, but I wish I wasn’t seeing you.”

  Sam chuckled. “I get that a lot.” There was one chair for visitors in the room and he pulled it up closer to the bed and sat down. “So, can you tell me what happened?”

  Stopping frequently to take sips of water, Drake told him everything that he remembered and by the time he was finished, he was exhausted.

  “So, what can you tell me about this Jordan guy?”

  “Not a lot. I met him a few times over the past year or so but I don’t know where he lives or anything.” Drake frowned. “Come to think of it, I don’t even know if I ever heard his last name mentioned.”

  “Okay, so this is when you worked for Juan, yes?”

  “Yeah. He was sort of a go-to guy for information. If Juan needed to find out anything, he gave Jordan a call.”

  “And before he appeared last year, you’d never heard of him before?”

  Drake shook his head. “No, never.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Drake. I think that’s all I need for now.” Sam stood to leave. “Can I call anyone for you?”

  “Can you call my father, please? He’s the chief of police in Brecon Point.”

  Sam nodded. “I remember. Yes, of course I will. Rest for now and I’ll be back to see you soon.”

  That sounded like good advice and Drake closed his eyes and was asleep before Sam even left the room.

  Thirty-Eight

  The first thing Sam did when he got back to the station was call Drake’s father as he’d promised. The kid had been through a lot and he really needed his family by his side. At least it wasn’t the death message that it so very nearly could have been.

  He’d gotten the call about Drake late the evening before, just as he was about to leave the station for the night. A farmer driving down a dirt road to check on his fields had miraculously come across Drake barely alive and, thinking quickly, had put him in the back of the car and driven him straight to the nearest hospital. Because of the nature of his wounds, the hospital had called the police and it hadn’t taken long for the news to filter through to him.

  Sam had immediately gone to the hospital, fearing the worst, but had been told they were still operating so he’d gone home, leaving strict instructions for the hospital to call him if there was any news. He hadn’t had a call, so had come back first thing in the morning and had been pleased to find him alive and out of danger.

  “Boss?” Sam knocked on the captain’s door before walking in. “Drake has managed to give us a first name for his attacker but that’s all he knows.”

  “Was he able to say why he was attacked?”

  “No, he’s got no idea,” Sam lied. “But he was still fairly groggy so I said I’d stop by again. Maybe he’ll remember more by then.”

  “Okay. Well, you know the drill. Keep me in the loop.”

  “Will do.” Sam left the captain’s office and went back to his desk to grab his coat. There were only a couple of people who would be able to help him identify this Jordan guy and one of them was dead. The other was in jail, awaiting trial for murder. As he left the office, he glanced over at Steve’s empty desk. He could really use his help right now but he’d been off sick for the last couple of days with a nasty stomach bug that was doing the rounds. Half the department seemed to have been off with it.

  No matter. He would be safe enough where he was going.

  Thirty-Nine

  Finn put the phone down in shock. He’d only seen him off at the airport the day before, and now Drake was lying seriously ill in a hospital in LA. He needed to get there, and fast. He briefly considered calling Kat and letting her know what was happening but the way things stood at the moment, he didn’t know if he could bear to see her reject their son again. It had been two weeks since she’d thrown him out of the house. She’d made no attempt to contact him and he had no intention of contacting her.

  Throwing some things in a bag, he called the office and told them he would be out of town for a couple of days due to a family emergency. Jumping in his car, he immediately left for the airport. He had no idea when the next flight was that would get him there, or even if there were any seats available on it, but he would find a way. He would go on standby, buy tickets of other passengers even, whatever it took to get him to his son.

  Forty

  Angel was being held at the California State prison, and after parking his car in the lot and going through security, Sam was led to a room that contained a single table and two chairs to wait for him. He didn’t have to wait long until the clank of the door told him that Angel had arrived. He sat silently as he was escorted into the room by two guards who attached his shackles to a metal ring cemented into the floor. Sam could see by the expression on his face that he wasn’t pleased to see him and the feeling was mutual. This was the man that had threatened his family and had nearly beaten Maria to death. Sam would be quite happy to see him spend the rest his days behind bars, but only for crimes he had actually committed.

  “Hello, Angel.”

  “What the fuck do you want?” Angel growled at him from across the table.

  “I’m here to help you, so you can drop the attitude.”

  “Help me? How?”

  “I want you to tell me about Jordan.”

  The anger on Angel’s face was replaced by confusion. “Jordan? What’s he got to do with anything?”

  “Well, he tried to kill your old friend, Drake, yesterday and now we need to find him.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, it would seem that Drake is able give you an alibi for one of the murders stop.”

  “I told you I didn’t kill those girls but you wouldn’t listen.”

  “Telling me and proving it, though, are two different things, Angel, and you could never give us alibis, could you.”

  “I still don’t understand what this has to do with Jordan.”

  “It would seem that Jordan found out about the alibi, picked Drake up and took him down a deserted track and left him for dead. After confessing to the murders himself.”

  “Wow.” Angel sat back in his chair, a stunned look on his face. “I did not see that coming.”

  “So what can you tell me about this Jordan?” Sam pressed
.

  “He came to us one day about a year ago. Said he had some information for Juan about a rival gang. Turns out the information was good and after that, every time Juan needed information he couldn’t get for himself, he called Jordan. I never liked the guy, myself, but he did always seem to be able to come up with the goods.”

  So far, it tallied with what Drake had told him. “So do you know anything about him that might help us find him? Think hard, Angel.”

  “No, I really don’t. He always made us pick him up in different places, so I never knew where he lived.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Angel, although I can’t say you’d been much help.” Sam pushed his chair back stood up to leave

  “And how is Drake?”

  “Do you care?”

  “Not at all. I just want to know that he’s suffering.”

  “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but he’s going to be fine.” Sam knocked on the door to signal that he was ready to leave. “If you do think of anything else that might help us find him, let the guards know.”

  He let out a long breath as the door closed behind him. He didn’t know how he’d stopped himself reaching across the table and slamming his head into the desk for what he’d done to Maria, but he had. The visit had been a complete waste of time, though, and he’d learned nothing more than he already knew. And what he knew chilled him to the bone.

  Forty-One

  The flight had barely touched down when Finn was on his feet, waiting to get off the aircraft. Carrying his hand luggage, hurried through the concourse and exited the airport quickly. Jumping in one of the many cabs waiting outside, he told the driver to get him to the hospital as fast as he could.

  Once he got to the hospital, he ran inside and was quickly directed to Drake’s room. He was asleep when he got there and, quietly putting his bags down so as not to wake him, Finn went and stood by the side of his bed. Seeing with his own eyes that Drake was alive, he was overwhelmed with emotion. It terrified him that he’d nearly lost him so soon after finding him and since he’d taken the call, he’d felt like his heart was beating out of his chest.