Kelso pulled into traffic and gave a brief snort. “Innuendo? I think you’re past innuendos, partner. That man has branded you as his. Besides, I thought you guys picked up where you left off.”
“Well, not exactly,” Gabby said. “And I’m not a cow to be branded.”
She never got around to having that profound conversation with Declan, partly because after the captain’s funeral there was a shakeup in their Division that occupied a lot of her head space. Mostly she was sticking her head in the sand because she was overwhelmed with everything coming at her. Staying in stasis seemed like a good idea. Except Declan appeared to have reached the limit of his patience. He wasn’t hiding how he felt anymore, but he wasn’t voicing any feelings either, merely being demonstrative and … well, hinting.
“So, are you exes with benefits?”
“Ah … we’re more than that. I think.”
“Are you guys gonna try and make a go of it?”
“I don’t know.”
“So you’re just fucking?” Kelso stated, deadpan.
“You’re getting annoying.”
“And you haven’t told Theo that you’re his mother.”
“None of your business.”
“I give a shit about you, Gab,” her friend’s voice grew rough. “I know it’s eating you up inside. This is one problem that has a solution, and that solution is to stop hiding the fact from your son and come clean.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Oh? Explain.”
“Theo is under a lot of pressure.”
“Doesn’t seem so to me. He seems to have it made.”
“You know better than that,” Gabby said. “I’m a living example of a teen-star has-been.”
“That was by choice.”
When their SUV stopped at a red light, Kelso turned to her. “Look at me, Woodward.”
Gabby did. Her partner’s eyes were serious, earnest. “Roarke seems like a great guy. That man cares for you. I hope you see that. It’s not about Theo. It’s about you. You should see the vibes he gives off whenever guys at Division are around you—”
“You don’t have to point that out. Delgado teases me enough about it,” Gabby grumbled. “And that’s another reason. Theo just found out Declan is his real father. Revenant Films is coming up with a press release before the season premiere because the tabloids have just been going to town about this.”
This was one thing Gabby was relieved to have Nick handle. After their Rodeo Drive field trip, the tabloids started speculating, and a picture of Gabby and Declan from when they first got married was printed. But that news was soon eclipsed by a possible bioweapon in play in LA, and the mayor was still trying to calm the public.
“Isn’t the season premiere next summer? That’s another eight months. The longer you sit on this, the more Theo will react badly.” Kelso’s face softened. “He looks up to you, Gab, and you’ve tried everything to find out the truth.”
“I know, but he’s vulnerable at this age. The point of identity and existential crisis. He’s at the top of his career right now. Can you imagine what he’ll feel when he finds out he’s been living a lie?”
The light turned green and Kelso returned his attention to the road. “You have a point, but I still maintain Theo is as level-headed as they come—for an entitled teen actor.”
Gabby laughed. “He’s his father, I guess.”
“No, he’s you,” Kelso said.
She would disagree. It was more Declan who’d had more responsibility as a teenager than he should have had until he met Gabby. She shook her head. She wasn’t going to think of that past anymore, what should have been. There was only now and what needed to be done. There was still a chance for them to become a family, right?
“I’ll tell him,” she whispered.
As low as her voice had become, her partner heard her. “Atta, girl.”
“I’ll talk to Declan when I get home.” It was time they defined what they meant to each other. No more skating the line of exes-with-benefits.
Their radio crackled from dispatch. “Detective Kelso, what’s your twenty?”
“Heading west to Beverly Hills on Beverly Boulevard.”
“You need to head to Inglewood.”
“What do you have?”
“Possible homicide related to the Ortega case.”
Kelso glanced at her as he clicked the mic to answer. “We’re on our way.”
22
Two black and whites with lights flashing were already parked on the curb beside an alley. The ambulance was pulled in across from it.
As Gabby and Kelso stepped out of their vehicle, a uniform approached them.
“Is the scene secured?” Gabby called out, whipping out a pair of gloves from her back pocket and slipping them on.
“Of course,” the officer grumbled. “We haven’t touched anything.”
Gabby nodded. It wouldn’t have been the first time patrol officers were too eager when they were at a crime scene and contaminated the area in their haste to investigate. They frequently forgot it wasn’t their job to do so. She’d been there, done that. “Were you the one who called GHD?”
“Yes.” Hastings, as his nameplate stated, ran a finger across the top of his mouth. “There was a message on the body.”
Passing a smattering of spectators huddled in groups, they ducked under the police tape. Residents frequently avoided the cops, the fear of getting hauled in overcame their curiosity. But sometimes, passers-by became nosy.
“Who found the body?” Kelso asked as they made their way down the narrow alley.
“A homeless person rummaging through the dumpster.”
“A homeless person?” Gabby asked. “Who just happened to have a phone?”
“That’s what dispatch said,” Hastings replied testily. “He was gone when we arrived.”
“Sounds fishy to me,” Kelso drawled as they neared.
Gathered around the dumpster was a man in an apron, probably the cook from the diner that used the dumpster. Beside him stood another uniform.
“That’s my partner,” Hastings said. “And the owner of the deli.”
The owner was Ivan Smirnov and he operated the Russian grocery/deli located in the building on the right. He looked distraught and disturbed.
Kelso crouched down near the vic, Gabby noted the face was covered in blood. The hair was close cropped, probably blond.
“Victim is Caucasian male, around six-four, two hundred and twenty pounds. Put the age around late twenties to late forties.” Kelso rattled off his initial observation. “Blunt head trauma, red welts on the arms—possible defensive wounds. We need Nadia to estimate time of death.”
“Did you know our victim, Mr. Smirnov?” Gabby asked.
“He frequently comes in to Mechta,” the man sniffed. “Loves the stuffed cabbage. His boss loves the cakes. Pays in cash. Not unusual.”
Crap, Gabby thought. No receipts to trace. “When was the last time he came in?”
“The other night.”
“Was he a long-time customer?”
Smirnov shook his head and pondered the question. “Maybe two weeks ago.”
Kelso and Gabby exchanged glances. “Do you have surveillance at the grocery?”
“Of course. We keep thirty days’ worth.”
“Gabby,” Kelso called her attention to a note stapled to the dead body. “It’s the number for GHD and said we shouldn’t have interfered with Ortega. Does this look like a cartel hit?”
“Hard to say.”
“Hastings, can you shine a light on the face?”
The patrol officer did as he was told, and Gabby crouched down to look closer. There was something oddly familiar about the man. Like she’d seen him once before, but where? Blood obscured his face, probably on purpose, but why call GHD here and be mysterious about who was killed if the perp expected a reaction?
Someone was messing with them.
Gabby turned rigid and straightened to lo
ok around, wondering if they were being watched. Some perpetuators of crimes were egomaniacs who thrilled in witnessing the aftermath of their handiwork. Who was …son of a bitch. Her eyes flew back to the body on the ground as recognition sunk like an anchor in her gut.
“It’s one of Claudette’s bodyguards,” she said.
“There. Play that back again,” Gabby told Nadia and pointed to the footage of the grocery store surveillance. It was grainy and the technology was as old as Theo, but there was a frame that clearly showed Lance Logan, South African mercenary. But where was look-a-like Douglas Smith? Those were their names on their passports as security for Claudette Dumont, but she doubted they were real, given the vast resources of Antonio Andrade.
The FBI had reached out to the Brazilian billionaire. But as far as Gabby knew the man had evaded their efforts and had made no inquiries into Claudette’s whereabouts. At first Gabby thought the Biotech businessman used his connections to smuggle Claudette out of the country, but now she wasn’t too sure. Declan said her ex-stepmother had asked for his help in exchange for information about Ortega. There were certainly no public sightings of Claudette who was now a person of interest for carrying a biological weapon into the country.
Was she dead?
Gabby’s chest tightened.
As much as she hated the woman who stole her baby and caused her endless heartache, Gabby still wouldn’t wish her a brutal death. Although she’d imagined her murder a couple of times over the years and, most recently, after the captain’s death, she wanted justice to prevail.
“Looks like him all right,” Nadia agreed. She pulled up the photo taken by immigration when they first arrived in LA. “The CSI team is almost done cataloging the scene. I’ll head back to the lab if you don’t need me here.”
Before Gabby could answer, her rover—remote out-of-vehicle emergency radio—crackled.
“Gab.” It was Kelso. He was canvassing the neighborhood for witnesses, showing them pictures of Logan, Smith, and Claudette. They’d been at this for a few hours. Even if Nadia wasn’t the medical examiner, she had enough experience to estimate time of death and Logan had not been dead very long. They had to act quickly to preserve evidence.
Fishing out her rover, she clicked. “Give me good news, Kelso.”
“A townhouse.”
“Fucking A. Where?”
Kelso gave her the name of the building. It was only a few blocks from the grocery. “Okay, we can consider this exigent circumstances since one of the tenants was murdered. However, I’ll get Chen to get a retroactive warrant from Judge Mackey.”
It wasn’t the first time they’d awakened a judge at two in the morning to approve a retroactive search warrant, so they knew which ones to approach. Mackey was one of the judges who would err on the side of public safety. After several dead ends by their Division and the Feds to locate Claudette, she didn’t expect pushback. “Besides it’s only ten. He shouldn’t be too grumpy.”
Signing off, she made the call to Chen who said he was on top of it. He didn’t sound pleased, but knew it was time sensitive.
“We’re done here. Just make a few copies of the videos for our file,” Gabby told Nadia. She got up from her chair, but Nadia grabbed her arm.
She glanced at the other woman questioningly.
“Be careful, okay?” Nadia said. “Logan was a big guy. That was a lethal blow to the head that caved in his skull like that.”
“I will. Don’t worry.”
Now she had to shoot off a text to Declan so he wouldn’t worry too. “Sorry. Caught up in a case. Don’t wait. Long night ahead.”
Eden Park Homes was a townhouse court configuration common for multifamily living. It was a series of detached buildings sharing a common courtyard. The manager, Mr. Shah, was cooperative, especially after they’d informed him that one of his tenants was dead.
“I’m so sorry to hear about Mr. Logan.” The man looked genuinely troubled. “Of course, you have my full cooperation. The lease was under his name.”
“Do you get a lot of tenants paying three months in advance? Cash?”
“Cash payments are not unusual.” Mr. Shah looked down at his hands.
“I wasn’t implying any wrong-doing. We’re just trying to find a paper trail.”
“I’ll admit some of my tenants are less than savory characters,” Mr. Shah’s South Asian accent slipped out. Judging how he mostly spoke like a regular California native, he’d probably been a first-generation immigrant at a very young age. “I’m just the property manager. We do background checks, but that would only go so far if they’re in town for extended business and not in the state database.”
Gabby already knew from the quick hack by Nadia that the majority of tenants in Eden Park were Eastern European.
“Do you want to see the unit now?” Mr. Shah asked. The manager had tried to call the number he had for Logan on file, but it went to voicemail.
She checked her phone and saw the go-ahead from Chen.
Kelso came in from the outside. “Found it.” Meaning Claudette’s Porsche.
“Where?”
“She wasn’t really hiding it. Basement level of the garage across the street.”
“So the metallic blue Toyota Camry noted on the lease was a secondary car.”
Even if Gabby’s question was rhetorical, Mr. Shah nodded. “Yes. Like I said. I deal mostly with Logan. Maybe late at night I see the other guy.”
“Have you ever noticed any altercations or disagreements between them?”
The manager shook his head.
“Guess we’ll see what we can find out,” Gabby said. She told Kelso and the other two officers accompanying them. “We’ll knock first. If no response, we’ll have Mr. Shah unlock the door.”
23
Sorry. Caught up in a case. Don’t wait. Long night ahead
Declan exhaled a frustrated breath and tossed his phone on the couch. Reading a book was useless, he couldn’t concentrate, and he never watched TV unless it was with Theo or Gabby and even that was new to him. Levi had already turned in for the night since Theo had a four o’ clock wake-up call, which meant Declan did, too.
It was eleven and he’d hoped to spend some time with Gabby, but that wasn’t looking promising at the moment. He should get used to being with a cop and roll with it. His phone buzzed from a number he knew was a new one Garrison had used.
“Roarke.”
“Is Theo home with you?” The CIA officer asked without much preamble.
“Yes.” A pause. “Why?’
“Raul Ortega escaped the CDC holding facility.”
“What? How?” Cold fingers of fear wrapped around his heart.
“Explain later. Pack up. Until we know what his game is, we need you mobile on short notice.”
“What about Gabby?”
“We’ll catch up with her.”
“Not good enough.”
“Goddammit, Roarke!” the man growled with an unusual lack of control. “Check KCAL9 and get your shit packed.”
He needed to update Gabby. He tried to call her but immediately got her voicemail.
Fuck.
He jumped up from the couch, grabbed the remote, and switched the TV to KCAL-9.
On the screen, the footage of red and blue lights, ambulances and fire trucks seared into his vision.
He quickly scanned the caption as he turned up the volume.
“We’re on the scene of what looks like another fentanyl attack. Witnesses reported an explosion and then people who were running out of the club started dropping like flies…”
“Holy fuck.” He spun on his heel and stalked toward Levi’s room, pounding on his friend’s door.
“Jesus, Roarke, what is it?” Levi asked when he opened the door, clearly jolted from sleep.
“Pack a bag and get ready.”
His partner backed away from the door to let him in and headed to the bathroom to throw water on his face and gargle mouthwash.
Decla
n leaned against the jamb leading to the bathroom, arms crossed, impatiently waiting for his partner to properly wakeup. “Garrison just called and we’re code red. Ortega has escaped confinement.”
Levi stilled, finished his gargling, and looked at him sharply in the mirror. “Just now?”
“Yes. There’s also been another fentanyl attack. I don’t know if it’s the same case Gabby …” Declan wasn’t liking these developments. Two weeks of nothing and then this? “Dammit! I don’t like coincidences.”
“No shit.” Levi walked back into the bedroom, his body alert.
“Garrison’s not sure what Ortega’s end-game is, but we need to be ready to leave if Theo is still a target.” And Gabby. Who would protect her when she was out there and he was here? He’d never felt more powerless in his life.
“Agreed. Our perimeter surveillance drones can only do so much if we have an all-out assault on this place.”
“What’s going on?” Theo’s voice came from the open door.
“Pack a bag, kid. We might need to leave,” Declan told him.
“Not until one of you explain what’s going on!” The teenager’s eyes flashed defiantly. “Does it have something to do with that nightclub attack? It’s all over twitter.”
Declan’s jaw hardened. “Partly.”
“Or did you two screw-up? Playing Russian roulette with whoever got the captain killed and now I’m the target?” Theo said. “I’m not a dumb kid. I know you’re all not plain bodyguards or fight instructors pandering to the whims of teen-actors or the studio.”
“That’s actually my job description,” Levi said dryly.
“Bullshit.”
“Theo!” Declan snapped. “Pack a bag. We’ll explain later.”
His son still wouldn’t move. “Did Gabby agree to this? Why isn’t she home yet? Is she at the scene? That’s why she’s not answering my texts, right?”
The look of worry on Theo’s face escalated the anxiety he’d been trying desperately to reign in. He swiped her number again. Failing, he tried to raise Kelso. Straight to voicemail as well. Dispatch lines were clogged.
The Ex Assignment (Rogue Protectors Book 1) Page 22