Steele Resolve (The Detective Jasmine Steele Series Book 1)

by Kimberly Amato

  I lean forward to blow the candles out, but all the light goes out and I’m buried in darkness. A phone rings. I ignore it.

  “This can’t be real.” I pinch myself and let out a gasp of pain. “Descartes always said I think therefore I am. So this pain thing might mean I’m awake. Or it is a manifestation of a dream and I am overanalyzing that even.”

  Closing my eyes, breathing deeply I focus on the oxygen and not the mess in my mind. The phone rings again. Opening my eyes, the lights are on in my house. A small ring box sits on my coffee table next to a floor length black dress with matching heels. The phone rings again and I answer.

  “Hello?”

  Silence. Opening the door, I see flashing lights up the street. Dropping the phone, my feet walk of their own volition as I hurry to the scene. As I get closer, the lump in my throat grows. It feels as if I can’t breathe, like my tongue has swollen so badly I need my epi-pen. Standing outside of the yellow tape, an officer looks me over.

  “Ma’am, you can’t be here.”

  Turning my head to the faceless man in a sea of blue, I aimlessly hold up my badge to gain entrance. The man nods, lifting the tape and allowing me to cross inside the barrier. The movement around me swirls like a sea of color, nothing crystal clear or important. The tar grabs my feet causing them to drag along the pavement, unable to move quickly. My breathing slows, labored, painful.

  “Jasmine, you don’t need to be here.”

  Tyler, the captain in all his glory, stands in front of me. He head handing low, his gait soft. He tries to pull my attention to him.

  “Tell me.”

  He takes a deep breath. I’ve done that before. It’s the split second you have before you inform people of the worst moment in their lives. It’s the way you control all your emotion, the anger, fear all of that humanity inside to be very black and white. There is no room for grey when telling a family your loved one has died. There is only factual information and pseudo support. Either way, you are breaking on the inside as any human with compassion would. You have to be an amazing actor to hold all that in and still be professional. I should have a mantle full of Oscars by now.

  “There’s been an accident.”

  “How?”

  “It’s doesn’t matter.”

  I hear machines working to rip the car open and I lift my head to see the firemen working on the driver’s side of the car. A smaller black sports car is almost buried into the passenger side of the car. Blood covers the hood. I see deep gashes in the tree closest to the driver’s side door of my brother’s car. They were sandwiched.

  “Belinda?”

  Looking at the passenger side of the car, I knew the answer. I just needed to hear it. The captain says nothing. I look into his eyes and I see him struggling with his emotions. He isn’t as good as I am. I stumble towards the mangled mess of metal. The captain leads me around the men working hard to rip open the roof of the car. Henry sits in the driver’s seat, the steering wheel pressed hard against his abdomen, metal digging into his legs. The doors on the side missing, ripped apart by machines. Chase screams in the back seat uncontrollably.

  “Hey, ass munch, what you doing here?”

  Henry’s eyes open and I can see him struggle to focus on me.

  “Hey, shithead, glad you could make it.” Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth meeting a stream of blood from his head lacerations. “How’s Chase?”

  Looking over my brother’s shoulder, I see Chase with a small brace around his neck and an oxygen mask over his face. “He’s okay, the paramedics are taking good care of him. You look like shit though.”

  Henry laughs, coughing up more blood.

  “It’s a flesh wound.” He looks over at Belinda and takes her hand in his. “So, did she say yes?”

  “I’ll tell you over drinks when we get you out of there.”

  “You didn’t ask her.”

  “Kinda busy coming to save your ass, shithead.”

  “They aren’t getting me out, Jasmine. You need to take care of my son.”

  “Chase has a team of doctors hovering over him right now, let the guys help you.”

  Henry coughs more, his body shakes in pain.

  “You can’t save everyone, not this time.” He grabs my hand and squeeze it tightly. “Please, stay with me.” I kneel down beside the car, never letting go of my brother’s hand. “You think Mom and Dad will find me.”

  “I’m sure they will.”

  “Hopefully, they’ll avoid the dinosaurs and killer sharks.”

  Laughing at his comment I add, “Never underestimate Mom. She could find her way through a corn field during a tornado.” He smiles at my comment, blinking back the blood.

  “I’m sorry I’m leaving you, Sis, but I can’t…”

  “I know,” I cut him off. Looking over his injuries, I know there is no way to save him. The minute they removed the dashboard, he's dead. My eyes fix into a lifeless gaze, I can’t let him see the pain. He doesn’t need to see this right now. He knows how I feel. He knows I love him. I don’t want him to know how angry I am at the world right now.

  Henry’s eyes dart to the rear view mirror and I know whom he’s trying to see. Reaching forward, I angle it so Chase is visible. Henry smiles and squeezes my hand tighter. I can feel him running out of energy and in essence, time. As I look down at his blue jeans, the darker navy color below the knees stands out as does the ever growing pool of blood at his feet.

  Metal screeches as it breaks apart from the car, allowing the firemen to get to my nephew. My brother screams in pain as the car moves. With every twist and pull of the wreckage, his grip on my hand tightens, cutting off blood flow. His eyes never leave the mirror.

  “You ask her. You raise my son with a family. You take care of him. Promise me?”

  “Henry…”

  My brother turns sharply to face me. His face, pale and drenched in pain pleads with me.

  “Promise me!” He grunts as he pulls me closer to him.

  “I promise.”

  He nods as he turns his attention back to his son.

  “Tell him we love him.” I can hear my brother’s voice crack and I find my own resolve giving. “Remind him to be a good man. Tell him his daddy trusted you to take care of him because mommy and daddy trusted you.”

  “I will.”

  Peeking over my brother’s head I see Chase being pulled from the car seat. His arms move around frantically as his cries fill the air. The fireman hands me Chase. My brother kisses his son’s head, smearing blood on the pristine skin.

  “Daddy loves you, little man. I’ll be watching over you, okay?” My brother coughs and blood pours from his mouth. I hand Chase back to the fireman and grab my brother’s hand again.

  “I’m scared,” his voice small, broken.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”

  “I love you, little sister.”

  “You’re an asshole for dying on me, but I love you too.”

  Henry chuckles a bit before shaking violently, bubbles forming in the blood pouring from his lips. In seconds, it stops. Everything around me falls into silence. Letting out a scream I didn’t know I was holding, I let the tears pour out of my eyes like a waterfall. Shaking my brother, I punch him trying to wake him up. Leaning into the car, I pull him close to me, hugging him for the last time.

  I fall back out of the car to the ground, empty. The captain pulls me to my feet, placing his jacket around me. I watch a paramedic close Henry’s eyes. Looking over to the cruisers, I notice someone in the backseat, a worn Yankees cap on, hanging his head low. The black sports car must have been his.

  “Was he drinking?”

  “Jasmine, let me handle this case. You just take care of Chase. Whatever you need, I’ll help you.”

  “I don’t need help. I need my brother alive and I want some fucking answers!”

  “Kid lost control of his car, that’s all I know.”

  “Was he drinking?”


  “I don’t know anything more than that.”

  The captain helps me up into the back of the ambulance, Chase lying on a gurney. “I’ll call Frankie and have her meet you at the hospital.” He closes the doors behind me.

  Chapter Nine

  Bolting upright in bed, I feel the sweat pouring from my forehead into my eyes. Breathing heavy, I grab my chest almost willing my hand to control my pounding heart. Shaking, fighting fresh tears, I move off the bed. Frankie could sleep through a nuclear blast, and this is one night I am thankful for that. My phone vibrates and I pick it up. Still fighting the real feel of my nightmare, I walk into the bathroom and answer my phone.

  "Hello?"

  "Miss me?"

  "What do you want?"

  "It's been awhile. Didn't want you to think I forgot about you."

  "What do you want?"

  "One track mind I see."

  "No, I just want answers."

  "Answers are given when warranted. Right now you don't deserve any."

  "Well, I'm not on the case anymore. Call the officer who cares."

  "You ought to start caring."

  “I don’t know what you want from me.”

  I hear him laugh a bit in the background.

  “Have you ever wanted something to go away, to fade into a faraway existence?”

  “We all have some time or another.”

  “Well that’s the problem. No matter what I do, you just don’t seem to go away.”

  Looking at my tired reflection in the mirror, I know I’m not fit to win this battle anymore. Going with my gut, I say something I pray won’t be wrong.

  “I remember you that night, so drunk you couldn’t hold your head up in the back of the cruiser. Tyler protected you. Two bodies on your hands with slaps on the wrist and a record sealed. Yet, you come to work and there is my face reminding you every day you murder my family, huh, Garrison?”

  I hear something drop over the phone.

  “It’s not just about me. It’s about what is right. You couldn’t leave well enough alone.” He speaks in his normal, unmodified voice.

  “Where are you?”

  “Does it matter? I have ears to the ground, money to throw at people and a father who doesn’t need a dark spot on his family record. You should be thanking me, detective. Without me, you wouldn’t have had such a drive to get as powerful as you did. Hell, you’d probably still be a beat cop and I’d be your boss.”

  “Tell me where you are and I’ll show you how thankful I really am.”

  He laughs on the other end of the line.

  “You think I’m alone in this endeavor? You think I don’t have help? I’m right where I need to be, watching a beautiful scene unfold of blood and gore. Some cheerleader’s about to bite it, I think. God, I love these films. Such a rush.”

  Realization hits me hard. Standing up and squeezing my phone as tight as possible I manage to compose myself.

  “If you hurt her…”

  “You’d have to be here to stop me and right now I think I’ve got a head start on you.”

  The phone line dies in my hand. Walking out into the bedroom, I grab my clothes from the night before along with my small ankle pistol. Grabbing my police issued weapon on the table I get dressed as quickly as possible. Frankie stirs slightly in bed and I stop my movements. Opening the door, I exit the bedroom as quietly as possible.

  In the living room, Will lies on a chair, dead to the world around him. I’m sure if there was an intruder he’d wake up but right now I am thankful he sleeps so hard. Lifting the keys to his car, I leave the safe house.

  Thoughts of Hadley fill my mind, terrifying me at what he could be doing to her right now. Slamming the button on the elevator, I will it to move faster if only to calm my nerves. Holding out my cell phone I dial James’s number, but it goes directly to voicemail. The elevator arrives and I jump inside, slamming the garage floors button. I try James again, but his voicemail comes on again.

  When the doors open again, I’m out the door rushing to the car. Hoping in, it takes me maybe fifteen minutes to drive the deserted streets to Hadley’s film set. The flood lights illuminate the buildings above it, but the surrounding are pitch black. Flipping off the headlights, I bring the car to a stop. I drop my cell phone on the passenger seat, powered on. Getting out I close the door as quietly as possible. Closing the door, I pull out my gun and hold it out in front of me. My gut screams for me to call backup, but my heart overrides the smart thing to do. Walking to the gate, I find it open, unlike this morning. Slipping into the blackness, my eyes begin to adjust to the darkness.

  Sliding in between the trailers, I look for the large gold star on the door. Slowly, checking around every corner, beneath each trailer, I finally come across Hadley’s. Pulling the door open, I hold my gun out. I get one foot forward before James pops out in front of me, scaring the crap out of me.

  “What the hell are you doing? Where’s Hadley?” I whisper to him.

  “Jesus,” he stops and takes a step back. “She’s on set,” he replies finally calm. “Calm down, I’ll take you there.”

  He walks a few steps in front of me before turning back.

  “Will you put that thing away? You know how Hadley hates to make a scene in front of the big wigs. Not like you’d be able to fire that thing straight with one busted hand.”

  Sliding my gun back into its holster, I leave the safety off. I don’t know who to trust and if I’ve got to grab it quickly, I don’t need a restraint.

  “Trust me, I could shoot it with a busted hand, blindfolded, hoping on one foot and on deaths door. Adrenaline is an amazing thing. You didn’t answer your phone.”

  “I’ve been pretending not to be a cop all day, sorry, but no phones on set. Something about interference with the microphones.”

  “You didn’t think to check in? Maybe check your voicemail? Or maybe turn your damn phone on when you weren’t near the equipment?”

  “Truthfully, no.”

  James and I walk around the major set builds and head toward a large brick building in the back. My hair stands up on the back of my neck and I am not feeling good about this at all.

  “Where we going?”

  “To see Hadley.” James walks a little faster ahead of me and it’s the first time I really doubt him. The way he was walking, ignoring me, it’s something I never noticed before. I should have, but I was too busy dealing with everything else to truly pay attention. Now, I’m following him into God knows what and I have a bad feeling.

  Walking up to the door, James looks through a small window before knocking on the door. It sounded hollower than I would have thought as he pounded on the door again.

  “Thought they were filming?

  “Nah, they’re just being annoying and not answering the damn door.”

  “I guess.”

  James takes a step away from the door and shakes his head. Moving past him, I glance through the window. Stacks of crates, palettes and other garbage litter the floor making it a maze of sorts, but no people or camera equipment.

  “You sure they can hear you?” I say as I turn around to face the barrel of James’ gun.

  “What are you doing James?”

  “What I was hired to do.”

  “By?”

  The door comes to life, but I keep my focus on James. With every clank of the door, my heart beats faster. I know who’s behind it, but what they’re going to do is another story. After an agonizing few seconds, the door stops its operation.

  “Turn around and walk.”

  I turn my back to James and walk into the warehouse. I know I still have both my weapons on me, but I have to be careful with my timing.

  “Stop.”

  James moves around behind me and I hear the door shutter to life again. It feels like it closes much faster but that could also be my nerves.

  “You know you’re gonna be screwed after this right?”

  “We all have our roles to play, detective. Personal
ly, I will be relaxing in a country with no extradition when this is over.”

  “Garrison’s father paid you.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna be free.”

  “Drop your gun and kick it behind you.”

  I lift up my holstered weapon and place it on the floor. Using my right leg, I push it softly behind me. I hear James chuckle.

  “I’m not dumb, kick it further.”

  I comply pushing the gun further away from me. I hear the metal scrape the ground as he picks it up. I hear him walk up behind me before he presses the gun to the base of my skull. His hands roaming all over my body making my skin crawl. Sliding down my back, feeling between my thighs all the way down to my ankles. He stops.

  “What do we have here?”

  He pulls up my pant leg and reveals my piece. He removes the holster completely before standing back up to face me.

  “Should have told me you had more than one. I mean I’m being honest and you’re lying by omission.”

  “You’re a cop, you should have known.”

  In one swift motion, I feel my gun smacking me in the side of the head. Falling to the ground hard, I land on my hands to protect my head. My cast takes the brunt of the fall, cracking, and my hand pulses with pain as I lay there.

  James stands over me and pulls my right arm behind my back. He presses his right knee into my spine, holding me in place while he wraps a set of handcuffs around my cast and locks them. Pulling on my left arm, he cuffs my other hand and attaches it to the other set. The pressure on my back leaves but then he pulls me up by the cuffs causing my shoulders to scream. Standing, I look him in the eye for the first time. The slightly red hued color I assume is due to the blood in my eye.

  “Next time, don’t reply. It’s unbecoming of a lady.” James pulls me forward and heads to the back of the building. After stumbling down a flight of stairs, he pulls open a heavy steel door and throws me inside the pitch black room. I kick the door frantically until I hear a soft crying sound behind me.

  “Who’s there?”

  “Jasmine?”

  “Hadley? Where are you?” I feel around with my feet trying to touch anything. The room is much larger than I expected. Moving forward until I hit another wall, I slither along the floor trying to gain where she is. I stop only when I bump something.