by Rebecca Deel
“10-4. Responding Code 2. Notify Detective Kelter.”
“Copy.”
Josh completed a U-turn in the middle of Cotton Road, headed in the opposite direction toward Morningstar Lane, lights flashing without sirens. He hoped they caught the perp in the act. Even better would be to nab the shooter and spring Del and Ivy from marshal custody. Annie Jenkins was a sweetheart, but Del’s customers missed her personal touch and extensive book knowledge. That beautiful lady had made a place for herself in Otter Creek.
“Unit 6.”
He slid around a tight curve and swerved to miss the camel walking along the side of the road. “Are you kidding me? That camel is out again? Whoever answers that call should cite old man Lawrence.” Safely around the four-legged road hazard lumbering down the asphalt, he snatched his radio from the holder. “Unit 6.”
“Meet Unit 2 on tac 2.”
“Copy.” Josh switched his radio to tactical channel 2. “Unit 6.”
Rod’s voice came over the air wave. “Josh, meet me on Sunset, behind the Reece place.”
“Copy that.” He paused, clicked his radio back on. “Rod, call the dispatcher and have somebody roust old man Lawrence. I almost sideswiped Bonnie on Delacroix.”
“Oh, man. Glad I don’t have to chase that girl around town for once. Copy that.”
Good thing people didn’t realize Josh had captured that camel several times over the last eighteen months or he’d have Mr. Lawrence calling him personally to retrieve Bonnie any time she pulled a dromedary Houdini from the pasture. Wonder if someone left the gate open this time or if she’d learned to open the latest gate latch? Josh hoped the officer who answered that call had potato chips in his cruiser. That was the only thing the camel loved enough to follow a trail anywhere.
Two blocks from Sunset, Josh turned off his lights. He cruised to a stop behind Rod’s SUV. His brother-in-law met Josh on the street. Not much of a moon at this time of morning. Good for their purposes. The air felt heavy already. He sighed. Signs of another scorcher when the sun rose. Made him glad he was on night duty for a while. Working in the heat and humidity in a black uniform left him drenched hours before the end of shift.
“Let’s go around back. The Kings are out of town, so they won’t cause a ruckus. No other neighbors are close enough to be a problem.”
Weapon in hand, he said, “Aye, aye, Captain.”
“That’s General to you.” Rod flashed a grin.
“Meg might call you that, but I’d probably choke on it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” The detective moved toward the Reece place, almost melting into the shadows. At the property line separating the King place from the Reece grounds, Rod stopped.
Josh studied the darkened windows of the mansion. “No movement.”
“Nope.” Rod sounded frustrated. “I hoped for some indication of where the perp is. This place is as large as a hotel. No telling where our break-in artist is located.”
“Plan?”
“Back door. Room by room search.”
“Cover territory faster if we split up.”
“If this is our shooter and he’s what you suspect, we’ll have a better chance together. Agree?”
“Up to you, boss.”
“I asked for your opinion, Officer Cahill. Or should I call you Major Cahill?” Rod’s tone bordered on snippy.
Josh’s gaze made another sweep of the darkened home and yard. Poor lighting and too many places to hide. He didn’t like the set up. “A little better than even odds with the two of us together.”
“That’s it? Why not better odds?”
“You’re a good cop, Rod. Great instincts. I respect your skills, but you aren’t military trained. If that’s our shooter and he served in special forces, he’s several cuts above just military trained. He’ll be smart, more than fast, and deadly accurate. One mistake on either of our parts and we’re both dead. He won’t hesitate to take us out. We’re the enemy and he’ll make split second decisions. If we corner the shooter, whatever happens will be over in seconds.”
Rod blew out a breath. “Noted. Let’s go.” He took off in a crouching run.
Josh followed, alert, scanning.
They skirted the in-ground pool and traversed the patio. At the French doors, Rod crouched in front of the doorknob. “Take a look,” he whispered.
He leaned in, squinted. Fine scratches around the lock. Jimmied. Not kids, then. They wouldn’t have been sophisticated enough to pick a lock. A baseball bat or simple rock would have sufficed. That left a burglar or their shooter. He eyed his brother-in-law’s back and scowled. Couldn’t see much in the dim lighting, but he saw enough outline through Rod’s jacket to know he wasn’t wearing a bulletproof vest. “Let me go in first,” Josh whispered.
“What? Why?”
“Because I’m wearing a vest.”
Rod waved that comment aside. “No time. Let’s move.”
Stubborn man. If he was injured, Josh would leave him to Meg’s tender mercies. His sister had almost driven Rod crazy while he recovered from a couple gunshot wounds before they married. Megan Cahill Kelter was as diplomatic as a hedgehog.
Rod eased open the door. They cleared the doorway, the detective going right, Josh left. Empty kitchen. He closed the door behind himself. If anyone slipped past them, the closed door would slow them down a couple seconds. Might make the difference in catching them or not.
They stood in the kitchen, listened. Nothing. If the perp remained, he could be anywhere. This house was over 10,000 square feet. A crowd could be in this place and, if they were quiet, he and Rod wouldn’t know it.
A minute later, Rod signaled he was moving into the interior of the house. Room by room, they cleared the first floor. All empty. No signs of an intruder. One last room on this floor. The library. They moved down the hall in silence. The door was closed. Rod grasped the knob. He stood to one side of the door while Josh positioned himself on the other. He nodded at the detective.
His brother-in-law held up three fingers, counted down and threw open the door. Crouched, he went to the right, Josh to the left. He caught a whisper of movement. A shaft of light shining through a gap in the curtains glinted on the barrel of a gun pointed at Rod. Almost before the thought processed, he was on the move, diving in front of his brother-in-law. A cough splintered the silence and a bullet slammed into Josh’s vest, mid-chest, the impact knocking him into Rod. The shooter raced for the door.
“Police! Freeze!” He got off four shots before their perp cleared the threshold, at least one a hit from the amount of swearing. Frustration twisted through Josh. Winged him or hit a shoulder. Otherwise he’d be down. Unless he was wearing body armor. In that case, he’d irritated the perp, maybe cracked a rib if he was lucky.
He scrambled to his feet and raced after the shooter. Had to be the same guy. Same movements and speed. Josh hit the edge of the patio at a dead run and, when the shooter ripped off a volley of shots in his direction, had to take a rolling dive onto the lawn and shift into a crouch behind a concrete planter. One shot decimated the planter inches to his right.
Sirens sounded in the distance. Within seconds, the shooter dashed across the expanse of lawn and disappeared into the darkened neighborhood.
Footsteps behind him. Josh swung around, one knee on the ground, weapon up and aimed.
“Whoa. It’s me.” Rod moved into view, gun at his side. “Dude’s fast.”
“Told you.” He stood, holstered his weapon.
“You okay?”
“Bruised. Nothing serious.”
“Good.” Rod got in his face, scowled. “What were you thinking?”
“That you were about to get shot.”
“So you had to play hero? Why didn’t you tell me to duck?”
“Would have been too late to react. He would have gotten off the shot anyway. Next time, wear a vest.”
“Thanks,” he muttered.
Two prowl cars swung into the driveway followed by another department
SUV. Ethan climbed out. Seeing Josh and Rod, he jogged to their location.
“Perp?”
“In the wind,” Rod said.
A growl, then. “Run it down.”
The detective recounted the events of the previous few minutes, outlined the steps they’d taken, and their confrontation with the intruder. “Shot at me. Josh dived in front of me and took a hit to the vest.” A grin in his direction. “Ought to be checked. Might have cracked ribs.”
Josh’s eyes narrowed. “Cheap shot, Kelter. Won’t forget it, either.”
“Why the swan dive, Cahill?” Ethan asked. “Voice broken?”
He straightened, recognizing the Chief’s voice rather than a friend. “Detective Kelter wasn’t wearing a vest. I didn’t want Meg on my case for letting her husband get hurt, sir.”
Ethan’s attention shifted to his detective. “Hope you like midnights, Rod, because your time on them just got extended for two months.”
“Two months? Aw, come on, Ethan.”
“Got a problem with that, Detective?”
A huff of air, then, “No, sir, Chief.”
“Stupid move, Kelter. This guy is one of the most dangerous men you’ll ever encounter. I want you around to tell the tale to your grandchildren. You hear me?”
“Yeah, I get it. Josh reminded me about the vest. I thought this was a burglar.”
“That kind of mistake could put you six feet under. Don’t make it again.”
“No, sir.”
Ethan turned his gaze on Josh. “Walk me through the scene in the library. Hospital report on my desk before the start of your next shift, Cahill. We need you mobile. More important, Del and Ivy need you mobile.”
He led the way inside the house. Together, he and Rod described their steps, turning on lights as they made their way through the house. Drops of blood created a trail to the library. A zing of satisfaction curled through Josh. He’d hit the shooter.
Ethan crouched, examined the blood. “Rod, get your crime scene kit. I want to run this through our own sources. As soon as we’re finished here, I’ll call Jordan. Let’s get this done.”
While Rod retrieved the kit, Josh talked his brother-in-law through the events in the library.
“How many shots at Rod?”
“One.”
“Bullet?”
“Don’t know. I got off four shots at him as he ran out the door. At least one hit.”
Ethan shined Josh’s flashlight around the floor, highlighting five spent shells. “One of these belongs to the shooter. All of them are jackets for forty caliber.” A glance over his shoulder at Josh. “I’ll need your sidearm. Feds will want it for comparison. You have a backup?”
Josh snorted.
A grin. “Figured you did.”
Rod returned with his kit and the three snapped pictures and gathered a blood sample. They found one bullet lodged in the wall across from the library, another in the door frame. That left two unaccounted for. “Pity we can’t take the spent shells to test.”
“Start a war with the feds.” Ethan eyed Josh’s shirt. “Unbutton your shirt. I didn’t find the bullet that hit you. Maybe it’s still lodged in the vest.”
He tugged his uniform shirt out of his pants, unbuttoned, shrugged it off. Sure enough, the bullet was lodged in his vest. A grim expression settled on Ethan’s face. The bullet was lodged directly over Josh’s heart.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Josh slid off the emergency room bed and tugged on his black t-shirt. “What’s the word, Doc?”
Otter Creek’s favorite doctor, John Anderson, glanced up from making notes. “You’re cleared for duty, Officer Cahill.” He nodded at the chest he’d just examined. “Bruised ribs. Might need some over-the-counter pain reliever, but back to normal in a few days.”
He grinned. “Good to know. I need a copy of the report so my brother-in-law will let me work tonight.”
“I’ll leave a copy with your discharge papers.” Anderson paused, his hand on the door. “How’s your family reacting to Serena’s news?”
“The women are planning the nursery.” And because Anderson was Madison’s doctor as well, added, “Nick took Maddie out of town for some intense TLC.”
The doctor nodded, his expression softening. “He’s a good man. More important, he’s good for your sister.”
“Santana believes he’s the luckiest man on the planet to be married to her. He already had plans ready for when Megan or Serena became pregnant. Less than an hour after hearing Serena’s news, he had Maddie in his Jeep.”
He laughed. “She deserves every bit of pampering from her husband.” Anderson opened the door. “I don’t want to see you in here again anytime soon, Josh.” And he was gone.
Doc Anderson was right. Madison deserved the pampering. She dserved a happy life, one Nick was determined to give her. Josh grabbed his utility belt and what was left of his uniform shirt and exited the room. He stopped by the nurses desk, waited for his discharge papers to process.
“Cahill.”
Josh turned, stared at Jordan. “Following me, Special Agent Jordan?”
“Forget your basic crime scene rules? You should have waited for me at the scene.”
“Ethan’s orders.” Yeah, he felt a little bad for throwing his brother-in-law to the federal wolf. Very little. “He was concerned about possible cracked ribs.”
“Are they?”
“Nope.” He grabbed the clipboard the desk nurse pushed his direction and signed his name. “What do you want, Jordan?”
“An interview would be nice,” came the sarcastic response. “Can you squeeze me into your busy social calendar today?”
“You already have my statement.” Rod had taken his statement before he left for the hospital. “Nothing else to add. If I thought of anything, you’d be the first one I’d call.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
The corners of his lips curled upward. Smart man. “I’m working third shift. If we absolutely have to do an interview, we do it at the station. I’ll give you one hour, not one minute beyond. I’m not getting shot on duty because of fatigue.”
“Can’t handle a couple sleepless days? Thought you were a big, bad black ops man. Lots of redacted stuff in your files.”
His lips twitched at the frustration coming through in Jordan’s voice. So the special agent in charge had tried to run him in the system. Almost everything in his military files was classified thanks to Delta. And, no, he wasn’t concerned about fatigue on duty. Josh didn’t want to be tied down with Jordan if Del needed him. He’d go through whoever stood in his way to get to her. If he went through Jordan, he’d spend some time behind bars unless he pulled a few strings. Preferred to save those strings until it really mattered. “What’s it going to be, Jordan? Station for one hour or do I go home to sleep?”
A scowl, then, “Station.”
That’s what he figured. Josh left with hospital without a backward glance and drove to the Otter Creek police station. He nodded at the desk sergeant and walked down the hall to the bullpen. In Ethan’s office, he dropped the discharge papers and his clearance to return to work on the desk.
His brother-in-law’s forehead furrowed. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Jordan tracked me down at the emergency room, insisted on an interview.”
Ethan got to his feet, frowning. “I’ll take care of it. Go sleep.”
“We’re doing the interview in Interrogation. He has one hour.”
At exactly noon, a hard knock sounded on the door. Ethan. Right on time. Josh pushed back from the wooden table and stood. “Time’s up, Jordan. I’m going to bed.”
“We’re not finished.”
The door swung open. Ethan stepped in the room. “Go,” he said, spearing Jordan with a pointed glare.
With Jordan ripping into Ethan for interfering in a federal investigation, Josh walked into the sun-drenched afternoon. After parking in his assigned slot at the apartment, he glanced at Alex’s SUV. A
new windshield glittered in the sunlight. Bear delivered again. The former Marine rocked.
He climbed the stairs to his apartment and slid his key in the lock. Hard rock music boomed through the apartment. Josh rolled his eyes. Alex’s taste in music hadn’t improved since separating from the Army. The clang of weights told him his friend’s location. He leaned his shoulder against the door jamb as his friend toweled sweat off his face. “Saw the new glass.”
Alex grunted. “Cost me a bundle.”
“I’m sure Bear smiled all the way to the bank.”
“Back late, Major.”
“Ran into our shooter again.”
Alex’s head snapped up. He draped the towel around his neck. “Get him?”
“A piece of him.” He explained the events of the morning.
“The detective’s lucky to be alive.”
“Ethan made that point loud and clear. Rod’s on midnights for the next two months.” Josh straightened. “If you want to shower, I’ll take one after you’re finished.”
His friend grabbed his water bottle and his shower gear. A minute later, water ran in the bathroom. In his own room, Josh hung up his utility belt, secured his weapon and unloaded his pockets. He glanced at his cell phone. Still nothing from Del. Good, he supposed. Meant she and Ivy were safe. He missed her.
Josh placed his phone on the nightstand and dropped on the bed on his back, eyes closing. The joke was on him. After telling Del not to forget him, she’d occupied his thoughts since she left with the marshals. No telling how long the feds would keep her and Ivy under wraps. Del thought capturing or taking out the shooter solved her problem. He wished the solution was that easy. Someone hired the killer. Until he was behind bars, Del and Ivy weren’t safe. Smoking him out might take a long time.
His eyes flew open. Had Ethan talked with Milo Tyler? Someone should keep eyes on Del’s family in case the shooter tried using them as leverage.
On the nightstand, his cell phone chirped. He grabbed it and checked the screen. A smile bloomed. Phone pressed to his ear, he said, “Quinn Gallagher. Long time, bro. Doing okay?”