“Hey,” Chloe said. “You coming?”
Her eyes fell on a man huddled under a raincoat, hands shoved into his pockets, standing on the fringes of the media. Recognition hit her. Derek.
No way was she letting this opportunity pass her by. “I’ll be there in a second. You go ahead.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I see someone I want to talk to.” No need to tell Chloe if she hadn’t spotted Derek herself.
Her sister shrugged and headed for the church. Derek didn’t acknowledge her, which spoke volumes to Izzy. He didn’t want to be seen, but he wasn’t going to miss Kevin’s funeral. She walked slowly, keeping her head averted like she didn’t notice him.
Only when she was about to brush past him did she do a one-eighty and come face-to-face with him.
He startled like a doe in headlights and turned to walk away from her.
She clamped down on his right forearm. “Not so fast. You have some explaining to do.”
“Not here, Izzy.”
“Oh yes, right here. Very quietly and very ‘do not bring attention to ourselves’ right here. Understood?”
He scowled. “If I try to leave, you’re going to follow me, aren’t you?”
“You know me. What do you think?”
He sighed and nodded, still keeping his head down. Most people, even those who knew him, wouldn’t recognize him in the raincoat and floppy rain hat. He also had a good start on a beard and mustache. But the raincoat was one she’d given him for Christmas last year. “What do you want me to say, Izzy? I can’t tell you why I was at the warehouse.”
“I have to write that supplemental report, Derek. I’m not jeopardizing my career any longer. I’ve given you your twenty-four hours and then some.”
“I kn—”
“And let me just say this. I don’t care who’s on that list. If my name and Mom’s name are on there, then it’s not a list of dirty cops.”
“It’s oka—”
“Just because Mom and I are on some stupid list doesn’t mean—”
“Isabelle Marie!”
She blinked. “What!”
“Shut up!”
Izzy snapped her lips shut and tried to calm her pounding pulse. Anger licked like fire along her spine.
He placed a hand on her shoulder and glanced around, then his gaze came back to lock eyes with her. “I don’t think you’re a dirty cop, Izzy.”
The fire fizzled a little. “Okay. Well, thanks. Because I’m not.” She frowned. “But what made you decide that?”
“I followed you from the warehouse. You didn’t call anyone or meet with anyone—other than Ryan, but he was already on the way before you knew I was there—or said anything about it.”
The anger sparked again. “Nice. Thanks for your confidence.”
“I’m serious. And to put your mind at ease about the guy I shot in the warehouse, Bonner knows everything and is taking care of it.”
“Oh. Good.” The relief that swept over her was almost palpable.
“Yes.” He looked away, his tension obvious.
“You really think Mom is involved in something dirty?” she asked.
“Look.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapped the screen, then showed it to her.
She gaped. “That’s Mom meeting with Tony Bianchi!” Her low hiss escaped on a ragged breath.
“I know.”
“But … why?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t asked her. I didn’t want to tip her off if—”
“There has to be an explanation.”
“That’s not the only time she’s met with him, Iz.”
Izzy didn’t care. There simply had to be another explanation. “So, that’s why you were there at the warehouse. You were following Mom?”
“Yeah, but she wasn’t there this time. I didn’t get a look at who he was meeting with in his office. It’s glass on the side facing the front door, but the rest is walls. I couldn’t see from my angle, and whoever came in used the door from the outside, not the door you and Kevin came in.”
“So how do you know it wasn’t Mom if you didn’t see who came in?”
“Because she was texting me, asking me where I was and to come to her office immediately if I got that message.”
“Obviously you didn’t go.”
“Obviously.” He rubbed his tired, red eyes. “I just can’t figure out what the list is. What the connection is. I’m pretty convinced at this point that it’s not dirty cops—at least not all of them. It could be the two on there who were busted last week are just a coincidence, but why would this list be in the hands of …”
“Of who, Derek?”
“Someone involved in organized crime.”
“Bianchi?”
His eyes shuttered. “No, I didn’t get it from him.”
She frowned. “So where’d you get it?”
“From a CI.”
“Oookay.”
“Sorry.”
The sheer weariness in his voice and expression kept her from pressing the issue. “Fine, then.”
“How’s Ryan doing?” he asked.
“He’s surviving. And determined to catch the guys who killed Kevin.”
Derek sighed. “What were you and Kev doing at the warehouse?” he asked.
“Kevin got a tip that something was going down and he wanted to be the one to get the evidence.”
“He wanted to be a show-off,” Derek muttered.
“He wasn’t so much showing off as he was just … overeager. I went along to try and keep him from getting himself killed.” Tears filled her eyes and she sniffed. “I didn’t do a very good job of that, did I?”
“Not your fault, Iz.”
“I know.”
Derek’s gaze swept the area again. “I’m going to get a seat. I’m going to give you all the names and I want you to see if you can come up with a connection.”
“Fine. Text it or email it to me. I’ll take a look.”
He cleared his throat. “Uh … sorry I was so heavy-handed at the warehouse. I didn’t know it was you at first. And sorry I had to play the bad guy, but I just had to be sure you weren’t dirty.”
It hurt that he doubted. “It’s all right. It’s already forgotten.” Or would be eventually.
He cleared his throat. “I love you, sis.”
This time she hesitated. “Oh boy.”
“What?”
After another nanosecond of hesitation to debate with herself about the wisdom of speaking, she said, “I broke in to your office.”
He raised a brow. “You did what?”
“You said you were undercover, so I went looking for your ops plan.”
His face tightened.
“So,” she said, “if anyone says they saw someone in your office, it was me.”
“I see.”
She bit her tongue.
“And did you find it?” he asked. “The ops plan?”
“You know I didn’t. I found the folder, but no plan.” She hesitated. “Because there isn’t one, is there?”
“No, there’s not.”
More silence fell between them and she sighed. “And you’re not going to share why you’re undercover with no ops plan and Mom doesn’t know about it.”
“Can’t.”
“Fine.”
“Let’s go inside. I’ll send you the file.”
Izzy took a deep breath and nodded. It was time to face her partner’s funeral.
21
Ryan sat with his family in the small alcove off to the right of the rest of the congregation. The seating allowed a semblance of privacy for the family and a good view of those in attendance.
His mother shifted slightly in her seat and he glanced at her. The continued blank look caused a resurgence of concern. Would she even remember the funeral? With a frown, he focused back on what was going on around him.
The sorrow surrounding him threatened to choke him. How he hated funerals. He slid another glan
ce at his mother, then over to his father. The man had been a rock through the past several days.
Usually, he never said much unless he was in full story-telling mode; however, Ryan knew his father well enough to understand that his brain hadn’t shut off since he’d learned of Kevin’s death.
And his poor mother. With each passing minute, she seemed to slip further away into her mind, the vacant expression appearing more on her face than emotion. Sometimes she responded to people, sometimes she didn’t seem capable.
Ryan had seen it before—after combat missions when soldiers had simply suffered too much for their mind to process. So it didn’t. It went to some safe place in order to retreat from reality.
Some never came back and suffered permanent mental illness. He had to make sure that didn’t happen to his mother.
The service passed, a blur of words and music. Ryan appreciated the injection of hope in the message, and he fully believed he’d see his brother again one day in heaven. However, while it truly did comfort him to know that, it didn’t lessen the pain of losing Kevin on earth.
Or the agony of seeing his parents suffering so greatly. And honestly, if one more person told him that Kevin was in a better place, he might just punch them. He sighed.
No, he wouldn’t punch anyone. They were good people who didn’t know what to say so they said the wrong thing. He just had to remind himself of that.
Within the L-shaped church, most of the congregation faced the pulpit. From Ryan’s vantage point in the alcove, he could see the St. John family sitting in the first two rows. Even Derek was there, sitting a ways behind them, looking ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Ryan noticed he’d taken a seat near one of the emergency exits.
What was up with him? But at least he would be there for security. He glanced at the door in the back to his left. It led out to the parking lot. Two officers guarded it. He swung his eyes back to the St. John family and his gaze connected with Izzy’s. The pure sorrow there hit him hard. As well as the raw fury barely held in check.
He got it. He felt it.
Giving her a slow nod, he tried to convey his own thoughts. His agreement with the anger. Her jaw relaxed slightly and she nodded back.
The connection with her shifted something inside of him. He’d always cared about Izzy. Very much. As a teen, she’d never been that awkward, gangly person he remembered his sister being. She’d been pretty and popular, but there was a kindness in her that not everyone had. That was just a part of what drew him to her.
He also realized what he was doing. Thinking about Izzy allowed him to avoid the reality of Kevin’s funeral. He didn’t want to listen, to be aware, to hear everyone’s final goodbyes.
Then his attention was drawn to his left as the side door opened.
A large man stepped inside, wearing a long black overcoat. A mustache and beard covered most of the man’s face, but the minute his eyes connected with Ryan’s, he recognized him.
Lamar Young.
The man from the parking garage.
The one who’d set fire to Izzy’s home. In disguise, but it was him nonetheless. He couldn’t hide that size of his.
The Hulk, as Izzy distastefully referred to him, stood still, his hands hidden in the pockets of his large coat. The door with the wooden trim and glass pane shut behind him.
Ryan stiffened and his hand went to his weapon. It was all he could do not to bolt from his chair. But if he did, would the man pull a weapon and start shooting? What was he here for?
Frozen in place, Ryan glanced to the left and caught the eye of Officer Bob Gillespie. Ryan nodded toward the intruder and mouthed, “Stop him.”
Bob straightened and nudged the other officer, Marco Jamison, who stood beside him. Discreetly, they planted themselves between the newcomer and Ryan’s family.
In a flash, Ryan knew the man was there to make a statement. He was watching, waiting to make his next move. The man’s eyes went to Izzy, deliberate in their perusal of the people who now had their backs to him. He lifted a hand, his fingers in the shape of a gun, pointed it at Izzy, and pulled the “trigger.”
Rage wanted to blind him. Instead, Ryan narrowed his eyes, dipped his hand into his pocket, and pulled out Kevin’s phone. At least he could show Young that Izzy didn’t have it anymore. Maybe he’d quit going after her.
Ryan waved the device at the man, who started toward him. Bob and Marco grabbed his arms and the big man stopped, a snarl twisting his lips.
Ryan dropped the phone back into his pocket. All the while, he kept his other hand on his weapon, ready to draw it and use it if necessary. His family had turned around, watching the scene play out, gaping at the intruder.
Other officers closed in, trying to be discreet but determined to remove the man from the church.
The Hulk didn’t move for a few seconds, then with one last smirk in Ryan’s direction, turned and let himself be ushered out. Six officers followed him to the door and he raised his hands in surrender.
Ryan was grateful the guy didn’t put up a fight, but with all of the security around the church, how had he managed to slip inside in the first place?
Ryan touched his mother’s shoulder and she simply sat there, her blank stare never breaking. He leaned over. “Sorry, Mom,” he whispered in her ear. “I need to take care of something.”
She still didn’t respond and Ryan’s chest tightened. Should he go or stay? The rest of the family was looking at him like he’d grown another head.
Indecision warred within him. Marco and Bob could handle him. Ryan could interrogate him after the funeral.
But this man had something to do with Kevin’s death. He looked at his father and mouthed, “Sorry.”
His dad waved him on and Ryan stepped outside to find Bob and Marco picking themselves up off the ground. Young was nowhere to be seen. Ryan raced over to Bob and helped him to his feet. “Where is he?”
“Gone. He acted like he planned to cooperate, the other officers went back to their posts or the service, and then when it was just the two of us, he unleashed those massive fists on us. Once we were down, he jumped into a car he had waiting and took off.”
Marco was still on the ground. He groaned and pressed a hand to his cheek. “Broken,” he gasped. “Arghhhh!”
“Bob, he’s the one who blew up Izzy’s home. Go after him if you can and I’ll call an ambulance for Marco!” Two more officers arrived. “John, you and Shelly go too.”
Bob flinched as he swiped the blood from his cheek, then he and the others climbed into their cruisers and took off. Ryan could see Bob spitting words into his microphone as he raced from the church parking lot. Other officers fell in behind him. He badly wanted to join in the chase, but Marco needed him.
Ryan rushed back to the wounded man’s side and knelt next to him. “Hang on, Marco.” He got on his phone and requested an ambulance, then gave the dispatcher the information she needed to send more officers in the right direction after Bob and Young.
The door opened behind him and he turned to see Izzy hurrying toward him. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Marco’s hurt. I’ve got an ambulance on the way. The press is focused on the front of the church right now, but when the ambulance gets here, they’re going to know something’s up. Be prepared.”
“Got it.” She hurried to the man’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Help’s coming. Just be as still as possible.”
He nodded and shut his eyes, letting his head rest on the ground.
Izzy looked up at Ryan. “What happened?”
“Your fri—Lamar Young, the Hulk.”
She grimaced and paled. “Great. I only got a glimpse of him when he stepped inside—I thought his build resembled the dude. Wonderful. Just wonderful.”
Ryan wished he could have kept the information from her, but there wasn’t any sense in even trying.
“He came looking for me?” she asked.
“He came looking for something. Regardles
s, he knows I have the phone now.”
Her eyes widened. “How does he know that?”
“I showed it to him.” Taunted him with it, actually, but he’d keep that to himself.
The ambulance pulled into the parking lot, lights flashing but siren off. Within seconds, the paramedics were working on Marco—and the press was rounding the side of the church to chase down the excitement.
Ryan ignored them. Marco grunted and waved at Ryan.
“What is it?”
“Geh -ack in deh,” Marco whispered. “Doan -iss deh ressss.”
It was hard to understand him, but Ryan knew what the man meant. He squeezed his bicep and nodded. “Come on,” he said to Izzy. “Let’s get back inside before my mother decides to kill me.”
Izzy shuddered. “That’s not the least bit funny.”
“I didn’t mean it to be.”
He ushered her back in. Fortunately, the only ones who noticed their exit and reentry were his family. No one seated in the pews of the church facing the pulpit could see them coming in the side door. Ryan continued to stand. Izzy stayed beside him. Lilianna turned and lifted a brow at him and he gave her a tight smile. She turned back to the musician on the stage playing the closing song.
And then it was over.
Ryan drew in a deep breath. At this point, the family would normally be escorted out to head for the graveside service, but Kevin had explicitly stated during a conversation that he didn’t want one. So, now they were honoring his wishes.
Ryan’s phone vibrated and he lifted it to his ear. “Yeah.” He kept his voice low, even though people were stirring to leave.
“This is Bob.”
“You get him?”
“No, he outran me. Totally lost me, lost all of us. We’re still looking, but wanted to give you an update in case he manages to double back. I gave a description of the car, so hopefully we’ll have something soon.”
“Thanks.”
Bob fell silent, then sighed. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t recognize him and neither did Marco. If we had, he never would have gotten through the door.”
He might have, using his brute strength, but Ryan decided not to mention that. “It’s all right. The only reason I recognized him is because he looked right at me and smirked.”
Oath of Honor Page 17