Reuben turned, keeping the gun steady, the bullet end pressed beneath his chin. “I can’t. They’ll go after my kids.”
Heart thudding, Ryan shook his head. “Don’t do this, man. Your kids need you.”
“Naw, they’re better off with Patty’s mom. And at least they’re taken care of for the rest of their lives. I’ve already turned the money over to my in-laws.”
Ryan realized the man had been thinking about this for a long time. He wasn’t quite as blasé about his actions as he wanted to appear.
“The kids might be better off with her for now, but once you get some help, life can be good again, man.” Probably not, but Ryan wasn’t about to voice that.
Reuben’s eyes glittered with grief. “Life. What a crock. Life just didn’t turn out the way I thought it would, you know? Patty wasn’t supposed to die so young.”
“Neither was Kevin,” Izzy said. “Or Chris. Put the gun down.”
It was like the man hadn’t heard her. “Man, I’ve been living on borrowed time. This is the way it was always going to end,” he continued. “I think I knew that the minute I gave the location of the convoy to Nuristani’s man.” He laughed without humor. “I ate some tainted meat so I’d be sick enough to have an excuse to stay back. Never been so sick in my life and wondered if I’d actually live through it.” His now empty eyes met Ryan’s. “My kids think I’m a hero. I can’t go to prison.” He lowered the weapon and Ryan breathed a small puff of relief. Then Reuben’s eyes met his once more. “But I just discovered something.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t have the guts to kill myself.”
Reuben’s right hand lowered and Ryan drew in a relieved breath. The man was going to surrender. “Put the weapon down, Reuben.”
“Yeah.” As the man started to lower the gun to the floor, the window exploded.
Izzy cried out as red sprayed the air. She heard footsteps on the stairs and then in the hall. She spun to see backup coming into the room, weapons pointed at her. Displaying her badge, she moved to the two bodies on the floor. “Call an ambulance!”
Someone said, “Do it.”
Izzy dropped beside Ryan. “Are you hit?”
He grunted and rolled away from Reuben. “No.” The shot had sent Reuben flying forward to slam into Ryan, taking them both to the floor—and covering Ryan in blood and other matter. “Is he dead?”
It sure looked like it. The lower half of his face was … gone. A red mass of blood and tissue hung from the remains. Her stomach churned, but she ignored it and reached for his wrist. A slow thud hit her fingers. “He’s still alive.”
She grabbed a towel and bolted back to Reuben’s side, where she dropped to her knees and pressed the towel against the missing part of his face. She didn’t know what was medically possible to do for the man should he live, but wanted to give him every option to survive. Stopping or slowing the loss of blood was priority one. She knew officers were searching for the shooter and she prayed they found him. For now, Izzy concentrated on keeping Reuben alive.
Paramedics rushed into the room and Izzy moved away as they took over. She looked around for Ryan and spotted him near the bathroom. He’d grabbed another towel and was wiping his pale face and hands while talking to Justin O’Keefe, another detective he worked with occasionally. Izzy interrupted them. “Bianchi knew we were here. He had a sniper just looking for an opportunity.”
“Looks like he found it.”
“But that means he’s got someone following us.”
“Yeah.”
She touched his arm. “Are you okay?”
He briefly met her gaze. “Physically, yeah.”
“Right.”
O’Keefe patted Ryan on the shoulder—the one that didn’t have blood on it—and walked away. Ryan looked at her and grimaced. “I’d really like to puke right now.”
“That makes two of us. SLED is here.”
He shot her a grateful look and tossed the towel back into the bathroom. “Let’s give our statement, wait on a search warrant, then get busy searching.” He looked at Charice. “Can you get the ball rolling on that warrant?”
“Consider it done.” She walked away, her phone already pressed to her ear.
“What are we searching for?” Izzy asked.
“Anything that might have the names of people that Reuben may have contacted who have ties to Bianchi. We find those, we find the guy who shot Kevin.”
“And I know where to start.”
“Where?”
“When we were clearing the downstairs, there’s a room that he’s using as an office. There’s a laptop on the desk.”
He started for the hallway.
“Out of the way, please. Make way. Let us through.”
The paramedics had Reuben on the gurney and were headed for the door. Ryan and Izzy moved out of the way. Organized chaos reigned as each officer stepped into the role he or she was assigned.
Ryan nodded. “CSU will take the laptop and we’ll tell them what to look for. In the meantime, let’s see what else we can find.” He tapped the shoulder of one of the other paramedics left. “You have some extra gloves?”
“Sure.” He passed a handful over to Ryan, who pulled on a set, then handed some to Izzy. She donned the gloves and together they walked down the stairs and into the office.
“Can’t touch anything until the warrant gets here,” Izzy said. “And you need to remove yourself from this area now anyway. Charice can take it from here. I can help her if she needs me to.”
“I know.” So he paced for the next forty minutes until an officer stepped into the room and slapped the warrant into his outstretched hand.
He handed it to Charice, who waved it in the air. “All right, folks, let’s get busy.”
For the next thirty minutes, they searched—and came up empty. Ryan sighed when she told him. “If he has anything, it’s got to be on the laptop.”
“That’s my guess.” Izzy pulled the gloves off and stuck them in her pocket. “What now?”
Ryan grimaced. “Lee’s probably outside waiting for me.”
“He’s going to want to know what happened for sure.”
“So, let’s grab him. Then I go home and get a shower.”
25
Izzy walked into her mother’s house that evening and plopped herself at the kitchen table. “Need some help?”
“Just peeling potatoes, hon. Is Chloe coming?”
“I think so. She had to run by the office for something, but said she’d swing by in a few minutes.”
“Great.” Her mother flashed her a grin and laid into the potato with the peeler once more. “Your father won’t be able to make it, but it will be nice to have you and Chloe here.”
On some days, Tabitha St. John made an imposing figure in her dress blues and granite expression. Other days, she simply dressed for the office in a professional, perfectly pressed pantsuit that conveyed a woman of power and confidence.
Tonight, with her still dark hair pulled into a ponytail, no makeup, and her Gamecock sweatpants, she looked at least ten years younger than her fifty-six years. Her black zip-up hoodie completed her off-the-clock outfit, and Izzy decided she liked this side of her mother better than any other. She respected her professional side, of course, but she didn’t always like her in that mode.
But here, in the warmth of her home, seeing her like she once had as a child, brought Izzy comfort like nothing else could.
Only tonight, she couldn’t fully relax as she figured her mom would soon bring up the parking garage incident. And Izzy wanted to talk to her about all the protection she’d been noticing. However, if she broached that subject, then her mother might start talking about the incident in the parking garage.
So Izzy kept her mouth shut for now and watched the local news playing on the small television mounted on the side of the cabinet next to the sink.
Her mother turned. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Why?”<
br />
“A man had half his face blown off in front of you. That’s hard to unsee.”
Izzy rubbed her eyes. “You’re right. It is hard. And I’ll have a few nightmares about it, I’m sure. The fact that he did some really rotten stuff helps put it into perspective.”
“Hmm.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you believe that. And if that helps you cope, then I’ll go with it.”
Izzy sighed. “How is he? The man who was shot?”
“Still hovering between this life and the next one. He’ll never be the same, and if he lives, he’ll wish he was dead.” Tears pooled in her mother’s eyes—not a completely rare occurrence, but odd enough that Izzy straightened.
“Mom?”
A swipe of her wrist dispelled the tears. “I’m sorry, hon, it’s just sometimes I wish you’d gone into some profession that was less violent.”
“Like Ruthie?”
“I’m not sure being a surgeon is any less violent some days. I was thinking more along the lines of accounting or a chef. You always did love to cook.”
“Yeah.”
A knock on the door pulled Izzy to her feet. “I’ll get it.” When she opened the door, Felicia Denning’s smiling face greeted her. “Oh, hi, come on in.”
Izzy’s mother turned. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I texted and called your personal phone, but you didn’t answer. Since it wasn’t an emergency and not work-related, I left that number alone.”
Her mother glanced at the phone she’d left on the table. “I’ve had my hands in food and haven’t checked my phone. It’s still on silent too.”
The work number would have rung. It was never turned off and the volume was always on high.
Felicia stepped into the kitchen and set a bag of oranges on the counter. “Marcus said he was running low when I saw him at the courthouse yesterday. I was on my way home from the Marshalls’ house. I saw Izzy’s car outside and decided to swing by and drop these off. She shrugged out of her coat and took a chair next to the one Izzy had just reclaimed.
Her mother laughed. “Running low? That means he’s down to about six in the refrigerator, then.”
Izzy’s father enjoyed fresh-squeezed orange juice each morning.
Felicia smiled. “Jeff got back from his trip to Miami last night.” A pilot for a major airline, Felicia’s husband was always bringing back goodies from places he visited.
“Marcus will appreciate it. I might have to snitch one or two myself.” She turned back to the sink and rinsed her hands. “How were the Marshalls?”
Felicia sighed and shook her head. “They’re coping. I think. Mrs. Marshall seemed to be much better than the day of the funeral.”
Melissa Endicott appeared on the screen and Felicia nodded to the television. “Can you turn that up?”
“Sure.” Izzy grabbed the remote and upped the volume.
“… come out and vote. As you know, I’m ahead in the polls. Let me just remind you that there’s a reason for that, but I still need your vote.”
“What do you think, Mom?”
Her mother sighed. “I think she’ll win. She says all the right things and the people—and officers—like what she has to say. They’re ready for change.”
“And?”
She shrugged. “And I’ll—” she shot a glance at Felicia—“we’ll do our best to work with her.”
“Exactly,” Felicia said.
Izzy’s phone dinged and she glanced at the text. Then sat up straight. “I’ve got to go.”
“But you haven’t eaten.”
Izzy raised a brow. “It’s business.”
“You’re off duty.”
She went to her mother and kissed her cheek. “And now I’m back on.”
“Then tell me what it’s about.”
Izzy hesitated, then shrugged. “Ryan got a lead on Tony Bianchi.”
Her mother’s eyes narrowed and she exchanged a glance with Felicia before lasering back in on Izzy. “Why is he telling you this?”
“Because Kevin was my partner, Mom, and I’m going to be involved in taking down his killers.”
“I get that, but why is Ryan involved?”
“Don’t worry, he’s not. He’s staying in the background, but you know he’s being fed information.”
“I know. I expected it, but he’d better not do anything to jeopardize an arrest when it comes to Bianchi.”
“He won’t. You know Ryan.”
“I do. He’s a good detective, but he also just buried another brother and fellow officer. He’s riding an emotional roller coaster right now.”
She hugged her mother one more time. “I’ll watch out for him, I promise.”
“Hmm.”
Izzy raised a brow. “Hmm? What does that mean?”
“Felicia, what do you think that means?” her mother asked.
Felicia looked up from her phone. “Oh, no, I’m not getting in the middle of this.” Izzy and her mother stared at her and she finally grimaced and set her phone on the table. “Fine, if you insist. From a purely professional point of view, Ryan shouldn’t be anywhere near this case. From a personal point of view, I understand his feelings. However, that takes me back to the professional point of view. Because of those feelings, he should stay far, far away.”
Izzy’s mother nodded. “Thank you. I agree.” She looked back at Izzy. “Do I need to talk to him?”
“No, ma’am,” Izzy said, wishing she hadn’t received the message at that particular moment. “I’ll do it. But just to be clear, he’s not doing anything he shouldn’t. When it comes to Kevin’s investigation, he’s not handling evidence, he’s not talking to witnesses or doing any kind of investigating—at least none that will adversely affect the outcome of the case or cause problems in any trial that might happen. He was involved in the search of Reuben’s place today, but that doesn’t have anything to do with Kevin. They’re two separate cases.”
“But you’re not with him every second of the day. You don’t know what he’s doing with his time off,” Felicia said.
True enough, but it irritated her that the woman would believe Ryan capable of being devious like that. She had to remind herself that the deputy chief hadn’t known the Marshalls as long as she had. “Seriously, he’s done nothing wrong. Everything has been strictly by the book and everyone can prove it. But I’ll keep you updated.”
“Where’s Bianchi?” her mother asked.
“I’m not sure. I’m meeting Ryan at a Starbucks near the place.”
“Any word on Lamar Young?” Felicia asked.
Izzy shook her head. “He seems to have been swallowed by the earth.”
“He’ll surface,” her mother warned, “and when he does, he’s not going to play nice. Showing up at Kevin’s funeral tells us that he’s either certifiable—or he just doesn’t care.”
“Or both,” Izzy muttered.
“Exactly. So watch your back and make sure someone else is watching it for good measure.”
Izzy kissed her cheek. “Apparently, that’s what I have you for.”
“You noticed, huh?”
Pursing her lips, she rolled her eyes toward Felicia. “Good night. Keep Mom out of trouble.”
“She’s not the one walking into it.”
Touché.
Izzy lifted a hand in a wave. “I’ll be in touch.”
Ryan sat at the table and sipped his fourth cup of coffee. He’d had way too much, but at least this one was decaf. Jittery from the effects of the caffeine and the word that Bianchi should soon be in custody, Ryan waited impatiently. The building across the street housed the penthouse where Bianchi was reportedly holed up.
Izzy stepped into the restaurant and Ryan’s breath caught. Out of uniform, she looked only slightly older than legal. But no one knew better than he how deceptive looks could be. He knew the sharp mind behind those green eyes. Her hair swung in her usual ponytail, and for a moment he envisioned it spr
ead across her shoulders, the sunlight glinting off the dark strands.
He shifted when she settled in the chair beside him.
And then guilt pounded him. He looked away. What was he doing even being attracted to her? His brother had been killed and he was there to see his killer brought to justice. Romance was out of the question right now.
He just wished seeing Izzy didn’t stir up emotions better left alone.
And yet, here he was.
“Ryan? Hello? Anyone home?”
He realized she’d been talking to him while he stared at the windows of the penthouse. “Oh. Sorry.”
She shrugged. “Lost in thought, huh?”
“Something like that.”
“Want to share?”
Boy, did he. “Just praying this goes off like it’s supposed to.”
She nodded and pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped the screen, then handed him the device. “While we’re waiting, take a look at this list and tell me if you know any of the people on it.”
Ryan scanned the list of names. “Where’d you get this?”
“Derek.”
“So, this is the supposed list of dirty cops?”
“Yes.”
“I recognize a lot of these names and I can tell you right now, they’re not dirty.”
“What about the two who are now in prison?”
Ryan shrugged. “Coincidence.”
“So what else could it be?”
“I have no idea. Send it to me and let me study it a bit more.” He sat up straight and pushed his coffee to the side. “They’re here.”
She lifted her gaze from the phone to look across the street. “I should be in there,” she murmured. “I want to be a part of it.”
“Let the team do its job. There are reasons we shouldn’t be there.” Reasons he didn’t like, but … “I’m glad you’re here with me.”
She shot him a tight smile. “Yeah.”
He understood. It took everything in him to sit tight and not join the unit getting ready to raid Bianchi’s hiding place. But he couldn’t … wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize getting Kevin’s killer. And to do that, everything had to be by the book.
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