Deadly Bonds (A Detective Jackson Mystery)

by L. J. Sellers

  Buckley shook his head. “I just wanted my boy.” He closed his eyes. “I need to rest.”

  Jackson left, resisting the urge to punch him as a parting gesture. Buckley’s DNA had already been sent to the state lab, and Jackson hoped they still had enough blood sample from Logan Grayson to run a comparison against Andra’s trace evidence. He wanted to know who had killed her. But he would find out tomorrow. Today, he would spend with his family.

  Later, while he was putting together a puzzle with Benjie, his phone beeped with a text from Kera: They’re taking Danette off life support. Heading to the hospital.

  Oh no. That meant she would die soon. He texted back: On my way. Jackson gathered up the puzzle pieces. “I have to go to the hospital and see a friend.”

  “With the baby?” Benjie asked.

  The boy remembered visiting Kera and Micah in the hospital. “Yes. Would you like to go?” As if the kid had a choice. This was his and Benjie’s life now. “Put on your shoes, please.”

  Jackson padded down the hall to Katie’s room. He and his daughter had watched a movie together—a comedy—the night before, and it had felt like old times. Cautiously optimistic that Katie would stay with him for a while, he knocked on her door. “I’m headed to the hospital to see Kera. I’d like you to come.”

  She opened the door halfway, still in her pajamas. “Is Danette dying?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then no. I can’t handle that right now. I’m sorry.”

  “I can’t handle leaving you alone. Not yet.”

  “Sorry, but you have to. Derrick is here and I’ll be fine.”

  Why did she have to be so difficult? “I need to keep you close by for a few days. Humor me.” The department would make him take some time off. Even though the perp hadn’t died, Jackson had still been involved in another on-the-job shooting. Downtime was mandatory.

  “I have something I have to do today,” Katie insisted, “but I’m not going anywhere.”

  He felt himself give in. He couldn’t smother her or she would take off again. “Okay. I’m taking Benjie with me. Keep the doors locked.” Derrick was home, and she would be fine, he told himself. The threat was over.

  “Give Kera a hug for me. Tell her I just can’t leave the house yet.”

  Kera would understand. She was an incredible woman, who deserved someone better than him. Jackson wondered if her ex would be at the hospital too. He hoped not. He and Kera had important issues to discuss.

  Benjie waited by the door, looking so cute and cooperative, it made his heart melt. Please let it last until he’s at least thirteen.

  Jackson stopped in the small waiting room on the ICU floor and called Kera to let her know he was there. She joined him a minute later, carrying a sleepy little Micah. When he saw her and the baby—who’d lost both his parents before he could talk—Jackson knew what he had to do.

  First, he hugged Kera tightly. “I love you. I’m so sorry this is happening.” Kera had only known her daughter-in-law for a few years, but she loved everyone in her life fiercely.

  “Danette took her last breath a few minutes ago. Her mother is still in there with her.”

  “What can I do? Make calls or help plan a service for her?”

  “Just tell me we’re okay. That you’re not leaving me for someone else.”

  “We’re more than okay.” Jackson plunged in. “Let’s move in together and raise these boys as a family. Micah needs a father, and Benjie needs a mother.”

  She stepped back and gave him a long, uncertain look. “That’s not a good reason to be together.”

  “That’s not the main reason. We love each other and we’re good together. Why should we each do this alone?” It wasn’t a romantic proposal, but it was heartfelt. He’d already made a commitment to Benjie, but Kera deserved it more.

  She smiled. “We do love each other, and we’ll talk about it. But right now, I just need some time at home alone. Will you take Micah for a while this afternoon? I’ll drop him by later with all his things.”

  She was testing him to see if he could handle two little boys. “I’m happy to. I’ll cook dinner for all of us tonight as well.”

  Kera gave a soft laugh. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, but suit yourself.”

  On the way home, instead of nodding off for a nap, Benjie began to cry. “I want Tuffy.”

  “Who’s Tuffy?” Jackson looked over his shoulder.

  “My co-ah bear.”

  “What’s a co-ah bear?” He didn’t get the co-ah part.

  In the rearview mirror, Benjie rubbed his eyes. “He’s snuggly.”

  A stuffed toy. It was probably still at the Pershing house. Jackson didn’t want to drive over there. “We’ll get you a new bear.”

  “I want Tuffy.”

  He changed his mind. Benjie probably had more clothes and things he should pick up too, if they weren’t too damaged from the smoke or fire.

  The Pershing house looked more dilapidated every time he saw it. Someone had broken a front window and tagged the side with spray paint. He wondered how long it would sit like that—vacant, partially burned, and abandoned by both the owners and the bank. Would the neighbors force the city to condemn it? As he walked through the door, Benjie let out a whimper. Jackson picked him up, hating to bring him in, yet unwilling to leave him in the car, even with the doors locked.

  He headed for the small room where Benjie’s things had been. It smelled like smoke, but was mostly unscathed. All that remained was a basket of dirty clothes and some coloring books. No stuffed bear. “It’s not here.” He kissed the boy’s cheek. “Sorry. Did you leave it outside?”

  The boy pointed at the closet where Jackson had lifted him through the trapdoor.

  Was the toy under the house? He started to tell him no, then changed his mind and headed back to his car for a flashlight. Was this how he would be with Benjie? Unable to tell him no because of what he’d been through?

  Back in the bedroom, Jackson lay on the floor in front of the opening in the closet floor. The trapdoor had never been closed. He scooted forward and stuck his head and one arm down into the hole. Scanning back and forth with the flashlight, he quickly spotted the little toy. A koala bear. Now he understood what Benjie had been saying. Inching forward, he set the flashlight down and grabbed the toy.

  Under it was a small cylinder with a yellow cap on one end. He reached for the item and brought it out. A medical device?

  Jackson backed out of the opening and handed the bear to Benjie, who hugged the toy with a delighted grin. Jackson held up the device. “Is this yours?”

  Benjie nodded and his lips trembled. “My EpiPen.”

  Epinephrine, to prevent anaphylactic shock. What was the boy allergic to? He had so much to learn about this child and no one to consult.

  CHAPTER 50

  A week earlier

  Logan closed the textbook and went to the fridge for a beer. Political science was so boring. How was he supposed to remember all that stuff for a test when he didn’t understand it? He just wanted to play football—and make real money—but he had to get through college before he could become an NFL player. His skills brought in a shitload of money for the college, but all he got out of it was tuition and room and board. He couldn’t even take cash for autographs without getting into trouble. And Catalina needed money for the doctor and the baby. Being a student was such an inconvenience.

  He tried again to read the assigned pages but couldn’t concentrate. He wished his depression meds would make him more focused, like ADHD medicine did for his smart friend Nate. A little coke could help. He’d been keeping it mostly straight since the season started, and he deserved to party a little. Maybe Trey could hook him up. He’d stop by Trey’s apartment, then head over to Catalina’s. She always made him feel better.

  Trey’s girlfriend was at their
apartment, so Logan waited until he reached Catalina’s place to do a couple lines. He hoped the coke would bring back some of the juice in their relationship. When they’d first gotten together, Cat had been so hot—an amazing sexual partner. But the pregnancy had made her cautious and had taken some of the sizzle out of their romps.

  After he kissed her neck and rubbed her breasts the way she liked, Catalina pushed him away. “Sorry, babe, but I can’t do this right now. I’m too worried.”

  Oh fuck. He needed some release. “Worried about what? We got your rent money from the Pershing place.”

  “I’ve been having pain again. I told you I need to see a doctor.”

  Logan’s erection disappeared. But his need didn’t. “I’ve got one of those fake jobs coming up next month, and I’ll make a thousand for it. I’ll get the money to you then.” Alumni and wealthy football fans sometimes offered one-day, overpaid no-show jobs to help players make extra cash, but they didn’t happen often enough, and the team had nearly a hundred players. But as quarterback, he’d scored some of them over the years.

  “I can’t wait that long,” Cat whined. “We should do another zombie-house scam.”

  “We don’t want to push our luck.” Still, they needed the money. Logan fingered a sore spot on the back of his head. He owed another player nearly a thousand dollars, and the asshole had jumped him the other night and pounded him over it. Not many men were big enough to take him—except a linebacker.

  “Nobody reports the house deals, because the cops don’t care.” Catalina went to the kitchen and poured herself some chocolate milk.

  The woman they’d rented to popped into his head. Strawberry blonde, slim and pretty. She’d kept touching his hand when they’d signed the papers. He wondered what she was up to.

  “Do you want to watch a movie?”

  No, he wanted to get laid. “I’m too hyper. Want to go for a walk instead?”

  Cat shook her head, then grabbed his wrist. “Why aren’t you wearing your pink breast-cancer bracelet? I thought the team was supposed to wear them all week.”

  Logan looked at his wrist. “Oh shit. I think I left it at the rental house.” He hated the fucking pink wristbands and helmets, but the team wore them once a year as part of a fundraiser. It was good publicity for the team and the school.

  They were both quiet for a moment. Worried, Logan said, “I think I have to go get it. If that girl finds it and realizes she’s been scammed by a UO football player, she might go public.”

  “I don’t know. I think it’s riskier to go back,” Catalina argued. “She’s probably already figured out that we don’t really live there.” They’d picked up a couch and a TV off a street corner for free. And they’d moved a few of their own personal things in just long enough to make it look real and get the money.

  “I doubt that. It’s only been a couple of days. I’ll be back in a bit.” Logan grabbed his keys and hurried out. The coke had made him wired and restless and he needed to blow off some energy anyway.

  On the drive over, he took the long way, speeding down the back roads and loving the warm wind on his face as daylight faded. For a few minutes, he felt free, just a young man with no responsibilities, enjoying one of the last evenings of summer.

  The tenant’s car was in the driveway, and at first it irritated him. He’d hoped to just get in and out without her knowing he’d been there. He’d driven Cat’s little truck when he’d come before, worried that someone might recognize or remember his sports car. But when he saw Amanda sitting on the couch, wearing a halter top with her slim brown legs dangling, he remembered how attractive she was. And how she’d flirted with him, even though she’d believed he and his girlfriend would both be living there.

  “Hi, Logan.” Such a sweet smile.

  “Hey, Amanda.” A flash of guilt for scamming her. But the house was abandoned, so she might live there free for months, or even years. They might have done her a favor. He went to the dining area where they’d filled out the phony rental papers and looked around for his wristband. He didn’t see it and tried to remember where he might have taken it off.

  She came into the kitchen, her sun-kissed skin glowing on her pretty face. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

  He hesitated. “I don’t know. I think we broke up.” This girl would be the perfect casual fuck.

  Amanda opened the fridge, brushing against him as she did. “Let’s have a beer and get to know each other.”

  She was into him. “I’m down for that.”

  They moved to the couch.

  One beer turned into two, and they had a few good laughs. But he was too hyped and too horny to sit around talking. Either they were going to fuck or he would move on. He leaned in and kissed her, grabbing the back of her head. She pressed her tongue into his mouth, tasting like beer and watermelon and summer sex. His erection came back fast.

  After a minute of making out, he scooped her up and carried her into her bedroom.

  “Hey, not so fast.” Her tone was light and she gave a little laugh.

  The bareness of her room, with only a mattress on the floor, was a strange turn-on, making the whole scenario seedy and sexy. Logan kicked the door shut and dropped down to the mattress, pulling down his shorts in a quick movement.

  “Hey, stop. I’m not—”

  He pressed his mouth against hers to silence her. She wanted it, he could tell.

  Amanda struggled under him, but it was pointless. He was twice her size and the coke made him more powerful.

  “Don’t fight it. Let it happen.” He kept his mouth against hers and pinned her wrists above her head with one of his oversize hands.

  After he penetrated her, the girl started to get loud, so he pressed his other hand over her mouth. It wasn’t right to tease him like that, then change her mind. Not today. He’d taken enough shit from his coach, from Danica, and from Catalina. At the moment, he hated them all.

  After a while, the girl stopped fighting and grew quiet. As much of a horndog as he was, he didn’t climax easily, and his frustration grew. The door squeaked behind him. What? He looked back over his shoulder and saw a little boy. Oh shit. “Get out!”

  The boy came at him, his little fist gripped around something yellow and cylindrical. Logan’s penis went limp and he cursed. Something hard and pointed shoved into his shoulder. He rolled off the girl and grabbed for his shorts.

  His heart began to race and he felt light-headed. “What the fuck?” He struggled to his feet and shouted at the boy. But the kid scampered away. Nausea filled his belly and he nearly fainted. Logan glanced over at Amanda, who wasn’t moving. Had he hurt her?

  Holy shit, he was sick. He had to go home. Maybe he would call the team doctor. Logan stumbled out of the room, pulling in deep breaths. Where were his keys? He felt for his pockets. Yes. Keys, phone, and wallet. Heart racing like overworked pistons, he left the house and staggered to his car. Thank god it was dark and no one could see him. The team couldn’t afford any more scandals.

  The drive home was a nightmare. Whatever was in his system was worse than being drunk. And his chest hurt. But he finally made it. Alone in his apartment, he vomited, then the effects started to subside a little. But anxiety set in. What if he had done something bad to Amanda and people found out? He could lose everything.

  Logan went to the bathroom and took one of his mood stabilizers. He wanted to lie down, but knew he should walk it off instead. Pacing the apartment seemed to help. After a while, the beers ran through him and he needed to pee. Heart still pounding, he stood in front of the toilet and urinated. A moment later, a searing pain ripped into his chest, and he couldn’t think straight. What the fuck was happening now? He tried to walk and felt blood gush from his nose. Logan lay down on the floor and prayed. His team needed him.

  The pain worsened and his brain shut down.

  CHAPTER 51

&nbs
p; Tuesday, September 10, 11:05 a.m.

  Evans took a seat in the conference room, grateful to be moving around a little better now. Not being able to work out was making her hyper and irritated. She’d finally done water aerobics at the YMCA that morning just to burn off some energy. The exercise had hurt but was worth it.

  Schak and Quince were already in the room, and Lammers came in behind her.

  “Where the hell is Jackson? I want to make this fast.” The sergeant plopped into a chair, making it creak. “I have to testify in the damn evidence clusterfuck this afternoon. Those lazy, corrupt fuckers have tarnished everyone in this department, and I hope they end up in jail.”

  They all felt the same, but no one responded because they were tired of hashing it out.

  Jackson came in—without his little sidekick.

  “Where’s Benjie?” Schak asked.

  “With Kera. They’re bonding over health food and trampolines at Bounce.” Jackson sat down, glanced over at her, then pulled out his casebook.

  “How’s Danette?” Evans asked, wanting to know so much more.

  “She died Sunday, and Sandoval, the driver, is being charged with manslaughter. It was a rough weekend for the whole family. ”

  So Jackson and Kera and the two little boys were one big family now. The news was crushing, yet strangely liberating. She had no future with Jackson—which meant she had to request a transfer so she could finally move on. Once she made the SWAT unit, she could start training as a crisis negotiator. Mentally ill people with guns made it a busy, high-profile job.

  “Let’s get started,” Lammers said. “I have new cases to assign.” She opened her file book. “But first, let’s wrap up Caiden and Grayson. Evans, you worked both cases; tell me what I don’t know yet.”

  Evans looked at the notes she’d prepared for the meeting. “Grayson’s DNA matches the hair fiber we found on Andra Caiden’s body, as well as the sperm inside her, so he’s the one who raped and strangled her. But he’s dead so there’s no one to question or prosecute. And his toxicology indicates he snorted cocaine before he showed up at the rental.” Evans paused, still stunned by what a scumbag her victim turned out to be. “The same house where he and his girlfriend had scammed Andra out of four hundred dollars. Grayson then drove back to his apartment and had a heart attack. The cocaine he took was potent, but it wasn’t laced or poisoned, so maybe the heart attack was karmic justice.”