by Rhys Ford
Scrubbing at my lashes with my hand, I forced myself to relax. I missed Rick. My heart missed him, but the gut-wrenching ache in my body was gone. I’d built the building to please a dead man, painting the walls in Rick’s favorite colors as if he were going to come through the door and gasp in delight at what he saw.
“I’m sorry, baby.” Murmuring up to the sky, I hoped he could hear me, not knowing where God put murdered gay men. “I wanted this life for you—for us—and we never got it. I wished you were here. I did. I still do, but you’re not and Jae is. I just don’t want to hate myself for….”
I stopped before I admitted how I felt about Jae. Once I dug up Hyun-Shik’s murderer, he’d be gone, leaving the relative safety of my house. There was never any talk about love or forever between us. Sure, there were arguments and laughter. He was as stubborn and willful as he was beautiful, but never once had he told me he loved me.
“But then, neither have you,” I reminded myself, putting the car into gear. “Let’s see what Vicky’s up to this morning.”
I DIDN’T tell Jae I was going to see Victoria Kim. I didn’t think he’d call and warn her, but in case he spoke to one of the Kims, I didn’t want anyone to let her know I was coming. Catching someone unaware was often the best way to get them to talk, and with both her husband and Park dead, I wanted to see if I could prod her into spilling some of her secrets. There was more than a good chance that she was the blonde at Dorthi Ki Seu that night and might have had a hand in offing Hyun-Shik. I didn’t know if finding out her husband was gay would be enough to want him dead, but given her display of unremorseful disgust when I’d first met her, anything was possible.
Of course that was before I’d discovered Papa Kim, who hired me, also put Park up to seducing Victoria. The light on the on-ramp went green, and two more cars merged into the morning traffic. I glanced at the clock and did some mental calisthenics. Mike would be settling in behind his desk and sipping his first cup of coffee, probably plotting for some way to complicate my day. I thought I would beat him to it and dialed his direct line.
“McGinnis,” he barked at the speakerphone, sounding so much like our father I nearly hung up.
“Nice.” I laughed. “Like you’re the only one.”
“What the hell do you want?” He slurped into the phone, rattling my eardrum. “It’s before noon. I’m surprised you’re out of bed.”
“I’ve got work to do. The Kim case, remember. I was wondering if you could hook me up to meet Papa Kim.”
“He’s in Seoul right now,” Mike shot back. “And I thought I told you to drop the case?”
“I’m doing it on my own time.” I merged onto the freeway and set myself into the stop-and-go motion of midmorning Los Angeles. “For Jae.”
“Cole, I know you feel like—”
“Don’t tell me what I feel, Mike,” I cut him off. “If the cops won’t play connect the dots with three murders, then who the hell is going to?”
“The case’s been assigned to Detective O’Byrne. She took it away from Branson. I’m pretty sure she’s going to connect any dots that look like they need connecting.”
“O’Byrne’s scary,” I said. “She could definitely bust Branson’s balls. I don’t know if I should be happy or terrified.”
“Be terrified because she still likes you for Park’s murder. Get off the case, Cole.”
“Sorry, no can do. I promised Jae.”
“You’ve never been good with promises. Something shiny always comes along and distracts you.”
“This time’s different, Mike. Really.” I couldn’t explain the grip Jae had on my guts and heart. “I think I’m falling for him.”
“Wait for the medication to wear off. I’m sure it’ll go away once you’re sober.”
“Hah,” I mock laughed. “Did I give you this kind of crap about Mad Dog?”
“You’ve only known him for, what? A couple of weeks, Cole? That’s lust talking. Not love.”
“Maybe lust is the only thing I’ve got going for me right now,” I replied. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got some people to see this morning. I’ll let you know if I find something out.”
I cut Mike off before he could respond. Traffic was getting heavy, and so was my head. The sense of dread in my belly was increasing, the closer I got to the Kim house. Once the case was solved, Jae would be out on his own again.
“Gotta give Jae time, Cole,” I growled to myself. “If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”
The neighborhood was eerily quiet when I pulled up. Having grown up in the rough-and-tumble of military housing, the silence gave the Spanish-style houses and manicured lawns a fake feeling, like I’d stumbled upon a movie set waiting for the cast and crew to arrive. A bit of movement broke the stillness when a house sparrow flew past, but the street quickly settled back into its dead calm.
I started to get out of the rental, and my legs groaned with the effort. My skin shifted around the bruises, rubbing sore when I took a step, and my back complained, creaking and twisting as I turned to shut the car door. Suddenly, it seemed like a good idea to have spent the day in bed, preferably doped up on something that would have turned my aching muscles into pudding.
“Having rock-star sex with Jae probably didn’t help things,” I reminded myself as cramping twinges moved up my thighs. Remembering the heat of his body on mine, I grinned. “But fuck if it wasn’t fun.”
The street was empty of people, but several cars sat along the curb and in driveways. An Escalade took up most of the space in front of the house, and my rental looked puny beside its bulk. The Kim lawn was clear of toys, but a pair of tiny mud-caked sneakers by the front door warned visitors of a child living there.
In this neighborhood, I’d expect triple dead bolts and a security system armed with tasers. What I found was the door to be cracked open an inch. The mud on the kid’s shoes was fresh, dark, crumbling, and smelling of fertilizer, a distinct aroma that hit my nose as I approached the front door. Pushing the door further open with my foot, I pressed against the frame and listened for any movement inside the house. When I heard nothing but more silence, I cautiously peered around the corner, and my heart stopped cold.
The snot-voiced woman who’d let me in the first time lay sprawled on the tiled foyer floor, her eyes open and blankly staring at the now-open front door. A pair of rough holes shattered her face, and the blood from her wounds ran thick in the floor’s grout lines, breaking the pool into grids.
“Shit.” I pulled the Glock out and listened for any sign of life from inside the house, but I heard nothing but sprinklers and a few birds. Fumbling for my cell phone, I dialed 911.
“You've reached the 911 Emergency Hotline, all circuits are busy right now….” A woman’s voice droned in my ear.
“Oh fuck me,” I swore, disconnecting the call. Trying again got me the recording again, and after the third try, I dialed the next best thing to 911, cutting Mike off before he started speaking. “Just shut up and listen to me. I’m at Victoria Kim’s house. The front door is wide open, and the nanny… or I think it’s the nanny… is lying in the entrance. She looks dead. Emergency put me on hold, so do me a favor and call up O’Byrne and see if you can’t get someone down here. Now.”
“Don’t go in that house, Cole. Wait for the cops.” Mike shouted at me through the speaker. “I’m serious. Do not go into that fucking—”
“I’ve got to see if there’s anyone else alive in there. There’s a kid in here.” I was in no mood to argue. “Make the call and tell them I’ve gone in so no one shoots me by accident.”
“Damn it,” I heard Mike say before I ended the call. I hoped he had better luck with 911 than me, and I headed in.
Chapter 18
HOLDING the Glock down, I stepped into the house, keeping my head down, and skirted around the woman’s body. I didn’t need to check her for a pulse. Even from the door I could see she was dead. There wasn’t anything I could do for her.
The smell of huma
n blood was overwhelming. She’d been cleaning when she was shot, and a bottle of lemon-scented cleaner curdled the blood near her right hand. Expended shells were scattered around her like stars in the sky. The kill was an ugly one, brutal and messy. The walls were punctured with holes, signs of an inexperienced shooter. How much experience didn’t really matter to the woman lying on the floor. A bullet to the head killed whether or not it was an aimed shot.
From my position in the foyer, I peered into the parlor. There was blood on the walls, long smears ruining the room’s blush interior. Vivid and glistening on the pink paint, the smears looked like they were recent. Aiming at the floor, I kept my back against the wall and rounded the foyer, stepping sideways into the room.
The room looked like a battlefield. One chair was upended, and the coffee table was smashed. The carpet was soaked where a vase had fallen and broken. A scatter of yellow roses lay around its remains, half of them stomped on. A portrait of Hyun-shik and Victoria at their wedding lay face up, its frame cracked and pulled apart. A large shard of glass was nearby, its tip coated with drying blood. Something sparkling on the cream carpet turned out to be broken-off fingernails painted a glittering pink.
A moaning caught me before I left the room, so I stepped in, trying not to disturb anything. The cops were going to have my ass for just stepping into the house. I was going to make things worse by taking a tour, but I was already in.
I spotted two bare feet in the corner of the room and carefully started forward. Surprise choked me, and I stared at Victoria lying still on the carpet behind the loveseat. Her blonde hair was in a tangled mess around her shoulders, and a crescent bruise was forming on her cheek. I stepped forward, avoiding a broken teacup, and bent down to see if she was alive.
She was, but barely. The carpet under her soaked up as much of her blood as it could, and it squished under my weight, wetting the sides of my shoes.
Victoria lay on her stomach, and her eyes were unfocused, blinking slowly as I came into the room. Her legs were motionless, and the black, flowing skirt she wore was torn and pushed up to expose most of her thighs. Victoria’s once-cream shirt was speckled with bullet holes, and bloody circles had expanded out from the wounds until they touched. Her gaze fixed on me for a long blink, and she murmured something, a broken tumble of words, clawing at the carpet with her fingers.
“Don’t move,” I said, coming to her. Laying the Glock on the carpet, I kept it in arm’s reach in case I needed it. Sliding my hand on her neck, I tried finding a pulse, but it was too weak to feel, and she gurgled, her throat spasms jerking the skin under my palm.
It seemed wrong to me that the sprinklers outside were louder than the woman struggling to breathe under my hand. Victoria fought to draw her breath, and I shushed her, telling her to hold on. The phone in my pocket buzzed, and I flicked it open after seeing Mike’s number scrawl on the screen.
“Mike, I need an ambulance here. Victoria Kim’s been shot.” I eased her shoulders up with one arm, trying to help her keep her lungs free of blood. Her breathing grew easier but was still ragged.
“I called 911. They’ll be there soon,” Mike said in my ear. “O’Byrne should be right behind them. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thanks.” I wasn’t going to tell him not to come. O’Byrne would lay this on me if I wasn’t careful, and for all I knew, the shooter was still in the house. I hung up and put the phone down, leaning over Victoria. “Hey, you’ve got to hang on for a bit. The ambulance is going to be here soon. They’ll fix you up.”
I knew it was a lie. There was nothing a medical team would be able to do. My hand brushed on an exit wound on her chest. It gaped, and her right breast was gone, leaving nothing behind but a flat, wet mess. There were at least four more holes on her back, and if the others were like the one I was trying to put pressure on, her insides were an organ smoothie.
I didn’t know how she was still alive, much less conscious, but she was going to tell me something… even if it killed her to do it.
“Will….” She grabbed at my leg, pulling at my jeans. Too guttered to get a proper voice, Victoria stuttered around the word.
“Will I what?” I was torn between telling her to save her energy and letting her speak. Victoria’s breathing hitched, and her chest shuddered in my hands. “Victoria, stop talking. It’s not good….”
“Upstairs.” Her face grew rigid as she strained to look up. The herculean effort to lift her chin strained Victoria’s chest muscles, and the wound I held pressure on gushed blood around my fingers. “Will….”
Shit, her son was Will. Hyun-Shik’s son. Will, soon to be the only one left alive in his family, was upstairs.
“Don’t move, okay?” Victoria was getting anxious, her limbs shifting and flopping. Gasping, she tried turning over, and I held her in place. “Hold on, I’m going to get a pillow to hold you up, and then I’ll go upstairs. Okay? Don’t talk. Really, don’t.”
Victoria’s nod was small, but her body relaxed in my arms. Reaching over the loveseat, I grabbed a small pillow from the couch and placed it carefully under Victoria’s sternum. I wiped my bloody hands on my jeans and picked up my gun. I wasn’t sure if she would still be alive by the time I came back downstairs, but right now, all that mattered to her was finding her son.
With Victoria probably dying in the parlor, that left me with no one else to blame for the murders.
“Gun down, walk softly,” I murmured to myself. “Don’t know who’s going to be up there.”
I stepped around the dead woman in the foyer, careful not to track through the blood. I’d already compromised the scene by going to Victoria, but only an asshole would have left her to die there, even if I did think she’d had a hand in killing her husband.
“Who the hell else is there left?” I paused at the foot of the stairs.
The staircase was a stream of black-speckled white marble, trimmed in an elaborate black, wrought-iron banister. A carpet runner cut the curve in half, a golden ribbon stretching across the center of each step. Small drops of blood marred the pile. They were evenly spaced, and tiny. Victoria probably had gotten a hit in with something, but the shooter wasn’t worried or panicked.
Worst of all, he’d known Will was upstairs and had headed straight for the kid. He’d either come to take the kid or kill him. Either choice would be disastrous for the Kim family.
The house was big, and the upper level split off into two directions at the top of the marble staircase. I took a chance that the smaller jog in the hallway would lead to the master suite. Lady Luck was either with me or against me because the bullet aimed for my head missed me but hit the mirror hanging on the wall behind me. I flinched and ducked as the glass exploded, cutting through my T-shirt and digging into my already torn skin.
Rolling, I tried to find cover, but there was nothing to hide behind. The hallway was clear of anything useful except for a portable kiddie gate the shooter must have moved from the top of the stairs. Grabbing the plastic gate, I flung it out in front of me, hoping to at least drive the shooter back into the room so I could get to the corner and to some cover. The gate flung wide and hit an open door, rattling as it split in two, falling onto the floor.
Grace Kim emerged from the end of the hallway, holding a crying Will in one arm. She shakily held a Browning in her hand, the muzzle pointing at me in a vague, uncertain tremble. Her face was white and set into a firm grimace. She was in shock, but determined, and her eyes were wild as she stared me down.
“Does Daddy know you’ve got his gun?” I stood slowly, keeping the Glock to the side. I took a step forward, and the muzzle of her gun steadied, aiming for my chest.
“Don’t m-m-move,” Grace stuttered, and the gun trembled again. I held my hands up, letting the Glock dangle off my index finger. “And this isn’t Daddy’s gun. It’s mine. I bought… it.”
“Okay, good.” I kept my voice steady. There wasn’t any way to know how much ammo she had left, if any, and the kid was st
arting to wail. Grace shushed the toddler, bouncing him against her leg. She could have reloaded after she did Victoria and the other woman. I had absolutely no way of knowing.
“Shhh, it’s okay. We’ll get you to Grandma’s. She’ll take care of you, baby boy,” Grace murmured and kissed the side of Will’s head. For a moment her face was lost against the boy’s sweat-dampened hair, but she pulled back too quickly for me to make a grab at her. The gun was still on me as she stalked forward. “I don’t want to shoot you. I don’t. I know you were just doing your job. I know that.”
“That woman lying by the front door was just doing her job, and you killed her,” I pointed out, then winced. My common sense had once again deserted me.
“She tried to stop me.” Her shriek echoed in the open space above the foyer. “I had to kill her. I didn’t have a choice. No one ever gave me a choice.”
“Park? Did he give you a choice?”
“He was going to tell Daddy I’d killed Hyun-Shik. I couldn’t have that. I wasn’t done yet. We weren’t done yet.” She paced back a step, trying to comfort her nephew and hold a bead on me. I took a step toward her when her back was turned, edging closer. “If he’d kept his mouth shut just a few more days, it would have been over.”
“And Jae? Your cousin?” I pressed in. The gun waved erratically, falling off me more than staying on. I edged another step, hoping she’d be rattled enough to drop either the gun or the kid. Either way, I’d make a grab for her.
“Jae-Min doesn’t matter. He’s… disgusting. A pervert. Look what he did to Hyun-Shik! My brother would have been normal if it weren’t for him coming on to him, making Hyun-Shik want him.” Grace hiccupped, and she quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her gun hand. “I told Brian he should have made sure Jae-Min was dead when he killed that whore, but he didn’t. See? I couldn’t trust him! He never did what he was supposed to do!”