He shook his head then winced again. “No, I didn’t recognize ‘em, but they had on masks.”
Mr. Parson weaved slightly, and Rory shot a look toward Kyle. “Okay, Mr. Parson, they’re going to take you to the hospital. We’ll need you to come to the station and make a statement and answer more questions. If you’re able tomorrow, we’ll make that arrangement.” Offering a chin lift toward Rory, he walked over to where Alex was interviewing the other Kilton delivery employee.
“Mr. Fisher, this is my partner, Detective Kyle McBride. This is Charlie Fisher.”
“I know you were just talking to Detective Freeman, but Mr. Fisher, I’d like you to tell me what happened since I’ve just been speaking to Mr. Parson.”
Charlie’s gaze shot to the side, and he asked, “Are they taking Joe to the hospital?”
“Yes. He’ll get checked out. Now take us through your day.”
Charlie’s version began much like his partner’s. It was their afternoon run. An accident kept them from making it to the first pharmacy so, after they called and cleared it with the pharmacy and Kilton, they went to the second one on their schedule. After that delivery, they drove to their current location. They pulled in behind the other delivery truck, assuming the pharmacy was accepting merchandise from another vendor.
“Joe told me to get out and ring the bell on the pharmacy’s back door. By the time I walked around to the front, two men got out of the truck, both had guns and pointed right at me. Don’t mind telling you, scared the piss outta me.”
“Did Joe stay in the van?”
“Yeah, he stayed there and one of the men headed toward him. I was focused on the man closest to me. He told me to lean back against the van and by that time Joe was out and right next to me. One of them kept his gun on us and the other one went around and started emptying all the boxes that we had in our van.”
“Did Joe try to be a hero? Is that why he got hit?”
Charlie’s face scrunched in thought, and he shook his head. “No, it didn’t happen then. After the other man got the boxes out of our van and put them in his truck, the one with us told us to get on our knees and face the other direction. I don’t mind telling you, Detective, I figured I was going to get a bullet through the brain. They had masks on so I couldn’t have told you what they look like, but I couldn’t think of any other reason why they want us to get on our knees. Joe said something to one of them. ‘Not now’, or something like that. The man that had a gun on us grabbed him by the arm and hauled him around to the other side. I could hear voices but don’t know what they were saying, and then I heard what must’ve been Joe getting hit and he cried out.”
“But you didn’t see it? Joe getting hit?”
“No. No, but I wasn’t moving. Not an inch. Not until both men jumped into their truck and started driving away. When I was sure I wasn’t gonna get shot, I raced around to the other side. Joe was on the ground with blood gushing out of his head.”
“Who knows your delivery routes? Are they standard?”
“Standard?” Charlie asked, lifting a shaky hand and rubbing it over his forehead.
“The same all the time.”
“Oh, uh… not like every day. Kilton delivers to pharmacies all over the city, county, and those are just the local deliveries. Hell, they deliver all over the country. Me and Joe are part of the local delivery team… just here in downtown Hope City.”
“So, who knows about your routes?” Alex reiterated.
“Well, the people who make up the routes would know. We go to different places every day, but we tend to have a team that goes to some of the same pharmacies. Well, that brings to mind… the people at the pharmacies know we’re coming.”
“So, other than the employees at Kilton Pharmaceuticals that need to know about the delivery routes and the pharmacies you deliver to, no one else knows which road you take, what times you're delivering, or even what you’re carrying, right?”
Nodding, Charlie agreed. “That’s right, Detective. We’re assigned different routes on different days. And, like today, we were off our schedule due to the accident.”
A detective from the Robbery Division arrived, approaching Kyle, Alex, and Charlie. While Alex continued to get information from Charlie, Kyle stepped to the side.
“Todd, good to see you. You taking the van in?”
“Yeah. Sorry, I’m late to the party. Fuckin’ accident happened right in front of us as we were on the way over. My partner had to stay, so I got over here as fast as I could.” Jerking his head to the side, he said, “You can catch me up. I understand you’ve got a special interest in this.”
“We’d like to follow closely on this one. The delivery van is from Kilton Pharmaceuticals and it was cleaned out. Alex and I are working on the Kilton angle, but I don’t want to step on your toes. We’re looking at fentanyl that’s getting out and ending up in heroin on the streets.”
“You thinkin’ an inside job?”
“Let’s just say I’m not dismissing it.”
Nodding, Todd sighed. “Jesus, all we need is more of this shit gettin’ out and hittin’ the streets. And don’t worry about stepping on toes… we’re buried in cases, so if you want this one, I can talk to my captain. What have you got so far?”
“The driver was carried to the hospital. Not bad. Few stitches in his forehead and maybe a concussion. His name’s Joseph Parson, goes by Joe. I talked to him first. Told him he’d need to come in and make a statement.” Inclining his head in the other direction, he added “Charlie was just giving his rendition, but I haven’t heard enough to know if it was completely aligned with Joe’s.”
“I’ll take Charlie in now and get his statement. As soon as I can get Joe in, I’ll give you a call. You want to sit in on it?”
“Absolutely. If there’s even a chance that this was an inside job, I want to see if we can get one of these men to give us an in to Kilton.”
Two hours later, initial reports finished and Charlie’s questioning and statement given, Kyle and Alex walked into the Celtic Cock. If it wasn’t for the desire to see if Kimberly was at the Cock, he would have just gone straight home. The pub was packed, typical for a Friday night. He grabbed a beer from Maeve, then managed to maneuver through the crowd enough to determine that she wasn’t there.
By the time he finished his beer, he clapped Alex on the shoulder and said, “I’m heading home. If I find out when Joe’s coming in, I’ll give you a call.” With goodbyes ringing out from his other friends, he left the pub. Tired. Pissed off. And alone.
8
“Good morning!”
Kimberly peeked out the window in her back door and could see her neighbor waving from over the top of the fence. His mother had lived in the two-story, two-bedroom townhouse where Kimberly now lived, never letting Bob, who lived next door, make any changes. When she’d died four years earlier, Bob looked for a renter that would allow him to refurbish the townhouse while living there for reduced rent.
Now, the workmen came during the day when Kimberly was at work and were usually gone by the time she came home. At worst, she had to go without a kitchen for a week. With two bathrooms upstairs, she was never without a shower.
Grinning, she threw open the door and called out, “Good morning, Bob!”
“I just realized I’m outta coffee and wondered if you had any.”
“I’m a pod-coffee girl. Come on over!”
Leaving the door unlocked, she walked through her laundry room and into the kitchen. By the time Bob slipped through the gate of the fence dividing their small back patios and stepped into her house, she already had an extra mug pulled from the cabinet and was pouring the coffee.
“You’re a lifesaver,” he gushed. “I ran to the market yesterday and didn’t get coffee because I thought I had some.”
“I made muffins this morning so, if you’d like one, have a seat.”
“Damn, Kimberly. I might have to forget my coffee more often.”
After handing him a muffin, she
sat in the seat across from him and they ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. Finishing, he thanked her, then carried his plate and mug over to the kitchen sink, rinsing them out.
“Oh, I almost forgot. You had a couple of pieces of mail that came through my letterbox.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two envelopes, handing them to her.
“Hmm, one’s a piece of junk, and the other is from Kilton, although it looks like junk, too. I swear I don’t know why they have your address down for me. I’ve called HR twice about that.”
Shrugging, Bob said, “It’s not like we get a lot of mail anymore. And, certainly, the couple of pieces that come through are no problem for me to bring to you.”
“Well, thanks anyway.” She walked him to the back door, waving as he headed over to his house. Rinsing the rest of her breakfast dishes, she sighed thinking about the previous evening. She’d entered the Celtic Cock with nervous anticipation, both desperately hoping that Kyle would show up and fearful that he would but ignore her, giving evidence to the certainty of a one-and-done. But he never came in, and she finally left when her other friends went home.
She had spent time the previous week trying to convince herself there was nothing between her and Kyle other than an immediate, combustible lust. And yet, the desire to see him again was so strong. Stop, just stop! Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs of unrequited… whatever they had, she decided to spend her day giving her townhouse a thorough scrubbing before going out. Nothing like a little hard work to keep my mind off Mr. Gorgeous.
Kimberly walked along the sidewalk between the old brick buildings, the path so familiar she could have walked it with her eyes closed. The grass was neatly trimmed, and early-spring flowers were popping up in beds around the trees. Deep-green ivy climbed the brick on the wall surrounding the area.
Coming to the massive wooden door, she pushed it open and stepped inside the cool, dark hallway. The tile, old and worn, had seen the footsteps of many children over the years. She walked down the hall and knocked on the doorframe that led into a small office. The woman sitting at the desk looked up, recognition immediately settling on her face along with a wide smile that deepened the multitude of creases. She stood, her arms outstretched. The white dress that fell to just below her knees was covered in a black cape. Her hair, once brown, had moved beyond gray and was now white, still covered with a black veil.
Moving with haste that belied her age, the nun circled her desk. “Kimberly, my child. How lovely to see you!”
“Sister Honoria,” she greeted, reveling in the feel of her mentor’s arms around her, just as tight and comforting as they had been when she first came to the orphanage school twenty years ago. Sacred Heart was now a private girl’s school in Hope City, but when it had been established in the 1800s, it was originally an orphanage. Slowly through the years, other orphanages were started, but Sacred Heart continued to serve a small population.
For Kimberly, it had been her home from the time her parents had been killed in a car accident when she was seven years old. Against all stereotypes of hard discipline, lean living, and scary nuns, Kimberly found the Sisters at Sacred Heart to be warm, caring, and nurturing. It wasn’t the same as her parents, but she was still surrounded by love.
“I was just going to go for a little walk,” Sister Honoria said. “I would enjoy your company.”
She smiled, taking the older nun’s arm. “I’d love to go with you.” They walked slowly down the hall, and Kimberly peeked inside a few classrooms, remembering years gone by.
“There are very few of us still left, I’m afraid,” Sister Honoria said. “There are only two teachers that are nuns and two of us that are administrators. The orphanage dormitories are now used for boarding students since the Diocese and the Hope City Department of Social Services came together to provide a different location for the orphanage.”
“I remember this place fondly,” she admitted. “I sometimes miss the calm atmosphere.”
“Most of our children could not wait to graduate and go off into the world.”
Chuckling, she nodded. “And probably, like me, most found that the world was often a noisy, crowded, unpredictable place.” Seeing Sister Honoria’s sharp gaze land on her, she hurried to add, “I’m happy, but that doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes long for simpler times.”
Sister Honoria patted her arm. “The world sometimes seems to be less contemplative, doesn’t it? Although, that just means we have to find and take the time to be alone with our thoughts and God.”
They had left the school building, circling around the brick sidewalks that meandered between the trees. The large Sacred Hearts Chapel rose before them, anchoring one corner of the campus, and they sat on a bench, both staring up at the grey stone and stained-glass windows.
“What are your favorite memories of this place?” Sister Honoria asked.
Kimberly thought for a moment, her mind filtering through the past. “I remember Sister Grace threatening us with extra laps at PE if we didn’t pay attention in class. We knew she was only kidding, and we’d laugh, but still, we’d get quiet. I remember singing in the choir. Practice was fine in the school building, but then, when we’d sing in the church, it was awesome to hear the acoustics.”
“Oh, yes, lovely memories.”
“I remember when Father James would take some of us with him when he delivered food and gifts to some of the people with need. I used to help him even when I was in college but haven’t done that for a couple of years and miss it.” She sighed. “I started my job, moved into a townhouse, and I suppose it was easier to walk away from those in need than it should have been.”
“There is so much need in the world.” Sister Honoria’s gaze twinkled as she said, “Father James still goes there. He has a group that delivers some items to the homeless that are unable to get into shelters. If you ever want to help, just let us know.”
“I do,” she said, nodding with enthusiasm. “I feel as though I’ve lived very selfishly for a while. Is Father James around? I’d like to find out when his next delivery day will be.”
Sister Honoria chuckled and pointed to a side door of the church. “You’re in luck. He’s coming out now.”
She waved to him and smiled as he walked closer, recognizing her as he neared. He had come to Sacred Heart as a young priest when she was a child. Enthusiastic and fun at heart, the children had loved him. Now, the mantle of middle age had settled about his shoulders, but his smile was just as wide and his eyes twinkled just as bright.
“Kimberly, how lovely to see you.”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Sister Honoria added. “Kimberly came for a visit and has decided she would like to help you with your next blanket and food donation.”
Clapping his hands, he exclaimed, “You’re just in time! I’ve got a group going in a couple of days. We visit the Cardboard Cottages, underneath the 31st Bridge. There is so much need and suffering. If you’d like to come, you can help us hand out what we’ve gathered.”
“I’d love that.” After making the arrangements, she waved goodbye as he continued down the path and she and Sister Honoria began the walk back toward the school. Seeing her mentor safely ensconced back into her office, Kimberly wandered the halls alone for a few minutes, allowing her memories to wash over her.
Each year was a little different, new children coming and old friends leaving. While the orphanage and school had been a happy place forming an ever-changing family, the memories stirred a wistful longing inside. As she walked back toward her car, she reached inside her bag and pulled out her wallet. Tucked inside was one of the pictures she kept close to her always. Her parents, smiling at the camera with her held in their laps.
Giving her head a little shake to dislodge the cobwebs of the past, she slid the picture back inside her bag, looked over her shoulder, and smiled at the familiar buildings that made up part of her past, then turned and jogged to her car.
Kyle drove to one of th
e large neighborhoods in the northern part of town. He wasn’t surprised to see the number of cars parked in the driveways and on the street. As usual, when there was a King or a McBride gathering, most everyone showed up. He wondered if they’d be in the backyard already, but it appeared quiet.
Walking into his parents’ house, he could hear voices coming from the kitchen. As was so often the case, his mom was bustling around, pulling plastic wrap off platters, while his dad was manning the grill outside with Sean and Carter. Tara, Harper, and Caitlyn were helping his mom in the kitchen. Erin and Rory were coming in from the garage, each carrying an ice chest filled with beer bottles.
Tara’s daughter, Colleen, was standing at the sliding glass door, looking toward the King’s backyard. Bouncing on her toes, she waved as he walked into the room and said, “I see them! They just got there!”
The Kings were gathering in the backyard, getting ready to welcome their newest members. Brody had gotten back together with his old girlfriend, Amber, and discovered they had a son. This was going to be the welcoming party for Brody to introduce Gage to his family. He knew Brody was also nervous about his family being around Amber again and promised his best friend that the McBrides would be there to make sure things went smoothly.
Throwing out greetings to his family, he stepped over to the door and placed his hands on Colleen’s shoulders, feeling the excitement vibrating through her small body. She twisted around and looked up at him. “Uncle Kyle? Do you think he’ll play with me?”
He knew Gage was several years older and figured, like most boys, the idea of hanging with a little girl would not be his idea of fun. Uncertain what to say, he was rescued when Tara called out, “Sweetie, you know we talked about this. Gage will be overwhelmed meeting everybody, and he’s older than you. I don’t know that he’ll want to play, but I’m sure he’ll be nice.”
Bending, he whispered, “Just think, Colleen. You’ll always be our little princess.” Rewarded with a grin, he looked out the door and watched as Brody, Amber, and Gage chatted with Hannah and Chauncey King. They were soon joined by Blay and Bekki, Brody’s siblings.
Kyle (Hope City Book 4) Page 7