by Ty Patterson
Difiore and Quindica were on the sidewalk on Wilcox Avenue to greet him. The FBI agent hugged him tight and even Difiore had dropped her façade to grin and bump a fist with him. Dade was present too, in a discreetly parked SUV. ‘I had to take you in,’ she told him, looking deeply into his eyes. ‘You understand?’
‘Yeah,’ he reassured her. ‘We’re good.’
* * *
‘I shouldn’t have left you,’ he told the wounded cop.
Lasko reached out and squeezed his arm. ‘City’s safer now. Covarra and Janikyan are gone.’
‘What about Cesar?’
‘Quindica pulled strings. My deal with him will be honored.’
‘Federal witness protection program,’ the FBI agent replied when Cutter looked at her quizzically. ‘There’s still a threat to him, even though Street Front’s leadership is gone.’
‘Matteo and Cruz?’
‘They’re singing,’ the chief filled him in. ‘Confessing everything, hoping they get a lighter sentence.’
‘You agreed to that?’
‘No. They aren’t getting any leniency.’ Her jaw hardened. ‘I knew we had some bad cops, but didn’t think it would be them.’
‘They’ve given us a list of names,’ Quindica said when Dade lapsed into silence. ‘Everyone in their gang. They were so good that no Internal Affairs investigation, none of the chief’s task forces, identified them.’
‘Vance and Diego fooled me, too,’ Lasko added bitterly. ‘They found out I was close to the chief and hoped Covarra would kill me that night, on Jesse Street. They accused me of being in with Covarra.’
‘They figured you were colluding with Street Front, too,’ Dade said tightly when Cutter looked bemused. ‘Vance’s theory was that’s why you and Lasko had turned dirty.’
Will she take a political hit? Matteo was a star cop. Will the mayor sack her?
Nothing will happen to her, Quindica guessed his thoughts and lipped at him.
‘Cutter.’ Dade sensed they were talking about her and turned to them. ‘You’ll be leaving soon? Leaving LA?’
‘You want me gone?’ he chuckled.
‘Who wouldn’t?’ Difiore retorted. ‘The amount of destruction you have caused—’
‘Who, me?’ he pointed at himself with an innocent look.
‘Yeah, you. A bike shooting—’
‘That wasn’t me.’
‘That house on Alice Street? You razed it to the ground.’
‘I’m an upstanding citizen,’ he said indignantly. ‘I don’t go about shooting people or destroying property.’
‘Save it,’ Difiore sneered. ‘What’s keeping you here?’
‘Vienna’s house.’
‘Which is yours, now.’
‘Yeah, but I’m giving it away to the Lintock Foundation. Judith will put it to good use.’
‘Janikyan’s got a team of hackers in East Hollywood,’ Dade informed him. ‘The bangers who got out before you brought the house down spilled everything. We made several arrests in the last forty-eight hours. Those criminals broke into the traffic camera system and tracked your and Brae’s escape from that banger’s house. They traced her to Judith’s house. Zohrab snatched her from there, when she came out to go shopping.’
‘She needs to be protected as well.’
‘Judith’s taking care of it. I’ve recommended a good security firm to her. She’ll be safe.’
* * *
‘Cutter,’ Dade stopped him as he was heading to his ride an hour later.
‘Yeah?’ he turned to face her. Difiore and Quindica, flanking her, looked on with unreadable expressions.
‘You know Covarra’s dead, don’t you?’
‘I saw it on TV, yeah. Salazar, him, a few bangers—’
‘A few?’ the NYPD detective snorted. ‘There were two SUVs filled with hitters. All of them were killed.’
‘I heard that,’ he said mildly.
That was Zeb’s doing. Beth, Meg and he played me, too. They were in LA all along. He had figured it out when he heard the news. That app they got me to install … I bet they could hear everything that happened at my end. They could track me, which is how they could cut Covarra off. I’ll have to ask them how they knew that gang would be coming.
‘Who killed them?’
‘Beats me, Lisa. I was inside that house. On TV they said it was likely to be Armenian Bros.’
‘That’s what we put out as our suspect. We’re still investigating, however.’
You won’t find anything. Not when Zeb’s involved.
‘He knows,’ Difiore accused him. ‘It’s just like that vigilante in New York.’
‘Vigilante?’ Dade’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who was that?’
‘We never found him, or her.’ The detective briefed the chief on the mystery sniper who had saved them from a white supremacist gang.
‘If it hadn’t been for him, or her,’ Cutter said, shrugging and putting on an innocent look, ‘none of us would have been alive.’
‘It’s the same pattern here, too.’ Difiore’s eyes didn’t leave him. ‘Unknown shooters save his ass. If Covarra and his men had come to that house—’
‘They would have shot it out with the Armenians.’
‘Yeah, but sure as heck your trick with the bombs wouldn’t have worked. Street Front wanted you dead. Covarra was impulsive. He would have shot you.’
‘This shooting wasn’t the work of one person. Two vehicles were involved, several guns.’
Cutter shifted uneasily when Dade stared at him, too.
‘I don’t know anything about them,’ he protested.
‘They’re good. We couldn’t find any prints. Spent brass is untraceable. Security cameras at the scene were knocked out.’
Her green eyes had a knowing light, while a small smile played on her lips. Difiore and Quindica had similar looks.
Chloe! She was in the 82nd too and toured Afghanistan. Dade must have known her. The chief would have stayed in touch with the Agency operative. With her contacts, it wouldn’t have been hard for her to work out they’re my friends, and that they’re in town.
‘If you do find them,’ he declared, ‘give them my thanks.’
‘Those shooters recorded Covarra’s confession. That he was the one who shot Lasko.’
He looked up, startled, at the chief.
‘Those shooters emailed me that audio file from a dummy account. It wasn’t needed, since Matt had given his statement by then. That’s not all. A gun dealer was found outside the headquarters, in his Hummer. His hands were tied to the wheel, his legs bound and his mouth taped.’
That’s Cabal. Beth and Meg must have discovered where I dumped his vehicle and recovered it.
‘There was a notebook with him with many entries, all in code. We cracked it. A list of all his transactions. Who he bought weapons from, sold to … we have already busted several bangers from that information.’
‘Nothing to do with me.’ Cutter raised his hands. ‘I don’t know any gun dealers.’
He climbed into his Land Cruiser and fired it up. Lowered the window when Dade tapped on it.
‘You really thought we wouldn’t work it out?’
‘Work what out?’ he played dumb.
‘Tell Beth and Meghan Petersen,’ Difiore said with a smug smile, ‘and Zeb Carter, we said hello.’
He drove away without a word and grinned to himself when he saw them in the mirror staring after him.
Those cops. He couldn’t pull a fast one on them.
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Bonus Chapter from Hangfire, the next Cutter Grogan Thriller
Cutter was in Los Angeles, at a crematorium on Santa Monica Boulevard, when th
e freak thunderstorm struck.
It was the death of two friends, killed in gang violence, that had brought him to the city. On arrival, he had discovered they were victims of a deep-rooted conspiracy. His hunt for the perpetrators had brought him up against vicious gangs and traitors.
I barely survived. He looked up at the grey sky, streaked with flashes of lightning, as people took cover from the sudden downpour. It’s over, finally.
He had taken shelter under a palm tree, but its fronds offered little cover from the rain, which dripped on his head and face. He inched closer to its trunk.
His friends’ last rites had been performed at the crematorium, and he had returned now, on the eve of his departure for home, for some time alone.
Its grounds were an oasis of green in the city, offering calm and solitude to those seeking it. The deluge of rain and dark sky suited his somber mood.
He blinked raindrops from his eyelids and chuckled at departing mourners fleeing for the shelter of their cars. Angelinos, he scoffed inwardly. They can’t handle a few drops of rain.
He patted his pocket when his phone buzzed. Brought it out and frowned. Who could that be? Only a handful of trusted friends had his number.
‘Yeah,’ he barked.
‘Cutter Grogan?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ He straightened instinctively in response to the refined, elderly voice.
‘I got your number from Zeb Carter.’
‘He’s a good friend, ma’am.’
‘He was recommended to me by someone I know … but when I approached him, he mentioned your name. He said you were more suited …’
Suited for what, he wondered when she trailed off. There was no background noise at her end. No other voices, no sirens, car honks. Just a deep silence.
‘You’ve had some issues with the LAPD, Mr. Grogan.’
He blinked at that, wiped his face and rubbed his wet palm against his jeans. She’s done her research on me.
‘I’m not a criminal, ma’am,’ he replied automatically.
‘I know. I wouldn’t have called you if you were.’
Why did you call me? Who are you?
‘Forgive my manners, Mr. Grogan.’ Her voice dropped. ‘I’m Amy Breland.’
Why’s that name familiar?
Breland? Amy Breland? Her?
‘You’re the—’
‘Yes, Mr. Grogan.’ There was a smile in her reply. ‘Some people know me as the Speaker of the House.’
I bet it was President Morgan who recommended Zeb to her.
‘Mr. Grogan, are you there?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ He swallowed. It was not as if he often got calls from one of the most recognized and powerful people in the country. ‘I respond better to Cutter, ma’am.’
‘Cutter? That’s an unusual name.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘You’re called the Fixer, in New York.’
He shuffled his feet in embarrassment. It was a title he had given himself when he had acquired a degree of fame. The name had stuck and gotten him several new clients.
She’s gauging my responses, assessing me … that’s why she’s drawing this out.
‘Yes, ma’am; it sounds good on TV.’
‘I’m not judging you, Cutter.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I have a problem. I’m wondering if you can help me with it.’
‘What’s that, ma’am?’
‘It’s my grand-daughter. Lauren Breland.’
The same name as her?
‘Long story,’ she read his silence correctly. ‘My daughter and son-in-law died in a car accident. She was their only child. I took on caring for her and she took my last name. She’s a freelance journalist, well-regarded. She’s missing.’
‘The cops—’
‘She was investigating a sex-trafficking ring in DC when she disappeared about a week ago.’
‘You should go to the cops, ma’am. They can help better than me.’
‘I can’t. They’re involved in that ring.’
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Books by Ty Patterson:
Most recent first
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Cutter Grogan Series (Zeb Carter Universe)
Two books in the series and counting
Zeb Carter Series
Eight books in the series and counting
Zeb Carter Short Stories
Three books and counting
Warriors Series (Zeb Carter Universe)
Twelve books in the series
Gemini Series (Zeb Carter Universe)
Four thrillers in the series
* * *
Warriors Series Shorts (Zeb Carter Universe)
Six novellas in the series
* * *
Cade Stryker Series
Two military sci-fi thrillers
About the Author
Ty has been a trench digger, loose tea vendor, leather goods salesman, marine lubricants salesman, diesel engine mechanic, and is now an action thriller author.
Ty feels privileged that thriller readers love his books. ‘Unputdownable,’ ‘Turbocharged,’ ‘Ty sets the standard in thriller writing,’ are some of the reviews for his books.
Ty lives with his wife and son, who humor his ridiculous belief that he’s in charge.