by J. V. Speyer
Phoenix
A Hunter Novel
J. V. Speyer
Copyright © 2021
Jessica Voloudakis writing as J. V. Speyer
138 Franklin Street, Braintree, MA 02184
857-212-6355
[email protected]
Published by Jessica Voloudakis
Edited by Quiethouse Editing
Cover design by Bad Doggie Designs
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Also by J. V. Speyer
About the Author
For Sophia
Chapter One
Luis yawned and massaged his temples. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be back at home in his bed, with his cat curled up by one side and Donovan on the other. The new chill to the weather, normal for Boston in October, made the scenario even more appealing. There was nothing better to ward against the odious autumn breeze than a lover beside him.
Well, nothing except actually doing his job. Luis had tried to prep for a trial that way once, bringing his notes and laptop home. His intentions had been pure. His actions hadn’t, and he’d come perilously close to letting a serial rapist walk free.
He’d salvaged the situation. The guy was in the maximum security prison in Cranston, Rhode Island, where he belonged. He’d be there for the foreseeable future too. The fact that things had worked out once before didn’t mean they’d turn out so well again. Luis wasn’t going to take a chance like that with a defendant like this one.
He looked down at his screen again. In some ways, Santo Gelens wasn’t anything to write home about. Luis had met hundreds of pedophiles over the course of his career. He’d met plenty of pornographers. He’d met hundreds of people who abducted children, and while they might have surface differences, they were exactly the same underneath it all.
Gelens had delivered Luis a first in his career though. He’d never met the guy who turned all those pathologies into a large-scale profitable career. Gelens abducted children, filmed himself abusing them, and produced and distributed the films that earned him the extra-special federal charges. Then he sold the children off to the highest bidder when he was done.
Or killed them. Whichever seemed easier at the time.
Kevin returned to his desk from wherever he’d been. He might get called to testify too. They’d worked the case together, after all. He’d seen everything Luis had.
“How are you holding up?” Kevin plopped a bottle of water down in front of Luis.
Luis toyed with the water bottle. He didn’t think he was up to drinking it yet. “This guy has to know we’ve got him dead to rights. The only reason he’s insisting on a full trial is to traumatize the jury.”
“You’re probably not wrong.” Kevin sat down. “I mean you are the psychologist. That makes you the expert. I can’t help but wonder if he’s pleading not guilty because he truly doesn’t see anything wrong with what he did though. Plenty of these guys just never do.”
Luis considered that option for a moment. “Nah.” He opened his eyes and sat up straight again, but he averted his eyes from the screen. There weren’t any pictures, but the words were enough.
“His lawyer might try that, but Gelens made every effort to conceal his activities. That’s consciousness of guilt right there—which means he knew it was wrong, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with the law. And the ones he killed were the ones who resisted the most strongly—the ones who seem to have tried to escape. Again, it shows he knew what he was doing was wrong and he would face serious consequences if he was caught. Also, note how he avoided showing his face on camera and disguised his voice.”
Kevin grinned. “Nice work. The lawyers won’t trip you up there.” Then he sighed, smile falling away. It hadn’t reached his eyes anyway. It never did, on cases having to do with children. “I can’t imagine what kind of defense he can offer other than insanity. Who defends someone like him?”
Luis shrugged. He couldn’t quite get up the same passion Kevin did when it came to defense lawyers. “Someone has to. Everyone has the right to defense, right?” He squirmed. “I mean, yeah—this guy is guilty, there’s no way he’s not guilty, I’ll go to my actual grave screaming his guilt. But we do fuck up sometimes, as a class. Remember Sacco and Vanzetti.”
Kevin shuddered. “I know. I hate it, but you’re right. I’m just complaining about it right now because I don’t want to waste time sitting in the courthouse when I could be working on any of my actual open cases. It’s not like Gelens is the only dirtbag ruining lives in New England.”
“Tell me about it.” Luis huffed out a little laugh. “At least this one’s in Boston. Remember when we had to go testify up in Maine, every day, for weeks?”
“I’ve never eaten so much lobster in my life.” Kevin chuckled. “The prosecutor thought he was making it up to us, but honestly I thought I was turning into a lobster by the end of it. I still have dreams where my hands have turned to claws.”
Luis laughed. “Right? With any luck we can get through this quickly and get back to work. I know court testimony is part of the job. It’s just one of the less fun parts.”
“Could be paperwork.”
Luis made a face. “I’d rather—” He stopped himself. “Wait. No. I wouldn’t. Oh, hey, did I tell you my father asked for a new trial?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Kevin curled his lip. “On what basis?”
“On the basis of taxpayers having money to waste, I guess. I don’t know. He didn’t exactly call me to discuss his defense. The judge laughed in his face, which was nice of her.” Luis cracked his knuckles. “Remind me to send her a fruit basket or something.”
“Could look fishy.” Kevin chuckled. He hadn’t needed to tell Luis that, and Luis knew it. He was just messing with Luis. “Have your foster dad do it.”
“Good point. You know he’s thinking about retiring?” Luis smiled at the thought. “I have no idea what he’ll do with his time, but good for him. He deserves it. He and Eduardo found each other so late in life, they should get to enjoy each other.”
The old stab of guilt was there, just as it always would be. Jose had kept himself celibate while Luis had lived with him because he didn’t want to create problems for either of them. Luis knew he was gay by the time Jose took him in, and Jose had been worried about the optics. Jose insisted he didn’t mind, he was happy to make that choice, but Luis’ gut still twisted every time he thought about the opportunities Jose had given up for his sake.
Kevin’s smile turned soft. “It just proves we can find love at any age. Maybe there’s someone for me out there.” Then he barked out a laugh. “Of course, the way things have gone lately, they’ll probably be a crook we have to arrest. Or worse, they’ll work for the Organized Crime unit.”
Luis laughed at that one. “Ugh. God forbid! You couldn’t tolerate one of those jerks. You need someone intelligent.” He shook his head. “Can you believe they tried to take a serial killer case out of my hands because the guy had an Italian name?”
“Of course they did.” Kevin snorted. “I assume you smacked them down, right?”
“Yes, I did. Hard.” He smirked. “The crime scene photos alone had the one guy, the one who’s obsessed with clothes, running for the bathroom.”
“I’l
l bet. Hey, how’s Donovan doing with his promotion?” Kevin perked up.
A surge of pride threatened to burst through Luis’ chest. He was amazed Kevin couldn’t see it. He was all but lighting the office by himself. “It’s only been a few months, but the closure rate is up by ten percent already. Statistically, it could just be the result of a shift in personnel or getting rid of dead weight like Porras, but I honestly think it’s because of Donovan. He’s so humble about it too, he’s not bragging or anything. I found out about it from Alicia.”
“Oh my God, look at you gushing.” Kevin’s smile grew fond. “When are you going to make an honest man out of him already?”
Luis’ face burned. “I don’t know. I mean it’s something to think about.” He reached into the drawer where he locked his gun when he was at the office. The small velvet-covered box was there, right where he kept it locked up so Donovan wouldn’t find it. Now he pulled it out and tossed it to Kevin.
“I have been thinking about it. For a while now.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Kevin’s face. “I just don’t know how to bring it up, or what to say. I mean we’ve only been living together since the spring. It’s too early, isn’t it? It’s definitely too early. It’s definitely rushing.”
“Luis, you own a home together. You share a cat.” Kevin cleared his throat. “It’s not rushing. And the ring is beautiful. You have fantastic taste.”
“It’s too much. He’s not a jewelry kind of guy. He’d never wear it. He’d tell me I’m being ridiculous, which I kind of am. And seriously, who needs a piece of paper to make their relationship real? Being married didn’t make either of our parents particularly happy. Shit, my parents were married, and my father still murdered my mom.” Luis’ heart slammed against his ribcage, racing faster than it had when facing any suspect. “He’ll probably say no on those grounds alone, right? I mean, like father like son, he’d turn me down out of self-preservation—”
“Luis, breathe.” Kevin got out of his chair, came around the desks, and put his hands on Luis’ shoulders. “It’s not too early. If you want to marry him, and I think you must because you went out and bought a beautiful ring, you should ask him. Don’t let your brain spin into a frenzy of doubt because both of your fathers are assholes.”
Luis took a deep breath. Kevin was right, and Luis knew this on a mostly intellectual level. “I want to.” He swallowed hard. “I just . . . I need to get my head straight first. He’s kind of . . . you know?”
Look at you, all that book learning and still about as articulate as a baby. His father’s voice mocked him from his prison cell.
“He can be touchy—he can be insecure, just like I can.” Luis mentally flipped off the pathetic old man who still occupied too much space in his head. “My doubts don’t have anything to do with him or with my love for him or with our relationship. They have everything to do with my own insecurities. If I show those doubts though, it’s likely to hurt him and feed into his issues—which are also valid, and not something I want to feed.”
“Well, you are the psychologist.” Kevin huffed out a little laugh. “What are you going to do? Hoard the ring like Sméagol?”
Luis took the box back and hunched over it, petting it in imitation of the popular fantasy character. He locked it back in its drawer. “Maybe.” Then he smiled. “I think I’ll book a few appointments with Father Geoffrey. I know exactly why I’m freaking out, but it’s not the kind of thing I can cure on my own.”
Kevin patted him on the back. “Look at you, being all healthy and stuff! Who’d have thought, back when you two first reunited?”
Luis laughed, even though he was blushing. It felt good to be at a point where he could laugh at himself now. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t in the best place back then. But I’m getting better, and so is he.” He looked over at his computer. “And honestly, I think I’m as prepared as I’m going to be for tomorrow’s testimony.”
“Knowing you, you’re going to be more prepared than the judge or either attorney.” Kevin snorted. “I think you’re good, Luis.”
“It never hurts to be ready.” He winked. “But now I’m going to go home and enjoy some time with the love of my life and our cat. It helps to remember why we’re here, you know?”
Kevin headed back to his desk. “You’re right. It does.”
Donovan looked up when his office door opened for his five o’clock appointment. He’d barely gotten used to having an office, much less a door that opened. That was definitely one of the better perks of the job. The extra pay was nice too. Additional paperwork—that wasn’t much fun at all.
When he saw the person disturbing the pristine quiet of his office, he grinned and rose. “Special Agent Morales.” He got out from behind his desk and came around to shake Alex’s hand.
Alex still had hair longer than regulation length, but he spent enough time undercover that no one complained. Today, he wore his full fed suit though, and professionalism looked good on him even with the hair.
“No one told me you were the agent assigned to this case. It’s good to see you, man.”
Alex laughed and gave Donovan a quick hug. “I told them not to tell you. I wanted it to be a surprise, just to see the look on your face. Nice new digs. Looks like they still squeak when you turn a corner too fast. Congratulations, Lieutenant Carey.”
Donovan laughed and took his seat, more relaxed than he’d been all week. “Thanks. I won’t pretend it was easy, but you knew that.”
“Yeah.” Alex looked away for a second. “We’re still scouring Boston PD for some of the bad apples. Captain Power seems to be doing a good job all on his own around here.”
Donovan winced. Captain Power wasn’t taking any prisoners in his quest to root out conspirators who’d helped hide Fred Carey’s murder of five protestors ten years before.
“Yeah, well, he’s definitely a man on a mission. And the brass isn’t going to get in his way, that’s for damn sure. I try to stay out of it. It was bad enough when everyone thought I was the kind of guy who killed six people in cold blood, you know?”
“I can only imagine.” Alex shuddered. “So what’s it been like on this side of the desk?”
“Weird. I feel like I’ve been gaining weight every day. I haven’t been, I make sure to work out and eat right, but I’m behind a desk and not out there chasing down bad guys. We’ve been doing a lot of good, and I’m proud of the work we’ve been doing, but it’s an adjustment.” He chuckled and shook his head. “You know, I always thought it was the kind of job a guy got when he was too old to work in the field anymore. But hey, I’m in my midthirties. When I thought that way, I thought my midthirties was too old to be in the field.” He spread his hands wide. “What can I say?”
Alex’s answering grin was impish. “Well, you know, I can see where you might think that . . .”
Donovan shook his fist. “Get off my lawn, young whippersnapper!”
They shared a laugh, and then Alex sobered. “So about this case. It’s a little tricky, in terms of jurisdiction.”
Donovan rolled his eyes. “That’s because we’re not sure whose jurisdiction it falls under yet. We know there’s crime happening. State lines are probably being crossed, which means there’s probably some federal involvement. That’s not rocket science. The question is, who takes the lead and what’s the protocol here?”
This was part of the reason Donovan hated working with federal agencies. Sure, he’d gotten the chance to reunite with the love of his life through working with the FBI. They’d still had to do this weird dance around who called the shots, and even then, it had been more clear-cut. The FBI had been asked to assist. Murder was a state crime, not federal.
This was a drug-trafficking operation, possibly including complications such as human trafficking, and it was happening in a part of the state that dipped right into Connecticut. The jurisdictional questions alone would keep an army of lawyers employed for decades.
Alex snorted. “Oddly enough, my superiors didn
’t feel compelled to call DC for this one. They ‘trust you and Lieutenant Carey to deal with the crime first, and sort the paperwork out later.’ ”
Donovan stared at Alex for a moment. “You’re kidding.” He laughed then. “Good one. You almost had me.”
“I’m not joking.” Morales shrugged, supremely relaxed. “I know it sounds bizarre, but it’s the truth. They know Justice is getting squirrelly right now. They’d rather take down this ring than have that bunch of—er, charming and dedicated souls swoop in and mess everything up to try to look like the heroes.” Morales’ grin twisted, becoming wry. “We know our reputation, and we know the limitations we’re working under. All we want at the end of the day—most of us, anyway—is to make the country safer. From what it looks like, that’s not happening out in Southwick.”
Donovan shook his head and closed his eyes. “They tied a dude to a tree outside a bar and let him bleed out from a handful of cuts. That’s not safe.”
“Yikes. I didn’t see that in our report.”
“It only happened a couple of days ago. Considering the victim was suspected of snitching, I don’t think we’re going to get far in that specific investigation. Trace might give us something, but I don’t want to push witnesses into getting themselves killed. I’m happy to have help with this one.”
“And we’re happy to have local help dealing with an organized crime ring. Er, did you tell Luis you were working with Organized Crime on this?” Alex bit his lip.
Donovan chuckled. “I did. And he cursed. In four languages. I love it when he does that.”
Alex ducked his head, maybe a little sheepishly. Maybe Donovan was reading into it. Donovan never exactly forgot about Luis’ past with Alex. He couldn’t. He couldn’t forget that he was the one Luis wanted, chose to spend his life with, either.