Kill Count (Detective Marcy Kendrick Book 4), page 22
“Jordan? What the hell is going on over there?”
I explained everything that had taken place.
He sighed. “Damn it. I’m taking PTO and heading over to you.”
“Frank, I’m okay. You don’t have to do that—” I started.
“I know I don’t, but I don’t like what’s going on. If El Vibora is targeting you, I’m going to be there to help protect you. I get that Angel is your partner, and during the day you’re covered, but every other second of the day, I’ll have your back. I can’t lose you, Marcy.”
“If you want to be here, I’m not going to send you away. But you know I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make it easier on you.”
“Okay. See you soon,” I said as my phone buzzed, indicating I had another call. “I need to go.”
“I’m already out the door.” He hung up.
I clicked to answer the call. “Captain?”
“It’s been a busy night, Kendrick. Just got a call from Santa Monica. El Vibora hit the safehouse. Burnett is dead.”
I nearly dropped my phone. “How the hell did he manage to get past the detail on her? Did he kill them all?” My heart was racing. He’d killed Valerie and who knew how many others tonight.
“No. He incapacitated one of the officers, but the others were none the wiser until they heard screaming from the officer on Valerie’s bedroom door. Valerie wasn’t just drugged, she was mutilated.”
“Shit.” My whole body was shaking. El Vibora had gotten to Valerie. She was dead. He’d come to murder me after killing her. I could have died. I started hyperventilating.
“Kendrick?”
I couldn’t answer. I was starting to spiral. I sank to the ground, my legs giving out.
“Kendrick!”
My jaw worked as I tried to stop the panic attack. I took several deep breaths, counting backward from ten in my mind.
“Kendrick!”
“Here, sorry, sir,” I finally replied.
“Are you okay?”
I continued breathing deeply and said, “Yes, sir. I just… I had my own encounter with El Vibora tonight. Your news… it hit different.”
“He was there? I thought it was Brasswell you called in about. I was told he attacked your house—”
“He did, and El Vibora shot him. Jordan interrupted his attack on me.”
I still couldn’t believe how lucky I had actually been tonight. First hearing him entering my house, then turning at just the right time to miss being stabbed with that syringe, and then the standoff prior to Jordan breaking the window. It was a miracle I was still alive. I glanced up at the night sky and thanked the Lord for watching over me. I wasn’t sure He existed, but things like this made me believe he probably did. I’d err on the side that He did.
“You said Brasswell was shot?”
“They’re loading him into the ambulance right now.”
“Okay, okay.” He paused, and I could almost hear him thinking. A moment later, he said, “Once your house is secured, you and Angel head over to the safehouse in Santa Monica. They’ve already removed the body, and their CSI team is doing their own investigation, but I know you’ll want to see the scene for yourself. I’ve contacted Captain Stafford, and he’s asked CSI to hold the scene for you. I’m also having everything they’ve found sent over to our CSI team. You’ll have the reports by the time you get back later. I’ll check in with the hospital on Brasswell and keep you updated.”
“Captain, about Jordan. It might be a good idea to put him on a seventy-two-hour psych watch. He’s not stable.”
“I’ll make it happen.” He hung up.
I started toward the house as I dialed Frank again. He answered before the first ring was even complete.
“You still good?” he asked, then added, “I’m turning onto Santa Monica Boulevard right now.”
“Hey, I’m still good, but stay in Santa Monica. I have to come there. The safehouse was hit, and Burnett is dead.”
“Shit, okay, what’s the address? I’ll meet you there.”
“I’ll text it to you as soon as Robinson sends it to me. See you in a bit.”
“Be safe.”
I pocketed my phone and stepped through my front door. “Angel?” I called.
Angel came out of the kitchen with a plastic evidence bag containing the syringe. “What’s up?”
“Burnett’s dead. El Vibora hit the safehouse.”
“Shit.” He moved toward me and pulled me into a hug, holding me tight. “I could have lost you tonight.” His body was shaking as he held me.
“You didn’t.”
“But I could have.”
I allowed him to take several calming breaths before I pushed at him, and he let me go. “I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere,” I assured him. “I’m going to get dressed, and we need to head over to Santa Monica.”
He nodded slowly. “I’ll have Mendoza take over the scene and get this evidence to Lindsey.”
I glanced into my kitchen and saw the broken window. “Can you also have him grab some wood from the shed in the backyard and cover the window?”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Thanks, Angel.” I moved to my bedroom, set my Glock on the dresser, and closed my bedroom door. I changed into my usual work attire and holstered my weapon, grabbed my purse, and returned to the living room.
After giving my house keys to Mendoza, Angel and I headed to Santa Monica. He drove, and I sent Frank the address. We were there within the hour. The SMPD CSI team was still there, as were the officers who’d been on duty watching over Burnett.
I still couldn’t figure out how they’d managed to not hear anything. I was livid. El Vibora should never have been able to get to her. I strode over to the four officers, who were seated on the couch in the living room. Frank and Angel flanked me, their arms folded like two badass bodyguards; all they needed were the dark glasses to finish the look. The idea made me smirk internally, but I kept my amusement off my face. It wasn’t hard. I was still pissed off these officers had allowed Burnett to be murdered.
“Explain to me how an assassin was able to get past the three of you to incapacitate her”—I nodded toward Officer Miller—“and kill Detective Burnett?” I demanded.
“We’ve been over this already with SMPD,” one of them, Drake, complained.
“Yeah, read our statements,” Officer Schueller said, sounding mulish.
My eyes flashed to Miller, who was rubbing her neck and looked haunted. “What about you? How did he manage to get the drop on you?”
“I don’t know. I was standing in the hallway outside the bedroom door. I was leaning against the wall, my eyes shut, but I wasn’t asleep. I swear I wasn’t. I heard a sound and partially opened my eyes, but the only person I saw was Scott. I figured he was checking on Valerie, so I started to say something, and a moment later his hand was on my mouth. Next thing I knew, Scott was stabbing me with a needle—”
“It wasn’t me! I was in the living room with them.” He pointed at the other two officers, Drake and Castavella. “Wasn’t I? Tell them!”
“He ordered pizza, and we were all waiting in the living room for it to arrive,” Officer Drake said. “He was out of our line of sight for about two minutes, but we could hear him the whole time as he called in the pizza order.”
“Well, it damn well looked like you,” Miller insisted. “If it wasn’t you, you’ve got a fucking psycho twin out there!”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Somehow El Gato hadn’t just found out where the safehouse was, he’d known who the officers on duty were and had given El Vibora Officer Schueller’s image to mimic. We had another leak. I had to wonder though, since these officers were from Huntington Beach, if the leak had come from their precinct. How many police departments had El Gato infiltrated? We’d need to widen our search. I needed to talk to the DA.
“I want to see the scene,” I said, turning to Angel and Frank.
“You sure about that? It’s pretty bloody,” Officer Castavella said.
I looked over my shoulder and stared blandly at them before returning my gaze to Frank and Angel. “Where’s the CSI lead?” I asked, trying to recall his name. “It’s Jazz, right?”
Frank nodded. “I thought I saw him outside; want me to get him?”
“Please.”
“Should we head on back to the scene?” Angel murmured, looking around.
“Yeah. Frank, meet us back there with Jazz.”
“Will do.”
We walked around the couch and through the archway into the breakfast nook area, then turned right to get into the hallway. I paused and returned to the archway, looking at the layout. I glanced at the group seated with their backs to us. “What were you three doing while you waited for the pizza to get here?” I called from the opening.
All four turned to look over their shoulders at me, but it was Schueller who answered. “I was seated over there”—he pointed to a chair that was out of the kitchen’s line of sight—“Drake and Castavella were on the couch, pretty much where they are now, and we were watching the game.”
“What are you thinking?” Angel asked.
“I’m thinking he came in through this door,” I replied, tilting my head toward the back door in the kitchen.
As I spoke, the front door opened, and Frank and Jazz started down the hall toward us. “The front door has that squeak. He wouldn’t have come in that way unless one of them let him in,” I murmured, keeping my voice low.
“You think one of them is compromised?” Angel questioned, his voice barely a whisper.
I nodded. “I do, but I still don’t think that’s how he got in.” I glanced at Jazz and smiled. “Hey, Jazz. Good to see you.”
“You too, Detective Kendrick. You want to see the scene?”
“I do, but first, did you dust this door for prints?”
“We dusted every possible entry point including the door, and good guess. There’s scrapings on the lock, but no prints. Pretty sure the killer wore gloves,” he replied as he pulled the back door open and showed us the dead bolt keyhole.
“I just remembered,” Miller said, joining us. “The hand that was over my mouth… I think he was wearing clear latex gloves or something. I could see the flesh of his hand, so it was definitely see-through, but I felt the smoothness of the gloves.”
“If you remember anything else, give us a call,” Angel said, handing her a card with our direct line.
“I will.” She took the card and returned to the living room.
Jazz shut the door and then directed us to the scene. Inside the bedroom I could see the bloody outline of Valerie’s body. Jazz explained that they had pictures of everything, but they were already on their way to Lindsey along with all the evidence they’d collected. He showed us where the queen of clubs had been and how it had been stabbed with a hunting knife.
“This isn’t his usual MO, is it?” I murmured, looking at Angel.
“Not usually. I’m guessing El Gato wanted to send a message,” he replied.
“Don’t cross him would be my guess,” Frank said. His eyes were haunted as he looked at me.
I watched him clench his fingers into fists, and I was sure he was doing his best not to drag me toward him and wrap me in his arms in an effort to keep me safe. I gave him a slight shake of my head. Now wasn’t the time.
His gaze met mine, and after a moment he gave me a nod. “What now?”
“Can you make sure whatever detective was on this scene gets us their statements?” I hadn’t seen another detective, so I assumed they’d released the scene to Jazz and his crew.
“I can do that,” he replied as we left the bedroom.
“If you don’t need me anymore, I’m going to finish up and get out of here,” Jazz said.
“We’re good. Angel and I are going to head back to LA and get started on going over the reports as they come in.” I looked back to Frank. “Are you still going to take PTO?”
“I was planning to,” he replied, opening the front door.
“I’ll meet you at the car,” Angel said, taking off.
I glanced at Angel and then looked back at Frank. I took a step closer, and my fingers found his. “Can you come by the station and pick up my house keys? Mendoza has them because he’s making sure my house is locked up.”
“Sure.” He squeezed my fingers with his. “I’ll call the window guy too and get that fixed. Maybe we should go stay at a hotel tonight. I don’t like the idea of this guy being who knows where with a hit out on your head. A hotel room might throw him off and give you some added security.”
The idea of that had merit, so I nodded. “I’ll think about it, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s scared me.”
Frank shook his head, but smiled. “You are so stubborn, you know that?”
I grinned. “I do. You love me anyway.”
His face grew solemn, and he nodded. “I really do.”
It was then I realized what I’d just said. My eyes widened as I understood what he was saying. I swallowed and stepped closer. “Me too,” I whispered, my heart racing.
He raised a hand to my cheek, caressing my face, his gaze on mine, and I could see a lifetime of love in his eyes. “Promise?”
“Promise.” Not caring who was watching, I pushed up on my toes and kissed him. “I do, Frank,” I said, my voice breathy.
“Be safe, please? I can’t…” His voice broke as he looked deep into my eyes.
“I know. I will.” I hugged him tight. “I have to go,” I said, stepping back from him.
“I’ll see you later,” he promised, and then walked me to the car.
We said our goodbyes, and I got in the car, and Angel and I headed to the station. Angel was quiet for most of the drive, but I didn’t mind. I was still reeling from that conversation with Frank. We hadn’t exactly said the words, but it was the closest we’d gotten to admitting our feelings.
“You okay?” Angel asked, glancing at me as we pulled up to the station.
“Yeah. I’m good.” I smiled.
As we walked into the office, my phone rang. The number wasn’t familiar, but something told me not to ignore it. “This is Detective Kendrick,” I answered, keeping my voice even, though I was hesitant.
“I’m calling to give you a present, Detective.” The male voice had a Hispanic accent to it.
I froze. “Who is this?”
He chuckled, but it was dark and humorless. “You know the answer to that. Do you not want to know the gift I have for you?”
Warily, I replied, “I won’t be accepting any gifts from you unless it’s you turning yourself in and confessing.”
Once again, he chuckled, but then his voice turned to a growl. “I’m going to ignore your impertinence. I suggest you head down to your evidence room. El Vibora should be there as we speak. I’ve ordered him to destroy the evidence you’ve got on me. If you hurry, you’ll catch him in the act, and you’ll have your killer, but you won’t be able to touch me. Goodbye, Detective.”
“Angel! Captain! El Vibora is in the building!” I shouted.
Angel turned, and Captain Robinson came from his office. Chaos ensued as everyone began talking, asking questions.
“He’s in the evidence room,” I said, hurrying to my desk and picking up the desk phone to call down to the evidence room.
The phone rang several times, but no one answered.
“Kendrick, Reyes, Hummel and Vance, go down there and don’t let him get away,” Robinson ordered. “Call up if you need more backup. I want this guy today!”
We rushed to the elevator, and I pressed the button over and over again, willing it to reach us faster. I knew it didn’t work that way, but I didn’t care. As soon as the doors opened, I pushed inside and hit the button for the basement. The ride down felt like it took hours, but it was less than a minute.
I pulled my weapon and noticed the others do the same. Rushing down the hallway, I noticed several fallen officers lying prone on the floor. “Hummel, Vance, check for survivors and then call up to the captain and get more backup.”
“On it,” Hummel murmured.
Angel and I continued forward, passing a couple more injured cops, through the doors into the evidence room. Two of the officers there lay on the ground, bleeding out from gunshot wounds. One who was still lucid pointed toward the aisles of evidence on the left of the room.
I nodded and mouthed, “Hang in there; help is on the way.”
I passed through the barrier gate into the evidence area and moved to the end cap of the closest aisle, then peeked around the corner. It was empty, so I quietly moved to the next aisle and did the same. I could see El Vibora standing in the middle of the aisle, digging through one of the evidence boxes. I pulled back and indicated to Angel to go around to the other end, and we’d box him in.
Angel nodded, and I watched until he disappeared around the end, then counted to three. We’d done this before.
On three I moved, aiming my gun at El Vibora, and said, “LAPD, you’re under arrest!”
36
HE’S A GHOST
MARCY
“Don’t move!” I shouted, adrenaline racing through my veins. “If I even think you’re going for a weapon, I will shoot you.”
El Vibora dropped the hard drive he’d had in his hand into the box. He turned, his hands up, and smiled, but it was a creepy smile. His eyes held amusement, as though this was all a joke to him. “Well played, Detective. I’ll come quietly.”
Angel rushed from the other end of the aisle and grabbed El Vibora’s hand, pulling it behind his back as I read him his Miranda rights. Once he was cuffed, Angel patted him down and found his gun as well as two syringes.
There was a bag leaning against the shelving unit, and I squatted down to look in it. It held what looked like C-4 and some wires. I glanced up at him and backed up. “See if he has a remote on him somewhere. I don’t want this going off and taking out half the evidence room.”
Angel patted him down again, pulling everything from his pockets, then made him lift his feet so he could take off his shoes and socks to check in them. He found the remote in his left shoe. “Got it.”
