I’d learned too many times I couldn’t be trusted not to snooze the alarm until I’d left myself with six minutes to get up and shower before having to make the twenty-minute journey to the station. So, I’d moved my alarm clock into the kitchen, turning it up so loud it forced me to physically get out of bed. By then, I was already next to the coffee machine, so I might as well wake up properly with the magic-bean go-fast juice.
Sipping my coffee, I leaned against the counter and surveyed my home. The townhouse was gifted to me by my father—technically my stepfather, my mother having married him whenI was fourteen—but Garrett was more of a father than my real dad ever was, so I called him Dad, and we were close. He looked after me as well as he did my stepbrother, never making me feel like I wasn’t a true part of the family. Despite my assertion that I was happy to rent, he had been insistent he wanted to provide me with a place to live. Dad wouldn’t accept any money, no matter how many times I tried to sneak cash into his wallet, and any transfers I did were sent straight back. It was no secret he was well-off, his business in real estate taking off once he had several commercial buildings under his belt, but I wasn’t one for handouts. It was only my love and respect for him that forced me to eventually give up trying to pay him back.
God, I hoped he knew how much I loved him.
He’d put the townhouse in my mother’s name and then transferred it to mine at her death due to cancer when I was eighteen, saying he didn’t want it in his name for tax reasons. Whatever that meant. I trusted him to know what he was doing. A businesswoman I was not.
While I wasn’t the neatest person, even for me, I’d let this place get out of hand. There wasn’t a surface that wasn’t covered in something. How did one person accumulate so manythingsanyway? What exactly was I doing in what little spare time I had that required such an array of stuff? There were clothes I’d probably never wear because when I wasn’t in uniform, I tended to stick to the same five items. There were books I promised myself I’d read and an array of things I’d gotten to distract myself, thinking I could invest my time in crafts and that would be enough to stop me from working on a case I was beginning to fear I might never solve without some fresh leads.
I was no detective—yet—but when the station had signed off my father’s death as a suicide, I couldn’t let it slide. He wouldn’t kill himself, he wasn’t the type, and I was certain someone, or several someones, were responsible for his death. There weretoo many inconsistencies. For one, he didn’t leave a note, and he loved my stepbrother and me enough that he wouldn’t even consider leaving without saying goodbye.
For three years I’d been looking into his death, and I’d been led around in circles. It had become apparent I knew next to nothing about his business, and what little I did know was leading me nowhere. I knew he owned and rented out commercial buildings across the city, not so much residential that I was aware of, but no one seemed to know anything. Those in the industry who had a flicker of recognition in their eyes at his name refused to talk to me, and I had no detective badge to flash in their face. Most people were smart enough to know I didn’t have the rank to be asking the questions I was. I knew a handful of the buildings he had owned, and the ownership had changed hands a number of times since his death before turning to trusts with seemingly no one behind them. There was only so much I could find through public records. Visits to these venues had rendered no additional useful information.
This only further cemented my suspicions of foul play.
Had someone wanted his business? The entire thing seemed to crumble after his death, breaking into smaller factions, names changing, and some parts disappearing entirely. There was no way this went unnoticed, but when investigated, it was all evidently legal transfers with my father’s signature in all the right places. But why he’d disband everything and then kill himself within a few months of each other without explanation was a mystery.
Beyond that, how any cop could look at this situation and think nothing was amiss was ridiculous.
Unless they were being paid off.
So, Officer Victor Kim’s death, whose funeral I had attended, stony-faced, maybe had gotten greedy. He wasn’t the only cop in the precinct who I suspected of being dirty, too many of hisreports didn’t add up. There was so much going on in this city which made it abundantly obvious it was being run by some underground crime ring. I couldn’t get my head around the fact no arrests beyond minor players being picked up had been made or that no real investigation was being done. Drugs were a huge issue here, and yet, there was no task force, nothing.
Yeah, I’d been busy, and investigating fellow cops was something you wanted to keep quiet.
Perhaps Officer Kim had asked for too much money, or he had done something that upset the people who were paying him to look the other way. Blackmail maybe? A crime organization powerful enough to kill a cop and feel they could get away with it would certainly be powerful enough to fake the suicide of a businessman and take his assets, making them disappear in name changes and paperwork.
I needed to keep my mouth shut because I’d been warned more than once that if I didn’t stop investigating above my pay grade, I’d be fired, but I liked my job. Despite the corruption that ran through the force, an unfortunate side effect of being in a city like this, I liked to think I could make a difference if only a small one.
Dad was so proud when I joined the force, although my brother seemed to have a big issue with it and never told me why. I thought my brother and I were close, but I always felt there was a part of him he was keeping hidden. As long as we weren’t fighting, though, I was happy because being safe and content in my own home was something important to me, and it was something Dad had offered when he married Mom. Despite them only being married for a few years, he never stopped treating me like family, even after she passed.
If the last thing I could do to honor him was to find who killed him, then so be it.
Strolling back into the bedroom, I stretched my arms abovemy head as I walked, pausing only to jump in an attempt to touch the light fitting that hung from the high ceiling at the end of the narrow hall. I’d never gotten close, but that didn’t stop me from trying every day.
When I went to grab my phone to put some music on, I found Cade’s note, snorting with laughter as I read it.Couldn’t handle my booze,my ass. I’d have to show him how wrong he was one night. He left his number, which I took as a good sign. What I’d gone into with the intention of being only a one-night stand had turned into an enjoyable evening. Before I passed out, that is. God, I was so horny—sex hadn’t been high on my priorities until I decided no-strings sex was what I needed to get out of my head for a change, only to get so close before passing out like a weakling. Checking the time, I contemplated bringing myself off before work. My frustration was pent up after last night, having woken without a warm body next to mine nor satisfaction between my legs. I needed release, and being denied it because I had misjudged my drinks was grating against me. I’d be sure to message Cade later and meet up with him, then maybe we could pick up where we left off.
Exactly where we left off.
Unless…
Would it be weird to ask Cade to come with me tomorrow? Going alone was hard, and it never got any easier. I had no idea where my brother was. I hadn’t been in contact with him since Dad died, and I couldn’t think of anyone else to ask. It had been a while since I’d seen the girls, entirely my fault, I’ll admit, and when I did make an effort to see them again, I didn’t want a potentially emotional trip to be our first catch-up. Cade seemed quiet and sympathetic beyond his suave and arrogant exterior, and even if he were nothing more than a hand to hold to get me through the day, then it would be better than doing it alone.
Again.
The anniversary of my father’s death was difficult, and I had my own way of handling it.
Dressing in my uniform, the only clothes I didn’t sling over the back of a chair and let get wrinkled, I slid my weapon into my holster, making sure the safety was still on and the latch was done up. I’d mostly taught myself how to use it. New recruits were taught to undo the latch and flick the safety in two motions, essentially slowing their response time. But old-school cops did it with one motion, and with practice, I’d mastered the move.
Thankfully, I hadn’t had to use it yet.
Snatching an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter, I stuffed it in my mouth and held it between my teeth while I pulled my hair into a ponytail, taking a bite of the tart fruit only after I locked the door. The city was only beginning to wake up, the sounds of traffic shifting in the distance was a gentle hum that played as a backdrop as I made my way down the small alley to the parking garages out back. Hitting the button, the roller door on the single-car garage hummed to life. These townhouses only allowed for one car per property, and those who had more had to find parking blocks away and walk.
Smiling as my little Honda was revealed bit by bit, the roller door jerking and pausing a few times, I tapped the hood before getting into the car. The paint was peeling on the hood and roof, and the once deep blue was looking pale and aged. But she still purred like a kitten when I started her up, and I patted the steering wheel in praise to thank her for not breaking down, even though I hadn’t had her serviced in over a year.
“You and me both,” I muttered, remembering again the missed opportunity with Cade, that perfect specimen of a man, as the roller door closed behind me, and I pulled into the street.
A girl just can’t catch a break.
