49
FIVE YEARS AGO
Zayne (33 years)
I stood at the back of the room watching Phil Andrews make his speech. He and I first met during a case I worked for the TRA that tied into a case the Chicago PD had previously investigated. He’d become my go-to man and since then we collaborated on a few more cases. If we weren’t working, I’d fly into Chicago, and we’d hang out either at his horse farm in the countryside or the bar his sister owned in the city. They made the best damn steaks there.
Now, Phil was retiring, and he’d invited me to visit. Figuring I could do with the distraction, I flew in that morning and walked in on the celebration. The precinct erupted in noisy applause followed by a spate of handshakes as congratulations spewed out all across the room. Then he spotted me.
“Gabriel?” He came toward me. “Jesus, it’s been a long fucking five years, my boy.”
I grinned. “Six to be exact.” I grasped his hand in a firm shake.
“Then I’m definitely getting old.” He threw back his head in a loud laugh.
“So, retirement. I envy you. Finally, leaving this shithole for fun and sun.” I walked with him back to his office and propped myself on the corner of his desk.
Phil laughed. “You should’ve come worked for me when you had the chance and probably take over all my cases as the new Captain. Then again given that getup, I doubt you would’ve made it as a cop.” He tipped his chin at my clothes.
“What the fucks wrong with the way I dress. It brings me pussy.”
“Precisely. You look like a goddamn runway model. You’d never pass for a cop.” He chuckled. “By the way how’s that young lady you told me about when I called to invite you over. Any change?”
“No. Still in the coma.” He referred to the battered woman I’d found in my club. When he called and asked what I was up to, I’d mentioned her and that none of her family had come forward.
“How long has she been under?” Phil asked.
“Almost three years.” Strangely, she’s the woman I was supposed to have killed the week before. But the client had pulled out. My mark ending up in my premises was too much of a coincidence to ignore and why I’d chosen to use a pseudonym and Zayne seemed like the ideal option. It kept Ria close. Declan was now also frantic about finding out the identity of the client, a detail I normally didn’t bother with.
“Fuck, that’s long.” Phil shook his head, his expression solemn. He glanced over his shoulder when, Jordan, the front desk rookie, I’d met when I arrived, knocked on the door.
“Phil, there’s a Jaz out front waiting to speak to you.”
Phil nodded with a sigh. “Thanks.”
“Why the long face?” I asked, frowning.
He puffed out a loud breath. “There’s this case I worked for a year or so. Sweet girl that I promised I’d try to get it solved before I retired. Unfortunately, no leads, and the case went cold. She comes in here every month asking for something I can’t give her.”
I moved to stand by the window as he moved files around his cramped office. “You want to talk about it. You know fresh eyes and all that shit.” We’d done this before. Where he’d work a case and where he reached a dead-end he’d call me and we’d bang our heads together figuring the shit out.
“Sure.” He nodded, dropping to his chair and running a hand over his semi-bald hair. “Her sister was killed in a drive-by shootout and her nephew, a fifteen-month-old boy was in the car with his mother at the time. The child disappeared. No trace. I tracked a few leads for a while then the trail grows cold quickly. A case of rinse, repeat. There were several witnesses, all with the same story.”
“Coincidence?”
“Honestly, I don’t have a clue. I mean I’ve had cases before but at least they add up. Here, we don’t know if the mother or the child was the intended target. Judging by the way the vehicle was shot up, I’d bet my bottom dollar, the bastards didn’t even know a kid was in the car.”
“You think they went in to make sure she was dead, saw the kid, and took him.” I rubbed my jaw, my curiosity piqued.
“Only logical explanation.” He shrugged. “Witnesses all saw a black SUV with dark windows. Two men got out, walked up to her vehicle after she’d rammed into a pole and shot her in the chest. She died with the head against the backrest. One guy leaned down to check her pulse. Made a call and then they left. Same recount from every witness. At first, it seemed too practiced then we ran backgrounds on all the witnesses. Except for a few parking violations and DUI’s, nothing.”
“Sounds like a hit.” My gut was usually right on the money. “What about the dead woman? Did you run background on her?”
He shook his head. “Didn’t need to. She was the new DA, barely two weeks on the job.”
