Page 43 of Love Above Law

After reading the entirety of the email, my eyes finally land on the name and address. Chad Ridder.

Like any metropolitan city, Seattle has its own district riddled with drugs and crime and this guy's address is right in the heart of it. I quickly enter the name and address into our system. "Looks like he's been in and out of jail since the age of eighteen. He has a long rap sheet, mostly petty crimes. He was also a suspect in an identity theft case a couple of years back, but those charges were later dropped due to lack of evidence." Lifting my wrist, I look at the time. "We need a search warrant."

"Already on it," Kai tells me.

A couple of hours later we have a warrant in our hands and Kai, and I are standing outside a rundown apartment complex. It's one of those areas where drug activity and prostitution are boldly displayed in broad daylight. As we enter the building, we come across someone passed out on the steps leading up to the first story. Noticing his chest rise and fall with steady breaths we continue up the stairs. The guy we are looking for is supposedly on the second floor in apartment 18B. The smell in this building reeks of piss and vomit the further we get down the hall. Once we reach the apartment door of our suspect, the distinct smell of death permeates all around us.

"Fuck, man. That is not a good sign," Kai coughs at the smell.

I bang on the door with my fist, "FBI."

We wait for a beat.

Nothing.

Kai steps to the side, we pull our weapons and prepare for anything or anyone who could be behind that door. Taking action, I raise my foot and kick the door in. It doesn't take but that one time for the cheap deadbolt to rip from the doorframe.

The stench intensifies as soon as the door opens. We announce ourselves one more time before stepping into the apartment. "FBI. Chad Ridder, show yourself." I keep my gun trained, ready to fire, trying to ignore the urge to vomit on the floor.

After clearing the living room and kitchen area we split. There are two doors off the living room—both closed. Kai positions himself to the side of one, and I do the same with the other. Simultaneously we turn the knobs shoving the doors open.

"Clear," Kai calls out.

I take in the scene before me. "Found our guy," I tell him. Kai steps beside me. Neither one of us steps inside the small bedroom.

"Fuck," Kai says what I'm thinking.

Who I'm assuming, by what's left of his face, is Chad Ridder, slumped over in his desk chair. There is blood and matter everywhere. By the color and bloating of his body, he has been dead a few days. "Shit. Do not go in there. Let's call it in."

After calling it in, the complex and the small apartment becomes swarmed with activity as teams of people come to collect evidence, take photos—everything we may need for the case. Kurt showed up thirty minutes ago. With gloves on, some of us start combing through things outside the hazardous zone in the bedroom. Kai comes across a cell phone buried under a pile of half-eaten takeout containers on the coffee table. Flipping it over he swipes the screen. A couple of text messages pop up.

Payment was made

Too bad. I want more, or I give you up to the feds.

"Turn it over to our guys over there," I lift my chin toward the other side of the room. "They're getting ready to transport Chad's laptop and desktop system to headquarters. Let's see what they can give us now that they have direct access to his personal files," I tell him.

It turns out Chad had a shit ton of useful information leading to the one suspect we could never find after the raid on Santino's place—Hugo Diaz. He was Santino's right hand man—his enforcer. And from the looks of everything laid out before us, Santino put too much trust in the man and now he's looking to take his old boss's place. Hugo managed to disappear and during that time paid Chad to hack into not just the U.S based account but some overseas accounts as well. He was stealing millions of dollars. Good thing for us Hugo isn't that bright; he should have never trusted a hacker with a drug problem.

Chad Ridder also owed some debt he accumulated to feed his hunger for the needle over the years and apparently the amount paid to him wasn't enough. Fear drove him to blackmail, and I'm willing to bet Hugo didn't like it. Though we can't prove it yet, I'm positive Chad was killed by Hugo Diaz. One pissed off Hugo, and a large caliber bullet put through the skull of Chad Ridder later solved his drug habit and Hugo's problems—so he thought. Every bit of this information found on Chad's cell and a USB drive found in his pants pocket is right here. Everything we need to take down Hugo Diaz; if we can find him.

Pushing away from my desk, I stride across the office toward the coffee station and pour myself a cup. Needing a breather, I take my coffee and make my way to the roof of the building. The moment fresh air hits my face, I take a deep breath in. The loose gravel crunches beneath the soles of my shoes as I walk toward the ledge and set my cup down. The sun feels good on my face, and I close my eyes clearing my head of all the shit I've taken in today.

Thoughts of Leyna flood my mind. Pulling my phone out, I give her a call.

"Hey," Leyna sounds chipper.

"Hey, beautiful." I rub my forehead as the first signs of a headache presents itself as a dull throb above my right eye.

"You sound tired."

"It's been a long morning. I took a moment for myself, and your voice is the only sound I want to hear, so tell me about your day so far," I change the subject.

"Dana just picked me up. Going to lunch and doing some shopping is on our list of things to do until our shift starts," she tells me over the sounds of music playing from the radio in the background.

Needing to head back inside I tell her, "have fun and call me when you get to work. See you tonight, beautiful."

I can hear the smile in her voice when she answers back.