Page 86 of Ricochet

Without fear.

He may have found a weakness in me, but in him, I found strength.

The experience didn’t cure me of my fear. In fact, even then, my body trembled as the water level bobbed at my chest. It merely proved that I wouldn’t let my anxieties stand in the way of what I wanted.

CHAPTER 37

Chief Cox

Tucked inside his office, Cox read through the file for Julius ‘Casanova’ Malone. He’d known the kid from the time he could walk. Julius happened to be the baby brother of the most ruthless drug lord in the city, with connections all over the world, so whoever it was that’d fucked with him could pretty much kiss their ass goodbye.

A man Cox had known for years had raised both boys. He’d been at the center of an investigation a while back, involving a missing girl from their neighborhood. Christ, it was no surprise that Julius would grow up prostituting them. The shit his father had been into, it was a wonder he didn’t eat them afterward.

Julius had gone missing after the shakedown at the Pantheon, and Cox had a pretty good idea that another murder was about happen. Big brother, Brandon, had threatened to have every cock-sucking gangbanger in the state track down the bastard who’d kidnapped him—just what the city needed in the thick of a serial-killing spree.

At a knock at the door, Cox scrambled to deposit the file in the drawer beside him. “Yeah!”

Burke peeked in. “Corley got a tip. Found Julius.”

“Corley? Where the fuck did Corley get a tip?”

“He’s connected to all the homeless bastards. Apparently, one of them was drunk, going on about a dead dude he found in the sub-basement of the old train station. He’d taken some kids from the suburbs urban exploring for cash. Found the poor bastard.”

“Poor bastard?” Cox crossed his arms. “I take it he’s not among the living anymore?”

“No. I’m on my way to check it out.”

Pushing up from the desk, Cox slid the drawer beside him the rest of the way closed. “I’m coming along on this one.”

“Sure, Chief? I’ll get ya the report.”

“No, I want to be personally involved in these cases.” His thinning hair slid between his fingers, as Cox rubbed the top of his head. “The city is going nuts over these murders—I don’t need to be the dipshit reading about it, like everyone else.”

***

A growl rumbled in Cox’s throat, when they arrived in the sub-basement below the old Michigan Train Station, to where the tip on Julius had led. Forensics, the District Attorney, Deputy DA, the coroner and his assistant, FBI agents, including Jim Riley, and Corley had already arrived. The flurry of bodies danced around the bloodied remains of Julius Malone, who’d been propped on a chair in the center of the room. The pungent scent of piss and rotting flesh overpowered the mold and stagnant air of the aging building.

No doubt, Corley had been the one who’d gotten in touch with Riley, and anger simmered in Cox’s bones, as the two of them chatted with a forensics specialist scouring the crime scene that’d been lit like a goddamn football stadium.

“Looks like a fuckin’ party in here.” Water sloshed beneath Cox’s boots as he made his way across the room.

“Chief Cox. Just found another number.” Riley nabbed a plastic baggie sitting beside a forensics duffel, on what looked like a card table. “This one’s printed on the back of a napkin for a bar on the west side. Has some apartments up top. Gonna need a search warrant.”

Cox eyed the napkin through the plastic. On it, blood red letters in bold font read Devil’s Pointe Bar and Grille, and he inwardly groaned. Jesus Christ. Two Polish brothers, who made the mafia look like a bunch of saints, owned the place. A search warrant wasn’t going to be enough. Cox would need a goddamn Black Ops team to deal with Bojanskis.

“Looks like we’ve got ten-thirty. Might be an apartment number,” Riley said.

“Or a date.”

“I’m sorry?”

“October thirtieth. Devil’s Night,” Cox clarified.

Setting the bag of evidence back atop of the table, Riley nodded. “Ah, right. Never thought of that.”

Cox stroked his chin, and glanced back to Burke and Corley, who stood off to the side, while the forensics investigator pulled a purple, fleshy-looking object from the water. With a crimped lip, Cox turned to Riley and lowered his voice, “I need to run something by you. Wanna take a walk?”

***