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Authors: Michelle Clay

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BOOK: Bitter Black Kiss
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Molly scowled at her. “Let’s go!”

She put the car into reverse and pulled out of the lot. There was a grocery store down the street with an island of payphones out front. She would call the police, but she had to do it anonymously. She couldn’t afford to have her name associated with the Lycan virus or werewolves.

Not again.

Chapter Three

 

Brody swung his legs up and rested his sneakers on the steel table. “What's this about, Vasquez? You know I didn’t do anything.”

The detective peered at him over the top of a dog-eared folder. She tapped her bottom lip with the tip of a pen. “I don’t know that for sure. You got popped for breaking and entering a few months back, didn’t you?"

"That was a mistake. Come on, Vasquez. Can’t you give your former partner the benefit of the doubt?"

A twinkle lit her brown eyes. “The key word there is 
former
. You got fired, remember?”

“Yeah, because some asshole screwed me over and framed my ass.” He brushed the hair out of his eyes.

“They just didn’t know what to think of your methods. Plus your almost obsessive pursuit of the city’s most influential man didn’t help.”

“I would’ve had proof if they’d just given me more time. I—”

Vasquez held up a hand. “He’s squeaky clean. End of discussion.”

“What about the drop off location I gave you? There was supposed to be a shipment last night.”

She regarded him for a moment, her expression somewhere between pity and annoyance. “It was clean. You’d better play it low key for a while, Brody. The Chief isn’t going to be so forgiving next time you find yourself in a tight spot.”

She had to be wrong. The shipment had arrived right on time. He was there, observing from the shadows. Only, the bust hadn’t gone down as he’d imagined. In fact, it hadn't gone down at all.

“It was imported booze.” Vasquez’s dark eyes shifted toward him. Her expression was unreadable.

“You checked every box?”

She watched him for a reaction. “I’ve got to tell you, Brody, the department is getting tired of these wild theories. Chief wasn’t happy about sending extra men out to the pier in the first place. Then when nothing illegal turned up, he was pissed. The department’s tired of looking like a bunch of dumbasses.”

He motioned for the folder. “Let me see what you guys have.”

“You know I can’t do that.” Vasquez’s laugh grated his nerves. “Besides, this isn’t about him.”

Brody cut his gaze around to her. “Then it’s about me.”

“Maybe. Got a guilty conscience?”

He glanced at the clock on the wall and grimaced. “Can we wrap this up? I have to be somewhere in thirty.”

“Always want to get right to the point, don’t you? You knew Hank Alvarez, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. He worked off Front Street and dealt a little of everything.”

“You know he’s dead?”

Brody nodded. “His mother called around four this morning. Right after you guys asked her to identify the body. I’d just gone to bed.”

Vasquez made a face. “Be glad you missed it. It wasn’t pretty.”

“Any ideas on who shot his face off?"

“We thought you might be able to help.” She glanced up at him, her expression neutral.

Brody glanced at the mirrored wall. Most people wouldn’t have heard the click of the door or the subtle rustle of fabric in the other room, but he did. “What? The department expects me to do their work for them? Am I going to be compensated for my time?”

Vasquez held up a hand to bring a halt to the conversation. “Let’s not worry about compensation for now. Getting back to Alvarez though, the guy was paranoid, wasn’t he? He had security cameras all over the property. The funny thing about those cameras, they show you parked outside the gate. We also got you walking up to the house.”

Her voice was so quiet that most people would have leaned closer to hear. “The most fascinating part? The camera never saw 
you
 come out, but a strange-looking dog left through the back gate.”

“So?”

“Alvarez didn’t own a dog.”

He scowled, but managed to keep a sense of calm. “Okay, I went to see him. I had a word or two with him. But he was fine when I left. And for the record, I went out the same way I came in — through the front door.”

“We found a puddle of gunk inside the kitchen. Does that mean anything to you?”

The fine hairs on Brody’s neck stood on end. Hank was not infected nor did he use his own product. However, the gelatinous residue Vasquez just described meant there had been a Lycan on the scene. Other than himself, that is.

“Maybe he wasn't a good housekeeper."

His comment didn't even bring a smile. Vasquez remained on track. “What did the two of you discuss? Was it the kind of conversation that would make him eat a bullet?”

“Get serious, Vasquez.”

She slammed her palm onto the table. The sound reverberated throughout the room. “His brains were splattered all over the cabinets, Brody. We can’t locate the gun. You are the last person to see him alive. That’s about as serious as it gets.”

He leaned forward and Vasquez did the same. Their faces were only inches apart. “Do you want to run ballistics on my gun? Do you need to check for residue on my clothes?"

Vasquez sat back and regarded him for a moment. He didn’t hold the subject of interrogation against her. She was just doing her job. He also knew her every move was being scrutinized due to his involvement.

“Did he give you the supplier?”

“Yes.”

“You must have had to work on him a while to get him to talk.” She watched him carefully, gauging the expression on his face.

Brody didn’t agree or disagree. “It didn’t take much to convince him.”

“Are you sure you didn’t hear what you wanted?”

“Are we done yet?”

“A girl named Amy Dahl was reported missing a few nights ago.” Vasquez watched for a reaction. He gave her none. “We sent a uniform over to her apartment and it looked like a war zone.”

Brody stiffened. They knew he’d been in contact with the girl. A sense of unease soured his good mood. His ex-partner had a knack for drawing things out to allow for maximum drama. It was still unclear if she’d been one of the people who had rallied for his dismissal three years ago. He didn’t like to think this intelligent woman, this good cop, had done that. The truth was the whole ordeal had left him shaken and unable to trust.

Vasquez tossed the folder aside. “I know you’ll take a personal interest in this. It looks like there was a struggle in her apartment. We found a crushed hypodermic in the bathroom.”

He already knew the answer, but played dumb. “BST?”

She glanced at the closed folder. “You got it. There was a lot of blood and gunk on this scene too. A ton of fingerprints to sort through. And we found some interesting ones in the bedroom."

It was past time to fess up. He swung his legs down and sat up. “You mean in addition to mine? Her parents hired me to find her.”

That got Vasquez’s attention. She reached for the pen and folder. She scribbled notes as he gave her details. “So if her parents paid you to find her, why were you in the bedroom?”

“Not what you’re insinuating. She wrote to them, told them she was in a lot of trouble.” Brody ground the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I found her a few weeks ago. She was in some real danger, Vasquez. I was trying to help her sort it out.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“The kind that probably got her killed.” Brody ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. “Sean Stone used her as a fuck puppet. He got her hooked on BST then dumped her. As payback, she and Alvarez tried to blackmail him.”

“Alvarez? How are they connected?” Vasquez didn’t ask how he got Amy to confess.

“She worked over at The Wolf’s Den, Stone’s strip joint.” He wished he could go back and change things. “It was just one of the titty bars Alvarez frequented. He met her there.”

“And the blackmail?”

“Amy was in bad withdrawals when Stone dumped her. Alvarez just happened to be the right guy at the right time. They hooked up and found that they both had a connection to Stone. Alvarez gets BST from Stone’s people then distributes it. They thought they could skip the middle man, make a lot of money. Only, Stone wasn’t so easy to push around.”

Vasquez pursed her lips. “That’s a lot of speculation. You’d better be damned sure.”

“You want to hear what she told me or not?” He narrowed his eyes, daring her to say more. “When the attempt to blackmail Stone fell through, Alvarez tried to distance himself from it. He fingered her as the brains of the whole scheme.”

Vasquez wrote at a furious pace. “Did he know she fingered him as her dealer? Maybe he confronted her, and it got ugly.”

“I have no idea. Can’t ask them since he’s dead, and she’s missing.” He leaned back in the chair. “I went to her apartment, but she was gone. I managed to follow her trail a ways, but lost it near Old Town.”

Vasquez regarded him a moment. “Did Alvarez have the L-virus?”

Brody scrubbed a hand across his chin. “We’ve already gone over this.”

“The anonymous caller claimed someone else was in Amy’s apartment. The caller indicated that they were in wolf form. We found a clump of hair at the top of the stairs, and it appears to be from an animal.”

“Anything else?” Brody pushed the chair away from the metal table.

“I assume you went to Alvarez for his side of things?” Vasquez tapped the pen against the folder. “Did he give you the wrong information, Brody? Is that why you beat him to a pulp?"

“Don’t be stupid.” He glared at the two-way glass. Someone behind it cleared their throat. “I could share my suspicions, but we both know the department will look the other way. Just like always.”

Vasquez gripped his sleeve and hauled him to his feet. “That’s the kind of talk that got you canned. We’re done here. I’ll walk you out.”

On the street, the fading sunshine did not cheer him. Not even the roller-skating blonde in the red hot pants could raise his spirits. They moved down the block toward the parking garage. “That’s not why I got fired and you know it. At least, it’s not the only reason.”

“It’s all in the past.” A fat uniformed officer with a mustache waddled past. He held a drink tray and a greasy, rolled up bag from the burger stand across the street. Once he had passed, she said, “Just let it go.”

Brody scowled at their reflection in the shop windows. His lanky reflection looked ragged around the edges. He traded his dress clothes in favor of a faded t-shirt and jeans. He did it out of comfort, but also in an effort to fit in, to blend with the crowd. It tended to make the job go a lot smoother if you didn’t stand out.

Vasquez was his complete opposite. She was all business in her conservative suit and sensible shoes. Her skin was darker than his, her Hispanic blood-heritage there for all to see. His blood-heritage hid just underneath the surface, yet it was always waiting for him to set it loose.

Let it go,
Vasquez had said. She had no idea how impossible or how dangerous her request really was.

He noticed that she led him to the adjoining shopping center’s parking lot.

“Why are you parked out here?”

She grinned and clapped him on the back. “When they said they were going to question you, I beat it over there so I could do it myself. They think you had something to do with Amy’s trashed apartment.”

“Me?” Indignation sputtered through him. “Over a few misplaced fingerprints?”

Vasquez’s face sobered, and she looked away. “If you say you didn’t do it, I believe you. That’s why I hoofed it over. I had to make sure they didn’t haul you in on some bogus bullshit.”

“So you decided just to question me on a bunch of circumstantial bullshit?”

“In all fairness, you did knock Alvarez around. Who’s to say you didn’t do the same to Amy? It’s easy for the situation to get out of hand once you’re in a particular frame of mind.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. “I’m not saying you did. We just had to establish where you stand, okay? Don’t be surprised if they want to talk to you again. I may not get to sit in next time. They say I'm biased."

“Thanks a lot.” They moved past a row of empty cars. “So do you have any leads in regards to Amy’s whereabouts?”

“No, she’s still missing.” Vasquez unhooked her arm from his. The purse she dug through was gigantic. She found her keys then glanced up at him and smiled. “So, if you learn anything, I’d appreciate it if you’d share. It sure seems like someone is following your every move, so be sure to cover your ass.”

BOOK: Bitter Black Kiss
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