The edge of the car’s bumper caught the back of his left leg as he fought to escape death. He slammed to the pavement. Pain shot through him. He gritted his teeth and clawed his way into the gutter.
The brake lights of the car glowed red, tires smoked, squealing as the driver tried to take the turn too fast. He overshot and crashed into a utility pole.
Sparks flew, dropped and hissed to the ground. The blare of the horn split the early-morning air.
Brian closed his eyes. It was over. Then, like a vivid dream, she was next to him. Brushing her hand over his cheek, soothing the agonizing pain that invaded his body and took his mind. He focused on her touch. Latched onto it like a pain pill and pulled himself onto the curb.
“He tried to kill you, Brian.” She motioned to the crushed car, the outline of the driver slumped over the wheel shown under the streetlight.
“I won’t die that easy, Kendall, but it looks like he’s not going anywhere. We’ve got him and his partner. You’re going to get your life back.” He looked into her face and witnessed a brief look of disappointment. The emotion portrayed on her face lodged in his heart like a knife. She didn’t need him anymore.
Kendall climbed inside the car and Brian slid in next to her. It was a miracle he’d escaped serious injury. The EMTs on scene had wrapped his bruised and battered leg and released him with an order to go to the ER, ASAP. The driver of the car was on his way to the hospital and then to a jail cell.
Pumping her bravado, she tried to work up her courage. Brian had been able to play to Seth’s ego when he thought they were just looking for some action. Giving up a chopper was going to be a different story. These guys were tight and they rarely ratted each other out.
“Seth is going to stonewall you.”
“How do you figure?” He fired up the engine and pulled away from the curb.
“You’re going to ask him for information he’ll guard with his life. There’s a code of silence you can’t crack.”
“I respect that, Kendall, but I’m going to use whatever means I have to.”
A fit of nerves jumped along her spine. “Just be careful. If you put him in a corner he’ll fight.”
“Thanks.” He touched her hand.
“There’s more.” Kendall lumped her courage. “Andrew located the shop where Durant got the seats. His trade-ins were slashed up and the springs were pinching the corners of some twenty-dollar bills. The seats were full of money. You have your evidence.”
He squeezed her hand, but it did little to stem her fear.
“I’ll talk to Schneider. I’ll bare my soul. We’ll get you a deal.”
She looked at him as he focused on the road. Could he hold the FBI back?
They drove to Seth’s shop in silence and whipped into the parking lot. Kendall spotted Seth in the corner at his workbench, his back to them. Caution hitched to her thoughts as Brian jumped out of the car and limped toward him. Not even an injury could dampen his zeal.
Seth whirled around. “Wait a damn minute, you can’t come in here. Who do you--”
“Wanna bet? This badge says I can.” Brian flashed his shield.
The color drained from Seth’s face. “You’re a cop?” He glared at Kendall. “You stupid bitch! You brought the heat down?”
“Seth! Shut up and listen.” She leveled her best wise-up look on him. “We need information about a chop job.”
“Go to hell.” He spat the words, but his eyes went large when Brian grabbed his shirt and shoved him backwards.
“Meet you there, but not until you tell us what we want to know. There was a questionable takedown on a Porsche 944. Rumor is, you know about it.”
Seth’s eyes glazed over with determination. Kendall remembered his stubborn tendencies. How were they going to get him to roll over?
She moved in on the two men. “Come on, Seth. It’s not like you don’t know. You’ve got contacts all over this town. I know how good you are, they’ll never know it came from you. Besides, it’s already done. We’d just be on a treasure hunt. In need of a few parts.”
Brian shot her a why-didn’t-you-consult-me look and glared at Seth. “That’s right, I’ll stay right here.”
“Arrest me, dude. I’m not saying a word. I want my lawyer.”
“You bastard.” Brian shoved him again.
Seth turned, grabbed a lug wrench from the counter and lunged at Brian. “You’re going to be sorry!”
Kendall hustled out of the way as the two men grunted and tussled like a couple of bulls, but her heart stopped when she saw Seth reach for Brian’s waist. “Your gun!”
He grabbed Seth’s hand, let an uppercut fly and caught him in the face. He stumbled back and dropped the wrench.
“Stop it! Both of you!” She put herself between them. “Seth. Jake and I…we have a son.”
Surprise replaced anger on Seth’s face as he dabbed at his bloody nose with his shirt sleeve.
“Someone wants us dead. If it weren’t for Officer Littrell, I wouldn’t be here.”
“I’m an uncle? Jake’s a father…why didn’t you tell me, Kendall? Why did you just disappear, run away?”
She looked into his face and saw real questions. A man struggling to understand. “For Kaden. I didn’t want this life for him.” She raised her hands, palms up. “You think I wanted to lie awake at night wondering if he’d come home? Was he sitting in jail or lying in the morgue? I ran way from this, and my family, because I want better. I deserve better.” She felt like a balloon with its air let out. Fishing in her backpack, she pulled out her wallet and opened it to a picture of Kaden. “Do you want to see him? He looks like Jake, don’t you think?”
Seth took the wallet and stared at the picture for a long time. “My buddy over in Kenner called a few weeks back. He found a ‘97 Porsche 944 in his lot with a note on the steering wheel, telling him to take it down immediately. There was twenty grand in the glove box.”
He handed the wallet back to her and turned to his bench, bracing his hands on the countertop. “You might get a souvenir. I’ll call him and tell him I’m sending over a couple of shoppers. He’s on the corner of Cypress and Cranston. Hank’s Garage.”
Kendall’s heart leaped into her throat. “Thank you.”
Brian took her hand, just as Seth turned around.
“Kendall?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you bring him around sometime?”
“I will.” She turned away and left the garage with Brian.
The morning air was already gathering humidity; it pressed down on her with a vengeance, but she felt charged up. Exposing secrets long hidden felt good. She recounted the times she’d sworn Jake to secrecy about Kaden. Her family, too, had been left out, all so she could protect her son and pretend her past didn’t exist.
“That was a crazy scene back there. I’ve never watched a man be disarmed by a picture before.”
She jerked him to a stop next to the car. “Seth is Kaden’s uncle and he has a right to get to know him. So does my family. I may not like what they did for a living, but they’re still my family.” She chewed her words, finding they had substance but not much flavor. She’d have to rethink her decision to disappear and try to come to terms with it.
“I’ve seen you disarmed by a snapshot.” She fixed her gaze on him. “When you look at those photos on your mantel, you’re moved. They were your family, your life. You can’t change that, any more than you can change what happened to them. You can only deal with it. I’m no different. I pretended my family was dead, but they’re not. I have to make peace…somehow.”
“Come on, Kendall. I didn’t mean to stir the pot.” Brian took her shoulders and she saw understanding in his eyes. “I haven’t been able to find a damn thing on the McKinleys.”
“Let’s go shopping.”
Brian had never heard of Hank’s Garage, but then he only had knowledge on a handful of choppers. They could pack up in a matter of hours and disappear into the New Orleans night without a trace. It paralleled a ghost hunt.
“About last night,” he started the car and pulled way from the curb, “things were pretty heated…I like to take my time, but I…you were so…I needed…”
She touched his thigh and a jolt of pleasure equal to the memory hissed through his body. “Nothing like a little skin-to-skin contact to calm your frustration.” She rubbed the spot just above his knee and sent his control into outer space.
“Damn, woman…I’m trying to drive.” Pushing his desire back, he focused on the road. “What do you think our chances are of finding the remains of the car?”
“Fair to good. Everything that’s worth anything gets saved. The motor parts are probably gone, those get snapped up right away. Things like headlights, grillwork, windows and hardware stay around longer. We’ve got a chance.”
He touched her hand and drew on the energy that the contact gave him. “Thanks in advance.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I just hope we can find the grill. Our guy must have touched it when he took it down from the rafters. With any luck his prints will be all over it.”
“What if he wore gloves?”
“You always ask the hard questions, don’t you, Kendall?” He squeezed her hand again and released it. “I’ll still be closer than I was five years ago.”
“Who else knows about the grillwork you found in the storm drain?”
“Nobody. Legally, I should have turned it over as evidence, but I couldn’t let it go. Lockup is good, but evidence gets miscataloged and lost. I couldn’t risk it.”
“I would have done the same thing. So, it’s okay if I brought it along?”
He looked at the scrap of metal she held out like an offering and his throat tightened. “It’s been on the mantel too long.”
“Change, Brian. Change is good. It’s getting there that turns you inside out.”
He shot her a smile and squeezed the steering wheel. He had changed since she’d stolen into his life and robbed him of his heart.
They whizzed past the outskirts of Kenner and took exit ten. Brian turned down Cypress Street and crept past Hank’s Garage, scoping out the location. He pulled into a parking space half a block away and killed the engine.
“I don’t suppose I can convince you to stay in the unit, listen to the radio, do your nails?” He wanted her in the car, out of the way of danger.
“Not a chance.”
“I didn’t think so. Here’s the deal.” He climbed out of the car and moved toward the garage with Kendall next to him. “Let me do the talking. This guy could be dangerous. If your buddy Seth called ahead, we’re in clean, if not…”
Kendall’s stomach fisted. “I’m sure he called. He knows the kind of trouble I’m in. I could always trust his word.” She prayed they didn’t walk into a trap. Most choppers were seedy, but they weren’t killers, just mechanics who’d found another way to put welders to work for fun and profit. She’d been around the type her whole life.
“Okay, babe, time to suck up to your daddy.”
She put her arm around his waist and enjoyed the close contact. “Just a couple of starstruck lovers looking to buy hot Porsche parts. How romantic.”
“It could be.” Brian brushed her cheek with his fingers. The caress flashed her mind back to last night and a shiver of delight moved through her.
“Time to get serious.” He opened the shop door and they walked inside.
The odor of oil and tires was heavy. A haze of smoke hung in the air a foot or so from the ceiling. It was how she remembered it from the old days, walking into Seth’s shop after a job. A night of doing what takedown artists do best.
“Hey.” A man in grey coveralls stepped out from behind a shiny blue Dodge pick-up. “You Seth’s friends?”
“Yep.”
“He put the word in for you. Come out back. I’ve got a hell of an assortment. Anything in particular you’re after?”
“I’d like to build up a 1997 Porsche 944 for my girlfriend.” He grinned down at her. “The one I’ve got is minus its grill.”
“All right.”
They followed him out of the rear door to the junkyard. “All my Porsche stuff is on this fence wall. Help yourself.”
“Thanks, man. Do you see anything that catches your eye, baby?”
Kendall broke away from him. “I don’t know.” She meandered along, scanning the neat stacks of stolen merchandise. Choppers could be overprotective of their parts and she didn’t want to raise Hank’s suspicions by diving in uncontrollably. She let her gaze slip over the grills, trying to look disinterested, but one leaning against the wall caught her attention and quickened her pulse. “What about this?” She picked it up and held it out in front of her. “It’s missing a little piece,” she put her finger through the hole and wiggled it at Brian. “But that’s okay, it gives it character. What do you think?”
“It could work. Are you sure there isn’t a better one?”
She smiled at him. “My money, or should I say, your money is on this one. Pay the man!”
“How much?” Brian pulled out his wallet.
“Hundred bucks?”
“Sold.” He fished the money out of his wallet and handed it over. “Good doing business with you.”
“Likewise. If you need anything else, just let me know.”
“I’ve got a couple of buddies putting together a ‘97...mind if I send them your way?”
“Hell, no. I need the business.”
“I’ll call them in the morning. They’ll be over here in a flash.” He gave her a “let’s go” nod and they left the garage. Kendall interlocked her finger with his as they walked toward the car.
“I can’t believe I just left there and didn’t try to stop him from cutting up that truck. You’ve corrupted me, Kendall.”
“Bull. You’ve got nothing but good in your bones, Brian. Besides, you don’t know he’s going to chop it. He’s got a chest full of tools. Maybe he’s wrenching on it.”
“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England.”
“Let it go. We got what we came for.”
He opened the trunk; she laid the grill inside, dusted off her hands and pulled the metal out of her pocket. “You need to do it?” She handed it to Brian, watching tension play along his jaw. His eyes were bright with excitement.
Brian’s hand shook as he put the piece into place, rejoining the inanimate objects that had torn his world apart. “I can’t believe it. All these years I kept this hunk of metal. I knew it would fit somewhere, but I never guessed it would lead me to you.” He kissed her, lost in the moment. Closure was so close, he could touch it. With Kendall in his life there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do.
“Let’s get this to the lab. If the driver touched it, I’m going to know.” He pulled his cell phone and keyed in Tank McCray’s number.
“Tank? Littrell here. I need you and Ricky to go on a scavenger hunt. There’s a chop shop at Cypress and Cranston. Dude’s name is Hank. I put the word in for you. I want every scrap piece you can find for a ‘97 Porsche 944. Anything that might give us a print or paint flakes. Get it to the lab, have Derrick Callahan put a rush tag on it. I want answers by this afternoon. Play it cool. My informant can’t take any heat on this. Thanks.” He ended the conversation and turned toward Kendall.
“Have time for brunch with a really hungry man?”
“Of course.”
Brian fired up the car engine. Excitement gnawed his nerves and knotted in his gut. They had the car, all they needed was the driver. There had to be a fingerprint somewhere on the scrap. He cast a glance toward Kendall. “I know what you did back at Seth’s was hard.” He looked back at the road.
“It was worth it. I’ve been running away for a long time, but I think I’ve finally found my way back.”
“Would that be the truth, Kendall? Because it’s always gotten me through.”
“The truth feels good.”
He knew what felt good and she was sitting next to him. His appetite surfaced, but it wasn’t going to be satisfied with food.
Littrell was up to something. He brought the spotting scope down. His car was parked where it had been all night, but didn’t they have to eat? He moved around the small room, puffing on his cigar. Was it possible he’d found the bug?
Brian wasn’t that smart; he could think circles around the bastard and tie him in knots.
No, they were just late risers. Sleeping upright in a chair was hell on the back. He moved to the window again and focused the scope on the front of the police station. Nothing.
He glanced at his watch. Two o’clock. They had to come out sometime. Raising the scope again, he scanned the people on the sidewalk.
Wait. He pulled his attention back to a couple of guys walking toward the front entrance. They both wore ball caps and dark glasses. One hung slightly back. He was shorter, more feminine.
He rolled the focus to full power, zooming in on the guy’s shoes. Black running shoes, the kind Kendall wore.
Anger ignited inside of him. He focused on the lead man. There was no mistake. He watched the leisurely stroll he’d seen a hundred times.
Rage fired through him and burned the last threads of his sanity. It was time. Time to bring Kendall into his world. Time to crush her in front of Brian’s eyes. He’d use the hands-on approach. It would be more satisfying than a dark street and a stolen car.
Brian slid his chair close to Schneider’s desk and set his coffee cup down. “What did you say?”
“Your witness, where is she?”
“In my office catching up on her e-mail.” Brian didn’t like the look on Schneider’s face, the tension around his jaw line, or the lack of eye contact. He wasn’t his jovial self.
“Why?”
“Just checking. I want to commend you on the heads-up regarding Thomas Romaro aka Alan Delancy. His folks were able to identify him with the autopsy photos.”
“I’m glad someone got some closure. Anything out of the driver of the black Honda?”
“He admitted to the break-in at Kendall’s house and trying to run you down. He’s facing attempted murder charges, he’s made a deal with the D.A., said Otis told him he was blackmailing David Copeland. Any idea with what?”
“A Porsche 944 for starters. The same car used in the hit-and-run that killed Nat and Megan.” Brian’s emotions twisted.
“Copeland was the driver. Are you sure?”
“Looks that way.”
“We know Copeland’s working both ends of the money-laundering scam, distribution of the cars and acquisition.” Schneider flipped open a file and scooped up a sheet of paper. “Hot off the fax this morning.” He handed it to Brian. “My buddy at the bureau sent it. Looks like we’ve got our crime.”
Brian looked over the information. “That’s slick.” He leaned back in his chair, considering the operation. He didn’t like the way Ben eyed him then looked away. “What is it? Did I miss something?”
“Any chance Ms. McKinley knew what she was doing? Copeland was her boss, too, and he’s playing both ends.”
“No, and just because her name is McKinley doesn’t mean she’s guilty by association.”
“You’ve changed your tune.”
“I know it for a fact. She’s clean.”
“We’re not talking pocket change. The FBI’s investigation has uncovered ten-million reasons for her to get involved.”
“Ten million? In the cars Kendall repossessed?” Brian thought of the slashed seats in the Beamer. Otis had double-crossed Copeland by discovering the money and tried to exchange it for the Porsche.
“The FBI had been monitoring an outfit called Abacus Motors for the last couple of months. They’re on the verge of shutting the operation down and rounding up the suspects, but before you chase out of here, Brian, I have something to tell you.”
“Let’s have it.”
“This came in from the lab an hour ago. Tank and Ricky got your car parts and trashed the department’s budget.”
“The price of crime fighting?” He felt the undercurrent in the room turn serious.
“That’s not the half of it.” Ben’s demeanor softened and he looked Brian straight in the eyes. “Callahan pulled prints off the driver’s side window and the rearview mirror. Good prints. We got some paint flakes, too, and made a match with the flakes recovered from the…bodies.”
His heart rate increased and he tried to force the mental images of that night into oblivion.
“We ran them through AFIS, nothing. I took a chance and pushed them in-house. We got a match.”
He leaned toward Schneider. A charge built in the air around them.
“The match is sitting upstairs in your office. The prints belong to Kendall McKinley and this preliminary report confirms it.” He shoved a file toward Brian.
Brian’s heart slammed into his ribs and died on the jagged tips. The room fell like a runaway elevator, plunging into hell. He stood up and raked his hands over his head. It couldn’t be true. “Are you sure?”
“I wish I wasn’t, for your sake, but evidence doesn’t lie. The old DMV records don’t leave any doubt. She owned a 1997 Porsche 944. The paint color is a match. We’ve got enough to put her away.”
“You want me to arrest her?” The idea made him sick, put a bomb in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m pulling you off this case.”
“Dammit, Ben. You can’t jerk this.”
“It’s a stretch, Littrell. You quit homicide, you’re working auto theft. You’ve got an emotional choke hold on this case. Draw some equal signs for me.”
“I can’t. Not yet.” He stood up, his insides churned the emotions he’d been feeling toward Kendall, but only one floated to the surface. Only one stayed where he could grab it, and he put it on like a life preserver. “What about Copeland? He’s our guy. Otis was blackmailing him with the car.”
“Maybe Copeland was taking care of it for Kendall.”
“No way.” Brian’s guts twisted.
“Phone records led us to an address on Copeland. The warrant is ten minutes out. Do you want in on this?”
“Yes.” He thought of Kendall upstairs in his office. She was safe. Her stalkers were behind bars, and he wanted a piece of Copeland with a vengeance. “What’s his location?”
“Bayou Gauche.”
A blade of caution sliced up Brian’s spine.
The afternoon heat in Bayou Gauche was oppressive. It settled on Brian’s skin like a wet blanket as they closed in on Copeland’s house. It was a lot of real estate, but the location gave Brian the creeps. He guessed it had been purchased with laundered money and the locality was intended to keep people away. There were no lights on, but then he hadn’t expected there would be.
“New Orleans Police, open the door!” The entry team kicked it in and Brian followed them inside, struck by the pristine condition of the house. It didn’t look lived-in. A scent of cigar smoke hung in the air and Brian realized its importance. Copeland had been there that night in the swamp, watching Kendall.
One by one they swept the rooms. Each empty space weighted his heart. They had to arrest Copeland. He needed to dispel any link between Kendall, Copeland and the Porsche.
“In here,” an officer yelled.
Brian moved down the hallway in the direction of his voice.
“You’ve got to see this.”
Stepping around him, Brian sucked in a breath. The walls of the room were plastered with pictures. Pictures of Natalie and Kendall, Kaden and Megan, interspersed with newspaper articles about the hit-and-run. His brain tried to take in the sheer number and scope, but he couldn’t. He tried to connect Copeland to the presence of the people in his life. A man he didn’t know, sure seemed to know them.
Schneider let out a low whistle. “Dark obsession, I’d say. This guy is one sick puppy.”
Brian looked at the pictures closely. The backgrounds and surroundings. Parks, the mall. “Public places, all of them.” His gaze settled on a shot of Natalie and the blood stopped in his veins.
Their bedroom?
She was lying on the bed. He recognized the burgundy spread beneath her. Her smile was seductive, inviting.
He turned away, sickened by reality. He hadn’t taken the picture. “This doesn’t make any sense, Ben. If Nat had known Copeland, I’d have seen it.”
“He sure seems to know Kendall.”
Brian stared at the pair of lacy panties Ben held on the end of a pen. The panties Kendall had described as missing from her house. “Trophy?”
“I’d say so.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around the room. A snapshot of Kendall was in his line of sight and he put his focus on her. Her smiling eyes and mouth, her values teetering somewhere between right and wrong, mostly right. He swallowed and turned to Schneider. “Something about this is too easy. Look at these pictures. This guy’s been at this for a long time. There’s a personal element.”
Brian turned around the room, his thoughts swimming in confusion. “Let’s search the place. Find some verification on Copeland’s identity.” Brian followed Ben into the front of the house, where a gloved officer was already pulling paperwork out of a desk drawer. He paused and turned around.
“Check this out.” The officer laid a paper on the desktop. Time stopped as Brian stared at the name on the unpaid power bill. The letters reached out and stole the air from his lungs.
“I’ll be damned,” Ben whispered next to him.
“Kendall!” Before her name left his lips he burst out the front door, numb with reality.
David Copeland didn’t exist, but Liam Byer did.
