Ryker (Hope City Book 5) Read online

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, I forgot to tell you I bought tickets for us at the Capital Sunday night. They're showing Chaos on the Crossroads, you said you wanted to see it.”

  “Oh. That's wonderful. Okay.” She fisted her hands to keep from shaking.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I'm fine. Just busy. We are down a waiter and I get to bus tables this afternoon.” She cleared her throat. “I'd love to go to the Capital. I'll buy the popcorn.”

  “Nope, my date, the popcorn is on me. Hang on a second.”

  Brianna heard Brody's voice in the background telling Ryker they were ready to brief. “All right, give me five minutes. Have everyone involved in conference room one and make sure Lieutenant Theron is there, too.”

  “Sounds like you're busy, too.” Brie drew another breath in and let it out slowly. The shakes had abated some.

  “Unbelievably busy.”

  “A continuing case?” She unclenched her hand and sat the shoes down on the floor, slipping off her boots.

  “Yeah. Peña. Again.”

  “That means it will involve Fenton. I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  There was a long, tired sigh. “Come to my house tonight? Things are better with you in my arms. I forget the darkness of my job when you're with me.”

  She closed her eyes. He dealt with so much. She could remember her father coming home, drained and just standing, holding her mom. What these men and women dealt with daily would wreck lesser people. She smiled as she spoke, “I'll be there. I like to snuggle in your arms. I'll bring dinner and wine and we'll curl up in your corner on the couch.”

  “Good. That thought will keep me sane until tonight.”

  “Please be careful. I'll see you tonight.” She hung up and closed her eyes. God, the thought of him holding her made her feel safe. She shook her head. When had she become that woman? The one that needed a man to protect her? She'd never let a man take care of her, but Ryker was different. He was strong but let her be her own woman. They were on equal footing, both successful and both career-minded. They just fit together. She wasn't joking when she told her mother it terrified her the bubble would burst.

  Those two assholes in the alley had really spooked her. Maybe that was why she was thinking about how safe she felt with Ryker. She ran her hands through her hair. Her brothers would have a field day with her getting a fright from two lowlifes. Her brothers’ alpha male, 'me have club, me protect' mentality got old quickly. She'd taken self-defense classes and could protect herself. She even had a concealed carry permit. At her father's insistence, she’d learned how to handle, care for, and shoot a weapon. He’d wanted her to have protection when dropping off night deposits after the restaurant closed. Not that she routinely carried her gun, but she could if she ever felt the need. A chill went down her spine at the thought of that man's sneer. Perhaps she'd take a half-hour this afternoon and pop home, grab some clean clothes for tomorrow, and take her gun from the lockbox. If she had time.

  Lunch service was always insane. The constant influx of new diners kept her running, and she once again learned to appreciate what her people did daily. “Boss, Councilman Davis is at table fourteen, he's almost done eating. I'm sorry I forgot to tell you when he came in.” Lola darted back to the hostess stand. Brie finished bussing two tables before she stashed her bin and table cleaner. A quick hand wash and she was threading her way through the seating area.

  “Councilman. Nice of you to join us today.” She stood beside his table and smiled at him.

  “Short on help today, Ms. King?”

  “One of my waiters is out today. Childcare issues. May I?” She pointed to the vacant chair across from him.

  “The apron is a pleasant touch.” He nodded to the chair.

  She glanced down and shrugged. It wasn't dirty. She pulled the chair out and smiled. “Have you heard of anything about the ordinance change?”

  The man took his time buttering a baguette. “Things like this take time, Ms. King. Greasing wheels and changing minds.”

  She blinked at him. “This ordinance change is for the good of the city.”

  He took a bite of his bread and settled back against his seat. After he finished what was in his mouth, he took a drink. She narrowed her eyes at him. The bastard was making her wait. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke slowly as if she was three years old, “Ms. King, I regret to inform you that not everyone is in favor of changing the ordinance. There are many who do not want the homeless population catered to as it could draw more vagrants to our city.”

  “What?” She couldn't believe what she just heard.

  “It is a simple truth. However, there are ways to make things go easier, to convince those who don't approve.” He shrugged and stared through the large front window.

  “What do I need to do to get this changed? I'm throwing away food every night. Food that could feed people. I'm not asking to open a casino.”

  Councilman Davis smiled; well, rather, he smirked. “No, I'm sure you'd have less difficulty with that.” He turned to face her. “Money talks.”

  She leaned in, “Are you asking me for money to push this through?”

  “That would be unethical.” He stared at her. “What I am telling you is that your ordinance is not on the docket for the next meeting. I don't think there are any other motions to discuss. Such a shame, but as I said, money talks.” He wiped his mouth and placed his cloth napkin down on the tablecloth. “Once again, lunch has been wonderful. Thank you.” He stood up, adjusted his cuffs and jacket, and walked out of the restaurant.

  “Hey, is he leaving?” Skip, one of her full-time servers, stood with a payment folder in his hand.

  “He is. Why?” She stood up and started stacking the man's plates.

  “He didn't pay.” Skip blinked at her and looked at the padded folder in his hand.

  She stood up and stared after the man. He stopped at the door and gave her a small salute before he walked out of the door. Well, son of a bitch. “His meal today is on the house.” Obviously. “Include your tip on the receipt.”

  “Are you sure?” Skip looked from the door to the folder.

  “You deserve payment for your time.” She grabbed the asshole's stack of dirty dishes and headed to the back of the establishment. What was she going to do now? Would he stop the ordinance change? They could feed hundreds of people a day. Thousands of meals throughout the year. She put the dishes down and headed to the front with a bin and her cleaning supplies. Thoughts raced through her mind until only one remained. How much money was the man talking about?

  Chapter 3

  Ryker watched his people filter from the conference room until only three remained. He leaned back in his chair and looked from Brody King to Terry Theron. “So, any updates from last night?”

  “I received a call from Captain Jones while you were on the phone earlier. He indicated that both McBride and his partner Miller returned from taking samples and going through the scene during the daylight hours. No doubt about it, they are calling it arson.” Terrence leaned forward, his elbows planted on the conference room table. The veins under his rich brown skin popped vividly against his muscles. The man had about zero percent body fat and was a dedicated lifter like Ryker. Terrence had won a couple of regional bodybuilding championships. The stacked guy was about the nicest man on the planet––unless you were a scumbag or a suspect, then he was hell on wheels. Ryker had known him in passing for years, and he’d always liked the guy. He was damn glad to have him on the team.

  “Figured as much.” Brody took a drink of his coffee.

  “Autopsies scheduled for tomorrow?” He grabbed his mug and swirled the dregs of his second cup of coffee. The oil on top warned him not to drink it, but fuck it, he needed a boost. He downed the sludge and grimaced. “Who the fuck made the coffee?”

  “I have no idea who made it, but it is nasty.” Brody yawned and launched his paper cup toward the wastebasket. “I called an
d verified the victims were on slate for examination tomorrow. Brock collected the heroin and logged it into evidence.” Brody yawned again. His entire body shook.

  He glanced at Terry. His lieutenant gave him a slight nod. “King, you and Patel get your ass out of here and grab some sleep. Did you drive in with your wife?”

  “Nah, we brought two cars. We usually do in case one of us gets stuck late, the other can pick up Gage.” Brody stood and stretched. “I think I’m too old for this shit, Boss.”

  Ryker rubbed his eyes. “That makes two of us.” He yawned at the same time as Brody.

  Terry chuckled. “Single men like me don’t have that problem. At least not on weeknights. Weekends, I’m wrecked.”

  Brody dropped his hands and frowned. “You got a woman, Cap?”

  Terry’s eyes widened when Ryker sent him a side-eyed glare. Terry cringed. “Shit, I just assumed everyone knew. Sorry, man.”

  Brody raised both hands. “No worries. I can keep a secret. Glad you found someone. You’ll have to bring her to the next barbeque so we can meet her. Bet she’s one hell of a lady.”

  “Has to be to keep this old dog from sniffing around.” Terry slapped him on the shoulder.

  Ryker didn’t need that type of talk around Brianna’s brother. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He needed to stop this shit in its tracks. “My personal life, as always, is not up for discussion.”

  “What about for trashing?” Terry laughed and ducked at the glare he sent his direction. He held up his hands. “All right, I give.”

  “King, get your ass out of here. Terry, we need to review the cases that will go to court soon and work the schedule to make sure we have the officers involved available.”

  Terry snared his tablet and King waved, yawning again, shuffling through the door. His sergeant shut the door behind him. He leveled a stare at his old friend and lieutenant. “Drop the talk about my lady.”

  “Dude, I was joking. No offense meant. I’m sure she’s a wonderful woman.” Terry’s eyes held honest regret.

  He glanced at the door and then back to Terry. “Between us and absolutely no one else?”

  “You know I can keep a confidence. I just assumed everyone knew you had a lady. I overheard you talking to her a couple times.”

  “Yeah, well, my woman is Brody and Brock’s sister.”

  Terry stared at him for a long moment before a wide smile spread across his face. “You dog! You’re robbing the cradle!”

  He groaned and dropped his head back on the chair. “She hasn’t introduced me to the family yet. Can’t say as I’m looking forward to the fallout, but she’s worth it.”

  Terry clamped a hand over his mouth and laughed, “Oh, fuck! You’re dating the commissioner’s daughter! Fenton will have a brain hemorrhage!”

  He snorted. “Yeah, well, he will shit a brick when I ask her to marry me.”

  Terry’s laughter stalled. “How long have you been dating?”

  “Almost three months.”

  “Kinda fast there, isn’t it?”

  He shook his head. “Not for me. I’m turning 47 this year, I’ve run the race, and I can tell you no one has ever been better for me than this woman. She’s strong, independent, knows a cop’s life, and she’s got her own life together.”

  Terry stared at him and then narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, that’s fine, but do you love her?”

  Ryker leaned forward and stared into the bottom of his coffee cup. “I’m in deep. Yeah, I do.”

  Terry reached out and cuffed him on the arm. “Yeah, but does she know?”

  Ryker chuckled. “I haven’t said the words, but I think she knows.”

  Terry looked at him and shook his head.

  “What?”

  “My mom, you’ve met her, right?”

  “Yes, I have. She’s amazing.” A take-no-shit-from-anyone kind of amazing with a stare that could make you feel you were ten years old.

  “Yeah, that’s one word for her. Anyway, my mom taught me two things about women. The first, never assume a woman can read your mind. She can’t and, not only that, evidently, according to what my momma drilled into me, she doesn’t want to.”

  Ryker chuckled. “Ah, huh. Noted. What’s the second rule?”

  “A lady is always right, even when she isn’t.” Terry arched a single eyebrow. “Didn’t your momma ever tell you these things?”

  Ryker huffed and shook his head. “My mother was busy raising four other boys. I got my education through the school of hard knocks.”

  “Oh, don’t you think my momma didn’t knock me around. She did. I still have a bruise on my ass from the last whipping I got with that wooden spoon.”

  Ryker burst out laughing. “Yeah, when was that?”

  “I’m thirty-nine, so thirty years ago.” Terry’s laughter melded with his.

  “I see the captain and lieutenant of my Joint Drug Enforcement Team are hard at work.”

  Ryker turned his attention toward the door. The mirth of the moment dried into nothing. “Colonel Fenton.” He and Terry stood. “How may I be of assistance?”

  “You can explain to me how Desoto died.” The man’s face was beet red and a vein bulged on his large, bald head.

  “As of this moment, we are uncertain Desoto is dead, sir.” He crossed his arms and waited.

  Fenton blinked and his mouth fell open before he snapped it shut. “I received notification that his house burned down and he and two others were dead.”

  “You did? From who? I know the reports we sent forward were that we had three unidentifiable bodies and pending forensic identification they would be John Doe one, two, and three.”

  “It was your responsibility to bring the Edelman case to court. With Desoto dead, you have nothing.”

  “Not exactly accurate either, sir,” he interjected. “We have the Edelmans' testimony, video of the events of the night, physical evidence in the form of letters Desoto wrote to Clare Edelman, and the crates of pressed Gray Death that we removed from her greenhouse. The DA believes we can still go forward with the case.”

  “There is no way to pin this to Peña without Desoto’s testimony.”

  “I believe the DA is aware of that, too.” Cliff Sands was trying to get Clare Edelman to roll on Rubio, which would put them one step closer to Peña. He wasn’t sure if his superior had any idea about the connection between Rubio, Desoto, and Clare Edelman, and he would not put that information in front of his glory-mongering boss.

  “This team is a miscreant-filled mess. Your mismanagement of the Edelman case borders on criminal. I’m watching you, Terrell. You breathe in the wrong direction and I’ll dismantle this team. You may have friends in high places, but mine are higher.”

  Ryker arched an eyebrow. Fenton wasn’t the only one who could throw out threats. “Yes sir, and sir, may I ask why you didn’t inform anyone that Desoto made bail yesterday?”

  The man squared his shoulders. “Are you suggesting I failed to pass on information that would have prevented the events of last night?”

  Ryker stood his ground with Terrence right beside him. “No sir, I asked why the information didn’t come to us.”

  “I didn’t receive any information about Desoto until Major Dewitt contacted me last night to inform me of yet another fiasco.”

  “My detectives must have misunderstood what the Deputy told them.”

  Fenton sneered. “That seems to be the standard for this team. I’m watching closely, Captain.”

  “Duly noted, sir.”

  The man spun on his heel and stomped out of the room. Terrence released a huff of air, his shoulders lowering a bit. “Motherfucker is a snake.”

  “He is. Get with King. I need the name of the jailor he spoke with, and I need a copy of the paperwork showing Fenton received the notification. Make it happen before Fenton can cover his tracks.”

  “On it, and Ryker, don’t let this guy get to you. The commissioner has your back and every person out there would go to the mat
for you.” Terry dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder before he power-walked from the conference room. Ryker dropped into the chair and drew a deep breath while he stared at the fake wood grain of the table. It was one thing for Fenton to be gunning for him, but the people on his team were outstanding. When the asshole called them miscreants, a red flag had waved in front of his eyes. He should have said nothing. He should have taken the verbal barb and let it wash over him like the rest of the shit Fenton said, but damn it, he would not let that man take aim at his team.

  He leaned back in his chair and stared up at the clock. There were options. Options he didn’t want to think about, but if push came to shove and his people were in Fenton’s direct line of fire, he could punch out. An early retirement would remove Fenton’s bullseye from the team. He could find work somewhere. He had friends; hell, he could beg his half-brother for a temporary job. His gut rolled at that thought. Humbling himself to his half-brother would be a last resort. Fuck, retiring and giving up the fight would be the last thing he’d imagine happening, but after months and months of Fenton’s accusations and attacks, it was a course of action he’d be smart to consider. A call to HR would start the rumor mills, but he could pull most of the documentation from HR’s website.

  “Cap, Rayburn and Watson just brought in Mouse.” Patel’s voice from the doorway snapped him from his defeatist thoughts.

  “Copy that. What interview room is she in?”

  “Three. She’s tweaking a bit, but coherent.”

  “I’ll be right there.” He stood up and squared his shoulders. Fenton could push and threaten, but until there was something to worry about, he had a drug enforcement team to run. Drug dealers never stopped pumping poison into the city.

  “Cap, I heard that jailor say they called Fenton. Sergeant King had the phone on speaker. He read it right off the form. I know the jailor, too. He’s straight up and isn’t on the take. If that paperwork disappears, he’ll make a statement as to what he saw. We got your back.”