Act of Valor Page 14

  We got him. This time, we really got him.

  Moments later he met his brother and Frosty coming from the other direction.

  “Where is he?” Zach all but shouted.

  Carter was breathing hard. “Dunno. He should have exited this way.”

  They about-faced and Frosty nosed a metal door they had not noticed before.

  “Some dog,” Zach groaned. “Why didn’t he alert earlier?”

  “He’s a transit dog, not a tracking dog,” Carter snapped. They counted to three and burst through the door into an abandoned warehouse, guns drawn. One look at the cavernous empty space filled them in.

  Zach slammed a fist against his thigh with frustration. “He got out. Slipped through the front. They’ve rehearsed it before, no doubt.”

  “And he took the stash with him, neat as you please.”

  Zach could have spit nails, but he radioed in Jones’s last known position, anyway.

  “Our search warrant is gonna get us a big fat zero,” Carter said. “Furniture store’s gonna be clean as a whistle.”

  Another lead lost. Another chance to save Violet from harm slipped away.

  From the police car, Eddie let out a heartrending howl.

  He felt like doing the same.

  * * *

  Violet was relieved when Zach, Carter and Noah made their way into the diner. It was past their usual dinner hour and Violet was growing worried. One glance at their expressions as they led the dogs to the screened patio area told her everything. The furniture store had been a bust. Xavier Beck was more than likely still on the loose, too, judging from their slumped shoulders. She fought back a chill that rippled over her skin.

  Feed them. Wordlessly, she poured bowls of clam chowder and carried them to the men. “Hard day? You must be hungry. Chowder’s good.”

  Zach looked so downcast, she longed to put her arms around his neck and whisper comfort, but instead, she tried for a bright smile. “Saturday special is coming, fried chicken.”

  Zach shook his head. “Jones slipped between our fingers and we got nothing from the furniture store. Whatever they had in there was long gone. No leads on Beck, either. We got zero out of today, absolutely nothing.”

  “Not nothing,” Noah said, checking his phone.

  “What?” Zach pushed his soup away. “Did we get Beck? Victor Jones? Please tell me some good news.”

  “Okay, here it is, but I’m not sure it qualifies as good. I won’t sugarcoat it.” Noah blinked as if fighting for control. “We’ve expected it, so it won’t be a surprise to anyone here.” He cleared his throat. “Final autopsy reports are in. Jordan died of a massive heart attack due to a cocaine overdose. It was administered via an injection into his upper arm. It wasn’t a finesse job, enough to convince the coroner it wasn’t self-inflicted. There was no evidence of old tracks, of course.”

  “We’ve been telling them that from the beginning,” Carter said. “No way was Jordy a user.”

  Noah raised a palm. “Everyone in the department knew that, but the ME had to rule it out. Her official finding is the death is the result of foul play.”

  The room fell into a profound silence so deep that Violet could hear the water dripping in the sink.

  “It’s not really news, I guess,” Noah said. “Just confirming what we already believed, that Jordy didn’t kill himself, but now it’s official enough that reporters might stop hounding us about it.”

  Zach’s face was stark, pulled taut with extreme emotion. “No, they’ll start hounding us about what we’ve done to catch the killer and we have nothing to say, no progress to report. It’s a sizzling story, isn’t it? Someone went to great lengths to make his death look like suicide and we have absolutely no idea who that someone is.”

  Luke Hathaway cleared his throat. “The department is working the case.”

  “Not hard enough or fast enough,” Zach snapped.

  “They have good cops on it, Zach,” Brianne Hayes said. “They’re doing their best and you know it.”

  “We should be the ones working this case, the K-9 unit. The investigators spent too much time looking at Claude Jenks, but we know he didn’t kill Jordy. We’ve suspected that from the beginning since Sophie caught him planting the suicide note.”

  “They had to be thorough. It can’t be our investigation. We’re too close to it,” Finn Gallagher said gently. “Protocols are in place for a reason.”

  Zach slammed out of his chair. “I don’t care about protocols, Finn. My brother was murdered, leaving a wife and child behind, and I did nothing to prevent it.” His voice shook. “I’m sure as shooting not going to do nothing to solve it.”

  “We have to be patient,” Noah said, a warning in his tone.

  “No, we don’t,” Zach spat.

  The cops looked at each other helplessly as Zach stalked into the screened room and called sharply for Eddie. The expression in his eyes, the desolation and rage when he returned, scared Violet.

  “Where are you going?” Noah asked.

  “To look for Snapper. If I can’t find Jordan’s killer, at least maybe I can find his dog.”

  “It’s too late in the day, Zach,” Noah said. “Sun’s setting and you’ve been hard at it. Sit back down and eat your supper.”

  Zach’s eyes flashed blue fire. “I’m off duty so I’ll do what I please. Or are you giving me orders on how to spend my off-hours now, too?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he stalked out.

  Noah blew out a long, slow breath and closed his eyes for a moment.

  Violet’s stomach knotted watching him. She ached for what she understood must be his feeling of painful helplessness at days, weeks, of agony with no progress toward solving his brother’s murder. Now added to that was another case that was seemingly stymieing the police. The burdens were almost too much to take for all of them.

  “Do we just let him go?” Finn said. “Walk out when he’s in that state of mind?”

  Carter sighed. “Can’t stop him. We have to hope and pray that he doesn’t self-destruct or do something dumb.”

  Violet knew she had to act fast before her father tried to stop her. Quickly, she went to the kitchen and hung up her apron, grabbed her phone and slipped out the back door.

  Hoping and praying were one thing, but she wasn’t about to let Zach go off by himself.

  SIXTEEN

  Zach was just about to rocket out of the diner parking lot when Violet slid into the passenger seat next to him.

  Eddie yipped in pleasure from the backseat.

  Zach kept his gaze aimed stonily out the front windshield. “Not a good idea right now, Vi.”

  “Why? Because you’re upset?”

  “Because I’m not good company.”

  “Well, you’re not tearing off alone, not like this.”

  He gripped the steering wheel. “I’m too angry, Vi. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

  “I’m big enough to take it.” She pointed a finger to the sky. “He is, too.”

  “Don’t talk to me about God. If you insist on coming along, at least spare me that, huh? People have been telling me all about God’s love since I was a kid and right now, I just don’t feel it.”

  “All right. We’ll talk about whatever you want.”

  “I don’t want to talk at all.”

  “That’s fine, too. Drive on, Officer.”

  Muttering, he put the car in gear and drove, with no particular destination in mind. His thoughts whirled and churned inside. Jordy’s killer was free to roam the streets and even kill again if he wanted to, and they had not one clue as to the person’s motive or identity. Nothing. Hearing the coroner confirm what they already knew burned it deeper, like slowly dripping acid. They drove in silence until he found himself at Vanderbilt Parkway, where Jordy ran almost every day and had l
oved taking Ellie and Snapper to play on the weekends. Zach had no doubt Jordy would have continued the practice with his own son or daughter, if he hadn’t been robbed of his chance to be a father. The place was quiet, the swing still, the slides empty. A man walked by with his dog, enjoying the evening air, and Zach’s worry for Snapper flared anew.

  Snapper was a gorgeous German shepherd, a highly trained officer, and Jordy had been proud of that dog, devoted to him. Zach and his brothers had spent hours scouring the place in case Snapper might have somehow returned. Was he even still alive? Try as he did to believe it, the likelihood was growing slimmer with each passing hour. As Zach watched the failing sunlight, his anger shifted to a sense of heavy despair that dragged down his soul.

  Violet sat quietly next to him until the thoughts finally made their way out of his mouth.

  “Snapper would never have allowed anything to happen to Jordy. The dog was protective, devoted, ferocious at times. I saw a drunk guy lurch at Jordy when we were working a Knicks game and Snapper went at him. Guy needed some serious first aid.”

  Violet sighed. “Beautiful dog.”

  “Yeah. Snapper would not have given up on Jordy unless...”

  She reached over and squeezed his hand, knowing the rest.

  Unless the murderer killed Snapper, too.

  “I keep hoping that somehow Snapper got away,” he said.

  “I know. Me, too.”

  The weight became too much. “Why keep hoping, Vi? It’s just going to hurt more when we find Snapper dead, if we ever find him at all.” His voice broke. He gulped and tried again. “When I wake up in the morning, for a split second I forget what happened. I think that I’ll find Jordy visiting in the first-floor kitchen, laughing and bragging about his dog and joking with Katie. And then I remember, and it’s like I gotta grieve it all over again. It’s like a punch in the gut, you know? Every single morning.”

  She nodded, face sculpted like marble in the dim light. So beautiful.

  “I miss my brother.” He felt hot tears on his face, but he didn’t have the energy to try and hide them from her, so he closed his eyes and let them flow.

  He felt her fingers capture his hand between her palms and she started to pray. At first, anger flashed inside him and he wanted to pull away from her, but again, he didn’t have it in him to do anything but surrender to the pain. He allowed her words to cascade over him, through him, to tangle with the rage and grief and despair. They settled into the black pit where he’d landed the moment he understood his brother truly was gone, sending ripples through the mire. He did not know how long they stayed there, praying, but when he finally opened his eyes, the sun had fully faded to nighttime and the agony inside him had lessened a degree. The pain remained intense, but for some reason he no longer felt completely alone in bearing it.

  He looked at her, at the tender smile she gave him. “I’m glad God gave me you,” he choked out, pulling her hand to his mouth and kissing the knuckles.

  “Ditto,” she said, her own eyes glittering with tears.

  “You still pray for me?”

  “Every day, every hour, sometimes.”

  “Good, because I’m still wrecked inside, and I can’t talk to God about it. There’s just too much pain in between us. I’m so angry.”

  “He’ll wait until you are ready. He’s amazing that way.”

  His feelings became too much to hold inside. “You’re amazing, Vi,” he said, and he meant it. “All the issues you’re dealing with right now, and you come along to help me.”

  Something hitched in her smile then. “You’d do it for me.”

  “I’d try.” He reached out a hand to cup her cheek and everything in him wanted to pull her close for another kiss. He pictured his cop brothers and sisters back in the diner, Violet’s mom and dad, what they would say about him kissing her. And what if that kiss sent her running away, the truest friend he’d ever known? What if he drove this magnificent woman from his life? It would be the final loss, the blow that truly destroyed him. He ached to cross the inches between them, and feared what would happen if he did.

  He let his arm trail away and scrubbed a hand over his face, clearing his throat. “I’ll take you home.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he started to drive. The quiet in the car was mirrored in the scant traffic around them. New York was a city that truly never slept, but at that moment it was quieter, slower. They sat side by side in easy silence, something he shared with no other woman, no other person.

  After a few blocks she sat back, cleared her throat and smoothed her jeans. “I need to go by my apartment.”

  “Why?”

  “I could tell you, but you’re not going to like it.”

  He heaved out a sigh and shifted in the driver’s seat. Though he’d made no breakthroughs and his troubles had not eased one tiny fraction, somehow his heart felt lighter after his time with Violet. “We’ll be stuck in traffic anyway, so you might as well spill it, Griffin.”

  “All right,” she said, cocking her chin at him, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  * * *

  It was good to have details to discuss. Her nerves were still tumbling after her conversation with Zach. He’d delved deep into the private place where he locked all his feelings and brought some out to lay at her feet. It was a magnificent act of trust and she was honored beyond measure. She would have been happy to stay there and listen to him for hours, but she could tell by the weary slump to his shoulders that the storm had passed temporarily, and he needed to get some rest.

  Don’t worry, Zach. I will pray for you until you can see the daylight again.

  “So why the urgent need to go back to your apartment?” he pressed.

  She figured the best way was to flat-out say it. “I need to pick up a dress.”

  “A dress? No way. Beck might be watching. Buy yourself a new one.”

  “Are you volunteering to be my personal bodyguard while I go dress shopping? Just to let you know, that usually involves several stores and a minimum four hours or so.”

  He rolled his eyes. “That’s nuts.”

  “Then you’ll agree it’s a better choice to let me pick up the dress I already have in my closet.”

  His brows crimped. “May I ask why you need this garment? Sounds fancy for working in a diner and babysitting Latte.”

  She blew out a breath and steeled herself. “Bill Oscar’s memorial ceremony is Monday.”

  He cut her off. “No.”

  “It’s at a little room in the airport.”

  “No.”

  “And it will be well secured.”

  “No, Vi,” he said, finally looking at her. “There is no way you should go to Bill’s memorial service with Beck still at large.”

  “Come with me, then. If he makes a move, you’ll be right there and you can arrest him.”

  “I’m not willing to risk your safety, and you shouldn’t be, either. Let’s be smart here.”

  “Zach, Bill was trying to save me.” Her throat began to close and tears blurred her vision as much as she tried to keep them at bay. “He died, trying to warn me. He left behind a wife and two boys whom I have known since they were born. I have to be there for them.”

  Zach groaned. “Vi, you’re killing me.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make things harder, but I have to do this.”

  He gripped the wheel. “And I’m not going to change your mind no matter what I say?”

  She shook her head.

  He groaned. “At least you gave me some warning. I’ll be with you every moment, of course.”

  Relieved, she settled back in the seat and let Zach drive back to her apartment. He looked so exhausted, eyes smudged with fatigue. Probably he was hungry, too, since he’d walked out in the middle of dinner. When they took the elevator up to her apartme
nt, she pointed to the sofa. “You can sit on the end that isn’t chewed and rest a while. It’s going to take me a bit to try on the dress again. There’s actually two choices, a black sheath, which is classic, but there’s also...”

  He waved a hand. “Right. Okay. Eddie and I will just camp out on what’s left of your sofa.”

  She went to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of cereal, a container of milk and a spoon. “Wheat squares. Dinner of champions, since you were silly enough to walk out on my father’s clam chowder.”

  “Silly men get wheat squares, I guess. Thanks, Vi.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She went about her task of picking out a dress, finally settling on the black sheath and leather pumps, which she put into a duffel bag, along with more clothes and toiletries since she doubted she’d get Zach to agree to bring her back anytime soon.

  A low rumble sounded from the living room. Eddie was asleep and snoring, curled up in Zach’s lap. Zach was also asleep, head slanted to rest on her uncomfortable, half-eaten couch. They should go, get out of that apartment and back to the safety of the diner, but her heart swelled at the sight of him there, sleeping. His face was younger in sleep, not quite so careworn, and he almost looked like the high school boy she remembered, always with a basketball in his hand, looking for mischief and rarely still. She allowed herself a moment to take in the strong planes of his face, the angular chin, before she laid a quilt gently around his shoulders.

  No reason why he can’t have an hour of sleep before he takes me home.

  Leaving him there asleep, she curled up in her favorite chair and tried to look at a fashion magazine. Her mind kept drifting back to the car, when she thought for a thunderous moment that he might kiss her again. The problem was, she desperately wanted him to, craved it with all her being.

  The truth glided in, easy as a spring breeze. Oh, how she’d loved that man, craved moments with him, stored up their fond memories like a child collects shells on the beach. She’d broken her own rules with Zach, revealed to him her soft fragile feelings and allowed him to become the most important person in her life.