Deadly Secrets (Grayson’s Guardians #3)

Chapter 1

Former army soldier Dina Milbrath paused on Glenview Avenue in Newburgh, New York, pretending to window shop while using the reflection of the glass to get a better view of the man lurking across the street.

She’d picked up the tail within two minutes of leaving her apartment.

She’d purposefully meandered around as if she didn’t have anywhere important to go, despite her stomach growling with hunger.

The guy in the baseball cap had followed, remaining several paces behind her. He wasn’t very good at hiding his presence, yet the way he wore the baseball hat low on his forehead was enough to mask his features.

Di didn’t recognize him. Yet she estimated he was younger than she was, mid- to late-twenties and painfully average in height and build.

He wore black jeans and a black T-shirt that was loose and untucked, making her think he had a weapon hiding underneath.

There were no visible tattoos linking him to one of the local gangs from what she could see.

She was armed and could take care of herself, so she wasn’t necessarily concerned about her safety, yet she needed to understand why this guy was following her. Unfortunately, there were far too many possibilities. Most related to her work with Grayson’s Guardians.

Her last mission, three weeks ago, had been to infiltrate the K2 Bloods gang, known for moving drugs via the Hudson River.

She’d pulled Caden Avery out of the gang, returning him to his father who lived in Yonkers.

The nineteen-year-old had seemed grateful to be able to start over without the gang life pulling him down.

She’d thought everything was fine since then.

Apparently not. The gang leader, Terance Warren, had been arrested along with several of his foot soldiers during her mission.

The K2 Bloods had mostly disbanded, or so she’d been told.

The Newburgh mayor and police chief were working hard to eliminate the threat of violence from the crime-plagued city located thirty-five miles outside of New York.

A few years ago, the Newburgh police had teamed up with the feds to bring down the leaders of the Latin Kings.

That had been a big step forward to peace.

Yet there were always more gang recruits ready to risk their lives to step into the world of what many perceived as easy money. She felt certain Warren’s second-in-command, Pablo Hernandez, must have uncovered the role she’d played in extricating Caden from the city.

She didn’t live in the sketchy part of town, and it was a little unusual for the gang to venture beyond their turf.

Since she wanted to get a closer look at this guy, she decided to create a mini sting operation.

She entered a store and spent a few minutes rifling through the clothing racks.

At the five-minute mark, she stepped back outside, sliding her sunglasses on to cut the glare of the noon summer sun.

Then she made a show of looking at her watch and grimacing as if realizing she were running late.

Di broke into a light jog, heading down the street.

Upon reaching the intersection, she made a quick right turn, then ducked into the next doorway, which belonged to a coffee shop.

Watching from a position off to the side of a window, she felt a grim sense of satisfaction when the baseball guy hurried to the corner, then looked both ways, clearly trying to spot her. When he didn’t see her, he stood for a moment, then turned away and pulled out his phone.

Did he have a partner? Maybe, but that wasn’t enough to prevent her from getting answers. She quickly darted out of the coffee shop to rush the guy from behind. She grabbed him, spinning him around toward her as she heard the crack of gunfire.

Finely tuned instincts from her years in the army had Di ducking and hitting the ground, taking the ball-cap guy with her. She wanted to reach for her weapon but didn’t dare loosen her grip on her stalker.

“Who are you?” she demanded when they’d stopped moving. Glancing down at the guy who’d lost his ball cap during the struggle, she realized his body was limp and that he was bleeding from a wound in the center of his chest.

He’d been hit! She rose to her knees, grabbing and shaking him by the shoulders. Up close, she could see his face, but she still didn’t recognize him.

“Hey! Answer me! Who are you? Why are you following me?” Spying the disposable phone lying on the ground beside him, she subtly grabbed it and stuffed it into her pocket.

The move wasn’t as smooth as back when she was a teen, her pickpocketing skills had gotten rusty, but she’d kept her body between the wounded guy and the café behind her, so she didn’t think anyone noticed.

The guy groaned, his eyelids flickering open. He stared up at her, then looked away. “You have to pay . . .”

“Pay for what?” She pressed, feeling sure that he was talking about how she’d gotten Caden out of the gang and arrested their former leader. “Who sent you? Pablo?”

He stared blankly at her for a long moment, then slumped to the ground, his entire body going lax. Grinding her teeth together in frustration, she released his shoulders and palpated for a pulse.

Nothing.

He was dead. She took a moment to pat him down, finding the weapon tucked in the small of his back as she’d surmised.

Aside from the gun and the cheap disposable phone that was now hidden in her pocket, she didn’t find anything else.

No cash, no ID. If he was with the K2 Bloods gang, he’d have had a wad of cash on him.

That he didn’t have anything at all confused her. She leaned back on her haunches, thinking that if not for his piss-poor tailing skills, the guy might have been a professional.

Did that mean he wasn’t part of the gang? She honestly didn’t know.

“Hey, are you okay?” A male voice had her turning to glance toward the café.

Patrons of the coffee shop had spilled out at the sound of the gunfire. Di pushed herself upright, scowling at them. Smart people who weren’t armed should run away from gunshots, not straight into the line of fire.

“I’m fine, but back up, please.” She waved her hands in a shooing motion to indicate she wanted them out of the way in case the shooter was still hanging around. “This man has been struck in the chest, and I don’t know where the shooter is located. Did anyone call 911?”

“I did.” The older man with white hair held up his phone. He was the one who’d called out to her. “Are you sure you’re not hurt? I thought you were hit when that gunshot rang out.”

“I’m fine. Unfortunately, this man isn’t.

” She forced a smile, despite how the white-haired guy stared at the deep scar that lined her right cheek.

Most of the time she barely remembered she had it, but when she faced people for the first time, she became self-conscious about the knife wound that was courtesy of tangling with an Afghan soldier.

The injury had been sutured by Doc, their team medic, while they were hiding in a bunker.

Doc had done his best under the circumstances.

She didn’t blame the medic for her disfigurement.

“Please stay back toward the building to preserve the crime scene.”

A few of the patrons did as she suggested, but one couple hurried away, disappearing around the corner. She blew out a frustrated breath. This was not good. She had no doubt the bullet had been intended for her. The way she’d yanked ball-cap guy around had caused him to be struck instead.

She hated to admit she hadn’t anticipated that there would be a second man waiting to take her out. If she’d been a few seconds slower . . .

Her teammates would say God was looking out for her. Di didn’t believe that for a hot minute. She forced herself to concentrate on the dead man. She desperately wanted to know who he was and who’d sent him.

The identity of the gunman would be nice to know too.

Screaming sirens indicated the police were on the way.

It wasn’t easy to calmly wait for the City of Newburgh police cruiser to pull up in front of the café.

Back when she lived on the streets of New York City, she’d have disappeared long before the cops had a chance to arrive.

But since there was a dead guy lying in the street, not to mention a handful of witnesses who could no doubt identify her, she felt it prudent to stay long enough to get her side of the incident on file.

She forced a smile as a pair of officers emerged from the vehicle.

The smile froze on her face when she recognized the taller of the two men. Jarek, a.k.a. Jarhead, Brooks. He was a cop? The knot of dread in her gut tightened as Jarek, of course, recognized her.

His blue eyes narrowed as he raked his gaze over her. “Di. What happened here?”

“You two know each other?” the shorter cop asked. His name tag read Kent.

“We served together in Afghanistan,” Jarek said. “I only did one tour, but Di was stationed there for two tours.” His frown deepened. “I’m glad you made it home.”

“I was one of the lucky ones.” Seeing Jarek Brooks after all these years was an unwelcome shock. She turned toward Kent. “My name is Dina Milbrath,” she quickly introduced herself. “Someone fired a weapon from the north, striking this man here and killing him.”

“Are you hurt?” Jarek asked, his expression grim.

“No, I’m fine. These people came out of the café at the sound of gunfire; they witnessed the event.” She nodded toward the five people who had remained, including the white-haired guy. “That being said, I believe I was the intended target.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Jarek muttered.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Officer Kent looked confused. “Why does someone want to kill her?”