Chapter 15
fifteen
. . .
Jensen
As I exit the building,I pause, dialing Connor’s number.
“I’m a minute out.” He doesn’t even say hello.
“You’ll beat me to the scene, I’m leaving Brynn’s place now.” I don’t miss the way my tone sounds angry. My life has been complicated. My job and its demands tend to weigh heavy on any relationship. Yet, I’ve somehow met a woman that understands and she too has a demanding work life. I get now more than anything how those opposite me in any relationship might have felt. It’s a constant roadblock to get time with the other person and you’re left with disappointment.
I’m feeling it heavy now.
“Awe, is someone cranky.” I can hear the humor in Connor’s voice.
“Fuck off.” I end the call to the sounds of his laughter and walk toward my car parked about ten spaces down on the curb. Hitting the button the lights flash and I yank open the door, climbing inside.
The drive to South State Street doesn’t take as long as I thought. I see the flashing lights as I round the corner and pull into the first available space.
Getting out I flash my badge and see officer Gibbs up ahead. He glances back over his shoulder and instantly I notice his demeanor shift. His shoulders square off, his jaw takes a hardened look, eyes narrow.
I haven’t gotten the details but there has been some kind of relationship between him and Brynn in the past. I’m not sure I truly want to know the details.
As I get closer he offers me a lift of his chin, but says nothing. Instead he continues to manage the crowd and observe me as I walk by.
“What do we got?” I ask Hollis, a fellow detective on the scene.
“Two bodies, over here.” He points to the male, mid-twenties; it’s roped off a few feet away from the alley. “And we have a second victim,” he motions to his left, “along the curb, partially in the vehicle, either trying to make a fast getaway or gain shelter.”
True to his word a second male, around the same age is half hanging out of a small four door sedan. The way his body is twisted, his feet still at the curb, his entire upper body inside the car, I’d have to say he was attempting to flee.
“Witnesses say they heard a shot, then saw someone running away toward the alley. Shortly after there was a second shot. I assume the second shot brought that guy down.” He points toward the alley where the man lay face down. “It’s a shot to the chest, so whomever fired the second shot, must have been waiting in the alley. There are no witnesses to who may have fired off the second round.”
“That’s Riley Anders.” I stare at the young man they’ve now removed from the car and laid onto his back just outside the car.
“Myles ran around with him in high school. He’s a little younger than my brother, a couple years maybe.” Myles is the youngest of my siblings at twenty-six. With two sisters he and I spent a lot of time hiding out to escape the dreaded games of dress up our two sisters always attempted to force upon us.
“I don’t think Myles has talked to him in years, but it’s him.” Seeing a familiar face, a lifeless one, so close to my younger brother”s age sits heavy in my gut.
“Drug deal gone bad, maybe?”
I’d love to tell Connor that there is no way Riley was involved in that type of life, but I’d be lying. Myles hit a hard patch too. His senior year he’d got into some hard stuff, drinking, getting high all the time. Skipping school to party all day with people he should have stayed far away from. It all started right after our father passed. Everything fell apart.
“If I had to guess,” I responded, still staring at the kid that slept over at my house, in the same bedroom I shared with my brother. I’d lie awake listening to them talk about girls and smile in the darkness. That was long before the drugs came into play. After I found out Myles was wrapped up in that shit, I took control. I loaded him up in my dad’s old truck and with my mother on the opposite side of him, we drove him to a treatment facility and checked him in.
Hours upon hours, day after day of counseling, tears and screaming, he left ninety days later remembering the man my father thought he’d be.
He changed after that stay.
He grew up.
I walkinto my apartment a few minutes after five a.m. and toss my keys onto the counter.
Connor and I spent hours going over the entire area, pulling footage from surrounding business and combing through every video. We talked to the witnesses, and then made our way back to the station to analyze all our findings.
A black SUV with tinted windows and a partial plate 3611 was seen speeding away within thirty-seconds after the final shot. Two blocks over the same SUV slowed at a stoplight, when two men jumped out and got into an awaiting red Challenger. The plates on the Challenger were obstructed.
Making my way down the hallway, I step into the bathroom and flip on the shower. I should be used to little sleep, but this particular scenario feels like it hits a little closer to home.
I can’t shake the unsettled feeling.
Without further pause, I pull my phone from my back pocket and search for my brother”s name.
I should feel bad for waking him, but honestly I’m not sure I can get through the day without hearing his voice.
“You better have a great excuse for waking my ass up before six in the morning,” he grumbles. Myles has never been a morning person.
“I just really needed to hear your pretty voice.”
“Fuck off,” he groans, making me laugh.
“How are things?”
“Jensen,” he states my name a little more clearly now. “It’s five-thirty-eight in the morning. I know you didn’t call me to check in. So what’s going on? Is everyone okay?”
I know he’s referring to our mother and two sisters.
“Naomi, Jenna, and Mom are all good.”
He remains quiet for a few seconds, and I lean back against the sink”s edge.
“You?” he finally asks and I take a deep breath.
“Found Riley Anders tonight.” My chest grows tight.
“What do you mean you found him?”
I don’t answer, knowing that if I don’t Myles will get what I mean. Someone saying the words felt impossible. I hate that the first thing I thought of was it being my own brother when I saw Riley’s face. If things hadn”t changed, it very well could have been and the idea of something happening to my little brothers kills me. Hell, something happening to any of my family makes it hard to breathe.
“How?” he finally asks, long gone is his attitude for waking him.
“Gunshot.” I release another breath.
“I saw him about a month ago.” Myles” voice is low. “He was bragging about living the good life, driving some beefed up Challenger. I knew it was all drug money.”
“That”s what I,” I pause, Myles” words registering in my mind. “Wait, did you say a Challenger?”
“Yeah, it was ridiculous, big ass tires and rims, so fucking loud he thought is sounded badass.”
“Red?”
“With a thick black racing stripe,” he adds and instantly I’m pushing off the sink and walking back toward the kitchen. Grabbing my bag, I pull out the file with the images and notes.
“I wish he would have had someone to pull him back like I did.” I get what Myles is saying, but my mind is now bouncing all over the place. Finding what I need, I pull out the photo’s of the Challenger on the darkened street. We pulled them all off of the bank camera several doors down.
I’d thought it was a shadow before, but now I can see it”s a stripe. The same racing stripes that Myles described.
“You gonna be at dinner tomorrow night?”
“Mom would send out the search party to drag my ass back if I didn’t.” He’s not lying. Family dinners at Mom’s are a must. I think it”s her way of holding us all together and ensuring we are all good. Physically placed before her so she can get a look at us to ease her mind.
“I’ll see you then,” I tell him, unable to concentrate any longer.
“See ya.” We end the call and immediately I call Connor.
“I just got in the shower,” he barks.
“It’s Riley’s car.”
“What?” I can hear the shower running in the background.
“The red Challenger with the racing stripes. The one the potential shooter got into. It’s Riley’s car.” The water shuts off. “Myles said he ran into him a few weeks back and he was driving the red Challenger. We need to run his name and look for the plates.”
“Meet me at the station in thirty.”
“I’ll bring coffee,” I say as I end the call and practically run down the hall to the bathroom. I had a beautiful brunette I had to meet first.