Chapter 88
K.J. didn't have an office. She hadn’t earned her way into one yet—but she would. Someday. She did have access to the conference rooms whenever she needed space. Major Crimes didn’t have to share conference spaces with other units, either. She had moved up in the world, that was for sure.
She claimed an unused space and got to work.
She had the printouts that she had been told specifically had come from Hope Coleson digging around old case files.
K.J. was to formally go through them and sign off on anything she found that confirmed what Major Crimes was looking for.
And sign off on anything that disproved it, as well.
Though no one thought there would be much of that at all.
All K.J. knew was that the chief wanted fresh eyes on what Hope had found. Fast.
She spread the most important documents out over the conference table and began highlighting and making notes.
So many people thought detective work was exciting, like on the crime dramas and police procedurals. It was the farthest from that that it could be. She suspected most of her work as a detective was going to be using pen, paper, and her brain.
Fortunately, she'd been told repeatedly that she had a good one.
And being in the conference room allowed her to hide.
She wasn't exactly a coward. But word had gotten around. Bryant Naylor had a lot of friends in the detective division, including Major Crimes. Somehow it had gotten out that she suspected him of being as dirty as the bottoms of her boots.
Well, he was just going to have to deal with that. And so were they.
She knew what it was like. Sometimes women in law enforcement, well, sometimes.... No matter how much street cred she had built over the years, when it came down to it, men around this place would have Bryant Naylor’s back more than they would hers.
There was already some hostility toward her for what had happened between her and Bryant. People were gossiping and saying things about her behind her back. Now that she was a big, bad detective with Major Crimes. Petty, jealous assholes.
She had the wrong equipment for some around this place. That was a reality she’d faced in law enforcement before. Well, screw Naylor, and any of his friends, too. If he was dirty, if he was responsible for what had happened to his own brother—well, K.J. was going to prove it.
She had been working in the conference room for several hours when the sound of footsteps had her looking up. Someone made a big production of knocking on the doorframe and asking permission to enter.
Of course. Trace stood there.
He was almost the most obnoxious man on the planet.
He had Brett beat by a mile. But a part of her thought he reminded her of her brother.
She was getting used to him. He was…tolerable, at times.
And not afraid to do the work, either. He was okay for now.
She was going to be continuing to work with him half the time, while transitioning into Major Crimes.
Not ideal, but Marshall was trying to fill holes everywhere.
But she was ready for Brett to come back. They’d gotten good news recently, too.
Brett had been moved up in prognosis, at least. He was starting to be awake more often, too. They had come so close to losing him. He would make a full recovery—eventually. No one knew when that eventuality would happen, though. It just would. And that was what mattered.
Dom Acardi had been able to fully interview Brett earlier that morning.
They knew what he had found now. He’d been following a money trail on a defense attorney who had been killed six years ago.
And the names had led right back to Hughes Heights.
He’d had four names, but hadn’t been ready to say anything.
Because one of those names was Daniel McKellen, Senior.
Brett hadn’t been ready to open that can of worms yet. She understood why, considering.
She was going to see if there was any overlap with what she had now. And go from there.
"Hey, boss," Trey said. "Remember that kid we saw walking around Hughes Heights? Teenage girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. School uniform?"
K.J. nodded. She’d almost forgotten, but she did remember. They’d seen the girl walking around in Hughes Heights a few other times, too. Always alone. "Why?"
"She's in the bullpen right now. Says she needs to talk to you. She'll only speak with you, and she’s pretty emphatic about that. Recognized me, but wouldn’t even give me the time of day—no matter how adorable I am. I think you’ve made a new friend."
K.J. could give her a few minutes—maybe fifteen—then grab some lunch.
She was starving. It was the Hughes Heights connection.
She’d learned years ago that sometimes the smallest thing could turn a case on its head.
Someone wanted to talk, even a teenager, she would listen.
"I've got a few minutes. I'll talk to her. "
"You want me to go in with you? Teach you the techniques of interrogation, since I have had my shield for such a long time now?"
"This isn't an interrogation. This is a kid. I think I can handle myself just fine."
"Whatever. You know you miss me when we're not together. We're fated to fall madly in love and live happily ever after. Six kids and all. What about it? You ready to pop the question? I’m getting impatient."
Someone snorted behind him. “Hear you’ll have to get in line with this one, Trace. She was off on a date when her last partner was shot. Something to keep in mind.”
She turned. It was Bryant. Of course she hadn't seen him come in. K.J. automatically tensed, and the hair rose on her arms and everything.
“Chill, man. Not cool.” All teasing was out of Trace’s tone now.
"Oh, looks like you have a bit of scum that followed you right on in, Trace. Like dog poop on your shoe. Maybe you should just keep stepping on it until it wears off." She knew Bryant was saying things about her—his little friends in the road patrol units were making that very, very known.
"Wow. Talk about some tension here. Maybe you two should just get married and get it over with?" Trace said, crossing his arms over his massive chest and just looking at them both. “Enemies-to-lovers, maybe?"
But he had shifted in front of her a little. She did appreciate that. “I’d rather die first.”
Bryant just smirked at her, looking like his brother in so many ways. “I have somewhere else to be, I’m afraid. We’ll have to do this later. I’ll make sure of it.”
She knew what it was—it was a threat.
Now wasn’t the time to deal with Bryant Naylor. But she would have to deal with him eventually. She thought about that as she entered the TSP lobby.
Then she forced herself to shove him out of her head and focus on what she had to do now.
She could see the teenager standing right there at the receptionist’s desk, next to the security check point. K.J. studied her for a moment.
The teenager was taller, but she wasn’t any older than fifteen or so.
Maybe even close to K.J.’s own five-six.
She had that coltish look that a lot of girls her age had that said she just was not quite in control of her body yet.
She'd fill out a little as she aged and would be a beautiful woman someday.
But there was fear in her face now. Like the girl was facing the entire world alone. Well, K.J. understood exactly what that felt like.
"Hello. I understand you came to see me?"
The girl, and K.J. could not remember her name, stepped closer. She just looked at K.J. from the most haunting blue eyes she had ever seen. The girl’s name popped into her head. “Riely, right?”
She nodded slowly. "I need to talk to someone. About a murder."
Well, that was not something K.J. had anticipated. "You can talk to me. I do work with the homicide division."
“You said I could come to you.”
"I did. And I meant it. Who was murdered, Riely?"
"His name was Ricky. His name was Ricky Ahumada. And he was my boyfriend. And…and I know who hurt him. It was all because of me.” The little girl stood there and cried.
“Okay, Riely. I am familiar with Ricky’s case. We are going to sit down and talk. You can tell me what you know, so I can help.”
She led her into the bullpen. She had one target in mind. And he was right there now.
Miguel Rodriguez was at a desk in the far center of the bullpen, his entire posture saying something was happening. He was such a beautiful man, and one she loved looking at.
“Commander Rodriguez,” K.J. said quietly.
He looked up at her. He…wow. The power of those eyes.
Talk about intense. If she ever did decide to get involved with a man she worked with, she’d want him to be like this one in front of her.
He was a good man. She’d bet her last five paychecks on that.
She didn’t care what a man looked like—it was how a man acted that mattered.
“If you have a moment, I have someone here who needs to talk to you about Ricky Ahumada.”
Miguel stood, and looked at the teenager. “Hello. I’m the head of the homicide division. I’ve been working on Ricky’s case personally. Would you like to sit down? We can go into my office if you feel more comfortable.”
The little girl—despite her height, she was only thirteen or fourteen, she was still a child—shot a fearful look around. Then she paled and her eyes widened.
As she looked at the men who had just walked into the bullpen now. Dom Acardi stood there—with Melvin Stillman.
Riely looked like she was going to run away. Like she was trapped. K.J. reached out, took her hand. “You are safe here. I promise. Miguel and I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“I-I-I don’t want him to see me. Please.” Her whisper was heartbreaking. But it was too late.
Stillman had already seen her. He stopped right where he was. “Riely, what are you doing here? Are you okay? Are you hurt, sweetheart?”
He almost sounded like he cared. And he knew this girl.
K.J. slipped between the girl and the man K.J. had always found smarmy and disgusting. “Riely is here to talk to me, Major Stillman. If you’ll excuse us?”
“Of course. Riely, it is okay, child. It will all be okay. I promise. I’m here…” He turned to Miguel and Dom. “I am here to tell you all what I know. About her grandfather.”
“Who is her grandfather?” Miguel asked. He was big, and strong and people were terrified of him. He’d stepped in front of the child as soon as K.J. had.
“He is the man you have been looking for, for a long time.”
“Come in here. We’re going to talk,” Miguel said to Stillman. He looked at K.J. “You do not let her out of your sight, until I come for her myself. Understood?”
“Absolutely. I’m not going anywhere. Riely, if you’ll come with me. We’re going to go into an office over here and wait for Miguel, okay?” K.J. wrapped her hand around the teenager’s again. It was the fear that stuck out the most. What about Melvin Stillman scared her so much?