Chapter 30
THIRTY
BOSTON
“Fuck man, another homicide,” Rolland gripes. I take the coffee from his outstretched hand and sip it.
The victim is lying facedown in the dirt like he was aiming to go to the river. Why he’d be heading down there, I have no clue. His body hasn’t been out here that long, which means he was killed late last night.
“Whoever did it has great aim,” Rolland says, glancing around.
I do my own visual survey of the area. It’s all taped off, so no one other than us can be here, and evidence has already been collected.
“Where was he prior to ending up here?” I ask.
“He went to an underground club, and two women helped him into the back of a cab. He stopped at a place down the road for food, but he didn’t eat it. Probably forgot with how much alcohol he had. Then he left, and this is as far as he got.” He waves a hand around. “It’s weird.”
“I’m going to walk back to the restaurant he left from.”
There aren’t many cameras in this area because no one really comes down here. It’s a pretty rundown area. I’m actually surprised the fast-food restaurant is still open considering they probably get little to no traffic.
Not too far from the crime scene, I notice tire tracks from a car and a motorcycle, which isn’t odd, but it immediately has me thinking of Maven. Where was she last night? She didn’t come to my place. Is she back to working again?
When I push open the door of the restaurant, a young employee looks up at me.
“Are you here about the asshole who was killed?” he asks.
“You know him?”
“No, but he was an asshole when he came in.” He shrugs.
“Anything unusual happen last night?”
“Nope. Like I told the last detective, nothing out of the ordinary. He came in, spewed some shit I couldn’t understand, paid for his order, and sat down over there.” He points, and I look to the empty booth.
“Any other customers?” I inquire.
He starts shaking his head but quickly stops.
“Actually, there was this chick. She tried to order a strawberry milkshake with extra topping.” He laughs. “She settled for a Pepsi.” He shrugs. “But she left way before he did.”
“And you don’t have her on video?”
“Nope. Cameras hardly work as it is.”
“Did she happen to have blue hair?” I ask just as the door jingles behind me.
“Yeah, man, she did.”
Fuck me. My jaw tightens, and my mind starts racing with thoughts of Maven being caught.
“Anything?” Rolland asks, coming up behind me.
“Let’s go.” I nod to the employee, then turn and leave. Rolland follows behind me. “Have we identified the victim?” I ask.
“Yeah, it just came through. His name is Edgar Rather.” My phone starts ringing.
“They’re notifying his family.” Glancing down, I see Soren’s name flash on my screen.
Ignoring it, which I would never usually do, I look back at Rolland.
“Whoever killed him, hit him dead center in the forehead. That’s quite a shot,” he says. “Impressive when you think about it.”
“Or an accidental bingo,” I tell him as my jaw clenches and my stomach starts twisting with frustration.
“Yeah, could be, but my bet is this person is skilled.”
He’s not wrong.
Damnit, I told her she needed to stop going after Forsaken members.
Not only is she putting herself at risk, but she’s also putting me at risk and making me look incompetent.
Like I’m some guy who can’t control his wife.
Not that I want to control her. I would just prefer that she doesn’t kill fucking members of my society.
Because that makes a bigger mess for me.
I call Maven, but she doesn’t answer. She’s probably fucking sleeping after being up all night killing Edgar.
But I have to remind myself that she doesn’t kill for the fun of it.
She always kills for a reason. Bailey and Marcus were personal hits, but Edgar would’ve been a transactional hit for her.
Someone paid her to take out a member of the Forsaken.
I’m hoping it’s just a one-off, and no other members get contracts on their heads, but something tells me this won’t be the last.
I try calling her again, and she doesn’t pick up. I tell Rolland I’ll catch up with him later as my phone rings with another call from Soren. This time I answer, putting it through the car’s Bluetooth.
“I assume you’ve heard about Edgar,” Soren says.
“Yes. I just left the crime scene.”
“And?”
“Straight shot to the head,” I tell him.
“This will not go over well, Boston. You know it won’t.”
“I know,” I tell him as I drive to her apartment.
“We need to find the person doing this.”
“Yes, Lord.”
“Sooner rather than later, Boston,” he warns, then hangs up.
I don’t think I would ever turn her in. Which is an issue.
What is she doing to me? And why am I going to such lengths to protect her?
I come from a background with hardly any family.
My father was a detective, and I dreamed that one day I would follow in his footsteps.
And then I joined the Forsaken Society, and I thought, finally, I have my place in this world.
Everything is coming together. Little did I know that something was missing.
And little did I know it was a blue-haired assassin who would turn my life upside down.