Chapter Eighteen #2
He looked down at her, at the uncertainty in her eyes, and some of the edge inside him shifted.
He reached for her hand without thinking, threading his fingers through hers and giving a firm squeeze.
“He’s with the FBI in Jacksonville, Florida, but has contacts all over the U.S.
He might be able to find out something we can’t. ”
She nodded, and then her gaze returned to Brian, who continued.
“Sean thinks he still has a contact in the DEA in Chicago and is trying to reach him. That’s the first thing.
“Next, I got a message to call a detective, Frank Parisi, from Chicago PD, on my work voicemail. Called him back, and the guy was a real piece of work. Talked to me like I was some backwoods sheriff with a handful of deputies and nothing better to do.”
KC huffed out a breath, irritation flaring. Yeah. He knew the type.
Dan muttered under his breath, a low grunt of agreement.
With his gaze still on Brian, KC waited for what hadn’t been said, because there was always more, and whatever came next wasn’t going to be good.
“Apparently, he got the alert when I ran Moriah’s ID,” Brian said. “Which I expected.” He lifted a hand when Moriah tensed, cutting off whatever she’d been about to say. “As I said earlier, I told him someone turned in your purse.”
She let out a breath as some of the rigidity left her shoulders, but KC didn’t miss the way her fingers stayed fisted in her lap.
“Anyway,” Brian went on, “I tried to get more out of him, but he danced around it. Said she’s not a suspect, but they’re interested in why she disappeared.” His mouth flattened as he leaned back slightly. “Didn’t say a word about her possibly being a victim. Sounded pretty damn sure she ran.”
That didn’t sit right with KC. Not even close.
Dan pinched his chin. “Maybe this detective’s tied to the dealer.”
“Maybe,” Brian said, his gaze shifting between them. “But until Sean calls back, we’re still flying blind.”
“Well,” Dan muttered, glancing toward the back door, “speak of the devil.”
KC followed his line of sight. Sean stood on the porch, juggling a carry-on, a briefcase, and a travel mug. KC jumped up, crossed the room, and pulled the door open before his brother could reach for the knob.
The youngest Malone brother stepped inside and set his bags down in time for KC to grab him in a hard hug, his hand smacking against his brother’s back. “Hey, bro. Good to see you—but you couldn’t have just called?”
Sean huffed out a laugh as he returned the embrace. “And let you guys have all the fun? Not a chance.”
Stepping back, Sean greeted Brian and Dan the same way—quick, solid hugs that needed no words—before turning his attention to the woman at KC’s side. His gaze moved over her face, professional but friendly. “You must be Moriah. Nice to meet you—though I wish it were under better circumstances.”
KC noticed a slight hesitation before she answered, her smile polite but unsure. “I wish it were, too, but it’s nice to meet you.”
Sean gave her a quick wink, then looked back at KC, the ease in his expression fading. “You’ve gotten yourself into some serious trouble, brother.”
He huffed out a breath, dragging a hand over the back of his neck. “Tell me something we don’t already know.”
They moved back to the seating around the coffee table, Sean taking a spot beside Dan on the loveseat. He leaned back, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles, relaxed on the surface but anything but underneath.
“According to my DEA contact in Chicago—John Samson—this Leo Simmons guy is tied into the local drug trade,” Sean said.
“Gets his supply from a man named Adrian Hernandez. Simmons is small-time, but Hernandez…” He paused, letting that hang a second.
“He’s the real problem. Biggest supplier of coke, opioids, heroin, ecstasy—whatever’s moving through the city.
He’s also got his hands in other operations, including prostitution.
DEA’s been building a case against him for years and thinks they’re finally getting close. ”
KC leaned forward slightly, forearms braced on his thighs, every word locking into place.
Sean’s gaze shifted to Moriah, his tone turning more deliberate. “What I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room.” He waited until she nodded before continuing. “Chicago PD may be looking at you in connection with your family’s murders. But the DEA doesn’t agree.”
KC felt Moriah go still beside him and closed his hand around hers as Sean continued.
“One of the men they’ve been watching—Hernandez’s right-hand guy, Dennis Kellerman—was seen going into your building the day it happened. Simmons was with him, along with two others. The agents didn’t think much of it at the time—they knew Simmons’s girlfriend lived there.”
“Susan,” Moriah said quietly, her voice catching before she cleared her throat. “My sister.”
Sean nodded. “I’m sorry. Anyway… when they left about a half hour later, they were in a hurry, and Simmons had blood on his shirt.
One agent stayed behind while the other kept tailing them.
The first agent was about to check the apartment when he saw you enter the building.
He knew you were Susan’s sister, so he waited.
He didn’t want you to know they’d been watching her and figured that whatever happened, you’d call 9-1-1. ”
Moriah’s fingers tightened in KC’s.
“After you came back out, clearly upset, he went upstairs and found your family. They must have used suppressors because the agents and your neighbors never heard any gunshots.” Sean’s expression turned somber.
“Samson was very sorry about your family, but the agents had no clue they were in any danger. If they did, they would’ve protected you and your family.
The DEA didn’t even know why they were killed.
I told Samson about the money and gun—so, it appears that mystery is solved for them. ”
Moriah’s bottom lip trembled. “W-why haven’t they arrested Leo and the others?”
Releasing her hand, KC slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her in. “They’re small-time, sweetheart. The DEA wants Hernandez.”
Sean’s gaze flickered toward him, then back to her. “Exactly.”
Confusion and disbelief filled her eyes. “Then why not tell the police what really happened? Let them arrest Leo.”
“Because the DEA can’t trust them. Samson thinks Hernandez has people inside the Chicago PD.”
She glanced at the others before her gaze snapped back to KC, something hard creeping into her expression. “So no one’s going to be arrested for killing my family? And I have to run again to stay alive?”
The men knew the workings of law enforcement, but as a civilian, it would be hard for her to comprehend that things had to work a certain way to reel in the bigger fish.
KC held her stare, his arm tightening slightly around her shoulders. “Hey… we’ve got you,” he said quietly. “You’re not on your own anymore.”
“I told Samson you were hidden somewhere safe, but I didn’t say where. He assured me the case was coming to a head soon, and the homicide charges would be added to a long list. Your family will get justice.”
Her shoulders sagged, and her gaze dropped. “What happened to them?” The question was barely above a whisper. “My family. Where are they?”
Sean’s tone softened, sympathy filling his eyes. “They’re still at the county morgue. Unfortunately, if no one claims them soon, they’ll be buried by the city in a potter’s field.”
The agonizing gasp that broke from her wasn’t loud, but it hit like a punch. KC’s heart and gut squeezed.
“I’m their only living relative,” she sobbed. “My mom… she was an only child.”
He held her tighter. “When this is over, I’ll make sure they’re taken care of. Properly.”
“I—I can’t ask you to do that,” she said into his shirt, her voice muffled.
“You’re not asking.” He lowered his head, his cheek brushing her hair. “I’m offering. No strings.”
She pulled back enough to look at him, her eyes wet, searching. “Th-thank you.”
“So, now what?” Brian asked. “We just wait?”
KC kept one arm around her, his hand still firm at her back, as he looked at his brothers and uncle.
“Yeah,” he said. “We wait.”