Fractured Fear (The Devils of New York #1)

Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

ZANE

W alking away from Spencer this morning took a strength I don’t have. Each step was like walking through mud, but to keep her safe I had to keep going. Reaching down deep inside myself, I grasped the critical need I have to just exist in her vicinity and shoved it aside.

Now I’m sitting at my dismal desk, pretending to work while I wait. Waiting is my specialty. Most in my field hate stakeouts, but I enjoy them. I love the moment the fucker realizes I’m there for them . I love it even more when they run. The thrill of the chase feels like lightning coursing through my veins.

Patiently, I’ll sit here until those two fuckups walk through the door. They were called out for a convenient store robbery first thing this morning but should be back soon.

I feel the grin stretch the skin around my mouth as I pretend to scan Ava Thomas’ case file. Probably shouldn’t be caught smiling while going over the details of a girl’s abduction.

“I’m looking over the Gray file and I’m not so sure it’s connected to the string of kidnappings we’ve been looking into,” Liam says, taking my attention away from my objective.

My background check on Liam came back clean. No skeletons in his closet. Not even a fucking parking ticket. He’s practically a boy scout. He grew up on a cul-de-sac in Pennsylvania, did well in school, brings a bouquet of flowers to his wife every Friday. Even if he isn’t able to come home, he will have them delivered. An all around good guy. The poster child for American living.

In response to Liam’s observation, I just raise my eyebrows. The newbie stammers and tilts his head back down to the file in his hand. Poor guy will get used to my nonverbal communication. It makes him nervous, but oh well. Not my problem he scares easily. I just hope he doesn’t get this worked up when truly under pressure, when bullets start flying. That’s how I will know if the kid is worth his salt.

“Ms. Gray recalls seeing a sedan, but Ava’s sister said she saw a white van, and the guy didn’t use chloroform. He didn’t even cover her mouth. It’s like he knew no one would come help her. Whoever this guy is, he's cocky.”

I nod my head. I already put that together, but I can tell he’s onto something. The way his brow furrows and his mouth tightens into a straight line as he looks over Spencer's statement, which I had her sign this morning before I left, suggests he is connecting the dots.

“Ms. Gray’s attacker is confident as if he’s done this before. She doesn’t mention his steps faltering or anything. He grabbed her, attempted to subdue her, and went straight for his car. As if it’s a routine.”

“Keep going, James,” I encourage him.

“We should reach out to other precincts or maybe even the FBI and see if they have any open cases with a similar MO.”

Bingo. Exactly what I was thinking.

“I agree. Run with it.”

“What?” he asks, taken aback.

“It’s your idea. Follow it. In fact,” I reach into my top drawer and pull out one of Ash’s cards and hand it to a stunned Liam. I’m not proud that I do this, but it comes in handy and I don’t do it often. “Here. My friend works out of the FBI New York field office. Start there.”

Liam stares at me, then the card, then back to me with his mouth wide open ready to catch some flies.

“Uh. Yeah. I’ll get right on it.”

Newbie needs to learn that I’m sure as fuck not going to hold his hand. Besides, I hate calling the New York field office.

“Where is the lab on the DNA test?”

“My friend actually asked for the evidence to be released into FBI custody. He thinks the attacker may be a serial. They’re running it themselves.”

Liam frowns. “And I’m still pursuing my idea why?”

“We’re thorough.”

“Okay. I’ll make some calls.”

“You do that,” I glance towards the doors and lo and behold, Fuckup one and Fuckup two stroll through the door like they’re hot shit. “And while you do, I have a few things to follow up on. I probably won’t be back in until tomorrow.”

I stand up and think about patting him on the back to let him know he’s doing a good job, but the thought makes my shoulders tense. Instead I say, “Good work.”

That’ll have to do.

I shoot off a quick text to Rio and put on a charming smile while I approach the dimwitted duo ready to enact my plan.

“Hey guys.” I give a quick chin lift in greeting. Troy is a well-built man who clearly spends too much time in the gym ogling his muscles. His fake tan and overly white teeth make for one very punchable face. Dustin, aka Fuckup two, is practically Troy’s twin minus a few inches in height.

“Hey Kingston! How’s it going?” Troy says, but clearly doesn’t give a fuck about my answer.

“Can’t complain.” I hate small talk, but sometimes you have to blend in.

“Yeah, I heard about your arrest of the Midnight Rose Rapist. Nice work. Wish we could’ve been on the takedown team,” Dustin chimes in.

“Yeah, couldn’t have done it without you boys in blue. I can’t take credit for all the leg work.”

With shitheads like these you have to stroke their slimy ego. They think because they were the star quarterback in high school, but gave up their scholarship to a big university to be a cop, that somehow means they are above everyone else. Unfortunately for them, that’s not how this works. They peaked in high school and are unable to hold onto that fame so they carry themselves like they’re gods in hopes that someone will recognize their perceived greatness.

What a joke.

There’s a reason both of them have been passed up multiple times for promotions and never get tasked with the big assignments.

“I need your help with a case. My witness is out in the Bronx, and I need to go interview her again. My partner is…” I trail off and chuckle to make them think I’m a member of their cool boys club. “Let’s just say he’s new.” I almost feel bad for making them think Liam isn’t capable, but I will do and say whatever is necessary to make Spencer safe. Even if it hurts someone’s ego along the way. Not my problem.

Troy perks up and nods at my implication that I trust them to have my back more than I trust my own partner. “We got your back.”

Yeah, I’m sure you do. More like you’d like to use my back for target practice with your knife.

“Thanks, man,” I give them an appreciative smile and fake sigh in relief. More stroking of the slimy ego. “Follow me in your squad car. No lights or sirens, no matter what. I’ll text you the details of the case on the way.”

As I turn to walk away, I let the mask fall off. I despise men like them. They took the oath to protect and serve, but it means absolutely nothing to them. They dishonor it and are a disgrace to those who have lost their lives doing this job.

I park my car a few doors down and glance in my rearview mirror making sure these idiots in blue follow my lead. The drive here was slow. I wanted to make sure they didn’t get lost in all the traffic.

I get out of my car and wait for them by my door. Rio replied to my text on my way here saying he was ready.

“Hey, Kingston. We never got the case details,” Troy says as he walks to me with what he thinks is swagger. His hands rest lazily on his utility belt.

“My bad,” I pretend to pull up my texts to them, but really I opened Solitaire. “Oh, the text didn’t send. I’ll resend it real quick.” Again, pretending to send a text when really I’m continuing my game from earlier. “It’s sending. Come on. Let’s get inside.”

I walk up those familiar concrete steps and knock. Rio opens the door with a jerk.

Fucking door always getting stuck.

“What can I do for you boys?” he asks.

“Detective Kingston with the 10th. These are Officers Troy and Dustin. We’re here to talk to Carmen. Is she around?” I respond.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on in.”

Rio opens the door wider and stands to the side while I lead Fuckup one and Fuckup two into the living room.

“Where is?—”

Before Troy can finish, I spin on my heel and punch him in the face, knocking him out cold. Fucking pansy ass. Can’t even take a hit like a man.

Dustin reaches for his gun. Before he can unholster it, Rio is right there with a red brick and hits Dustin over the head.

“Where the fuck did you get that?’ I ask.

“From Mrs. Romero’s yard,” he answers matter-of-factly.

“You haven’t been there for days. When did you take it?”

“When I was there last. She had bricks surrounding her planters and she said she wanted them gone so I took a few. Want one?”

“You have more than one?” I ask confused as fuck.

“Of course. I got one for each of us. There’s even one for Spencer.”

“Why?” I throw my hands up in frustration.

“I think the appropriate response would be ‘Thanks Rio! That’s so kind of you to think of me while shopping for weapons.’”

“You weren’t shopping for weapons! You were in an old lady’s yard!”

“Shhhh,” he exaggerates the shushing by putting a finger to his lips. “Lower your voice, amigo . You’ll wake our guests before we even have time to show them to their room.”

I shake my head and grab Troy under his armpits to haul him down to the basement.

Adding the basement to the place was not easy. Especially when Asher decided we could do it ourselves because we didn’t need anyone else in our business. I agreed with his reasoning, but I campaigned for buying a warehouse by the docks. We eventually got the warehouse and occasionally use the space to interrogate , but we still use the basement of our brownstone every now and then.

Now is one of those times.

“ Estás gordo, hijo de puta .”

I grunt in agreement with Rio. Troy is too jacked. I’m sure half of his gym time is spent staring at women who don’t want the attention.

When we finally strip them down to their underwear and have them secured to the metal chairs, Rio shoots me a shit eating grin.

This is his domain.

He tosses ice cold water on the sleeping beauties, and they sputter awake.

“What the fuck!” Troy roars as he jerks on the handcuffs that have him strapped to the armrests.

Good thing we soundproofed this baby.

Dustin is still dazed and confused. He looks around, his eyes unfocused. When he tries to stand, he finally becomes aware of his situation.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Rio says with a maniacal smile.

The hairs on Dustin’s arm visibly stand on end. Rio is a pro at putting the fear of God in people. Especially when we need answers.

“Kingston, what the fuck is going on?” Troy barks.

Half of getting information depends on how you approach the suspect. I learned how to interrogate someone on the job, but Rio taught me how to use pain and fear to get the answers faster.

Troy thinks he’s the top dog in the room. Dustin already knows where he stands in the pecking order. The question is, do we break Troy and scare Dustin further or do we just go for Dustin?

I eye Rio quizzically, he turns his eyes to Troy.

Breaking the dickwad it is.

We have done this enough that we don’t need words to communicate here. It’s even more fun with Asher.

I roll up my sleeves, undo my tie, and set it gently on the metal tray next to Rio’s knives, drawing their attention to the sharp, shiny objects.

Oh, how Rio loves his knives.

Then I grab the wood baseball bat and flip it over in my hand a few times.

Cliche? Yes.

Badass? Also, yes.

All of my movements are intentional. We need them to know we mean business. We don’t have time for a drawn out questioning. We need answers. Fast.

“Tell me, Troy. Are you a betting man?” I continue playing with the bat.

“What?”

“I think my question was quite clear, don’t you?” I ask the rhetorical question to Rio.

“ Sí .”

“What’s your vice? Blackjack? Russian roulette?”

Troy turns red like he is ready to blow.

“Okay, I’ll answer for you. Poker. Am I right?”

Still no answer.

“It’s okay. I know I’m right, and judging by the second mortgage that you took out on your house, I’m willing to bet your poker face is shit. Does Denise know?”

“You leave my wife out of this, you bastard!” He bellows.

Rio picks up a carving knife and approaches Troy. Dustin looks on, quivering like the little bitch he is.

“Ahhh. I’m guessing she has no idea,” Rio says, his smile never faltering.

“Is that what this is about, huh? Rico sent you to rough me up? He must really be scraping the bottom of the barrel.”

Rio lets out a laugh that promises pain.

“This puto thinks this is about the money he owes the MS-13,” Rio says to me. When he turns back to Troy he slices across his bare chest and blood immediately blooms from the wound. Troy hisses, clenching his teeth.

“No no, amigo . We just need you to know that we know everything about you. We know about the strip club you visit once a week, the gambling debt. We even know how little Mary likes her waffles in the morning,” Rio says threateningly. We would never hurt his daughter, but he doesn’t need to know that. “We’re here because you fucked with some case files.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Troy says through a locked jaw.

Rio brings the knife down hard on Troy’s thigh causing a scream to escape his throat.

“ Cállate . That wasn’t even that bad. Suck it up.” Rio rolls his eyes at Troy as his head hangs forward and sweat drips from his forehead.

Rio slaps Troy to get his attention. “Don’t you dare pass out on me.”

Troy just grunts and Dustin’s minor shivering has turned into a full body shake.

When Rio turns his attention to Dustin, the bitch sings like a canary.

“We were just told to make some stalking reports disappear. It was no big deal. The chick wasn’t in any real danger. The texts weren’t even threatening.”

“Shut up, Dustin!”

“Oh no, Dustin, keep going. Tell us all about this chick ,” Rio says as he glides the sharp blade down Dustin’s arm leaving a red line behind on his skin.

“W-we just threw ‘em in the trash.”

Lie. They’re not in the trash.

“Why?” I finally chime in.

Dustin bites his lip, afraid to answer.

“Don’t you dare!” Troy threatens Dustin.

“We d-didn’t have a choice,” he utters, still shaking like a fucking leaf.

I step in with the bat raised over my head and bring it down on Dustin’s forearm. Not hard enough to break the bone. I think. Dustin howls and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Why!” I yell.

“They have pictures of us. I swear we didn’t know they were?—”

“I said shut up!”

Rearing my fist back, I nail Troy in the eye. He fucking did this. He didn’t protect my Angel. With those thoughts, I let another fist fly. Then another. And another. Soon Troy’s face is nothing but a swollen melon resting on a set of shoulders.

Turning back to a wide-eyed Dustin I grunt out, “Why?”

“Euphoria. A strip joint up in Yonkers. They employed some minors and got pictures of us with them,” my face turns murderous and Dustin rambles on in defense. “I swear! I didn’t know. I got a little girl of my own. I would never. I’m no pedo.”

“Now tell me where the files really are,” Rio demands as he settles the knife over Dustin’s right pinky finger.

“They’re in our squad car!”

Even though he answered, Rio doesn’t care. He still presses down and severs the finger from Dustin’s hand. Dustin wails, stirring Troy slightly.

“Do you know what we do to men who touch what they shouldn’t?”

“No, man. I swear! I swear! We didn’t know!” Dustin pleads.

“Too late, amigo .” Then Rio takes each and every one of Dustin’s fingers ensuring he can ever again touch what he shouldn’t.

Troy is now fully awake. He can barely open his eyes thanks to me, but the split knuckles I sustained were worth it. Even though I can hardly see his eyes through the already swollen skin, I can still see them darting all over the place, looking for a way out.

I lean down and whisper in his ear, “You’re never leaving this place. Say your peace, motherfucker. Your last words are mine.”

There’s a slight tremor in his hands anticipating what Rio took from Dustin.

“I’m not telling you shit.” He manages to mumble.

“Loyal to the end. How cute. But your loyalty is misplaced. No one can protect you. You’re going to die here trying to honor the men who blackmailed you. I’m going to find those pictures and I’m going to send them to your wife so she knows exactly who you are.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He hardens his voice, but I don’t give it any stock.

“Wouldn’t I? It wasn’t hard to find out everything I needed to know about you. Just a few keystrokes and I had all I needed. Your wife is going to move on and find a real man . Your daughter will call someone else dad . They will forget all about you. Just like everyone else. It’ll be like you never existed.”

“I knew you were crazy. I told Captain not to let you transfer. You think I don’t know about you? The fucked up detective who won’t even shake someone’s hand?” I don’t flinch at his muffled words.

He’s poking at old wounds that have long since healed. I am who I am. I have no apologies to make.

“Good to know Captain thinks your opinion is shit, seeing how he accepted my transfer and welcomed me with open arms.”

Rio leans over Troy after discarding Dustin’s fingers on the floor and says, “That’s enough out of you, grumpy pants. Your turn. Time for your punishment.”

Troy’s energy renews and he thrashes violently, shaking the chair side to side. I move behind him to stabilize it.

“Stop moving. You’re going to ruin my work,” Rio chastises, but Troy continues to flail about. “Fine! See if I care if your stumpy hands look horrible afterwards!”

“No! No! Nooo!” Troy yells, but Rio isn’t deterred. He slices off each finger slowly, drawing it out to the end.

With both guys passed out, Rio stands and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. “Whew. Hard work,” he looks down and notices a speck of blood. “Aw shit! Spencer really liked this shirt.”

“You’ve never worn that around her.”

“Well it would have been her favorite when I wore it today.”

Tired of his antics and ready to move onto the next step, I stand in front of Troy with my gun raised and say, “Bye bye, motherfucker.”

His brain matter blows out the back of his skull as I shoot him right between the eyes.

“Oh, come on! I’m not scrubbing this place again. You get clean-up duty this time.”