he wants to know something, he can find it. Anyway, he said that Rich had called fifty times in the last two days. And yes, my married name was Clarkson, my maiden name was Booth and I changed it to Redman."
"Why Redman?"
"It was on the advertisement I saw when I was completing the paperwork. I think it was a pest control ad."
"No shit?"
"No shit. Pest control. I needed to control Rich. It made sense at the time."
Brock chuckled. "Well damn, love that rationale. Okay, so Rich was pumping his brother for information on you?"
"Probably, I didn't ask, but that is a logical conclusion."
"Do we need to get a restraining order?"
"Nah. If he shows up, he's not going to be stalking me. He'll try to kill me. But I'm not a defenseless prostitute with a drug problem. I'll take him out or make him wish he were dead before he kills me."
"If there is an imminent threat, you need to let Davidson know."
"I can do that."
"What can I do for you?"
"This is good. Just... this."
"You got it." He glanced over and winked. "Now about those taxi companies?"
She chuckled and woke her phone. "On it." God, he was the perfect partner. No drama. No posturing, he-man shit. Find the facts, decide a course of action, and move forward. She hit the hyperlinked number on the web page and put the phone to her ear. Yet another reason she was attracted to this man.
11
His jaw was clenched so damn tight, his teeth were breaking. That bastard had better not show up in Hope City or he'd wish he was still in jail. He had a name now, Rich Clarkson, and Brock had connections—connections within Guardian which meant he had global reach. If he needed to do it, he'd use them to find this asshole. Kallie didn't need to worry about this son of a bitch, but he wasn't going to overstep and take away her control of the situation either. It killed him to be still, not to act. The fucker had already killed in cold blood.
He listened as Kallie ran through the taxis companies and then called the car service Treyson used. "That was a strike out. One had no fares to the area. The other one refuses to go to the warehouse areas due to an incident last year. One of their drivers was killed?"
"Yeah, a strung-out kid killed the driver and injured the passenger. He was looking for money. Found a fuck-ton more than that. He shot one of the local gang lord's old lady. She had a flat tire and had hired a taxi to take her to meet her man. We arrested the kid. He was tried, convicted, and remanded. He didn't make it three weeks in the pen."
"What happened?"
He parked at the precinct and killed the engine. "Killed by one of Pe?a's crew. The man, Sanchez, who took the kid out, is Pe?a’s enforcer behind bars. Sanchez is doing life, times seven."
"All because the punk was doped up and in search of money for drugs."
"Yeah. I don't know how my brother works the J-DET team. You stop one hemorrhage, and another starts."
"You know he’d say the same thing about what you do." Kallie shouldered the car door, opening it against the wind.
He followed her rushed hustle into the building. "Probably." They climbed the stairs and both diverted to the break room for coffee.
"I'll go talk to Davidson now and let him know about my dick-wad ex." She didn't wait for an answer, but turned on her heel, coffee in hand, and headed to the Lieutenant's office.
His phone vibrated in his coat as he crossed the bullpen. He grabbed it from his pocket and answered, "King."
"Found your McLaren... kinda." Brody's voice fought against the sound of the wind through the mic on his phone.
"Where are you?"
"West of town by the Cascade River. Your car was found totaled."
"How?"
"Probably when it launched from Skyline Ridge and hit the river. It lodged hard. Airbags deployed. The tow truck just brought it up. The interior is filled with sediment. If there was any evidence in that vehicle, it's buried deep, but I'm having it sent to the lab using a priority tag on it based on the case. If there is anything in it, it is going to be under about five hundred pounds of muck."
"Shit."
"A succinct summation."
He looked up and watched Kallie stride across the open area. "So, either the killer took the car for a joyride and dumped it, or