Ryker (Hope City #6) - Kris Michaels Page 0,65

Peña. These guys could be them. Same size, but I don’t know.”

“Fuck. All right. Have you called your father?”

“No. I haven’t. I don’t want to make that call.” Brock’s voice shook. “They are letting me stay, but for obvious reasons, it isn’t my case. Get here before they pull me away. I’ll call Dad.” Brock ended the call.

“What did he say?” Brody swerved around one of the few vehicles on the road that didn’t bother to get the hell out of his way.

Ryker explained what Brock had relayed. “She’s not dead.” Brody spoke the words, probably to reassure himself.

Ryker nodded in agreement and ground his teeth together. If she’d killed one of those bastards, the other would make her pay, and from the horror stories that Mouse had told him, he prayed for that bastard to live.

They slid to a stop at the entrance to the alleyway and both of them sprinted under the yellow crime scene tape. Brody flashed his badge, stopping the uniforms on the perimeter from giving chase. They followed the cleared area to the back door of the restaurant.

Ryker tried to breathe on the way to Brie’s office. It wasn't working. An iron fist squeezed his chest with relentless pressure. Brock stood beside another detective. “Play it again.” Ryker tried again to control his breathing as he focused on the screen.

“Motherfucker. That’s Peña,” Brody said, his chest heaving just like Ryker’s.

Ryker pointed to the second man who moved forward.

“Yes, that's Peña. This man is Rubio. I don’t have a clue who the blond man is.” The video showed Rubio put a bullet in the man’s brain. “Was.”

Ryker watched as Rubio bolted down the alley and Brie struggled with Peña. There was no way to tell what happened, but Peña went down and Brie flew toward the back door of the restaurant. That’s when Rubio tackled her. Both he and Brody winced at the violent way her head hit the pavement. Fuck.

“Dad’s on his way,” Brock said as the video stopped.

Ryker’s phone vibrated, and he glanced down at it. An unknown number. “Unknown number. Keep quiet.” Everyone in the room stopped and waited.

He swiped the face. “Captain Ryker Terrell.”

“She is alive.”

“Who is this and how can I know for sure you’re not lying?” People were scrambling quietly to put a trace on his telephone number.

The cool, cultured voice with only the slightest trace of an accent said, “I am a businessman who has a vested interest in your woman staying alive.”

“Businessman. You mean competitor.” Ryker glanced at Brody who gave him a hand signal telling him they’d started a trace on his number.

“I wasn’t until tonight.”

“Ah, then someone who is rising from among the ranks.”

“Someone that knows business doesn’t benefit from a war with the police department.”

“You think if you give her back unharmed that I won’t pursue you?”

There was a laugh at the other end of the line. “I would be deeply disappointed if you did not chase. That is the game, after all. Now, I must go liberate your woman. Be at the Pier Point dock in forty-five minutes. Come alone or she dies. I don’t want a war, Captain, but I will fight one if need be.”

Ryker swore when he realized the man had disconnected. It hadn’t been long enough for a trace, had it?

Brody listened on his phone and closed his eyes. He shook his head as he disconnected the call.

“Damn it.”

“You can’t go.” The detective that Brock was standing by spoke for the first time since they’d entered the office.

“The hell I can’t.” Ryker pushed his way from the office.

The cop grabbed his good arm. “He’ll kill both of you.”

“He may.” Ryker jerked his arm from the man’s grasp. “Brody, Brock, with me.”

“You can’t go. This is my investigation.” The man damn near screamed the command.

Ryker spun on the man and let the rage he felt loose. “No! The double homicide outside was your investigation. It is tied to a JDET case. You have zero authority over a damn thing involving it, so stand the fuck down before I put you on your ass!”

“Captain Terrell!”

He spun at his name, barely controlling the rage seething through him. Commissioner King strode through the front of the restaurant. “Brody, Brock, you and the Captain meet me in the front.”

“But–” Ryker motioned to his phone.

“I know you’re not questioning my order, are you, Captain?”

“No, sir.” He fumed and marched to the front of the restaurant. He could hear Chauncey talking, but he didn’t give a fuck.