Promise Renewed
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Promise Renewed - Mitzi Pool Bridges
love.
Chapter One
The cell phone rang once, twice, three times.
Detective Darin Callahan squinted at the clock before voicemail could pick up. It was late. No, early. His family? Partner? Didn’t matter. Two in the morning meant bad news.
Callahan,
he rumbled, his voice rough with sleep, his mind already on alert. After eight years with Houston’s Police Department, he’d learned to come awake fast and think faster.
I have proof,
his partner, Tom Hunter whispered. You won’t believe it until you see it with your own eyes. Meet me at the storage lot on Twentieth ASAP.
Wait,
Darin barked as silence filled his ear. He called his partner back. It went straight to voicemail. Damn.
Darin rolled out of bed, threw on his clothes, boots, and Stetson, and was out the door in less than two minutes. Every thirty seconds, he rang Hunter’s cell.
Damn you, Hunter. What are you up to?
Whatever it was had to be work related. Nothing else made sense. He’d been partnered with Hunter in the narcotics division of HPD for the past three years. They were good together. Could almost read each other’s mind. But lately, his partner had been acting strange. Secretive even. As if he were onto something big. Questioning him brought nothing but grunts and a vague promise to clear things up soon. Whatever the hell that meant.
Darin peeled out of his driveway and exceeded the speed limit by a good twenty miles, arriving at the location in less than fifteen minutes. Hunter’s pickup was parked a block from the storage lot. Darin rolled in behind him. Not knowing what was going down, he turned off his lights, took his Glock out of its holster. At first glance the place looked as deserted as it should at this hour of the morning. Where the hell was Hunter? Darin punched redial. Still nothing. For a moment he sat there and scoped out the area. If Hunter wanted him here, there had to be a damned good reason. His partner was one of the best cops Darin had ever known. He trusted Hunter like he trusted his brothers. Lately though, he had been acting out of character. But that didn’t change the fact that if Tom Hunter said this was important, it was.
Darin got out of his pickup and walked to the gate. It wasn’t locked. Curious. He held his Glock with one hand, his cell phone in the other.
Except for the security lights the place was dark and quiet. Not knowing what to expect, he crept forward. As he edged around a corner, dim light from inside one of the spaces allowed him to see a large truck similar to a twenty-four-foot box truck backed up to door number seven.
Where was Hunter?
For a moment, he stood there, watching, waiting, listening. Taking a quick breath he inched toward the truck. What are you involved in, Hunter? And where the hell are you?
Darin was edgy now. He had to find Hunter. Fast.
He glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see his partner sneak up on him, fill him in on what was going down. There was no one.
Inside the space whispered voices drew him closer.
Then all hell broke loose.
Shots! One after another.
Darin’s heart stopped. Then started an erratic beat. His fingers flew as he dialed 911. Shots fired,
he whispered and gave his badge number. Another officer on the scene, but out of contact.
Procedure was to wait for backup, but Hunter was here. Gunshots meant he was in trouble. With no other choice Darin put his cell in his pocket, two-handed the Glock, and crept forward.
Though his view to the inside was blocked by the truck, he could hear frantic movement and excited voices. What had just happened?
Still no Hunter.
Darin scanned the area again. Nothing moved outside of number seven. He dared not call out. He had to get closer. Leaving the safety of the truck, he dashed across the open space to the side of the door. There, he leaned against the metal building and caught his breath.
By now his hands were slick with sweat, his heart leaping out of his chest. Who fired the shots? What was going down? Darin was working in the dark both figuratively and literally. He hated the feeling. Hunter knew that, so why hadn’t he clued him in?
A man stepped out the door and looked around. Darin blended into the shadows. The man’s silhouette, his slim build, were clear in the dim light. The guy had on a baseball cap. His shirttail hung out over his jeans. Then he stepped back inside.
The voices had quieted now, but still no Hunter.
Darin had to find out what was going on. One quiet step at a time he made his way down the wall to the open door. Activity. Even more hurried now. Where were the cops? Taking a deep breath, he stuck his head around the doorframe. And froze. The fifteen-by-twenty-foot space was being emptied of bales of marijuana. Men with red handkerchiefs over their faces were carting them to the back end of a large box truck as fast as they could. There was a stack of boxes on the floor. One of them split open and white powder spilled forth. Damn,
he whispered. H.
Only the man whose silhouette he’d seen earlier wore a long shirt over jeans and was gesturing to the others to hurry. Who were these guys?
He jerked his head back. If he ever needed help it was now. Little wonder Hunter had called him. But why not call the captain and have him raid the place? It didn’t make sense.
None of this made sense. What the hell was Hunter doing here alone? Where was he?
Still no sirens.
Sweat pored off him as if he were in a sauna. He ran first one hand then the other down his pants leg. Was that a groan?
Hunter?
Had to be. Darin would get the drop on these guys, arrest them, and hold them until the cavalry arrived.
Cop training urged him to wait for backup. Another low groan topped the training. His Glock leading the way, Darin stepped through the doorway.
****
Lights blinded him. When he attempted to sit up strong hands gently pushed him back. Take it easy,
a firm female voice ordered. It came from a great distance, another planet maybe.
Hunter?
His voice was a hoarse whisper. Is he all right?
No answer.
He struggled to a sitting position only to end up putting a hand to his head. Had the damned building fallen on him? What the hell happened?
That’s what I want to know.
Darin looked up. Against the glare of blinking red and blue lights, Captain Wells looked down at him, a frown etched on his face. With a moan, Darin fell back to the ground.
An ambulance peeled away, its sirens screaming. Darin squinted up at his captain. Hunter?
A brief nod.
Shot?
Another nod.
Shit!
What happened here?
A young woman in a crisp cotton shirt with an EMT emblem on the sleeve told the captain, Not now. This man has a concussion. We’re transporting him to Memorial Northwest. You can question him there.
Darin could have kissed her. He didn’t want to answer the captain’s questions. Not that he knew anything. He knew less than nothing. He did know that somehow, someway, Hunter had tracked millions in drugs to this very spot. Even in Darin’s confused state, he knew things like that didn’t happen overnight. It took weeks, sometimes months to pinpoint this big a haul. So why hadn’t Hunter clued the team in? What was really going on here?
Less than five minutes later, Darin was in the back of an ambulance with an IV in one arm, a blood pressure cuff on the other, his Stetson laying on his chest.
The EMT grinned down at him. You’re going to be fine. Just a big knot on the head.
Must have hit me with a sledge hammer.
His words were slurred, as if his tongue didn’t remember how to function.
I’m sure it felt like it.
But Darin didn’t hear. He drifted between sleep and unconsciousness, oblivious to his surroundings, unmindful of the cost of tonight’s venture.
The next time he opened his eyes, he did so without his head pounding quite so hard. Now it felt like a bad Excedrin headache. One that would go away with the prescribed number of little white pills.
Are you all right?
TJ? What the hell are you doing here?
Why had they called his sister? Was he hurt more seriously than he thought?
Douglas is here, too. He went for coffee.
Damn! Did they tell you I was going to die or something?
He wasn’t ready to go just yet. Hell, he was only thirty-two. He still had a lot of living to do. He struggled to a sitting position. Tell me you didn’t call Mom? Or Donovan and Dugan? Tell me they’re not coming up from the ranch.
His sister gave him a sheepish grin. You know I did.
At the alarm on his face, she laughed. Don’t worry. I convinced them you would live. After all, your head was bashed in. Any other part of your body, I might worry.
He lay back with a groan. Thank God. It wasn’t as if he didn’t love his family. It was that right now all he wanted to know was what had happened. Most of all he wanted to know if Hunter was all right.
Douglas walked in, took one look at Darin, and stalked to the bed. What the hell were you doing last night? According to your boss you went against every protocol in the book. Do you need a lawyer?
Why the hell would I need a lawyer?
If he did, his brother, Douglas was the best. But why the question?
Douglas handed TJ a Styrofoam cup of coffee, took a sip from his own.
What about me? I could use some of that stuff.
Besides, he was hungry. What time is it?
Almost noon.
Shit!
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, only to have the room swim in circles. What the hell?
TJ eased him back. You’re not going anywhere with a concussion.
She handed him a glass of water. Here.
He took a long swallow. Better. The room stopped doing the merry-go-round dance.
Do either of you know what happened last night?
That’s what we would like to know,
Douglas said.
A member of the food service staff marched in. Darin eyed her as she placed a covered dish on the tray and left.
TJ lifted the cover. Ummm. Smells good.
Smells awful. I want real food, not garbage.
You haven’t looked at it.
I can smell.
He turned to Douglas. "Get me a burger and fries.ˮ
You can get a burger and fries here,
TJ put in, ever willing to play devil’s advocate. See? Here’s a menu.
Darin waved it aside. I want one with Black Angus beef. Rare. I’m starving.
He’s fine,
TJ said with a smile.
I want food, something to drink besides water, and I want to know what happened last night. Where’s my partner? Is he all right? Did the squad find the drugs?
What drugs?
Douglas asked, his demeanor turning from brother to lawyer in a mini-second.
Darin hadn’t been dreaming when he saw the truck being loaded with millions of dollars in drugs. What was the deal?
Darin put a foot on the floor and stood. It took a minute or so for the dizziness to subside. An IV kept him from going too far. Ring for the nurse. I want out of this thing.
As if she’d heard, a nurse walked in and frowned. You shouldn’t be up.
He’s stubborn,
TJ said.
Take out the IV. I’m leaving,
Darin told the nurse.
Not unless the doc says you can,
she said, reaching to take his arm. Now let’s get you back in bed.
I’m not going back to bed. Take it out or I take it out myself.
Aren’t we in a mood?
the nurse said before she whipped around and walked out the door.
How hard can this be?
Darin took the tape off his arm that held the IV in place.
No!
TJ cried out. You could bleed.
The nurse walked back in with the doctor in tow.
I hear you’re ready to leave us.
I’ll be fine. Just get me out of this thing. I have questions that need answered. And I won’t get them in a damned bed.
The doctor, who looked to be right out of high school, nodded to the nurse. Frowning, she removed the IV, placed a band-aid over the puncture, and strode out of the room.
I think you hurt her feelings.
The doctor chuckled.
Didn’t mean to,
Darin said. But I have to get back to work.
The doctor checked Darin’s eyes, the back of his head. You’ll be fine. Just don’t over-do today.
No problem,
Darin said to the doc’s retreating back as he walked over to the closet, found his clothes and started to dress. He looked over at TJ. She just grinned. He turned his back, yanked on his jeans, whipped off the silly green hospital gown and put on his shirt.
Where do you think you’re going?
Douglas asked.
Where do you think? Tell me what you meant when you asked, what drugs? Behind door number seven was the ultimate jackpot. Never saw anything like it.
He stopped a minute, his hand midway to closing a button. Or did they finish loading the truck and take off before the cops got there?
Don’t know a damn thing about trucks or drugs. This is what I do know. When the cops got to door number seven they found one dead cop and one with his head bashed in. Nothing else. So if you know something you want your lawyer to know you’d better start talking, because if I’m not mistaken the nurse who just walked out the door is on the phone to your captain.
The next person who comes in here might not be as nice as we are,
TJ added.
Dead cop?
Darin staggered back to the bed and sat down. Hunter’s dead?
Sorry, Darin. He was dead when they got there.
Douglas sat on the edge of the bed beside his brother and draped an arm across his shoulders.
Darin had heard the shots, had expected them to be from Hunter’s gun. Then remembered the groan. Hunter’s groan. Darin rubbed his head, trying to remember every detail. He’d decided to go in, swung around the corner and bam. Nothing. I never saw Hunter. The warehouse was full of drugs, both marijuana and H. There were several men carting them to a truck. They were gone?
He couldn’t believe it. Are you sure Hunter is dead?
I’m afraid so.
Darin dropped his head in his hands, fought the urge to cry. He’d been too late. He’d failed his partner. If he’d gotten there a few minutes earlier Hunter would still be alive. He sat up, rubbed his chest. He didn’t know a heart could physically hurt from shock and despair. His did.
He looked at his brother whose eyes were filled with concern. What time did the cops get there?
About fifteen minutes after you called,
Douglas said, his voice grim. It could have been you with a bullet in his head.
What had Hunter stumbled onto? Drugs for sure. Darin had seen that much. But who hit him over the head? Who killed Hunter? Whoever it was, Darin vowed to find him.
I want the story. All of it,
Douglas said, his demeanor all lawyer.
Darin looked his brother in the eye. This must be how he acted with his clients. Hell, Darin wasn’t a client. They were brothers. But Douglas must know something Darin didn’t.
Hunter is dead and a warehouse full of drugs has disappeared. Someone there killed my partner. I have no idea how or why Hunter was there in the first place.
Tell me what happened last night, Darin. From the beginning.
It’s cop stuff, Douglas. We’ll handle it.
I think you’d better tell me everything, Darin. Now.
Darin saw the concern on his brother’s face. Not just brotherly concern, but more. Why?
I caught a whiff of something earlier from your captain. It made me think they might look to you for more than an explanation.
It took an effort for Darin to hold himself in check. He made Douglas repeat what he’d just said.
It was an effort to ask, They think I had something to do with it?
They couldn’t believe such a thing. Not possible. Yet Douglas wouldn’t insist on the facts unless he thought it necessary.
Okay. Here goes.
Darin told his brother how he’d gotten Hunter’s call to meet, and everything that happened until someone bashed him in the head. How many more times would he have to tell this same story with the same outcome? He had a feeling every telling would bring on the same hurt.
That’s it. That’s all you know?
Darin didn’t like the incredulous lawyer-tone of Douglas’s voice. Afraid so.
You don’t know why Hunter called you instead of the captain? You don’t know how he knew about the warehouse space you claim was full of drugs?
"It was full of drugs. Most were in the truck when I got there. After I heard the shot I could tell they were speeding up the process. My guess is they were moving several million dollars worth. Maybe fifty million or more. And no, I don’t know how he knew about it. And I don’t understand, why didn’t he call it in? He was a damned good cop, so it doesn’t make sense. His being dead doesn’t make sense. Does Haley know? Has his family been notified?" Haley had been Hunter’s girlfriend for the past year. He’d been on the verge of asking her to marry him before he started acting so strange.
According to the chief of police, who I contacted when you were unconscious, the answer is yes. They’re taking it really hard. They have questions for you.
Darin groaned. I’m sure.
What could he tell them? How could he comfort them when there was no way to accept Hunter’s death himself?
Can you tell me anything else?
Douglas asked.
It’s all I know,
Darin snapped. Once I tell the captain what happened, he’ll understand.
I hope you’re right. But this could be a lot more serious than you think.
"More serious than my partner getting killed and millions of dollars worth of drugs heading for the street? What could be more serious?"
You being held responsible.
Darin stared into his brother’s eyes and saw that this was deadly serious. Tell me what you know.
Captain Wells let me know in no uncertain terms you were going to be looked at for this. They found no drugs in the rental space. Only your partner with a bullet in his head.
There were several shots.
Hunter’s gun was out of his holster. He got a shot off. But they didn’t find any blood other than his so he must have missed. They’re still looking.
Darin shook his head only to have the room tilt around him. This couldn’t be happening. TJ stuck a glass of water in his hand, and he took a long swallow. Do they think I hit myself in the back of the head? How could I do that?
He rubbed at the bump.
Douglas shrugged. They’ll say you did it for a cover after you shot Hunter.
For a moment, Darin was too stunned to answer. In a million years, no one would believe such a thing. Do you think I did this?
he asked stiffly.
You know better than to ask. But what if your superior does? What then?
Up until now, TJ had been silent. I’ll get Max on it. We’ll see if we can’t find who owned the space, how the drugs disappeared, and why your partner was there.
She put her arms around her older brother. We’re here for you, Darin.
His sister had been so quiet Darin had forgotten she was there. But she could help. Together, TJ and her husband Max owned a consulting firm that fought fraud in the workplace. They had a couple of private investigators they called in on occasion. Plus, they had one of the most brilliant computer gurus on the payroll Darin had ever seen. He trusted his sister and Max implicitly. But he’d never expected to need their help. Still didn’t think so.
Shaky, Darin stood.
Where do you think you’re going?
TJ asked.
I’m out of here. I want to get to the station and clear this up before it gets any worse.
Too late. The door swung open and Captain Wells, a frown on his face, walked in. Behind him was Detective Melanie Harris.
Inwardly, Darin suppressed a groan. The captain didn’t think he had to pass the likeability test with his squad and didn’t try. Melanie Harris had made detective a year ago and was placed immediately in their squad. She fit right in. Friendly, got along with the women as well as the men, and carried her weight in the field. She was an efficient cop who had stepped up to the plate from the beginning.
Captain, Melanie.
She came up to him, took his hand. I’m so sorry, Darin. Who could have done this?
He couldn’t answer.
Are you all right?
his captain asked.
Not really. My partner’s dead and I don’t know why. Millions of dollars in drugs are missing and I don’t know where. Plus, I have a headache.
He paused. I guess that about sums it up.
Do you know where your gun is? You didn’t have it when we arrived.
Darin blinked.