London sat on the couch, sipped from her glass of wine, and looked around her. Heath’s living room and kitchen were crowded with family and friends. In the week after the shooting at A New Chapter, life had indeed been hectic filled with police interviews and visits from family, but if all went to plan, tomorrow she and Heath would have their first date.
A Sunday night date. Heath had the following Monday off work. And Tuesday. In fact, the whole month, courtesy of a suspension for engaging with Brannigan without clearance from his sergeant.
“Of all the Saturday mornings for me to have off work, and I miss the shootout at the OK freaking corral.” Cleo plunked down beside her on the couch, her eyes twinkling. “How am I ever going to get a date with a sexy first responder when I’m not there during all those emergencies to faint in his arms?”
London scoffed. “Firstly, you can have your pick of first responders any time you like with Heath and my family’s connections, and secondly, you usually like the intellectual, suave types, not blue jeans and Henleys.”
“Well, I’m still miffed. I would have thrown Angelique into the firing line and saved us both.” Cleo’s brilliant smile was shameless.
London burst out laughing, earning her smiles from her mom, dad and Mrs. Fox, who were gathered in front of Heath’s gorgeous green tiled fireplace. Her dad sent her a wink before turning back to his wife.
“She was something, but I got my revenge in the end.” Pictures of Angelique being led away in cuffs had somehow, though not by London’s hand, made it to social media, and her actions of not cooperating with the authorities during a siege had earned her wide condemnation.
“How’s Heath taking his suspension?” Cleo glanced toward Heath, who stood with Seth, Harper, and Aidan. “Mercy said Derek’s been in a bad mood since the incident.
Derek was a puzzle. She wasn’t sure what was up. He’d come around to Heath’s home a couple of times, had hugged her and was happy she was okay, but he’d withdrawn, keeping his own counsel. Even Heath had said the guy wouldn’t say what was wrong.
“Heath’s okay. He says he wouldn’t do anything differently and won’t be put in a corner. Really, when you consider Henry’s video shows a deputy chief as well as a lieutenant running to get into a car to chase people, I can’t blame him.” She’d wondered if he’d be tempted to resign and work with Adam.
Brannigan had left a detailed statement on his desk, outlining the few but key personnel who were a dishonor to the force and some of their actions. He stated he’d planned to commit his own “death by cop” scenario at A New Chapter. He knew his days were numbered after the problems with getting Heath and Derek to accept Vargas was the killer in the double homicide when the evidence didn’t materialize.
The organization that held such power over the lieutenant was getting restless. Three murder cases all tied together and he was supposed to make them all go smoothly. But the opposite was the reality.
“I can’t believe the answer to Henry having your pen was so simple.” Cleo shook her head. “He simply picked it up and shoved it in his pocket.”
London sighed. “That’s the best guess. Brannigan left a note on his desk stating the killer had knocked Henry out and was searching through Henry’s pockets, looking for his phone that would have the video and came across the pen. For whatever reason, the bastard used that to kill Henry.” She gripped her glass of wine a little tighter, refusing to picture the atrocity.
“Jesus.” Cleo shook herself and squeezed London’s knee. “Enough of this malarkey. Let’s go celebrate that you and Heath are happy, and I get to come over and check out all the gorgeous macho men on parade.”
“Hey, I do what I can for a friend.”
“Appreciated.”
Cleo drifted off toward Jinx and Mercy, and London moved up to Heath, who tucked her against his side.
“Everything okay, Red?”
“Perfect.”
He made a slow study of her face and smiled. “Indeed it is.”
****
He sat at the table, the elegant breakfast served on the finest silverware and bone china left untouched. His hand clenched the fork until his knuckles turned white.
The news report on his laptop gave only the bare facts, but the long lens photo taken by some paparazzi filled in the blanks.
The photograph revealed a partially covered woman’s body, apparently recovered from Lake Washington. A naked leg and the back of her head were visible, and debris—leaves and such—was caught up in the long brown hair.
Police were running ID checks, since she was found naked and no clothing or purse had yet been recovered.
But she wasn’t anonymous. She was his. His. And the people who had in any way contributed to her demise would pay.
After all, he’d made that promise to her as he’d thrown her body in the lake.
He was a man who always kept his promises.
THE END
The Sons of Sydney series continues
with Riding Justice
Zach and Jinx’s story.