Home Is Where the Heart Is (7 page)

The men at the funeral that left her with an uneasy feeling entered her mind again. After hearing Dylan’s story, she couldn’t help but wonder if they had something to do with her dad’s death. “Remember those strange men at dad’s funeral I didn’t know? Do you think they’re involved somehow? They didn’t fit in with anyone else. It was like they were watching us. They didn’t talk to anyone or express condolences.”

Dylan put his hand on her knee, sending a tingle of warmth and nervousness through her. “I saw them talking to Tom Perry after they left the funeral,” he said. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Kyra, I promise. But you need to be really careful. Your mom, too.”

“Mom said that Tom hasn’t contacted her since the day dad was shot. She thought that was strange. Tom and Dad were close friends for years,” Kyra said. “Do you think he might know more than he lets on? I saw you find something in Dad’s files the other day. You reacted strangely to whatever you saw in one of the files you were reading. What was it?”

“I’m not sure.”

Kyra arched a brow giving Dylan a look that said don’t you dare lie to me.

He sighed. “Fine. There are several names that caught my eye from cases I worked on with Jake when we were with the department. Jake and I are checking into them now.”

“Dirty cops? You… you think a cop killed my dad?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I could be wrong, but we’re looking into it.”

Kyra knew Dylan would keep his word if it was the last thing he did. A feeling of hope washed over her. Everything was going to be okay. She appreciated everything he was doing for her and her mother and wanted to let him know she was grateful for taking the case. “Dylan, would you like to have dinner with my mom and me tonight? It won’t be much, but it’s the least we could do to repay you for all that you’re doing for us.” She hoped he would say yes.

“Sure. I haven’t had your mother’s cooking in ages.” He replied quickly, shocking even himself. Was it the good food or spending time with Kyra that made him so eager to say yes?

CHAPTER EIGHT

It was an unusually quiet day in Sizzle so Detective McAllen was out patrolling the neighborhoods. Driving around town beat sitting at his desk any old day. Just as he pulled into the parking lot of the local donut shop, his disposable cell phone rang, signaling that his appetite for bear claws and donut holes would have to wait until later.

Every time that damned cell phone rang, he was immediately filled with dread, and ignoring the call wasn’t an option; he valued his life too much to do something stupid like that. He was edgy these days, never knowing what would be requested of him next. He knew what happened when you ignored the higher-ups; he had witnessed it firsthand. There was no coming back from that kind of mistake. Grumbling at the thought of what he might be asked – told – to do, he answered the call. “Hello,” he said, making sure to not give his rank or name when he answered. The chances of the phone on the other end being in the wrong hands weren’t very high but there was no reason to take unnecessary risks. If the wrong people found out about his little side-job, there would be hell to pay.

“I have a job for you,” the voice on the phone said. “It must be done today.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Stop by and have a chat with the lawyer’s wife,” the mysterious caller on the other end of the line said. “We need to find out if John shared any information with her. Tom really fucked things up. He should have been more careful. If Mr. Michaels did share anything with his wife, remind her how important it is to keep her fucking mouth shut. Let her know that if she talks to anyone, she’ll end up like her husband. Got it?”

McAllen blanched at the request before responding, “I’ll get right on it, sir. What do I do about the girl?”

“Make sure she’s gone when you approach the mom. We don’t want more trouble on our plates.”

“Sure thing. Consider it done.”

McAllen ended the call, tossing the phone across the patrol car. This particular job wasn’t going to end well and he knew it. He had managed to stay out of the spotlight for so long only to end up being the frontline gopher for this shit? Fuck! If Liz didn’t listen to reason, she could have his head on a silver platter.

He headed for the Michaels residence, worrying the entire way as to how Liz would react to what he would say. He didn’t feel comfortable with this plan, but it must had to be done. As he neared the home, he saw that Kyra’s car wasn’t there. Many of her neighbors would be at work this time of day so maybe he could get in and out without being noticed. He pulled up near the house and parked the car, looking around nervously as he knocked on the front door and waited for Liz to answer. Things could get ugly if anyone saw him here.

The door opened. Liz smiled. “Good afternoon, detective. What can I do for you?” she asked kindly.

“Just wanted to stop by and do a follow-up visit.”

“Come on in. I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Would you like a cup?” Liz asked

“No, thanks.” He said, following towards the kitchen. He didn’t need any type of evidence showing that he had been here.

“I’m not sure I can be of any more assistance than I was on your last visit, Detective,” Liz said as she fixed herself a cup of coffee.

“Liz,” McAllen said with a stern voice, “you can offer a lot of assistance by keeping your mouth shut. We know you know more than you’re letting on! If you value your life, you’ll keep that information to yourself.”

Liz stiffened, reaching slowly for the utensils drawer. “Detective,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She pulled out her newest butcher knife as she spoke. She didn’t know who the ‘we’ was that the man mentioned, didn’t even know if he was a real detective, but she did know he wasn’t here on official police business, even if his badge was real.

“You do know, Liz!” McAllen said with a raised voice as he stepped closer to Liz. “This won’t end well for you if you don’t do as I say. Keep your mouth shut and everything will be fine.”

Liz had never been more terrified than she was at that moment. Gripping the knife as tight as she could, she waited for him to get a little closer to her. Liz hoped he wouldn’t see the knife right away. He was so close that she could feel the heat of his breath on her neck. She turned quickly, jabbing the knife towards his stomach.

Liz wasn’t fast enough for McAllen. He had expected her to be afraid, expected her to possibly try something. Hell, he couldn’t blame her for that. Her husband had just been killed. Of course she’d be a little more cautious. He struggled to get the knife away from Liz, but she refused to let go of it. She was feistier than he thought she’d be.

They wrestled around, bumping into the table and cabinets before Liz yelped in pain, her breathing heavier and ragged, the knife protruding from her abdomen. A crimson stain grew on her shirt, her small hand gripping the hilt of the blade, McAllen’s large hand over hers. He panicked and quickly stepped back as Liz crumpled to the kitchen floor. She would damn sure talk now. He wasn’t sure what to do. He was only supposed to threaten her, not harm her physically. As she bled from her wound, he looked at her with fear in his eyes. She would talk. He would die. It was that simple.

Seeing the fear on McAllen’s face, Liz gathered all of her strength and laughed. “You messed up, didn’t you? They’ll catch you and your bastard friends. You’re nothing but a dirty fucking cop!”

That laugh infuriated him and he immediately saw red, losing control. Gripping the knife protruding from her body, he jerked it free, watching her squirm as the flow of blood coloring her clothing increased rapidly. He raised the knife high above his head. Liz screamed as loud as she could, hoping someone would hear her calling out for help.

McAllen came down on her like a hurricane, swiftly stabbing with all his might. With each pass of the blade, blood splattered into the air, arcing onto the ceiling and the nearby cabinets as he growled with the fury that had consumed him. Liz was beyond fighting back; she was at the mercy of this beast of a man. She clamped her eyes closed, the ability to cry out long gone now, her strength wavering as she began praying that her daughter would not return until he was gone.

“That’ll teach you to laugh, bitch!” McAllen growled. Righting himself, he took in his handy work. She was a bloody mess. Liz didn’t move a muscle or make a sound. She lay still, eyes closed, praying for someone to find her when the monster left her alone to die. The pain from her wounds was blindingly sharp; she was losing a lot of blood and needed help fast.

McAllen grabbed a kitchen towel from the counter and wrapped the knife in it, then snatched a roll of paper towels from the counter to remove as much blood as he could from his hands. He was screwed. There was only one possible way to salvage the mess. He had to make it look like a burglary gone wrong. He pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and quickly put them on as he darted into the living room and began tossing furniture and small items around the room, hoping that it would look like a burglar had searched for something. He rummaged through drawers, tossing the contents, as well as the empty drawers, onto the floor. Once he was satisfied with the mayhem, he returned to the kitchen, grabbed the bloody knife and rushed out the door to his car. He was scared shitless. If the police caught him, he’d rot in jail. If his other boss caught him, he’d be lucky to get a quick death. Hopefully, with any luck, two deaths in the same family in such a short amount of time would just be considered an incredibly sad coincidence.

CHAPTER NINE

Mrs. Abigail Franklin was seventy-five years old and had lived in Sizzle her entire life. She had inherited the house across the street from the Michaels from her parents. The Michaels had always been good to her so she made sure to do what she could for them. That mainly consisted of watching over their house when they were out for the day or out of town. It was the least she could do, after all. Ever since Mr. Michaels had been murdered, she kept an even closer eye on the goings-on in the neighborhood.

She was keeping watch when Detective McAllen dropped by. He wasn’t aware of her, but she was sure aware of him. When she saw the car pull into the drive, she became concerned, but then she noticed the flash of gold clipped to his belt when he got out of the car. He was with the police. Breathing a sigh of relief, she headed for the kitchen for a fresh cup of tea. With the police around, Liz would be alright. That thought went away when she heard a man shouting and a woman screaming. Abigail shuffled to the front window and sure enough, she heard glass breaking and loud crashes coming from across the street. Before she could make her way to the phone across the room, she saw McAllen hastily make his way across the lawn with a package under his arm.

“Now what’s that crazy man up to?” she said to no one.

After McAllen sped away, Abigail called the Michaels residence but no one answered. She knew Liz was home. Worried and fearing for her safety, she grabbed her phone but before she could press the three numbers and make the call, she saw Kyra arrive at the house, with another man on a motorcycle – she believed he was a former cop – pulling into the drive right behind her. Without another thought to what she had heard she placed the phone back on the receiver and returned to her hot cup of tea. Everything would be okay now.

CHAPTER TEN

Dylan followed Kyra back to her parents’ house. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. She was consuming his thoughts, which wasn’t a bad thing as far as he was concerned. He just needed to find a way to approach her. The timing couldn’t be worse, though, considering what had happened to her dad. He was willing to wait, but he had already waited for so long. He had no idea how long she’d be stay in Sizzle, and he didn’t want to let the opportunity slip through his fingers again.

Asking Kyra out on a date shouldn’t be so darn hard. He wanted to get to know her again; not the girl from Sizzle, but the woman she had become. He wanted to know what she had been up to the last five years. Why she had left so suddenly. He just wanted to know her. He was struggling to keep his relationship with her professional at this point, but every time he saw her, he couldn’t help but take in the swell of her gorgeous breasts, the firm round ass, and taut legs. She’d changed so much. There were only tiny glimpses of the shy girl he once knew. Now she was strong and beautiful, sure of herself in a way that was sexy as hell, but asking her out would have to wait. As he climbed off his bike, he noticed the front door ajar, and Liz didn’t seem like the type of person to let her door stay open.

With his police training kicking into high gear, he stepped in front of her, pushing her behind him as he pulled his gun. “Stay here,” he told her.

Kyra gasped when Dylan had pulled his gun, but her mom was in there. She wasn’t just going to stand outside in the yard and wait. “No, I’m going with you.”

Frowning at her, Dylan apparently decided it was quicker to agree than argue. “Then stay behind me.” His eyes bore into hers until she nodded. He turned and slowly approached the house, keeping one arm angled out in case Kyra tried to slip past him.

As he eased the front door open, he noticed the overturned furniture, the chaos of the once-immaculate room. This definitely wasn’t good. Kyra stayed pressed to his back, easing inside behind him not wanting to separate from him, and at the same time fighting the urge to run through the house looking for her mother. She could feel his muscles clenching tighter and tighter as they moved from the entryway to the living room. Her eyes lit on the destruction in the living room and her breath whooshed out, tightening her lungs. What the hell was going on?

“Mrs. Michaels?” Dylan shouted. “Are you home?”

He knew she was; her car was in the driveway. An overwhelming feeling of dread rushed through his body, mixing with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. As they rounded the overturned sofa, noticing the jagged rips made in the floral material, they heard a pleading moan coming from the kitchen. Kyra and Dylan rushed to the doorway, finding Mrs. Michaels covered in blood on the kitchen floor.