Relentless. Jan Hambright

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      “Looks that way.”

      “How soon are we going to get him back?”

      “Couple of weeks, if finance coughs up the money.”

      “I’d like to interrogate him, maybe he knows something about Otis Whittley.”

      “I’ll let you know as soon he arrives.”

      “Thanks, Ben.” Did Kate know Orlando Durant? “I owe you one.” He stood up and moved for the door.

      “Anytime. Hey, I had a visitor this morning.”

      “Oh yeah, who?” Mick pulled up short and turned around.

      “Byer stopped by for his annual how-the-heck-are-you chat.”

      Mick thought of the ex-partner who’d saved his butt more than a couple of times, but they’d fallen out of touch over the years. “How’s he doing? Staying out of trouble?”

      “You know Bret. He’s top dog over at customs. Sitting on big money and bigger benefits. Something to do with manifest approvals.”

      “I heard that, but then he always pushed to get ahead. Not like you and me, happy to be at the bottom of the food chain.”

      Schneider smiled. “I wish the sharks at the bottom of the food chain would chew my butt off before next week. I’ve got to pass my physical.”

      “Good luck.” Mick left the homicide division with a smile on his face. He hadn’t thought of Bret in at least a year. They’d grown up in the same town in Florida, attended the same college and played on the same football team. They’d become fast friends and eventually went through the academy together.

      His cell phone rang. “Jacoby.”

      “Officer?”

      He recognized Kate’s voice, laced with panic. “Kate. What’s wrong?”

      “You better come out to the storage unit. There’s been some trouble.”

      “I’ll be right there.”

      KATE STOOD AT the storage-lot gate, her face the color of a sun-bleached sheet. She put in the gate code and climbed in beside him.

      “Did you touch anything?” The question came out like an accusation and he instantly regretted it.

      “I’m not an idiot.”

      “I’m sorry.” He touched her hand where it lay on the seat and felt her warmth invade the dark places in his heart. He put his hand back on the steering wheel where it belonged and made the turn down the row of units.

      The door to the large unit at the end was open, the butt of the Beamer visible. “It’s still there.”

      “You should see the inside.”

      He braked and popped the gearshift into park. “I’ll get the lab boys over here and deal with the fallout later.”

      “Fallout?”

      “This car should be in impound. I should have called it in last night.” He looked at her, caught by the way her mahogany-colored hair framed her face and curled up on the ends. She was a beautiful woman. A flash of desire pulsed through him and settled in his gut.

      “I wish it was there, too. I’m probably going to lose my job over this.”

      “Don’t panic. Let’s have a look.” He got out of the car and moved into the storage unit. Except for the bullet holes in the trunk and the shattered rear window, the car was pristine. He bent closer and looked into the side window. The seats had been slashed and lay open. Stuffing littered the floorboards, white and billowy like a collection of clouds.

      “Who else knew about this place.”

      “Just us. For security, I never told anyone where I took the cars. Not even my boss.”

      Mick straightened and moved around to the front of the vehicle. Caution slid through his veins and he stopped, but before he could warn her to stay back, she was beside him. He heard her sharp intake of breath.

      DIE SLOW KATE. The words were painted across the windshield in dark red.

      “Go outside.” He leaned close to the glass and drew in a smell of the substance on the windshield. The iron-rich odor turned his stomach.

      Blood.

      He backed away and pulled the handheld radio off his belt. “Dispatch, officer 557. I need a lab team at A-1 Storage in Paradise, unit B-3.” He was guessing, but whoever’s blood had been used to paint the message was more than likely dead. His hunch was it belonged to Otis Whittley.

      Kate stood outside the unit, her face in her hands. He moved toward her and felt an overwhelming need to protect her from the ugliness inside and the danger outside. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He stepped next to her. “It’s probably just an idle threat made by some punk kid.”

      “Is it…blood?”

      “Yeah.”

      She leaned into him, taking him by surprise. Like a bomb hooked to a physical timer, desire exploded inside him and he craved her like air. He put his arms around her and pulled her against his chest, satisfied when she relaxed into him. “The Beamer will go to evidence, then to impound. If the lab confirms it’s blood on the windshield, you’re looking at posttrial before the car is released.” The return of the BMW wasn’t his worry. The threat bothered him.

      “Do you think we were followed last night?”

      “That would be my guess.”

      “Maybe not.” She looked up at him and he saw a flicker of fear in her eyes.

      “What do you mean?” He released her and stared into her upturned face, watched her swallow, and look away.

      “I came over here this afternoon.”

      “What!”

      “I wanted to make sure you hadn’t had the car hauled away. It’s my livelihood. After you left this morning, there was a black car parked across the street. I couldn’t see the driver or get a plate number, but after I went inside, it took off. I thought I was just being paranoid. I took Cody to see his dad, and we made a swing by here.”

      “We have no idea what’s going on.” Mick grasped her upper arms. He had to infuse some caution into her.

      “It didn’t seem important.”

      “Everything is important. The threat on the window doubles it.”

      “Look, Mick, I can take care of myself.”

      “Where is Cody?”

      “He’s with my friend and her family. They took him to Disney World for a week.”

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