Cold Death by Mary Stone (best e reader for android TXT) 📕

relayed a story about the times he’d spotted a teenage boy begging for money in downtown Charleston many years ago but had only recently realized the boy had been declared missing. “So, of course, the first time I found myself back in Charleston, I wanted to do my civic duty and report this information to the proper authorities.”

“Of course you did.” Again, Fortis studied the stranger’s face. Beyond sounding like a hoity-toity prick, the man hadn’t said anything alarming enough to drag him into one of the interrogation rooms.

His gut pinged again, making its disagreement clear. “Well, you’ll be happy to know that that particular case was already solved.”

Since Fortis was watching him closely, he caught the stranger’s initial reaction. Or more like, the lack of one. The man showed no response to the news, which Fortis found weird. “For someone who came in to do their civic duty, you don’t seem all that excited about hearing the good news.”

Another tightening of that chiseled jaw, almost imperceptible, before the smile widened. The man clutched his hands together in front of his chest. “No, that’s wonderful news! My apologies. It sometimes takes me a few moments to process information, especially after a long day of travel. That’s my cue to retire to my hotel, I think. Thank you for your time, Detective. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Without waiting for a reply, the man pivoted and headed for the exit. When the door whisked shut, Fortis made a decision, his heart beating like a drum in his chest. He strode toward the door that the man had just disappeared through, calling over his shoulder to the desk clerk. “See you tomorrow, Loretta.”

“Night, Detective Fortis.”

Fortis emerged into the brisk night air with damp palms. The glow spilling through the lobby doors and from the streetlights that lined the parking lot illuminated the darkness, but it still took him a couple of seconds to spot the figure on the sidewalk, covering the ground with quick strides as he headed toward the parking garage.

Fortis hurried after him. His pulse was the highest it’d been since his piss-poor attempt at racquetball last summer with an old CPD buddy, pounding in his ears like one of those awful rap songs his son liked. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the rush of tailing a suspect. Too many long nights crammed behind a computer typing up endless reports, not enough solving cases. When had he gotten so old?

Although, as he followed the man into the parking garage, Fortis didn’t feel old. Not with the way the adrenaline thrummed in his veins. This was the most alive he’d felt in years.

The man glanced over his shoulder and increased his pace.

Fortis did the same, and their footsteps echoed through the deserted structure. “Hey, wait up! I want to ask you something!”

His shout bounced off the concrete walls, but the man didn’t so much as hesitate before he broke into a run.

“Shit,” Fortis muttered, even as his spine zinged with an electric thrill. As his shoes slapped cement, some primal instinct buried deep inside of him roared, like the cheetah in that nature program he’d watched with his daughter, right before the cat brought down an antelope.

It felt good being the cheetah again. Even if his quads burned like a sonofabitch. Go ahead and run. That will make tackling your ass all the more satisfying.

The man rounded a corner and disappeared behind a black SUV. Fortis pumped his legs harder. His right knee ached, reminding him that he hadn’t sprinted like this in years, but he pushed through the pain.

His lungs burned as he skirted the SUV’s bumper and scanned the lanes ahead. No sign of the man on the ramp leading up to the next level. Damn. Now he’d have to check behind every nearby car.

Fortis slowed his pace and reached for his gun. A flash of motion to his left, and he swung in that direction. He glimpsed a gray shirt before the stairwell door clicked shut.

Leading with his gun, Fortis sprinted for the door. He yanked it open to footsteps pounding up the stairs. “Freeze!”

He lunged for the first step, keeping his eyes trained on the suspect. In his hurry, his boot caught the lip of the second step, and he pitched forward. His left hand shot out to break the fall, and after a few wasted seconds to regain his balance, Fortis was back on his feet and bounding up the stairs.

When he reached the first landing, the man was gone.

Fortis peered up the second flight of stairs. Nothing.

He hesitated as silence stretched around him. If the suspect had fled upward, Fortis would have heard footsteps. He couldn’t recall any, so he shifted away from the stairs and eased open the door that led to second-level parking. He swept his gun left to right, searching the depths of the dim garage for any signs of life. Perking his ears for the snick of a car door opening or hoping for the sudden glow of an interior light, he stood silent for several long moments.

When neither of those things happened, Fortis entered the parking area. His pulse continued to pound like his heart hadn’t caught the memo that his legs had stopped running a ways back. So what if he was out of shape, though? None of that would matter if this fucker turned out to be who Fortis suspected he was. Hell, if the man was Kingsley, the entire damn department, maybe even the city, would throw him a party and call him a hero.

If that happened, he wouldn’t have to trade in his badge for a fedora after all. Marie would remember why she’d married him in the first place, and the kids would look up at him with excited, proud eyes. The way they had when they were still little. Ellie would finally be safe, and so would Bethany.

Excitement urged him to hurry, but Fortis knew better. Rushing after a