Hunt and Prey (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 8) by Kaylie Hunter (novels to read for beginners txt) 📕

And then my luck changed. My gun, minus the clip, was lying on top of a garbage bag. I snagged the gun, climbed back down, and released a long breath—relieved that I didn’t have to report my firearm missing. That was a pretty bad thing to happen to a cop.

Another patrol car pulled up, this time with officers I knew. They convinced the younger officers that typing up a report was a waste of time, then they gave me a lift back to Jack’s condo building. Uncle Hank, Jack, and Pimples were still in the parking lot, waiting for me. I limped over to them.

Uncle Hank gave me a once over with his eyes. “He got away?”

I dipped my head in a yes.

“Your face is a mess. How bad is your leg?”

“Bruised knee. Anything in the car?”

“Not even a registration,” Pimples said, shaking his head.

“Called the license plate and VIN into a buddy,” Jack said. “It’s a day rental. Paid cash.”

“Video image at the car rental?”

Pimples’ shoulders lifted proudly as he answered. “Already sent to your phone. He’s got a hat on and wearing tinted sunglasses, though. Kept turned away from the camera for the most part.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Uncle Hank asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah. Nothing an ice pack can’t fix. Just pissed he got away.”

Uncle Hank’s eyes narrowed as he silently processed his thoughts.

“What?” I asked him.

“I can’t remember the last time you lost a fight.”

“He surprised me. That’s all.”

Uncle Hank watched me, and I knew he saw it. I knew he saw that I was rattled. I’d trained routinely for years, never letting my guard down. It took a lot of skill for someone to beat me in a fight. And that guy had nearly been the death of me. I wasn’t ready to process how close I’d come to the end, nor what that would’ve looked like for those left behind. Instead, I followed Jack into the building and into the elevator to the fourth floor.

In Jack’s bathroom, I washed up the best I could and changed into one of Jack’s t-shirts. My shoes and pants were filthy with streaks of bloodstains and tinted from other unknown substances, but they’d do until I got home and changed. Aunt Suzanne handed me an ice pack when I returned to the living room. I sat on the couch holding the pack to my nose as I blindly drank from a bottle of beer. The boys settled into their poker game again while Aunt Suzanne rummaged around in Jack’s kitchen, making herself at home.

I’m not sure how long I sat there before drifting off to sleep. When I woke, I was lying on the couch covered with a blanket. I looked at the clock as I gained my bearings. I’d slept the afternoon away and into the early evening.

“I saved you a plate of food,” Aunt Suzanne said, handing me a glass of water. “We didn’t want to wake you. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately.”

“Lately?” Uncle Hank laughed from the table. “You mean like she always does?”

“Catnaps,” Jack said, snorting. “That’s what she calls them. I don’t know how she does it.”

“Leave her be,” Juan said. “That’s one hell of a detective you boys are making fun of.”

“Never said she wasn’t,” Uncle Hank said. “Doesn’t mean I don’t wish my girl would stop stalking Miami streets at night.”

I tossed the blanket off, set the glass of water on the side stand, and ran my fingers through my hair. I started cataloging the day’s events and wasn’t surprised that I’d fallen asleep. Two dead bodies, Evie’s case, a baby shower, and a street fight all accumulated into one hell of a day.

Then I remembered the rocket launcher. “Pimples, what’s the deal with the rocket launcher?”

He chuckled and walked down the hall, returning with the launcher. “Pretty cool, aye?”

“I’m guessing you don’t have a special permit for that.”

“I might’ve bought the launcher from a guy I know who works in the gray area of the resale business. The rocket’s not active, though. Would barely ding a car door.” Pimples held the launcher out toward me.

“I used to shoot these in the military,” Joe Jr. said as he reached out and took the launcher from Pimples.

Joe Jr. had been a senior citizen for at least a century. He was at that age where he no longer gave a shit what mischief he caused because he celebrated every day like it was a bucket list kind of day.

In one second, we all scrambled toward the launcher to take it away from Joe Jr. In the next, we all pivoted the other direction, trying to distance ourselves from the oncoming catastrophe.

With a bum knee, I was too slow. Pimples tackled me to the ground as the rocket zoomed through the space where I’d been standing and pierced through the living room wall.

A scream sounded, and we all scrambled for the condo door. In the building’s hallway, we saw the perfectly round hole from our side which aligned with the perfectly round hole in the wall of the condo across from Jack’s.

I ran over and pounded on the door, identifying myself as a police officer. An elder woman opened the door, looking shocked to the bone. I moved past her into the condo where I found the rocket embedded in her recliner. A TV tray lay on the floor next to the recliner. A plate of food had been flung to the center of the room. By the looks of the mess, the older woman had been sitting in the recliner when the rocket made its abrupt appearance.

I turned back and saw Jack was holding the older woman, offering her comfort. She’d went from shocked-scared to completely enthralled as she