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

it. That’s all the information the officers at the scene were able to get people to admit.”

“Where was the shooting?”

“Out in Crack Village, near the housing projects. Midnight last night.”

I pulled my phone and called Chills, a gang leader with a God-fearing grandmother.

“I was expecting your call. Give me a minute.” I could hear voices in the background, then a door close. “I’m working on finding the shooter. I’ve got boys living two doors down. Best I can figure, the shooters were gunning for my crew and hit the wrong house. I’ll call you when I know more.”

“Not so quick. Is this a turf war?”

“Naw. Just some young bloods trying to prove themselves. I’ll take care of it.”

“No, you won’t. You’ll get me a name and address.”

“Can’t do that. Bad for business.”

“Don’t screw with me, Chills. We’re talking about a guy who killed a kid. That’s front-page news.”

“All right, all right. I’ll see what I can arrange so the boys in blue look good.”

“If you go rogue—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save your threats for someone who doesn’t know how fucking crazy you are. Damn, I miss Kelsey. At least she’s somewhat sane.” He disconnected the call.

“Anything?” Quille asked, nodding to my phone as I dropped it into my bag.

“Shooters hit the wrong house. My contact is looking into it. He’ll ring back when he has something.”

“I hope it’s soon. The news stations are already running the story.”

Cases like these were a powder keg. Either the community quietly mourned or outrage at the police overtook the city from every podium. In the chaos that always followed, there were never any good guys. Not on either side. How could there be. A little boy had lost his life.

“I got a confirmation from WITSEC that Roseline was one of theirs, but they aren’t saying why. They’re sending someone to talk to us.”

“Great. Just what I need. Some uppity Fed telling me how to do my job.”

“Ouch,” Maggie said from the doorway. “That hurt my feelings.”

I was about to exclaim my excitement at seeing Maggie when I remembered the grieving mother. I looked over, but both the woman and Beast were no longer at the desk.

Maggie followed my gaze. “You looking for the crying woman with the dog?”

“Yeah. Did you see where they went?”

“A detective moved them into the conference room at the end of the hall. What happened?”

“Drive by.”

Maggie sighed. “It never ends.”

“No, it doesn’t.” I waved a hand at the chairs. “Were you sent here to share intel? Or to tell us to back off?”

Maggie turned one of the guest chairs, angling it toward me, then sat before propping her feet up on the other chair. “I’m to tell you to back off. But I’d rather fast forward to the part where you refuse to drop the case and I’m forced to divulge details.”

“I like her,” Quille said.

“Yeah. Maggie’s got style.” I looked at Quille. “Sergeant Quille, meet FBI agent, Maggie O’Donnell. Truly, the best the FBI has ever had on their team.”

“Ooh. Nice intro,” Maggie said, leaning over to shake Quille’s hand. “Call me Maggie. I like to keep a low profile.”

“You can call me Quille or Patrick, but most people around here call me Quille.”

“Like the pen. Got it. Now, as for Roseline Pageotte,” she said, eyeing me sideways as she shook her head, “you really slammed into a mess this time. Heads are rolling in the DOJ.”

“What the hell does the DOJ have to do with my homicide?”

“Roseline was the primary witness in an upcoming trial for a hillbilly heroin ring.”

“What? How does a quiet woman like Roseline end up anywhere near Oxi dealers?”

Maggie’s eyes lit with challenge as she watched me. “There was one detail in her background that wasn’t fake. Can you guess which one?”

I looked down as my mind shifted through her background search and her employee file. “Shit. She worked at a truck stop.”

“Ding-ding-ding,” Maggie said as she rang an invisible bell. “I’m impressed.” Maggie saw something out of the corner of her eye in the main room and her facial features morphed back to her all-business expression.

“The grieving mother?” I asked, not looking toward the window to see for myself.

When she looked back at me, it was her sad eyes that answered yes. “The Feds aren’t releasing the details of their case yet, but I can share that Roseline documented trucks coming and going for over six months involving this drug ring. She was a sharp woman. Then one night something went wrong. One of the drivers shot a guy in the parking lot. Roseline hid until the cops got there. She’s lucky to be alive. She asked the local police to call the Feds, then she turned everything over to us. She had collected video tape evidence along with detailed notes on over two dozen bad guys.  These guys were never even on our radar.”

Quille whistled.

I lowered my head, staring at the floor.

“She was your neighbor?” Maggie asked, though we both knew she already knew the answer. Maggie would’ve studied the details of the case before walking into the building.

I nodded anyway.

“Were you two close?”

I shook my head. I continued staring at the floor as I answered. “She kept her distance. She told people she was an illegal to explain why she was so reserved. I never guessed.”

“But you respected her.”

“Twelve apartments in our building, but Roseline was the only one who was willing to lend a helping hand to Pauly, a local homeless man.”

“No,” Quille said. “She wasn’t the only one. You helped him, too. Don’t forget that.”

“I didn’t do enough for either of them. They were murdered right under my nose. In my own damn building.” I stood and walked over to