Page 6 of Night Moves
Drake Byrd stretched as he strode from the Veritas Center’s parking garage to the elevator for the residence tower where he and his brothers lived, letting the blustery night air wake him. He’d just come off eight hours of boring surveillance, and he wanted a pepperoni pizza and a night of watching sports. Any sports. And, after the silence on his latest work shift, some human companionship.
His brother Erik had just ended his shift too. He would definitely provide a break from the silence, probably blabbering on and on. But Drake had been feeling kind of lonely lately. Why? He had no idea. And he would never admit it to anyone. Was hard enough to admit to himself.
Feelings. Right.Like he was going to spend time analyzing them. He probably just needed a long weekend hang gliding.Yeah. He would ask for time off. Aiden and Brendan were just finishing up the last night of surveillance on the tedious divorce investigation they’d all worked for two weeks, and Drake deserved a break from the boredom. He could ski the slopes or hang glide for a day and not be tired, but sitting around? Man. That exhausted him.
In the elevator on the sixth floor garage entrance, he punched the number two, and his stomach grumbled. Erik was on his way to pick up their pizza. Drake’s mouth was already watering, and he could almost smell the tangy sauce from their favorite pizza place just down the road. A mom-and-pop place with authentic Chicago-style pizza.
The elevator stopped on the fifth floor, and the doors split open. His sister’s husband, Reed, stepped partway in and blocked the door. “Man, am I glad to see you. My sister’s on the phone”—he lifted his cell—“and she needs to talk to one of you guys.”
Well, dang. Drake was all for helping Malone out, but the pizza was coming, and he was starving.
“Can’t she leave a message on the office phone?” he asked, perhaps sounding cranky, but he got that way when he was hungry. And he was hun-gry!
“It’s an emergency. A woman in immediate danger.”
That changed things. Big time.
“Let me talk to her.” Drake took Reed’s phone and lifted it to his ear. “Malone, it’s Drake Byrd.”
“Good. Glad I caught you. I have a social worker, Natalie Dunn, who was babysitting a man’s children at his house and had to flee with the children. She believes he’s a killer.”
“Say what? Killed who?” Drake stared at Reed as if he could give more information. He shrugged.
“I can’t waste time on the story now,” Malone said. “You need to get going. They’re vulnerable.”
Drake didn’t like being in the dark, but he disliked having a woman and children in danger far more. “What do you need me to do?”
“I’ve sent them to the usual rendezvous spot.” She shared the address, but he didn’t need it. He and his brothers had transported women and children from this location to local shelters.
“Which shelter do you want us to take her to?”
“That’s the thing. She can’t go to a shelter, not with kids who aren’t her own. So I need a safe place for them. Somewhere off-grid until this is properly investigated, and he can’t hurt her or the kids.”
“Has he tried?”
“No, but seems like he’s grooming the oldest girl for something unsavory.”
Drake didn’t want to let this father near the kids. “I’ll take them to—”
“No. Don’t tell me. And don’t call me from the secure location. Just in case.”
“You think he could connect her to you and come after you?”
“He’s a police officer and works in internet crimes so he has tech skills and more resources at his disposal than a civilian. Plus he recently came into some family money so he has plenty to spend on it.”
Drake’s gut clenched. He hated hearing that a law enforcement officer sworn to protect others might be a killer. “This guy being a cop changes things big-time.”
“It could,” Malone admitted reluctantly. “But we were careful. I use burner phones for my clients in danger. Natalie called on one of those numbers. So I should be fine.”
Sounded like she knew how to take precautions. Reed, an FBI agent, had probably schooled her on the very subject.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll go get them.”
“I’ll be calling a detective I can trust to get officers out to the house to preserve the evidence, but then it will take time to get a warrant to search the basement. Since the father is a police officer, I’d feel better if you also had someone watch him. He was injured in a car accident, and his car is out of commission, but there’s a minivan in his garage. He’s in a cab, on the way home from the hospital now.”
“We’ll have someone there as soon as possible. What’s his name and address?”
“Kirk Gentry.” She added the address.
