AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He would have smiled if he wasn’t so irritated at the failure tonight.
Chen was dead, because of his plan. Dyson was dead, because of his hand. Both perfect murders because he had orchestrated both.
As soon as he brought in others? Failure.
“Her phone isn’t transmitting anymore. I have the last location...”
“She destroyed it. You know what to do. And so do I.”
He ended the call, then called the woman who originally hired him to fix the avalanche of problems created after David Chen was arrested.
“I need an additional one million in my account by noon tomorrow or I’m walking. I’m not in the mood to negotiate.”
30
Bryce Thornton knew Kara Quinn was a bad cop from the minute he’d met her. She’d been allegedly working undercover as the whore of some drug runner, and she certainly acted the part. He’d documented her committing crimes, but apparently, that was allowed in LAPD when you were working undercover.
She’d been belligerent and cocky and had a mouth on her he wanted to slap.
He hated how she made him feel—hot, tense, angry. She was everything he despised in a bad cop. The rules didn’t apply to her. She could do anything she wanted and apparently got away with it. LAPD shoved her bullshit under the rug because she was their golden girl, all because early in her career she had shut down some major high school drug operation and saved some prima donna’s life.
He might have given her one pass, but she was a rebel, a maverick, and he didn’t like mavericks. He believed in law and order, with the emphasis on order. If they didn’t have a civil society, what did they have? Anarchy. And cops running around pretending they were in the Wild, Wild West.
Every time he was close to nailing her for serious violations, something happened and her violation just disappeared. She’d be suspended, or reprimanded, but she still had her badge, and she still had her gun.
If he had his way, she’d be sitting in federal prison for the next ten to twenty. But apparently, she’d been cleared of wrongdoing every single time she’d been called into Internal Affairs.
He had the body cam footage of her threatening David Chen, stating that she wished he’d broken his neck. There were no witnesses to confirm that he fell off the roof, and Chen himself said she threatened him and he backed away, fearing she would shoot him, and he fell. Quinn denied it, but Thornton believed Chen.
Unfortunately, no one else did. Just because someone is a killer doesn’t mean they lie about everything.
He went to bed Tuesday night thinking about all these things, and how he was going to catch Kara Quinn breaking the law. His phone woke him at two thirty. It was an unknown caller, but he answered.
“Thornton.” He cleared his throat.
An unfamiliar voice said, “Check your messages. I have the dirt on Quinn.”
The caller hung up and Bryce turned on his bedside lamp and looked at his phone messages. He had one text.
I have proof that Quinn orchestrated the hit on Chen. I’ll be at the South Pasadena dog park off the 110 at 4 a.m. if you want it.
He responded.
Who is this?
There was no answer. He got up, dressed, looked down at his phone when it beeped.
The gun used to kill Chen is registered to Quinn. She may not have pulled the trigger, but she gave the killer the gun. You want it? I have it. It’ll put Quinn away for life. You know where to find me.
He was in his car heading to South Pasadena when he called Rebecca. It took her several rings before she picked up. “What’s wrong?”
“Quinn’s gun was used to kill Chen. We’re going to get her.”
“How do you know?”
“An informant. I’m meeting him now.”
“Now? You can’t—we need to put together a team. Do not go alone.”
