Page 53 of Daybreak

“I will, but for the time being, when you contact me, text. I might have my phone on mute from time to time,” he said.

She frowned at the implication of caution he had to take. “Heard and understood. Happy birthday, Roadrunner. Goodbye for now.”

“Bye, honey. Get some rest.”

Gunner pocketed his phone and then went to his laptop and ordered enough groceries to get him through an undetermined stretch of isolation.

And Holly went back to stow her luggage, then sent a text to her boss, letting him know she would be at work tomorrow. Then she made a grocery list and ordered groceries online to be delivered today. She was too tired to shop for herself, and she didn’t even have milk for cereal.

Ready or not, it was back to her usual routine.

* * *

There was one homicide cop who went home that night uncertain what the next move should be. Gunner Kingston had thrown down a warning that couldn’t be ignored. The man was relentless. They all knew it.

But being made as a dirty cop was as good as being dead.

Chapter 10

Dixon was sitting in his dining room alone, eating his ribeye because it was there, not because he craved it. He was still pissed off at Whistler for daring to talk back and had sent him to the kitchen to eat with the hired help.

He was bothered that the cop who’d been feeding him info had gone silent and tried to convince himself that it was because there was nothing to share, but it felt like he’d left something undone.

* * *

Whistler was eating steak in the kitchen and listening to the chatter from the rest of the staff. As soon as the meal was finished and the kitchen cleaned and set up for tomorrow, they would go to their suite, and he’d be going home. He had his own set of issues and future to think about and knew he’d soon be moving on, and if there was one thing he’d learned from his boss, it was leaving no loose ends behind.

* * *

Detectives Beale and Rowdy returned to the division to file reports on the case they were working on and walked in on a very subdued crew eating their way through what looked like the remnants of someone’s birthday cake.

“Who died?” Rowdy said and laughed, then frowned when no one laughed with him. “What? Did someone really die?”

Frankie Adams’s spiked hairstyle was grass-green today, and she’d already been teased about it. But being outrageous was what kept the men from hitting on her. She thought it was funny they considered her too weird to fuck.

“Gunner was here,” she said. “He brought cake. Said it was his birthday.”

Cliff groaned. “Damn it! Is he okay? Why didn’t he call?”

Frankie shrugged. “I don’t think it was a celebration. I think it was a warning. His cake didn’t have Happy Birthday written on it. Just the word Bulletproof. I’d say it was a message to whom it may concern, that he wasn’t afraid of shit. He thinks there’s a dirty cop in the division, and he’s still pissed about the bounty that was put on his head, so I don’t see him coming back until this is resolved. And since he no longer knows who he can trust, I don’t blame him.”

Cliff paled. Now he knew why Gunner had been acting so weird, but to think Gunner didn’t trust him was a shock. What the hell did I do to make him think I would hurt him? He felt sick.

Lieutenant Samuels walked up behind them. “Gunner told us to save you and Rowdy some cake. It’s on my desk. I’ve been staring at it for over two hours, so come get it or donate it to the cause.”

Rowdy was eyeing the crumbs in the box. “What cause?”

“Cause I’m going to eat it if you don’t,” Samuels said and walked off smiling.

Rowdy let out a big belly laugh and followed the lieutenant into his office, picked up the two plates, and carried them back to their desks.

“Here you go, Cliff,” he said and set it down on his desk.

Cliff stared at the cake, then pushed it aside. “I’m going home,” he said and walked out with his head down and his shoulders slumped.

Rowdy shrugged and ate both. By the time he was finished, the only people in the room were janitors. He tossed the paper plates in the trash and left the building.

* * *