Robin Clayton gets the worst phone call of her life. Mark, her police detective husband, has been shot in the line of duty. Or was it? A young woman is dead, and Mark lies in a coma. While he remains helpless and unaware, Internal Affairs builds a case that threatens to tear Mark and Robin apart. Mark’s gun is missing, and a briefcase full of money has appeared in Robin’s house.
Has Mark been leaking information to his girlfriend as IA claims? Did he kill the woman?
When someone sneaks into the hospital with one purpose--to kill Mark--Robin and her friends fight to find answers before it’s too late.
Series: Pinion Creek #1
Cindy Carroll crept to the back entrance of the warehouse, grateful early morning darkness still covered her. The door squeaked a little, and she froze, holding her breath.
“Are you going to tell me why we had to show up here in the middle of the night?” The male voice increased as he and his friend drew closer.
“Yeah, the boss explained his whole plan to me over coffee and a pastry.”
“Funny, Lou.” The first man laughed.
Cindy released her breath and tiptoed toward the stairs. Moonlight streaming through high windows revealed broken glass and clutter waiting to scream her presence to the drug dealers outside.
On the mezzanine, she settled into deep shadows behind a rotting wooden banister. Something whispered at her shoulder. She stifled a shriek and swatted at it. A cobweb stuck to her fingers, and she wiped them on her jeans. The back door squeaked again, louder this time. A click produced a dim glow from a bulb dangling over the heads of the two men she’d slipped past in the parking lot. She backed a little and tried not to breathe as they moved into her line of sight. A large dark-haired man carried a black briefcase. His friend brushed something off his shoulder with a flick of his wrist. The hint of a cufflink sparkled.
“This is my best suit. If I’d known we were coming to this dump, I would’ve changed first.”
“I’ll register your complaint. Stop whining, will ya? You can buy another suit. A hundred suits.”
The man she’d been waiting for, known to her as Boss, and a younger man in jeans entered through the open door at the front, their footsteps a hollow echo as they approached. Cindy ducked outside the ring of light
Lou shifted the briefcase to his other hand. “I haven’t seen anyone yet.”
“They’ll be here. Don’t worry.”
Three more men entered through the front. The tallest gripped a briefcase identical to Lou’s.
Boss held out his hand. “Good to see you, Leon. You got the money?”
Leon clasped the offered hand. “You got the product?”
Dust puffed up from an old wooden table as the two men threw their briefcases on top. It wobbled then steadied. Cindy scooted forward for a better look, almost touching the grimy two-by-four railing. A nail protruding from the decayed support barely held it in place. She winced. Announcing herself by falling into the middle of their transaction didn’t seem like a good idea.
They flipped the briefcase locks and the others leaned in. She peered down, hoping this wasn’t a giant mistake. Maybe the phone call she received had been a trap. Maybe they knew she’d been following them, and they led her here to dispose of her. She crouched lower and inched closer to the splintery post. The cases fell open. Sure enough, one was full of money and the other one contained little white packets.
Everyone stepped back. After nods from Boss and Leon, the men who had carried the cases switched places, snapped the other’s shut, and yanked them off the table.
Boss smirked. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
Cindy slid away from the edge. What was she going to do? Where was Detective Clayton? Had it been a mistake to call him? Was he part of it? They couldn’t get away. There had to be something she could do.
“Everybody put your hands up and face the wall.” Though she heard him, he remained out of her sight, under the mezzanine. He strode forward his gun drawn, alone as he had promised. What had she done? He looked so vulnerable down there by himself, facing seven men. When was she ever going to learn? Someone moved behind him.
She sprang to her feet. “Mark, look out!”
He swung around as a shot rang out. His body jerked, and he fell. Cindy screamed. A click sounded behind her, and she spun around.
“So you’re the reason he showed up here.”
She stared at the muzzle of a Glock. Everything else faded. She saw it move but never heard the shot.