All I've Ever Wanted - Adrianne Byrd [3]
“What the hell was that?”
Kennedy’s head rang with the horrifying realization of what she’d just done.
“Mike and Devon, go check it out.”
Her thoughts scrambled. They’re going to kill me. The realization thawed the fear and self-preservation kicked into high gear.
She turned and ran.
“Over there,” she heard a man yell a split second before something whizzed by her ear.
Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Dodging around trees, jumping over bushes and rocks, Kennedy ran as fast as she could. Branches snapped and she kicked up dirt and leaves as she passed. The men were still shooting. She thought of her son and ran faster, fearing she would never see him again.
Chapter 3
Scene of the crime
Sunday, 7:15 a.m.
Detective Maxwell Collier groaned inwardly as he parked his black Maxima behind a swarm of patrol cars. The sun had barely been up for an hour and it was already time to deal with the aftermath of a full moon. Dread seeped into his bones as he stared at the dismal scene from behind his dark sunglasses.
A quick tap against his window drew him out of his trance. When he looked up, he saw his partner, Det. Michael Dossman, grinning crookedly and holding two steaming cups of coffee. Whether Max liked it or not, it was time to face the day.
“Morning,” Dossman greeted, handing Max a cup as he got out of his car. “I hope you enjoyed your vacation because we’ve just been handed a case from hell.”
Max groaned. One could hardly call spending a week on an ugly custody battle a vacation. “After fifteen years on the force, I’ve come to the conclusion that every case is a case from hell.”
Dossman shrugged. “I guess you have a point there. But this is one for the record books,” he said as they headed toward the crime scene.
“Just spit it out, Dossman.”
“I think I’d rather wait until you see it for yourself.”
“Suit yourself.” Max shrugged off his irritation at his partner’s baiting game and took a sip of his coffee. Now the morning was complete.
He didn’t know what he’d expected, if he’d expected anything at all, but he’d recognized the victim. In one glance, he realized the truth of Dossman’s statement; this was going to be the case from hell. “Assistant District Attorney, Marion Underwood.”
“I see you have a good memory,” Dossman said. “Frankly, I never cared for the man.”
“That goes for everyone who ever met him.” Max exhaled, and then took a look around the perimeter. “What in the hell was he doing out here?”
“Now that’s the million-dollar question.”
“This definitely wasn’t a robbery gone awry.”
“No. This looks more like an execution—a single bullet to the back of the head. It doesn’t look like anything was taken. The man still had twenty-five hundred dollars in cash and six platinum cards in his wallet.”
“Who discovered the body?” Max questioned.
“A group of teenagers. They said this place is a popular make-out point. Can you believe that?”
“Here? It’s the middle of nowhere.”
Dossman smiled. “They say that that’s the beauty of it.”
“Of course. What was I thinking?” Suddenly, his coffee lost its appeal. “The media is going to have a field day with this one.”
“There’s that. There’s also the fact that we have no leads and no witnesses.”
“And no suspects.”
Dossman shook his head. “On the contrary. I suspect that we’ll be swimming in suspects. It’ll be a ‘Who shot J.R.?’ kind of thing.”
“Great. I can hardly wait. How much time to you think we have before—”
“Detective Collier, Detective Collier. May I ask you a few questions?”
Max jerked around to Aaliyah Hunter. She was clutching a microphone and her cameraman was waving frantically. The sight of them twisted his stomach into knots.
“She’s got to be kidding,” Dossman said, shaking his head. “Wasn’t she the reporter who put you in the hot seat last year?”
“Hot seat?” Max ground his teeth, then turned away. “She damn near cost me my job with her misquotes and creative editing skills.” To his surprise, his face flushed with anger. He’d thought that he’d turned the