Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
The knife in Sayla’s tire.
It had happened the day before I brought the kids back home, so with everything that’d happened since there’d been just enough time for it to be forgotten and chalked up to bad luck or maybe a petty act of vandalism. But what if it wasn’t random?
Rubbing my temples, my jaw tightened as the panic crept in. I growled the words before I could stop them. “What if they already got to Sayla?”
Judd’s head snapped toward me, his whole body tensing like I’d pulled a trigger. “What?” he barked. “What the hell happened?”
“The knife in her tire,” I forced the words out like they were shards of glass.
Kai tilted his head, frowning as he stared at the patch of grass near his boots. “You think it’s connected?”
I didn’t answer with words, I didn’t need to. The look on my face told him everything he needed to know.
He exhaled slowly. “Now that you mention it... yeah. You could be right.”
Judd’s eyes narrowed. “Did we ever get anything back on the prints from the knife?”
Kai shook his head slowly, already pulling out his phone. “No, and with everything else going on, I didn’t push it. But I’ll call Kapono and have him cross-check them against the ones we pulled off the envelope. Quietly. We don’t want to light anything up.”
“Good,” Judd muttered, pacing a few steps like he was trying to burn off the sudden jolt of tension. “If it’s the same prints, then this whole thing’s already been bleeding into your personal life for longer than we realized, Roque.”
I nodded stiffly, my mind spiraling. The idea of Sayla being targeted—just for being close to me—hit harder than I wanted to admit. But panic was a luxury I couldn’t afford right now.
Panic clouded your judgment, and it made you miss details. It got people killed.
I closed my eyes briefly and pulled in a long, steadying breath. Then another. Slowing everything down before it broke loose inside me.
Focus. Breathe. Control the variables.
“I’ll talk to her tonight,” I said finally, my voice steadier than I felt. “And I’ll make sure Bond knows to keep someone close. If they’re testing the edges, I want them to know we bite back.”
Judd, leaning against his truck with his arms crossed, finally spoke. “We all need to sweep our vehicles, homes, phones—everything. We need to assume they’ve planted something. Hell, assume they’ve planted everything.”
“Agreed,” I said. “We can’t afford surprises.”
We didn’t linger long. The conversation wound down like a fuse burning low—tight, quick, and ending in silence. We drove back to the PD together, pulling in with neutral faces like we’d just wrapped up a field check.
Inside, we found a couple of uniforms milling about, and Kai played his part without missing a beat.
“Thanks for meeting up with us,” I called to him, my voice loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “We just needed to run through the scene again with a fresh set of eyes. Hopefully, the coroner gets us that ID soon.”
“Still no cause of death?” Kai asked.
I shook my head. “Not yet. And the time of death’s still unclear, too.”
“Let me know when it comes through,” he said, giving a polite nod before heading off down the corridor.
I watched him go, my thoughts already jumping ahead. DNA hits, unknown houses, gossiping neighbors—everything was moving faster now. They were getting messier. And if they thought they had me cornered, they hadn’t seen what I’d do when I was protecting mine.
Judd and I walked in through the back entrance of the station and made our way toward his office like we didn’t have half a dozen threads burning in our heads. The second the door shut behind us, Judd’s phone buzzed, and a second later, so did mine.
Kapono: Around the corner. Deli run. Five minutes.
“Guess we’re hungry,” Judd muttered, already moving.
We slipped out the side door, cut through the alley behind the department, and looped around the corner to the deli. Kapono was already there, leaning against the brick wall like he’d just stepped out for a sandwich and some sun.
He didn’t say anything at first—just nodded and led us to the alley behind the deli, where the dumpsters masked the view from the street, then he pulled out his phone.
“I think I figured out what’s going on with those officers we’ve been watching,” he said.
Judd crossed his arms. “The racial profiling complaints?”
Kapono nodded. “Yeah, but it’s deeper than just harassment. They’ve been targeting specific families. Pushing hard—constant stops, visits, code violations, all of it.”
He swiped through a few files and then held the phone out.
“Look at these.”
I leaned in. Deed records. Transfer dates. Ownership changes. Property values.
“Tell me those addresses don’t look familiar.”
Judd’s brow furrowed. Kai leaned in closer.
“Wait a minute,” I said, scrolling through. “These were all flagged properties. Most of these families left town in the last year.”