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  COLD BLOODED

  Anne Patrick

  Cold Blooded

  Copyright © 2017 by Anne Patrick. All rights reserved.

  Edited by Shawna K. Williams

  Cover Design: selfpubbookcovers.com/FrinaArt

  ISBN-13:

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  Licensing Notes:

  This book is protected by Federal copyright laws. All rights are reserved and it is illegal to copy, scan, or in any way mechanically or digitally reproduce this book except for brief passages used in reviews and related articles. Requests for other uses should be directed to the author or publisher for written permission.

  Cold Blooded is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author‘s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Bible references used in Cold Blooded

  Jeremiah 1:5

  2 Corinthians 3

  Luke 11:9-10

  Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my wonderful readers.

  Thank you so much for your love and support, and for joining me on this amazing journey!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Detective Gwen Jamison gripped her service weapon with both hands and peered around the corner of the two-story building. A white tennis shoe stuck out from behind a dumpster several yards away. A large semi-truck sat idling in the cross street, blocking the alleyway. Her heart pounded with a full-blown adrenaline high. Each breath came fast and hard. Sirens whaled in the distance. What started as a follow-up interview in an armed robbery case had turned into a foot race that lasted over six blocks.

  Her partner, Detective Kris Todd rounded the corner of the alley, weapon drawn, and came to an abrupt stop right behind Gwen. "Backup is on the way."

  "We've got him cornered. There's no place for him to go." Gwen tucked the loose strands of her dark-blond hair behind her ear and peered around the building again. "Come on out, Stuart. We only want to talk to you."

  "No way. I'm not going back to jail."

  Gwen heard something scrape against metal. She spun around, saw him run toward the truck, and chased after him.

  "Gwen!"

  The suspect dove into the empty space beneath the tractor-trailer. Gwen shoved her 9mm back in her holster, snapped it shut, and lunged after him just as the truck began to move.

  "Stop!" Kris yelled.

  The semi slammed on its brakes.

  Before the suspect could scramble to his feet, Gwen tackled him by the waist. Her chin struck his collarbone, the percussion jarring her teeth. He brought his elbow back and Gwen ducked. She then grabbed his arm and twisted it as she dropped her knee down in the center of his back, pinning the man's forearm beneath her leg. He cursed as he withered beneath her. His other hand reached back, attempting to grab her. Gwen gripped her handcuffs in her right hand and with her left caught his wrist and snapped the cuffs on it. She then shifted her weight and bound his other wrist. As Gwen knelt beside the man, patting him down, his stench made her almost puke.

  "Stuart, you have to be the stupidest perp I've ever busted." She stood, jerked him to his feet and read him his rights.

  A whistle sounded a few feet from the back of the truck. "Nice," Detective Nick Harris complimented as he stopped beside her.

  His partner, Ron Chavez, stood next to him. "What're you trying to do; get yourself killed on your birthday?"

  Another man, whom she had never seen before, stood between them.

  Gwen ignored their puns and blew out a deep breath, thankful more than ever for her daily gym visits.

  "You must be Jamison." The stranger, dressed in a blue suit and maroon tie, hiked a brow at her. Reddish brown hair came to the tip of his shirt collar and he sported a well-trimmed beard and mustache.

  "Yeah, and you are?"

  "Lieutenant Ian McKean."

  Oh boy.

  "You want us to take him in for you?" Nick asked. "We're parked around the corner. It'll give you a chance to get acquainted with our new boss."

  Gwen met his smirk and gave him her you're so going to pay for this look. "Thanks guys."

  "I'll be along shortly," the lieutenant said.

  Ron took Stuart by his right arm and the three of them disappeared down the alley.

  "Where's Detective Todd?"

  "Right here, sir." Kris appeared from the front of the semi.

  The truck continued on through the alley as Kris joined Gwen. She extended her hand to their new boss. "It's nice to meet you, Lieutenant."

  "Detective." His expression softened as he shook her hand. "Missed you at the morning briefing."

  "Sorry about that."

  "My fault," Gwen volunteered.

  Lieutenant McKean shifted his gaze back to Gwen. "I figured as much. You've got yourself quite a reputation, Detective Jamison."

  "Yeah, well, what can I say…I'm passionate about my job."

  "The truth is, sir," Kris began to explain, "we've been looking for this guy for days and we just happened to see him on the way in."

  "At least you called for backup this time." His eyes continued to rest on Gwen.

  She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. If his intention was to intimidate her, it wasn't going to work. It was evident he had already been briefed on her from the captain and had already formed an opinion of her.

  His eyes narrowed on Gwen. "Am I gonna have trouble with you?"

  "I don't know. Am I gonna have trouble with you?"

  "We'll talk later, Detective."

  "Looking forward to it," Gwen snapped back.

  He shook his head and walked off. Gwen then turned to her partner with a smile.

  Kris glared at Gwen. "If you pull another stupid stunt like that, I'm not working another case with you. Got it?"

  Before Gwen had a chance to answer, Kris turned and headed down the alley.

  Gwen ran and caught up to her. "I'm sorry, Kris. The guy just met me, where does he come off—"

  "That isn't what I'm talking about and you know it."

  "Oh, you mean the semi…geez, Kris, the guy almost got away."

  Kris continued to walk without answering.

  Three blocks later, she still hadn't said a word. Gwen had taken similar risks with her life in the seven years they had known one another. It was in her makeup. Having lived off and on in the streets as a kid, Gwen wasn't as cautious as Kris, who had grown up in a loving and nurturing home. Gwen was more driven, too. Instead of a husband and three kids, Gwen had a cat. The job was her life. And she was very good at it.

  "He's our only suspect in three armed robberies," Gwen finally pointed out.

  Nothing. This was turning into a real crappy day.

  They finally reached their unmarked cruiser. Gwen fished the keys from her pocket and unlocked the doors. Kris jerked hers open and flopped down in the passenger seat.

  Gwen climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. "How long are you going to keep up the silent treatment?"

  Kris shot her another glare before reaching for the mike. She called dispatch and notified them they were in route to the station.

  Gwen checked her mirrors then pulled out into the late morning traffic. Shorewick, Arizona, with a population over seventy-five thousand, was a two-hour drive northwest of Phoenix. It didn't have nearly the crime rate of a larger metropolitan city, but there was enough of a criminal element to warrant a police force of a hundred-twenty-plus officers, a small crime lab, and a Criminal Investigations
Division with four full-time detectives. While each member in the unit had their own caseload, they often teamed-up on major cases.

  At the first red light Gwen came to, she glanced over at her best friend. "Come on. It's my birthday."

  "Yeah and if that truck hadn't stopped, it would've been your last one."

  Okay, she walked right into that one. "It wasn't as close a call as it appeared." In actuality, Gwen had no idea how close she had come to death because she was too busy thinking about apprehending their suspect.

  "Gwen, I lost one partner. I don't wanna ever go through that again."

  Gwen knew the story well. She'd heard it more times than she could remember. Prior to Kris earning her detective's shield, she and her first partner had answered a routine domestic call. The husband had beat up his wife and when Kris and her partner arrived on scene he became combative with them, pulled a shotgun from underneath a sofa cushion and shot and killed Mark Bechler. Had Kris not drawn her own weapon and returned fire, she, too, would be dead.

  "I already said I was sorry, Kris." Gwen pulled onto Gleason Boulevard. "Where's the forgiveness you're always preaching to me about?" The wounded expression that flashed across Kris's face frustrated Gwen even more. Kris's Christian faith was one of the things Gwen admired most about her friend.

  "You know I'm an idiot sometimes when it comes to taking risks. I'm not going to promise it won't ever happen again because…well…" Gwen shrugged her shoulders "…I don't know any other way to be. You're the sensible one. I'm the one who leaps without thinking. You're the yin to my yang. It's why we work so well together."

  "You're so full of it. You take ridiculous risks because you've got a one-track mind. Work is all you ever think about."

  "True. Again, yin to yang." Gwen turned onto Rodgers Parkway and drove another two blocks to the station. After pulling into the parking garage, she drove to the motor pool and chose the furthest spot from the attendant's booth. "Okay, let's be real honest here." Gwen shut off the engine and turned in her seat. "If I didn't push you to work an extra hour or two every now and then we wouldn't have the highest closer rate in the unit."

  "Are you saying I don't pull my own weight?"

  "That isn't what I said. You are a great detective with or without my help. But if we clocked out and went home every day when we're supposed to, we wouldn't solve a third of the cases we do."

  "Well we can't all be superwoman, Gwen. I have a family that comes first in my life."

  "I know, and I'm happy for you. You know that." Gwen once had her own family, too. Well, sort of. She had a husband until she caught him cheating on her. "All I'm saying is don't get mad at me because I'm more zealous about the job. We each bring something unique to this partnership. And when it comes to performance, you're just as good as I am. I'm just more headstrong."

  "You mean pigheaded and careless."

  "If you want to be mean about it."

  Kris chuckled as she shook her head.

  "So are we good?"

  "Yeah."

  They got out of the cruiser. "I guess I should be used to your recklessness by now," Kris said over the roof of the car.

  "You'd think."

  They both laughed.

  The motor pool attendant greeted Gwen with a smile.

  She tossed him the keys, took the clipboard he offered and signed in the car. "How you doing, Roger?"

  "Can't complain."

  She handed him back the sign sheet. "Have a good weekend."

  "You too, Detective. Oh, and happy birthday."

  Gwen cringed at his kind wish. She'd be glad when this day was over. "Thanks Roger." She thought of her last birthday. She'd been dating CSI Shawn Cooper. He'd picked her up on his motorcycle and they'd gone out to a nice dinner, where he had given her a gorgeous necklace. Afterwards, he had taken her dancing. Gwen suddenly missed Coop more than she had in the three months since they'd broken up. She considered giving him a call, maybe inviting him over for some Chinese takeout.

  "Did you hear what I said?"

  "No. Sorry."

  "I'll meet you in the interrogation room," Kris advised.

  "All right."

  "You okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine. Will you grab me a soda, please?"

  "Sure."

  *****

  Gwen went into the first interrogation room. Detective Harris stood next to the door with his arms folded. "He's all yours, Detective. Said he didn't want a lawyer."

  "Thanks, Nick."

  He left the room and Gwen laid a file containing Adkins' arrest record on the table. The twenty-one year-old had only been out of prison for six months, having done a two-year stint for felony burglary. He had several prior arrests for minor offences, including petty theft and a misdemeanor drug possession charge. Adkins had become a person of interest because he was the last customer seen leaving the third liquor store. Minutes later, the robber had entered wearing a black ball cap and bandana to conceal his identity. When Gwen and Kris had questioned Adkins, he'd given them an alibi that didn't pan out.

  "Look." Stuart leaned back in his chair. "The only reason I ran from you is because I knew you guys were gonna try and pin those robberies on me, and I didn't do them."

  "If you're so innocent, Stuart, why'd you give us a false alibi?" His live-in girlfriend had sworn she hadn't seen the man in three months.

  "She's lying, I swear. She's just mad at me because she thinks I cheated on her."

  "And you expect me to believe that?"

  "I don't even own a gun, lady. It's a violation of my parole."

  Gwen peered down at the man. "I'm guessing you broke parole when you went into the liquor store."

  "Okay, you got me there." He looked her straight in the eye. "I swear I didn't do those robberies, ma'am."

  "It's Detective."

  "Sorry. I'm telling you my old lady lied to you because she's sore at me. She even burnt all my clothes." He glanced down at the disheveled dress shirt he wore over dirty blue jeans. "My cousin loaned me these. It's all I got. Check with her neighbors. They'll tell you. The night of the second robbery, she had the car. I couldn't have gone anywhere even if I wanted to."

  Gwen mulled over his words. Judging from his stench and clothes, he was probably telling the truth. "Where are you staying?"

  He shrugged his shoulder. "Here and there."

  In other words, he was living on the streets and afraid to tell his parole officer. "You've gotta have a current address, Stuart, as part of your parole conditions."

  "I know," he answered softly.

  "Don't you have anywhere else to go?"

  "My cousin was letting me stay at his place until Wednesday. His wife told him to get rid of me. I'm still working, though. I'm on a cleaning detail with Emerson's. I get paid next week and I can get me a room at one of the boarding houses."

  Gwen sat down across from him and scanned his file for some hand written notes she had made after their first contact.

  "Did you get that scar from busting someone like me?"

  Gwen glanced at the thin, eight-inch, white line that ran along the inside of her left forearm. "Happened when I was a kid." She closed the file. "You were ordered to do drug counseling. Are you still going?"

  "Yes. I've been clean since I went to the pen. I don't wanna go back there."

  "When we questioned you before, you stated you didn't see anyone when you left the liquor store. Are you absolutely sure about that?"

  He nodded. "I would've told you if I had. I'm telling you the truth, Detective. I only ran from you today because I was scared."

  Except for being around the same height as their robber, he didn't fit the general description. Plus, the guy they were looking for was more organized.

  Kris came in the room and shut the door. "How's it going?" Kris handed Gwen her soda.

  "Keep an eye on him. I've got to make some phone calls." Gwen took his file and stepped out into the hall and went to another interrogation room two doors down. Ta
king her cellphone from her jeans pocket, she called Emerson's Detailing first and confirmed Stuart's employment. Next, she called his parole officer.

  "What can I do for you, Detective Jamison?"

  "I'm just doing a follow up on one of your parolee's. Stuart Adkins. Have you had any problems with him? Is he keeping with all his parole conditions?"

  "Yeah. I just met with his counselor last week. He hasn't missed a meeting. Has a good work history. May I ask why you're inquiring? He's not in any trouble is he?"

  "No, sir." Gwen's gut told her he wasn't their man, and it was usually right. "He's not in any trouble."

  "I'm glad to hear that. Stuart is a good kid. He's just had some bad breaks in life. Got mixed up with the wrong crowd. That sort of thing."

  "All right. I appreciate your time, sir."

  Gwen went to the squad room, grabbed the first pen she saw and jotted down a number on one of her business cards, along with: Somewhere you can stay until you get paid.

  "Interrogation over?" Nick asked from his desk a few feet away.

  "Just about. Are you working on your report?"

  "Just finished it."

  "Mind if I have a look?"

  "What're you checking for, spelling errors?"

  "No, smart-aleck." She needed to know if he and Ron had seen Stuart fighting with her. Gwen looked over the report. Unfortunately they had. That meant she would have to charge Stuart with resisting arrest by force, which was a felony and the charge would land him back in the pen. "I screwed up. I didn't identify myself."

  "Yeah, right." He looked up at her. She put on her most solemn face. "Are you serious, Gwen?"

  "I'm afraid so. I'm gonna have to turn him loose. He's not good for the robberies anyway."

  "Tough break."

  "Tell me about it." Gwen handed the report back to him then left the squad room. She normally didn't lie to her friends and co-workers but in this case she felt she was doing the right thing.

  Back in the interrogation room, Gwen took out her handcuff key and started toward Stuart.