Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“I appreciate you making yourselves available on such short notice. I want to fill you in on developments in the case before tonight’s news cycle.” He was smiling as he spoke.
“Developments?” his grandfather said hopefully.
“Did something happen?” his grandmother asked. “Have you finally arrested my son’s killer?”
“A lot has happened today,” he confirmed. “We’ve arrested all of the Knight cartel’s first and second tier lieutenants, and as we anticipated, the scouts are quickly turning. We have witnesses, documents, photographs, videos. Our case is ironclad. None of them will get out of this.”
“What about John Jones?” Jule asked. He cared more about Tor than he did about anything else his father’s people had been doing, and Tor couldn’t be free as long as his father was after him. “Did you finally get him?”
“We did. Or at least, we tried to.” The chief started to smile and then he cleared his throat, put on a serious expression, and propped his arms on the table, fingers laced together. “Jones is stubborn and he did not succumb willingly. He drew fire and left our officers no choice. He was DOA at the scene. Three of his lieutenants and two of our officers were also hit in the shoot-out. I don’t have details on the Knights yet, but our officers’ injuries are not life-threatening, and the doctors anticipate complete recoveries for both of them.” He seemed unable to contain his smile any longer. “I realize this has been a long time coming but this was the best possible outcome. Better than we had hoped. John Jones is out of the picture for good.”
For once, Jule agreed with Chief Montez. He had to get in touch with Tor, had to share the news. He would drive to the house, ask one of his brothers to call him. Maybe Tor could come home that night. Maybe Tor could finally stay.
“Thank you, Chief Montez,” his mother said. “We are grateful for your work getting justice for Harold.”
His grandfather nodded but he looked too choked up to speak. He put his hand over his grandmother’s, who was dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.
Jule tapped his foot against the floor and his fingers against the table. He was desperate to leave but he couldn’t walk out on his mother and grandparents during such an emotional moment. Hopefully the chief would end the meeting soon and they could all be on their way.
“I understand this hasn’t been an easy process and I’ve appreciated your patience. There is one more thing that I want to share with you.” He picked up his phone, pressed a button, and held it to his ear. “Sara, please get him now, and remember, don’t tell him I have people in my office, just say I want to talk to him.” He set the phone down. “As you may remember, we had a lot of trouble getting a foothold into the Knights cartel. There was one exception. He successfully engineered and implemented our strategy. He led this case on the ground from day one. I am not using hyperbole when I tell you that absolutely nobody else could have accomplished this outcome. I’ve never had the privilege of working with anyone as dedicated, tenacious, and insightful. He has been living deep, deep undercover for over twelve years. Only a couple of us knew about his role, and even now that it’s over, he has been adamant that he will not accept any public recognition, but I believe it’ll be good for everyone involved that you meet him.”
A knock sounded. The chief rose, strode to the office door, and opened it.
“You need to see me, Chuck?”
Jule’s entire body went ice cold, his heart seemed to stop, and his jaw dropped.
“Come in.” Chief Montez faced the room and said, “This is Lieutenant Torrence Dunworthy. He is the person responsible for closing this case.”
Tor stood perfectly still just inside the office, clearly not having expected this audience. Jule catalogued every detail as his brain slowly clicked back to life. A black T-shirt under a canvas button down, a pair of 501s that Jule loved because of how they clung to his ass, and the boots whose leather gained richness, depth, and distinction with each passing year. A tiny white scar above his left eyebrow that he’d gotten racing shopping carts in fifth grade; they’d won the race. Hair buzzed low enough to show the missing line on top from when he’d scraped it freshman year jumping a fence. Strong hands that had pushed him and held him for as long as he could remember. And the most beautiful eyes Jule had ever seen.
It took him a few seconds to unlock his muscles and catch his breath, and then he shoved his chair back, leaped to his feet, and threw himself against Tor. “Holy fuck.” His entire body trembling, lungs heaving, he curled around Tor and squeezed him tightly. “Holy fuck.”