Page 86 of Phoenix Rising

“Hey, guys, wait up.”

Reese turned to see Detective Beaumont jogging after them. They’d just left her office. What could she want now?

“We got a hit on the second woman found with Paige Stockton. Her name was Riva Hernandez. She was a local barista but also worked as one of those furries. Didn’t you attend a session?”

Her mouth kept moving, but Reese zoned out. Her words triggered something in his brain. His mind zipped back to a picture he’d seen on the wall of the furmeet. That tattoo. You couldn’t see much of it, but it looked familiar. He was sure he’d seen it before. He turned to Audria and Talia. “You said a man with an eagle tattoo gave Tilly Paige’s necklace?”

Audria nodded. “She said it was an angry bird.”

“When we asked if it was an eagle, she said it was,” Talia added.

“Could it have been a hawk?”

Talia and Audria exchanged looks and nodded. “She might not have known the difference between them,” Talia explained.

“It belonged to—”

Pop, pop, pop, pop.

Gunfire sounded, and Reese’s only thought was to cover Audria. She had the same idea, and they collided to land in a heap on the ground. As quickly as it started, it was over. Then tires screeched, followed by a thunderous crash.

Chapter Thirty

While Audria, Reese, Talia, and Hunter took care of things with the local FBI office and the Sedona police, Christian met with a Drug Enforcement Agency task force out of Phoenix. He’d contacted them about the drug trade doing business in the area.

Yogi Vishnu seemed to be the weakest link, so they approached him first. He’d folded like an origami lotus flower, admitting to purchasing cocaine from Vincenzo Fusco. After intense questioning, Christian was convinced he was only buying, not selling.

Next, they targeted Raphael Ramsey. Christian solicited the help of Terry Hammond, the head of security at Aguas Tranquilas Resort and Spa. He’d been off duty but came in at Christian’s request. Christian wanted the man to get partial credit for the bust.

Christian walked into Waterfall first and took a seat at the bar. It was the wee hours of the morning, and they would close soon.

Ramsey tipped his head. “I remember you. Scotch on the rocks?”

Terry joined him, and Ramsey’s features tightened. “Terry. What’s up?”

“Let’s go in the back to talk.”

“What? Why? Is this about that break-in earlier? I already told you I had nothing to do with that.”

“It isn’t,” Christian assured him.

With a frown, Ramsey tossed his rag on the counter and followed them into the back room. When confronted with video proof of his dealing, he’d snitched on his cohorts, fingering Vincenzo Fusco as the head of the drug trade in the area.

That left Playa himself. The DEA obtained his address, and Christian rode with them to execute a search warrant. Fusco’s home was in the hills surrounding Sedona and was a showstopper, much like the one BeBe had found for the COBRA Securities team to use, minus the heightened protections. Fusco had a security detail, and they tried to assert their authority, but they were no match for the DEA. Playa was in custody before he could scream for a lawyer. Hopefully, his car would be repossessed and repainted. Christian considered it a crime to desecrate a fine, high-performance automobile like Fusco had done to his Mercedes.

Christian left the drug enforcement team to do their jobs and headed to the police station to join his coworkers. He braked at a stop sign and glanced over to see a group conversing in the parking lot. Everything happened in slow motion. He heard the staccato pops of an automatic rifle. The cluster of people hit the ground. His head swiveled to see a gun protruding from a sedan before the driver floored it and fled the scene.

Christian didn’t even think. He stepped on the accelerator and slammed into the car as the driver was attempting to make a getaway. Anticipating the airbag, Christian had a knife ready to slice it open and was out of the SUV before the other vehicle stopped spinning. He whipped open the door, reached over and unbuckled the belt, and flung the perp on the ground.

“Ow, my arm’s broken,” the man wailed. Blood poured from his nose, but Christian didn’t care. He wrenched the man’s arms behind his back, ignoring the shrieks of pain, and slapped on flex cuffs. When the man kicked out his feet, Christian cuffed them, too. He stood and glanced inside the wrecked vehicle to see the weapon lying on the passenger seat. The man could complain all he wanted, but he had him dead to rights.

#

When no more gunfire sounded, Reese reached for Audria and clasped her face. “Are you okay, babe?”

“Yes.”

He turned his head. “Talia, Hunter?”

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