Page 10 of Marked for Danger

With a grin lifting one corner of his lips, Dec took the offered weapon before helping Grady pull their suspect to his feet.

“You’re cops.” Torres continued with his games. “It’s in my blood to run when the pigs come knockin’.”

A winded Declan joined them, his dark brows arching high. “Pigs?” He blew out a huffed breath. “Now that’s just hurtful, Alvie.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Alvarez Hugo Torres,” Grady recited their perp’s full name and then his Miranda Rights. “You have the right to remain silent…”

Seconds later, the visibly agitated criminal tried jerking himself free. “Don’t know what you think you have on me, but I don’t know nothin’ about nothin’.”

“Your arrest warrant disagrees.” Motion to Grady’s left caught his attention. “Speak of the devil.”

Detectives Jacobs and Eden had just exited their vehicle and were making their way to the party.

Standing right at six-feet, thirty-two-year-old Blake Jacobs had joined Major Crimes a year before Grady made the move from Chicago to Denver. The man had short brown hair, dark eyes, and a face women fell all over themselves to gawk at.

Blake’s counterpart, however, was about as opposite from Jacobs as she could get. With one exception…

Kimberly Eden was every bit as capable as any man on their team.

Though you wouldn’t think it at first glance, the five-foot-nothing former beauty queen was a trained sniper. The pretty blonde was also one of the sharpest, most dogged detectives Grady had ever had the pleasure to work with.

Just like the rest of his new unit.

“Damn.” Blake offered them a cocky grin. “Looks like we missed all the fun.”

“Fun. Sure.” Grady began leading Torres toward his and Declan’s car. “That’s what we’ll call it.”

Torres kept on with his empty vows and bullshit innocent act. The grip Grady had on the other man’s arm tightened, his voice carrying the weight of authority as he gave their suspect instructions.

“Stand here and don’t move.”

In minutes, the entire block was filled with lights of blue and red. The ride back to the station felt miles longer than it actually was thanks to Torres’ non-stop yapping. But by the time Grady and Dec had him cuffed to a table in one of their unit’s six interrogation rooms, the arrogant gang member’s attitude quickly changed.

“Recognize these?” Grady slapped three eight-by-tens on the table in front of Torres.

Without so much as a sideways glance, their suspect shook his head with a quipped, “Nope.”

“Look at the pictures, Alvarez.” Declan’s order was stern.

The young thug kept his stare forward.

Grady smiled. Pulling out a chair, he sat down in front of Torres and began gathering up the first two pictures. “That’s okay, Alvie. These two aren’t that important, anyway. Because we’ve already got you on this one…” he picked up the third picture and held it directly in front of the other man’s face.

Though it was slight, Grady noticed a small twitch of Torres’ right eye.

There it is.

“That’s right, Alvie. We can place you at the scene of the crime the night poor Juan Gomez was shot.”

“You’ve got the wrong guy.”

“Actually, we’ve got the exactrightguy.” Declan picked up a remote and activated the small, wall-mounted flatscreen in the corner of the small room.

The three watched the CCTV footage showcasing none other than Alvarez Torres.

“See that guy running there?” Grady turned his serious gaze back to the young convict. “That’s you. And according to the timestamp on this video, it matches the medical examiner’s estimated time of death for Gomez.”

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