Page 1 of Hawke

1 - HAWKE

DENVER, COLORADO

Despite the falling snow, the ground beneath my heavy boots was nothing but dirty slush. In the winter, Denver was a lot like my former home in Northern Virginia. The frigid, mountain air and heavy precipitation only succeeded in souring my already bad mood. I had been asleep when I received a call from the local authorities about an arrest outside what would soon be the front door to Syn. Having my club in the headlines before it even opened wasn’t something I wanted or needed.

Frustrated, I’d gotten out of bed and now was standing outside with my hands tucked inside the deep pockets of my coat. My face burned from the sharp wind whipping across my cheeks. There were a hundred other places I would rather be, especially at this time of night.

Yellow police tape blocked off the front of the building as one of the officers apprehended the perp inside. Evidently, there’d been two separate crimes committed, but I had only found out about the break-in when I’d arrived on the scene. Even more irritated at this point, I demanded to speak to the one in charge.

“I’ll be right back, Mr. Hawkins.”

Now, I was stuck here waiting. Having the place barricaded off was the last thing I needed when a construction crew would be there first thing in the morning. It was the third week of January, and if I ever hoped to have the inside done before Valentine’s Day, I knew I needed to get started on it. My plan had been to open Syn with a masquerade party, so I was determined to make sure these random events didn’t cause any insurmountable setbacks.

Fuck.I had forgotten all about having booked an appointment in the morning with the company that would plan the grand opening.

If the scene was going to take any length of time to be swept and cleared, it’d be best to cancel the booking and reschedule for a later date. That was all but impossible now since I’d set up an 8:00 a.m. meeting. It was now after midnight and I didn’t even remember the name of the planner or her company. I had gotten a few recommendations, then picked the one that had availability. All I could recall was the assistant’s name, Sherry.

That’ll do me a hell of a lot of good now.

So far, this investment had been one issue after another. From the holdup with the building permits to getting the utilities checked and turned on. I’d thought when those two problems had finally been solved, that things would get back on track. Little did I know abandoned buildings like the one I’d purchased attracted drug dealers, prostitutes, and worse to the area. I should’ve never purchased this property, but hindsight was twenty-twenty. Growing more impatient, I dug my phone out of my pocket, then checked the time on the home screen.

For fuck’s sake. What are they doing in there?

My question seemed to be answered when I heard voices, then saw a police officer emerge from the interior with some juvenile delinquent in handcuffs. I was initially struck by the sight. The kid couldn’t have been any older than thirteen or fourteen. Dark, shaggy hair hung underneath his left eye. More saddened now than annoyed, I watched the child as he was led to, then stuffed into the back seat of the cruiser.

Our eyes met. The hollowness in them reminded me of my youth, back when I was a different person in a much different life. Somewhat haunted to this very day by the things I’d seen and done during that time, I could only shake my head.

Hopefully, the guy walking toward me was the one in charge. Just as I was about to speak, the man beat me to it. “Are you Mr. Hawkins?”

“Yeah,” came my gruff response. “What the hell happened in there?”

“Stay here for a few minutes, please,” he instructed and walked over to the car with the kid inside.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

I watched the two officers as they talked to one another. Time was money, and if I couldn’t get everything cleared, I’d rapidly waste both. In addition to my dwindling patience, the weather was getting even more dreadful. Even though Washington, D.C., got its share of cold and snow, I’d yet to acclimate to what I’d been told was normal in Denver this time of year.

Deciding to turn my focus away from the officers, I looked at the building. There were no chalk outlines, so that’d been a plus. Without any sign of serious injury, hopefully the only crime committed was something that could be wrapped up fairly soon so I could get back to my hotel and some semblance of warmth.

As the officers continued to talk, I looked at the backseat of the car. The kid had his face pressed against the window as he stared at me with dead eyes.What was his story?I shook my head wryly, knowing it could be any number of things.

I’d once been in a similar state. Having been in and out of foster homes since I was eleven, I had gotten into my fair share of trouble. Some of it had been minor infractions, but others had been more serious. If it hadn’t been for Caine Stephens, there was no telling where I’d be today. The options pretty much came down to jail or death. Like the kid, the two of us had once been, the boy currently watching me seemed to be on the same path.

“Sorry for the delay,” an officer said, interrupting my thoughts. I turned and saw the man’s outstretched hand. “My name’s Jack.”

By habit, I shook his hand. “What the hell happened in there?”

Jack looked between me and the car before responding. “Whiteside and I had been patrolling the area when we noticed what appeared to be a drug deal in process. We caught this kid on the corner trying to sell pills to a few others.”

“At this time of night?” I asked the question, but didn’t wait for an answer. Remembering the busy day ahead of me, I looked over my shoulder at my property. “Are you going to remove that tape any time soon?”

The officer chuckled, then called to the detective I had seen earlier. He was currently exiting the property. “Are we all wrapped up in there, Santiago?”

The man gave a curt nod, but didn’t say anything as he began removing the police tape. Relieved that it’d be gone, I turned back to Jack. “Does this type of thing happen a lot in the area?”

“It’s a hit or miss, really,” he responded, then reached into his pocket for a card, which he presented to me. “There’s been great strides made in Lo-Do over the last few years, and while we do patrol the area regularly, I’d suggest you get a camera or two for the place. I saw tools and other machinery inside. A lot of these kids come from impoverished homes and will steal anything that could score them money at a local pawn shop.”

“I’ll get a system installed,” I responded, mentally adding that to my already large to-do list.

---