Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
All of it.
Everything.
His whole life.
His dads’ life.
Both of his dads.
And he lay in that bed with Georgie in his arms and what had become their cat on his pillow, and he knew what he’d been looking for.
He knew what his path was.
He knew what his life was about.
He thought it was big.
He thought it was dramatic.
Being a soldier in a war.
A man on a mission.
A brother with a purpose.
But it was simple.
It was just…
This.
Your house dark and quiet.
And your woman in your arms.
Happy and safe.
Chapter Eleven
Chaos Strikes Again
Dutch
“You have got to be…fucking…kidding me,” Dutch groused when his phone ringing woke them both the next morning, him on his stomach, Georgie again curled into his back.
“Gluh,” she mumbled, pressing closer as Dutch reached for the phone.
He saw on his bedside clock it was late morning, they’d slept way in, it was after ten.
They should have set an alarm.
He grabbed his cell and didn’t know what to think when he saw it said Eddie Calling.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“What?” she asked.
He twisted. She shifted.
He caught her sleep-cute eyes.
“Eddie.”
“Oh boy,” she said.
He took the call with a, “Yo.”
“I don’t even know what to say,” Eddie replied.
“You woke me up in bed with my woman,” Dutch told him.
“Then whatever it is, I best get to sayin’ it.” Eddie Chavez sounded amused.
“I’d be obliged,” Dutch returned, moving more, so he was up in bed, back to the headboard, Georgie moving too, to stick close.
“Jessica Browbridge, I’m thinkin’ you know who I’m talkin’ about, strolled in bright and early this morning, tweaked as all fuck, falling all over herself with apologies, doing her best to impress on us just how very upset she was at the time she falsely reported to police officers she was in the middle of an attempted rape when her assailant became a killer and shot Khalon Stephens. She shared effusively how much she liked her neighbors. They were nice. The wife gave her Christmas cookies. The husband fixed her sink and switched out her smoke detectors when one started acting up. The kids were always nice and respectful.”
The more Eddie said about how the Stephenses had looked after that woman, the more Dutch thought he was going to be sick.
“Instead,” Eddie continued, “she shares she was having one helluva tiff with her boyfriend who’d found out she was sleepin’ with some other guy. Stephens shows when this guy is in the throes of bein’ seriously fuckin’ pissed his piece is steppin’ out on him, so much so, he’s jackin’ her up and brandishing a weapon. Since he is, as she put it, ‘not himself,’ he lost it when Stephens arrives. So Stephens takes a bullet.”
“Holy shit,” Dutch whispered.
“Yeah.” Eddie did not whisper.
Georgie pressed closer.
He gave her his eyes.
When he did, she read them and hers got big.
“She gave us a name,” Eddie carried on. “And incidentally, Hank and me are close when this is goin’ down, but Hank’s on the phone with Lee, talkin’ about Lee and Indy lookin’ after his and Roxie’s kids so Roxie and him can hit Breckenridge to do some skiing, ’cause they got whacked with a huge early snowfall last night, and they’re feelin’ some slope time and then some alone time. I overhear Browbridge. Hank overhears her. Lee has already filled both of us in that he and his boys are on the job and they know where Carlyle Stephens is and what he saw. The detectives get a name. Unsurprisingly there’s a mugshot. Hank texts that to Tack, and a judge is called out of his bed early on a Saturday morning for a warrant.”
His heart racing, Dutch curled his hand around the back of Georgie’s neck and brought her closer.
Eddie kept talking.
“Browbridge is now a font of information and can share where he is. And as such, James ‘Jimmy D’ Dooenck was picked up five minutes before I phoned you. He’s been charged with murder. And as cooperative as she was, the minute the man was cuffed, she was charged with false reporting and accessory.”
“Fucking A,” Dutch pushed out.
“Chaos strikes again,” Eddie said.
When he did, Dutch stared unseeing at Georgie.
“Now, as a cop, there is no way in fuck I’d advise a citizen to charge into an uncertain situation. As a man, and the man I am, I get it, and so does every cop I know. And I’ll tell you what, this case has been stickin’ in all of our throats. So you got our gratitude. And the officers on this case are gonna push hard neither of them get a deal. No matter that woman finally did the right thing, she’s been lying for three months. And no matter what else they’re involved in, and I suspect you know what I’m talkin’ about with that too. But I’m gonna warn you, and I’ll do it advising you warn Carlyle Stephens and his family, if they got good shit to stop bad shit floating around the streets of Denver, they’ll probably both swing deals.”