Chapter 10

Kissing Isaiah was amazing. But all too soon, reality seeped into her brain. She broke off from the kiss, resting her forehead on his chest for a moment to steady herself before stepping back out of his arms.

"I—uh." She had no idea what to say. She honestly wasn't sorry for kissing him. "This probably won't work," she finally said. "I'm obviously attracted to you, but that's not enough."

A half smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I'm obviously attracted to you, too, and that is enough. Other things can be worked out."

Could they? A flare of hope lightened her heart, but then she ruthlessly crushed it out. "I don't think so. There's too much we don't agree on. Let's just focus on being friends, okay?"

There was a flash of hurt in his blue eyes, but he nodded. "Of course. I'll always be your friend, Rae."

The way he used the shortened version of her name made her silly pulse kick up again. What was wrong with her? She didn't do things like this. Kissing a pastor? Really?

"We need to get back to work." Lame as the excuse might be, it was the best she could do. And for a moment, she couldn't remember what they'd been working on prior to this.

Her fault. She shouldn't have told him about her mother. About her childhood. Was he right about God sparing her from being raped? Maybe.

She tried to clear her mind from that amazing kiss. One she'd initiated. She gave herself a mental shake.

Donte Wicks and mug shots. That's what they'd been working on. Edging past Isaiah, she returned to the computer, logging back in and pulling up mug shots. Then she did a search to get Donte's jail photo up on the screen.

Isaiah came up beside her, so close she could feel the warmth radiating from him. She forced herself to examine Donte's features. "This is the guy who you worked for, right?"

"Yeah. That's Donte." Isaiah tapped the screen. "But the scar above his left eyebrow? That's new. Well, not new as it doesn't look fresh but must have happened before his arrest nearly ten years ago."

She nodded, wondering if the attack that had left a scar was part of the reason Donte was seeking revenge. There was absolutely no evidence of Donte being involved in hiring Hugo Morrison, but it was one working theory.

The other theory was that the Chief, whoever that was, had hired Hugo Morrison.

"I wonder how Donte got arrested," Isaiah said, as he dropped into the chair at the table. "It looks like that didn't happen until five weeks after I was shot. I was at the house of corrections by then. I was only in the hospital for two weeks. And I never gave up his name, at least not that I remember."

"Maybe Gabe can get Donte's arrest report too." She turned away to text Gabe, desperate for something to do. The idea of spending the rest of the afternoon and evening with Isaiah made her antsy. They'd been spending too much time together. She would ask Grayson to swap places with her, but she was on administrative duty after shooting Morrison. Grayson and the others were on full duty and more valuable to the team.

"I'll keep going through the mug shots," Isaiah said.

"Thanks." She paced the length of the living area, wishing Gabe would get back to her. And that Isaiah would find something for them to go on. There had to be something behind these attacks.

When her phone rang, she almost wept with relief when she saw Gabe Melrose's name on the screen. "What do you have for me?"

"I'm sending you the arrest reports for Isaiah Washington and Donte Wicks," he said. "And I was also able to find out that Wicks has been out on parole for the past ten days."

"You're kidding." What were the chances of that? First Donte Wicks gets out on parole, then the attacks against Isaiah begin. "He could be the one who hired Hugo Morrison."

"Maybe, although I'm not sure where he would have gotten the cash to hire a hit man," Gabe said. "Seems more likely he'd do the deed himself."

That was true, but the timing was too much of a coincidence. "Thanks, Gabe. I need the name and address of Donte's parole officer. Meanwhile, I'll check out those reports."

She heard him sigh, but he simply said, "Got it."

"He's really out on parole, huh?" She turned to see Isaiah looking at her. "I have to admit I'm surprised I haven't seen him hanging around the old neighborhood."

"Maybe he was avoiding your church." She shrugged. "I really think he's a part of this. We don't know that Morrison is the one who took a shot at you from the abandoned warehouse. Maybe that was Wicks."

"No, they'd have come for me together," Isaiah said. "And with two against one, they'd have already succeeded in taking me out."

She shivered at the thought of losing him. Then reluctantly agreed with his assessment. "Okay, so Morrison is the shooter. He's working either on behalf of Wicks or the Chief."

"Wicks just got out, so I don't see how he can have enough money to pay Morrison. Even if he was able to slide back into the drug trade, ten days isn't enough time to make that kind of money."

And he would know, she realized. "Yeah. I hear you. I still want to talk to Wick's parole officer. Maybe he can fill in the gaps."

"Donte would need a stable address and a job," Isaiah said thoughtfully. "That's a condition of being on parole."

"We can get that information from the parole officer too." She was relieved to have something to focus on. "There may be time today to get over there."

"By five?" Isaiah frowned. "That only gives us a hair over twenty minutes."

"Let's head out to the Jeep. You can bring the laptop along." She pulled the key fob from her pocket and took a moment to tuck her weapon into her ankle holster. "I'll call Gabe on the way."

"Fine with me." Isaiah rose and joined her at the door. They left the suite and hurried outside. Large clouds had rolled in, bringing the threat of a May thunderstorm. She hoped the weather would hold off for a while yet.

She called Gabe once they were seated. "I need that parole office address," she said. "We want to get there before they shut down for the day."

"Cool your jets, Rae. I was working on that," he said with a hint of exasperation. "Okay, here goes." He rattled off the address. She glanced at Isaiah who was nodding as he listened.

"I know where it is," he said. "Thanks, Gabe."

"Anything else?" There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"No, but thank you." She ended the call, refusing to feel guilty. Gabe would get over it, and they were on a tight timeline. She glanced at Isaiah. "Where to?"

"It's the same parole office I had. Take the interstate to Locust. I'll tell you from there."

"Got it." She headed north. "I hope the traffic isn't too bad."

He didn't say anything more, other than giving her directions on where to turn. Thankfully, they arrived at the parole office with five minutes to spare.

She jumped out from behind the wheel and hurried inside with Isaiah. The short, heavyset African American parole officer was shrugging into a light raincoat. He glared at them. "We're closed. Come back tomorrow."

"I'm MPD officer Raelyn Lewis." She pulled out her badge. "I know it's time for you to leave, but I need five minutes."

"I'm done for the day." He didn't seem to care about her status as a cop. "Come back tomorrow."

"Officer Ragland?" Isaiah stepped forward. "Do you remember me? Isaiah Washington? You were my parole officer too."

The officer narrowed his gaze, then slowly nodded. "Yeah, I do remember you. It's been a long time."

"Eight and a half years," Isaiah agreed. "There have been several attempts to kill me over the past few days. We would like to know Donte Wicks home address and place of employment to make sure he's not involved."

To her surprise, Officer Ragland's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Oh yeah? You think Donte has come after you?"

"Yes, sir." Isaiah smiled. "That should only take one minute, and then we'll be on our way."

"Fine." Officer Ragland stomped toward the desk and sighed loudly as he logged back in. She found herself holding her breath as he pulled up the information. He scribbled notes on a sticky note, then logged off the computer and shut it down. "Here." He handed the note to Isaiah rather than to her. "Donte is supposed to be living with his aunt Corrine Lorry. Let me know if you find out he's responsible for those attacks against you."

"We will," Raelyn said, trying to take control of the situation. "I'm sure it won't take much to revoke his parole."

"Drugs, a weapon, or missing too much work," Officer Ragland agreed. "I hope you get to arrest him. He's a bad dude," Ragland added with a dark frown.

"Thanks again." Isaiah turned to the door, giving her a look that implied she should follow. She would have rather grilled Officer Ragland for more information regarding Donte Wicks and why he considered the guy to be dangerous but told herself to be satisfied with getting the addresses.

They could always come back the following day if needed.

"Yes, thank you." She followed Isaiah outside and lowered her voice. "I'm a little surprised the same parole officer is here after all this time."

"I'm not." He arched a brow. "It's not as if being a parole officer is a lot of work. They do their follow-ups as told, and if someone doesn't show, they call the police. They're paid by the state and have state benefits, including a decent pension. They can retire after twenty-five years with a full pension. I'm sure Ragland only has a few years to go before he's done with this job forever."

She scowled and yanked the Jeep door open. "You make it sound as if that's the goal for all cops."

"Not all, but many." He flashed a smile. "You're one of the good ones, Raelyn. And I know there are others. But I've come across some apathetic officers too."

She didn't want to admit he was right about that because she'd seen some of those same officers. In her opinion, there weren't that many who were just going through the motions, but even one in ten was too many. She changed the subject. "Let's head to Donte's aunt's home address first."

He nodded in agreement, and they both slid into the Jeep. She sat for a minute, waiting for him to pass over the note.

"Interesting. This is only eight blocks from your church." They'd caught Hugo Morrison red-handed at Isaiah's home, but she couldn't help but think Donte was involved in some way too. "I'd be surprised if he didn't know you were the pastor there."

"I don't think Donte cares about church one way or the other, much less who performs the services each Sunday," he said mildly.

"But you serve free meals, and that's the sort of thing that gets noticed." She didn't bother to hide her exasperation.

He could downplay Donte's involvement all he wanted, but she knew better. Donte Wicks likely discovered Isaiah Washington was the church pastor. One thing about these sorts of neighborhoods. People might pretend there's nothing bad going on, but they also knew far more about what happened around the neighborhood than they were willing to admit to.

This place wasn't much different from the south side of Chicago. High crime rates, a deep distrust of the police, and the unwillingness to talk to outsiders.

Yeah, she knew full well there were plenty of hidden secrets here. She could only hope they'd get some intel from Donte Wicks himself.

Or evidence of a parole violation so she could toss him back in jail.

Isaiah didn't wantto admit how shocked he was to discover Donte lived so close to the church. If not for catching Hugo Morrison in the act of shooting at Raelyn, he'd have been certain Donte was responsible.

He must have given up Donte's name when he was a patient at Trinity Medical Center. And those officers had used that intel to find and arrest Donte. They would have had to catch him in the act, since no one had bothered to come and take his formal statement about Donte's role in the drug-running operation. And they likely couldn't use his statement in a court of law since he'd been under the influence of pain medications.

He swallowed hard and concentrated on scanning the neighborhood, searching for a threat. It was past five o'clock now and the place that Donte was working was a small manufacturing company that he doubted worked past five.

Either Donte would be home or he'd arrive there soon. Part of being on parole was wearing an ankle monitor. Not that those monitors were foolproof because they were only as good as the people watching them.

And he knew the so-called monitoring wasn't real time. Instead, the data would be downloaded, and then an arrest warrant would be issued. That took time and resources.

Five minutes later, Raelyn pulled up in front of a house that was dark. With the clouds swirling overhead, the houses around them had lights on inside.

But not this one, where Donte's aunt Corrine lived.

"Doesn't look promising," Raelyn said, throwing the gearshift into park and killing the engine. "But let's knock anyway. Maybe she's sleeping."

He reluctantly slid out to join her on the sidewalk. He didn't like being out in the open like this. Maybe the threat of rain would keep people in their homes.

Together, he and Raelyn mounted the steps to the house. It was in better shape than some of them, which may be why the parole board allowed Donte out in the first place. Raelyn knocked at the door, but there was no response.

He leaned in, listening intently. Still there was nothing. Not the sound of a muted TV or even a radio.

She tried again, with the same result. With a grimace, she turned and headed back to the Jeep. "Let's wait here for a few minutes. See if anyone comes home."

"If you're going to do that, we should park farther down the street." He slid into the passenger seat. "This is too obvious. If Donte sees the Jeep, he's likely to avoid coming home."

"Then he'd be in violation of his parole," she said.

He shook his head. "It's not enough. He could come up with a million excuses. The bus was late, or the traffic was bad, or the weather."

"Okay, okay. I'm moving." She started the engine and drove down the street. Then she made a U-turn to park on the opposite side of the road with a decent view of Aunt Corrine Lorry's house.

Then she shut down the engine again and sat back. "Patience isn't my strong suit," she muttered.

"Really? I never would have guessed."

She let out a low chuckle. "Yeah, well, I'm working on it."

He glanced at her, remembering with far too much clarity the impact of their kiss. The one she said shouldn't have happened.

The one where she made it clear that while she might be attracted to him, there would never be anything more between them.

He wanted to hold her close and to kiss her again. The more time they spent together, the more he realized how much they had in common. They'd both suffered difficult childhoods but had pulled themselves out of the gutter to make something of themselves. She'd gone through more than he had considering what her mother had done. He had only seen the light, literally, after being shot and nearly killed by Petey Dobbs.

Raelyn was an amazing woman.

And she wanted nothing to do with him.

Maybe it hurt a bit, but he'd get over it. He could handle rejection; it wouldn't be the first or likely the last. Shondra had left him for Beau, which had burned deep. Yet what bugged him the most was that Raelyn was ignoring the fact that the chemistry between them was off the charts. That they had something special that deserved a chance to grow into something more.

If she had the courage to let it.

"Is that Donte?" Her question pulled him from his thoughts.

At that moment, large drops of rain hit the windshield, making it difficult to see clearly. He leaned forward, trying to get a clear view of the guy walking down the street, a hoodie pulled up against the rain and no doubt to hide his features.

"Maybe." He glanced at her. "Should we get out and approach him?"

"Not yet." She kept her gaze on the rain-splattered windshield. "Let's see if he goes into Aunt Corrine's house."

The hoodie guy was walking fast, and sure enough, he turned to mount the stairs to his aunt's house.

Raelyn started the Jeep but turned the automatic headlights off as she pulled forward. Donte disappeared inside.

"Let's go." She killed the engine and slid out, ignoring the rain pelting them from the sky. Together, they ran up to the front door of Corrine Lorry's home. There was a slight overhang above the door that offered some protection from the rain.

There was a light on inside now. Raelyn knocked on the door, then hit the doorbell. There was no responding ringing sound coming from inside when she did so, making him think the doorbell was broken.

No one came to the door.

Raelyn knocked again, harder this time. "Donte Wicks! It's the police! Open up!"

Instantly, the light flicked off. Not a good sign.

Stubbornly, she thumped on the door again. "Police! Open up!"

Still nothing, and the tiny hairs on the back of his head lifted in alarm. All parolees knew they were supposed to cooperate with the police. It was another rule governing their ability to stay out of jail.

"Maybe that wasn't Donte," he said. "We couldn't see his face."

"You think Aunt Corrine has a bunch of guys living here?"

"No, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have a son of her own living here." He glanced around the deserted street, wishing they had more protection. "Let's go. We can come back tomorrow. Or meet up with Donte at work."

She shot him a frustrated glance, but then reluctantly nodded. "Okay, but I'm going to ask Rhy to issue a search warrant."

"This isn't your district, remember?" He couldn't explain why he was on edge. The rain didn't help. "Let's go. I think it's best if we get out of here."

"We came to talk to Donte Wicks," she said in protest. But then she turned and headed back down the stairs to the street.

"We know where he lives. And where he works." He quickly followed her down. "That was worth the trip. And he's home, so we know he's not out on the street selling drugs."

She didn't look convinced. And he couldn't blame her. He wouldn't put it past Donte to slip out later and do some drug dealing on the side.

That gave him an idea. He waited until they were both in the Jeep before turning to face her. "If Donte is selling drugs, he won't be out where the ankle monitor can be tracked. He'd have people coming to him."

Her expression brightened. "Of course, that makes perfect sense. I should have considered that for myself."

The thought hadn't entered her mind since she had never worn an ankle monitor. He almost said that the crook and the cop made a great team but decided that pointing it out would not help his case.

Raelyn drove the Jeep around the block, still keeping the headlights off, which made it even more difficult to see in the rain. She went slow, though, and soon they were back in their position along the opposite side of the road.

"I'm not sure they'll go to the front," she said, tapping her thumbs on the steering wheel. "I may have to go out back to watch the side door."

"No, I don't think that's a good idea." He tried to hide his alarm. "Let's just give it a few minutes, okay? No reason to get soaked more than we already are."

She frowned but didn't argue. They had each of their windows open an inch to keep the air flowing through. His damp clothes added a chill, but he ignored the discomfort.

He secretly hoped she'd get tired of sitting here and would decide to head back to the City Central Hotel. There was no reason for them to stick their necks out like this.

They could interview Donte tomorrow. He knew that being in this neighborhood after dark was not smart, especially for a woman.

A long silence stretched between them as they both remained focused on Aunt Corrine's house. The light had not come back on, which he found curious. Either Donte had seen the Jeep and suspected they were there for him, or he was just being extra cautious.

Maybe both.

There was no activity on the street either. The rain continued to pummel the earth, creating small rivers of water streaming down the sloped street.

"This isn't going to work," Raelyn finally said with a sigh.

He was about to agree when he heard two muffled pops.

Gunfire? From inside Corrine Lorry's house?

"Stay here." Raelyn pulled her weapon from her ankle holster, then slid out of the car. "Call 911 and request backup for possible gunfire."

"Wait! You can't go in there alone!" He used his disposable phone to dial 911 as Raelyn ignored his plea and rushed toward the house. After making the call to the dispatcher, letting her know Raelyn was on scene and needed backup, then he slipped the phone into his pocket and rushed out into the rain to follow her.

"Police!" Raelyn shouted, her voice muted by the rain. She tried the door, but it was locked. Then she kicked it with her foot.

It still didn't move. He came forward to help when he saw a dark shape near the corner of the house.

"Down!" He threw his arms around Raelyn, taking her down to the porch as more gunfire rang out. Then the sound stopped as abruptly as it had started.

The shooter was getting away!

"Get off me." Raelyn pushed at him. "We need to get inside."

He released her, managing to stand. Then he checked the door. The jam was broken, but the door didn't swing free. He kicked it for her, and this time it swung open.

"Me first." Raelyn pushed ahead of him, reaching for the light switch along the wall.

A lone lamp in the corner of the room flicked on. The prone figure of a man was sprawled on the floor face down. Even from the doorway, he could see the dark bullet holes on the back of the fallen man's T-shirt and blood was pooling beneath him. Isaiah rushed forward dropping to his knees and searching for a pulse.

There was nothing. He moved the man's head enough to see his face. Donte Wicks, down to the scar above is eyebrow.

Whoever had shot him had done so to make sure Donte would never talk to the authorities ever again.