Chapter 6

Raelyn leaned gratefully against Isaiah's chest, unable to keep her emotions in check. The house was just a brick-and-mortar building. Life was more precious than anything else. Yet the small ranch home represented her independence, her rise above the streets of Chicago's South Side.

And now it was gone.

When Isaiah gathered her close, she reveled in his embrace. It had been a long time since she'd been held by a man. At least two years.

Men generally disappointed her. Her last boyfriend had cheated on her because she had refused to jump into bed with him. She knew she was better off without Rob. But that didn't mean she was ready to trust again.

"We should get out of here, Raelyn," Isaiah whispered.

She nodded against him but didn't move away. Oddly, she was content in his arms. Maybe she didn't entirely trust that he was telling her the truth, but she knew one thing for certain: Isaiah would never hurt her.

After a long moment, she gathered her strength and determination to pull away, subtly swiping at her damp eyes. "Thanks." She avoided his gaze in the darkness. "I rarely fall apart like this."

"You didn't fall apart at all," Isaiah murmured. He reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears, sending a tingle of awareness down her spine. "You're the strongest woman I know."

She managed to pull herself together. This wasn't the time to be hyperaware of Isaiah as an attractive man. It wasn't as if she would ever be interested in dating a preacher. As soon as the thought formed, she had to amend it. Isaiah wasn't just a pastor, he had grown up on the streets of the city.

The same way she had. Ironically, they had that in common.

Maybe she and Isaiah were more alike than she cared to admit.

"We'd better head back to the American Lodge." She glanced back at her house, relieved to see the fire was mostly out. She'd have to call her insurance company. With a sudden jolt, she realized the only items she owned were the clothes she was wearing. And her car.

Fresh tears threatened, but she told herself there was no point in thinking about what she'd lost. Things. Possessions that could be easily, if costly, to replace. It wasn't as if she had personal items inside.

She hadn't wanted any photographs of her mother. The woman who'd refused to believe Kenny had tried to rape a thirteen-year-old kid.

No, she was better off on her own. Now and always.

"Raelyn..." He sighed as his voice trailed off. "I wish there was something I could do for you."

She squared her shoulders and nodded. "You can help by going through the mug shots tomorrow to find the man who attacked you. He must be involved in this."

"Of course." He rested his hand on her arm. "Come with me now. I'll drive us back to the motel."

"I can drive." She regretted her moment of weakness. "I'll be fine. Everything inside the house can be replaced."

He nodded in understanding and dropped his hand. She instantly missed the warmth of his fingers. Grayson was right, she shouldn't have come. All she'd done was fall apart during a time she needed to be on full alert. To find the assailant who had tried to kill Isaiah and now had also struck out at her personally.

With her back straight with steely determination, she slid in behind the wheel of her SUV. Isaiah didn't say anything, but his intense blue eyes glanced at her often. She did her best to ignore him.

The ride back to Brookland didn't take long, as it was half past three in the morning. She doubted she'd get any more sleep but knew they both needed to get more rest.

Come dawn, they'd have a long day ahead of them.

"What time would you like to head to the precinct?" Isaiah asked as they took the stairs up to their rooms.

She was going to suggest seven but then remembered Gabe didn't come in until eight. "Eight o'clock. We can grab something for breakfast on the way. Oh, and we'll need that replacement phone for you as well."

"I'll be ready." He flashed a lopsided smile. "Good night, Raelyn."

"Good night." She stepped back and closed the connecting door between their rooms. Not all the way, but enough to offer privacy.

The army had taught her to sleep under difficult circumstances, but the image of the flames engulfing her home were seared into her mind.

She'd set her phone alarm for seven a.m., and when the device chirped, she bolted upright, stunned to realize she had fallen asleep. Still, she felt groggy when she silenced the alarm and headed into the bathroom.

The motel rooms had small coffeemakers, and she gratefully brewed a cup. She'd need caffeine to help get her through the next several hours. As she sipped her coffee, she heard movement from Isaiah's room. Rising from the edge of the bed, she opened her side of the connecting door. His side was wide open, so she poked her head in.

"You're ready?" He was dressed and sipping coffee, too, although the shadow of stubble on his cheeks belied a restful night.

"Yes." He smiled. "I heard your alarm."

"Sorry about that." She should have considered the sound would wake him.

"Don't be. I'm anxious to be of service." He took another sip of his coffee. "We have time for a real breakfast. My treat."

He'd paid for their subs last night, too, and she appreciated his willingness to cover their meals. Especially now when she had no idea what her homeowner's deductible would cost. Who paid attention to that kind of thing? "Okay, let's hit the road."

He drained his cup and set it aside. She did the same, then headed out of the room and down the stairs. Scanning the area, she saw nothing threatening.

Yet after the attack on Isaiah and the fire, she knew they needed to get a clean vehicle. One that couldn't be traced to either of them.

After breakfast, she told herself. She'd work on that, along with getting a replacement phone and notifying her insurance company while Isaiah was going through mug shots.

"Any place in particular you'd like to eat?" She glanced at Isaiah.

"I'm afraid I don't know this area. Whatever you suggest is fine."

She nodded. "There's a great place called Rosie's Diner. Rosie is Irish and always has fresh baked goods to go along with her huge breakfast menu."

"That sounds great."

She'd learned about the place from the Finnegan family. Colin in particular was a fan favorite. She sobered, remembering how Colin Finnegan had fought the fire at her ranch house last night.

The diner wasn't too far from the precinct, and despite the early hour, the place was busy. Rosie was building a reputation, and if her business kept booming like this, she'd have to find a larger building.

She and Isaiah had to wait a few minutes for a booth to open. Rosie quickly cleared the dishes, then waved them over. The older woman's eyes brightened when she recognized her.

"Ach, Raelyn, nice to see you again, lass!" Rosie beamed at Isaiah. "And you've brought a guest. Who is this fine young lad?"

"Rosie, this is Pastor Isaiah Washington. Isaiah, the infamous Rosie."

"A pleasure to meet you." He sniffed the air appreciatively. "Is that an apple turnover I smell?"

"Good nose," Rosie said with a heartly laugh. "I'll be bringing you a sample soon. Coffee?"

"Yes, please." She and Isaiah took their seats across from each other as Rosie bustled off. "Isn't she amazing?"

"This is a great place," he agreed. "I haven't had home-baked goods in—forever."

"I hear you on that." She sat back, pleased that he liked the place. Then she wondered why it mattered. This was a temporary arrangement. It wasn't like their worlds would ever meet except in times of violence.

And wasn't that a sad thought? Yet this was the world they lived in, so she did her best to brush it off.

"I'd like to say grace," Isaiah murmured, after they had steaming coffee and fresh apple turnovers.

She was accustomed to this by now, so she rested her hands in her lap and bowed her head.

"Lord Jesus, we thank You for this food and for keeping us safe in Your care. We ask that You continue to provide guidance and strength as we seek those who wish us harm. Amen."

"Amen." Surprisingly, his words resonated within. She did feel stronger today and just as determined to find the man responsible. And for the first time, it occurred to her that she should thank God that she and Isaiah weren't sleeping in her ranch house last night. The way the big Black man may have assumed.

Isaiah took a bite of his apple turnover and nearly groaned. "This is the best ever!"

She sampled hers too. "Delicious."

By the time they'd finished their baked goods, their breakfasts arrived. Isaiah had ordered the full Irish, while she'd settled for a veggie omelet.

"This is worth every penny," Isaiah declared when they were finished. "I wish I lived closer so I could eat here more often."

"I have to be careful not to eat here on a regular basis, or I'd never fit into my uniform," she joked.

"Ach, lass, is there anything more I can get for you?" Rosie cleared their dirty dishes.

"Just the check, please." Isaiah grinned. "Thank you for the best breakfast I've ever had, Rosie."

"Ach, you're a sweet talker, aren't ya?" Rosie laughed. "I like that."

Isaiah left money on the table, then they both rose to their feet. They didn't linger as there was a line forming at the door.

"That was wonderful, Raelyn. Thanks." Isaiah settled in the passenger seat. "A very nice way to start what I'm sure will be a difficult day."

"Yes." She knew what he meant. It was important to take time to enjoy the smaller things in life. "It's too early to get a phone, so we'll head to the precinct. We need to find the man who attacked you."

"I pray I do."

They rode in silence to the precinct. She parked her SUV in the back. There were two undercover vehicles parked back there too. And she hoped Rhy would allow her to use one of them for the next day or so.

As they headed inside, the irony of the situation washed over her. It wasn't that long ago that Steele and Brock had been in tight spots, similar to what she faced now.

She could only hope that this investigation would come to a positive resolution the way theirs had.

She lifted her gaze to the blue, cloud-dotted sky. And maybe she and Isaiah would need God's help to make that happen.

The police precinctwas busy this morning. A few of the officers eyed Isaiah curiously, but most ignored him, intent on their respective tasks. Isaiah had to admit that it was interesting to see this side of law enforcement. Men and women doing their best to keep the community safe.

Like Raelyn and those she worked with. Of course, the neighborhood he lived in didn't have a positive attitude toward the police. And he was ashamed to admit that he'd once felt the exact same way.

It wasn't an issue of race, although that sometimes played a role. There were plenty of Black and Hispanic officers too. No, the real issue was poverty, lack of education, and gun violence.

Without money, the residents on the north side couldn't buy cars or afford to travel for work. He knew, better than most, the lure of easy money outweighed legit employment at minimum wage.

He stifled a sigh, knowing that he could only do so much. And today that meant finding the large Black man who'd attacked him.

Who'd attempted to kill him.

"Have a seat." Raelyn gestured to an empty desk. "I'll get Gabe started on the search parameters."

"Okay." He lowered himself into a chair, prepared to wait. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that this must be related to the drug dealing he'd done in the past. Maybe the large Black man was related to Donte Wicks. Ten years was a long time to hold a grudge, but that was the only angle he could come up with.

"Well, if it isn't the preacher." The dry tone had him glancing up in surprise. He recognized Raelyn's fellow cop Grayson. There was a hint of anger in the man's eyes. "Have you finally decided to cooperate with the investigation?"

"I've been cooperating all along," he said in protest. "I told Raelyn everything I know."

Grayson's dark eyes were skeptical. "Sure you have."

He couldn't sway this man's opinion of him, so he changed the subject. "When will you know how the fire started at Raelyn's house?"

Grayson's brown gaze turned serious. "Fire Investigator Mitch Callahan is heading there now. It may be too hot to learn much, but he'll start poking around for answers."

"I pray he can find something useful."

"Oh hey, Grayson." Raelyn strode toward them, a laptop computer in hand. "What are you doing here so early?"

"Checking in on you and the case." Grayson gestured to the computer. "What's that for?"

"Isaiah is going to search mug shots for the man who assaulted him." She set the computer on the desk, opened the lid, and logged on. "Here you go." She turned the device toward him. "I need to chat with Rhy. Let someone know if you find him."

"I will." He turned his attention to the laptop. There was no reason to be jealous of Grayson. Raelyn said they were teammates, nothing more. Yet he couldn't help noticing that Grayson fit into her life far better than he ever could.

It didn't matter. He used the track pad to begin scrolling through the mug shots. He took his time, examining each face closely before moving on to the next. He didn't want to make a mistake.

Not with something this important.

Besides, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he identified the wrong man.

He'd scrolled through a dozen images when Raelyn returned. To his surprise, she set a disposable phone on the desk beside him. "I asked Grayson to pick this up for you. How is it going? I'd offer you coffee, but the stuff they brew here is like sludge."

"That's okay. I've had enough." He pocketed the phone and turned back to the screen. "It's going well, but I haven't found him yet."

"Rhy had given us permission to use the undercover Jeep." She shrugged. "That should help us fly under the radar."

"That's good." He glanced back at her. "And your insurance company?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Calling them next. Let me know if you find him."

"I will." He watched as she moved to another empty desk to make the call, then went back to work. He'd gone through another five mug shots and was beginning to fear his guy wasn't in the system at all, when he found him.

He sat back in the chair, his gaze focused on the man's unsmiling face. He knew with absolute certainty this was the man who'd attacked him.

Hugo Morrison. Not Donte Wicks, but there was still the faint resemblance to Donte's features. Maybe a half brother or cousin. He glanced over to where Raelyn was still on the phone. She had her forehead propped in one hand as she spoke, making him think the news wasn't good.

Well, knowing the identity of the man who'd done this would make her feel a little better. He turned back to the computer, not surprised to see that Hugo had done time for carjacking and armed robbery.

What had caused Hugo to escalate to attempted murder? Had the Chief put him up to it? Was this related to the drug deal that had gone down outside his church or from his actions ten years ago?

They wouldn't get answers until they had Hugo in custody. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

Raelyn stood and came over to join him. Her expression was strained, but she simply gestured to the computer. "You found something?"

"Yes. This is the guy. Hugo Morrison." He turned the screen so she could see it better. "I'm positive he's the one behind this."

Her expression brightened. "Good job, Isaiah. We'll issue a BOLO for him ASAP. And we'll send a unit to his last-known address too."

"Happy to help." He wondered if their time together would end once they had Hugo in custody.

"Sit tight." She grabbed the computer and headed toward one of the nearby offices. "Rhy? We have him!"

Ridiculous to be disappointed at the news the danger was likely over. It was better this way—he needed to get back to his church duties, and Raelyn needed to focus on her own situation. He hoped her insurance would put her up somewhere while the ranch house was being repaired.

And how long would that take? Weeks? Months? A year? He grimaced, suspecting the worst-case scenario.

"Pastor Washington?" A tall blond man strode toward him. His name tag identified his last name as Finnegan. He remembered meeting Rhy Finnegan the day of the shooting. "I understand you've identified our perp."

"Yes." He rose to his feet. "Please, call me Isaiah. I hope the officers on the street will find him very soon."

"We will." Rhy smiled grimly. "We appreciate your help on this."

"Of course." He glanced over to where Raelyn was once again talking on the phone. "I have a question, though. Have you heard if my church is still okay?"

"Yes, my brother-in-law Reed Carmichael sat outside the place last night," Rhy said. "I know it's not technically in his district, but he volunteered. I admire what you're trying to do there."

"Trying is the key word," he said lightly. "It's often an uphill battle."

"I can imagine." Rhy's expression was somber. "I understand you were also the one who anonymously called the police about the drug deal going down outside the church."

"Yes." He still felt guilty over that. "I gave Raelyn—er, Officer Lewis the street names of the kids who came through the church. I don't know their legal names."

"I understand. We've put those names and the nickname ‘Chief' through the system but haven't gotten any hits." Rhy frowned. "You're sure there isn't anything else you can tell us?"

"Ten years ago, I worked for Donte Wicks, who supposedly took orders from the Chief. I checked just a few weeks ago, and Donte was still in jail. The kid who shot me so he could steal the drugs, was Petey Dobbs. I gave his name to the officers after I recovered from surgery, and they told me they found him dead of a drug overdose." Justice at its best, he'd thought at the time. "I don't remember giving them Donte Wick's name, but I was in and out during much of those early days. There were likely other drug runners, but Hugo wasn't involved back then as far as I know."

"Maybe we can arrange to visit Donte Wicks in jail," Rhy said thoughtfully. "I doubt he'll cooperate with us, but it's worth a try."

"Don't get your hopes up," he warned. "Doing jail time is a badge of honor to some of these guys. If Donte hasn't given up the Chief by now, I doubt he'll suddenly change his mind."

"Maybe not, but it's a stone that needs to be overturned just in case." Rhy clapped him on the back. "Thanks again. Take care of yourself. My family and I will keep you and your parish in our prayers."

"Thanks, you too." He was a little surprised by the easy acceptance from the captain of the tactical team.

"Isaiah?" Raelyn rushed over, and he wondered when she'd changed into her uniform. His no-nonsense cop was back. He preferred her softer side. "We have a lead on Pinky."

His gut clenched. Of all the kids who had attended his church services and the meal afterward, he'd sincerely hoped Pinky would find his way out of the life of crime. He cared about that boy, maybe because he saw himself in the kid's features. Especially in the young boy's tortured eyes. If God had chosen to save Isaiah, surely He could do the same for Pinky.

"Did you hear me?" She looked exasperated. "Let's go. I want you to come with me."

That made him frown. "Why? I'm not a cop."

"Pinky held you at gunpoint, remember?" She searched his gaze for a long moment. "We need that gun. Even if Pinky didn't fire it, we need to know if that weapon was used to kill a cop and seriously injure two others."

He didn't want to go but didn't see another option. Maybe he could convince Pinky to tell the truth about what happened outside the church.

Would Raelyn or other cops even bother to listen?

"Okay." He forced himself to nod in agreement. "I'll come with you."

"Good. We'll take the Jeep." She led the way through the precinct to the door leading to the rear parking lot. He followed, wrestling with his feelings. He wanted to protect Pinky.

Yet maybe Pinky needed to do his part. The way he had.

He didn't say anything as Raelyn drove them to the north side of Milwaukee. The familiar dilapidated homes bothered him more for some reason, maybe because he'd spent the last twenty-four hours away from the obvious signs of poverty and despair.

The American Lodge motel was nothing fancy, but he knew most if not all the residents here would switch places in a heartbeat.

"Where are we going?" he asked, breaking the prolonged silence.

Raelyn rattled off the address. "Do you know it?"

"No." He wondered where they'd learned that information, then decided it didn't matter.

Raelyn pulled up in front of the house, eyeing the structure warily. It was in rough shape, like most of the homes around here. Then she pushed out of the Jeep.

He did the same, walking beside her as they mounted the rickety steps to the front door.

She knocked, and of course, no one answered. She pounded again, harder. After a long moment, an older Black woman swung the door open. "What?" Her voice was not friendly.

"I need to speak with Pinky," Raelyn said.

The woman crossed her arms over her chest. "Pinky don't live here."

"Please," he urged, speaking up. "We simply want to talk to him, that's all."

The woman snorted, then stepped back. "You want to check for yourself, Preacher? Go ahead."

Raelyn frowned, then entered the home. He stayed close but already knew they wouldn't find Pinky. This woman wouldn't have let them in if the kid had been there.

The search didn't take long. Raelyn pasted a smile on her face. "Thanks for your cooperation."

The woman scowled without saying a word. She did slam the door shut behind them, though, making her displeasure known.

"That was a bust," Raelyn said.

"Maybe Pinky was there but took off." He shrugged. "These kids stay on the move to avoid getting caught."

"Yeah, I guess." She looked determined now. "We'll have another officer stake the place out to see if Pinky returns tonight."

"I'd like to head to the church for a few minutes. I keep a spare set of clothes there."

"Fine." She slid in behind the wheel, giving the woman's house one last look before driving away.

Thankfully, New Hope Church looked exactly the way he'd left it. No additional graffiti and no sign of a forced entry. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, scanning the room. Then he narrowed his gaze when he saw something dark sitting in the middle of the white tablecloth on the altar.

He rushed forward, hardly able to believe his eyes. Raelyn came up next to him. "Is that the Glock?"

"I don't know." Despite saying the words, he was sure it was.

And he was convinced Pinky had left it there.