Broken (The Raiford Chronicles #3 Book 1) Read online

  "Kyle, you forced me into this," Christopher said, shaking his head and looking at the water. "Did you five skin-heads beat, rape, and leave Neely Rivers for dead?" He stood beside Kim.

  "Who is Neely Rivers?" asked Kyle.

  "She owned a tattoo parlor in New Orleans."

  Kyle took a step back. "Everybody, leave!" he commanded. "Go!"

  After the other four boys walked away, Kyle asked, "What do you know about that?"

  "The victim lived and identified your tattoo." That's why I had the creepy feeling when Kim told me you got a tat like your dad's. He pointed to the other boy's chest. "The other twelve women died."

  "Kim, I wish you'd leave," Kyle mumbled.

  "Not a snowball's chance in Hell." She put one hand on her hip.

  Kyle gave his twin a desperate look.

  She shook her head firmly and puckered her lips. "This is worse than I dreamed. God! Kyle, talk to me."

  He huffed. "I don't know anything about any other twelve women. That was my first job." He pointed toward where his friends had walked. "They weren't even there. I didn't kill the woman although I was supposed to. A cop named Lloyd gave us money to do it. He also gave us money tonight to find you and beat you to a pulp." He shook his head. "I can't do that to the guy that was kissing my sister."

  Kim snorted. "Warped, Kyle. Warped," she muttered.

  "Kyle, you have no idea what you're really mixed up in, do you?" Christopher said.

  "Maybe you should tell me because"—He widened his eyes that looked like the early morning sky and sought matching ones—"I'm not quite the slug my sister thinks I am."

  Brow furrowed, Christopher said, "Kyle, this Lloyd guy has killed five law enforcement officers, my aunt included. Obviously, my dad was right. He was behind the art thefts and twelve dead women. He's Latrice Descartes's son."

  "L…Latrice? That crazy woman my dad talked about?" He put a hand to his lips and mumbled through his fingers. "The one that tried to summon a demon?"

  Christopher nodded and Courtney put clenched fists to her mouth, eyes wide with fear.

  The look on Kyle's face was thinly veiled terror. He started rubbing his tattoo as if trying to get it off. "Oh, God! What have I done?" He sank to the sand and sobbed, "What…Have…I…Done?"

  The temperature moderated to the balmy coastal spring night.

  Kim and Christopher went to Kyle. "Kyle," Christopher said, "come with me to my grandparents' house. My dad can fix this."

  "I'll go to jail. That'll kill my mom."

  "Trust me, Kyle. My dad'll help. He's your godfather, after all. This man wants to kill him, too. Are you sure he was a cop?"

  "Yeah, a state trooper."

  "Please, go with Christopher, Kyle," begged Kim. "I'll go with you."

  Christopher reiterated, "Please, Kyle. You can save lives now. You have to help."

  Kyle nodded. The three teenagers headed back to the Reynolds's beach home.

  Half way into the movie, Courtney whispered to Larkin, "Momma, we need to go home."

  "Why?"

  Running her words together as if saying it fast would make it easier, she said, "Christopher was sneaking out to meet Kim at a beach party." Courtney cringed, waiting for the wrath of her mother's redheaded temper.

  "What?" Larkin shrieked in the middle of the theater. "You little devils! I should've listened to my intuition." She grabbed Courtney's wrist. "Let's go."

  Amid numerous shushing sounds from other moviegoers, Larkin told the police officers sitting on either end of the group of women what was happening. They radioed the house and prepared to leave. However, the police cruiser would not start.

  Larkin commanded, "Get another car and get there as soon as you can. We're going home."

  The ladies loaded and headed home over loud protests.

  "Hold up!" one of the officers yelled, jumping in front of the car. Larkin swerved around him and he radioed for backup.

  A few miles on the highway brought flashing blue lights behind Larkin. Sheena looked over her shoulder. "Don't stop," she said.

  "It's a cop. He can help us," argued Larkin. "It's probably backup for the one I almost ran over."

  "It's a state trooper," said Sheena. She looked more closely. "It's a Louisiana state trooper! What's he doing here?"

  "Maybe Ray added his own security without telling us."

  "I don't think so." Sheena shook her head. "Don't stop! As a matter of fact, punch it!" Her breath hung in the suddenly frosty air.

  "Why?" Larkin noted the cold.

  "I don't know. Just trust me. Trust my intuition."

  Before Sheena finished her statement, Larkin pressed the accelerator in the car Ray had powered to the maximum. She left the trooper in the dust.

  When Larkin swung into her in-laws' driveway, there were already half a dozen patrol cars there. Simultaneously, Larkin's phone rang.

  "Ray!" she shouted into the phone. "Christopher sneaked out!"

  "I know, Angel. I'm on my way. He's safe. He's in the house, and he might have a solid lead for us."

  19

  Cowardice

  Larkin slammed the front door and threw her purse onto the entry hall table before she screamed, "Christopher Lance Reynolds!"

  Although Christopher was nearly a foot taller than his mother, he shrank in the wake of her fury. He looked at her with her big doe-like eyes and said, "Momma, take it easy."

  "Don't you 'Momma' me! How could you put yourself at risk like this?" Larkin stopped her tirade as she noticed the other two children present. "What is going on?" she demanded.

  Christopher said calmly, "I think I'll wait for Daddy to get here."

  "How did Ray know you had sneaked out? Did the officers call him?"

  "No ma'am." Christopher shook his head. "I did."

  Larkin looked at the other two teenagers. "Kim?"

  "Hello, Dr. Reynolds."

  "Kyle?"

  The person who seemed to be in the most distress in the entire room looked at Larkin. She thought, Lord! The boy looks just like Robert. He did not speak, but sat on the fireplace hearth and dropped his eyes back to the floor.

  Larkin demanded, "How are the two of you mixed up in this?"

  "We are not," said Kimberly, "except that Christopher sneaked out to meet me. Don't be too mad at him. It's hard being under such scrutiny. I still remember how hard it was having so much security around before Dad died. Kyle, well, I guess he would rather talk to Chief Reynolds."

  Larkin got closer to Kyle. She took in the boy's appearance and could not help but notice his tattoo. "No," she breathed as she knelt beside him and lifted his chin. "Please, tell me it wasn't you."

  Kyle tried to turn away from Larkin, but she held his chin firmly. "Look at me," she said softly.

  Kyle choked, "I can't. It was me. I did it."

  The two-and-a-half-hour wait for Ray seemed more like a year. Nobody spoke unless it was in muffled tones, and no one dared address Kyle directly. He sat still as a statue, barely blinking. Dorothy Reynolds made coffee for the lot after Larkin put Cherie to bed. Kyle mechanically accepted the cup, but never sipped it.

  Ray entered his parents' house commandingly. "Out!" he ordered. "Everybody, out! Kyle, where's your mother?"

  Kyle panicked. "Please, don't call my mother. Arrest me. Shoot me. Anything. Just don't make me face my mother."

  "Sorry, Kyle. You're a minor. You won't say a word without your mother's presence. Call her." Ray handed Kyle his phone.

  Kyle dialed his mother. Deanna Blackwell answered sleepily. "Ray? What's happened now? How can I help you?"

  Shakily, Kyle said, "Mom, it's Kyle. I need you to come to Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds's house in Biloxi."

  "Kyle, are you with Ray's family?"

  "Sort of. Here, talk to Chief Reynolds." Kyle handed the phone to Ray.

  "Deanna, you need to come," Ray said. "Kyle's in a lot of trouble. I won't talk to him without you."

  "What has he done now?"

  "D
eanna, this is better said in person."

  "I'll be there in half an hour."

  Deanna Blackwell looked tired as she came into the room where her son and her late husband's old friend sat. Saul Blackwell accompanied his wife and carried Tate asleep on his shoulder.

  "Okay," Deanna said in great irritation. "Let's get to it."

  Ray stood. "Deanna, sit down."

  "It's that bad, is it?"

  "Please," insisted Ray. He stepped to the foot of the stairs and called, "Larkin, I need you."

  Larkin came down the stairs. "What do you need?"

  "Put Tate somewhere to sleep. This is gonna take a little while." He looked back at Deanna. "You should know Kim is upstairs with Courtney."

  Deanna looked confused. "She was spending the night at a slumber party."

  Ray grunted, "She was meeting Christopher and now she is asleep in the room with Courtney, but Kim is not the issue right now."

  Larkin took Tate from Saul. He sat down beside his wife whose knuckles were turning white from the grip she had on the arm of the sofa.

  Ray turned to Kyle. "Kyle, New Orleans is out of my jurisdiction. The only thing I can do is take you back there. However, by now, you realize you're mixed up in something far worse than one attack on one woman. Kyle, I can't help you if you aren't totally honest with me."

  "Why would you want to help me? I'm a horrible person. I'm as evil as this wicked two-headed serpent." Kyle hit himself in the chest.

  "No, you're not. You're a lost boy who happens to be the son of an old friend of mine. You're my godson."

  Kyle laughed a hollow laugh. "Mr. Reynolds, you have no idea what my father actually thought of you."

  "Yes, I do, Kyle. I know. We can talk about that later. We need to deal with your legal problem first. Tell me about Lloyd."

  "Okay." The boy heaved a heavy sigh. "I guess I've been driving Mom crazy for a couple of years now. I started getting in trouble at school, fights and stuff."

  Ray turned to Deanna. "Why didn't you call me?"

  She sighed. "I wanted my family to work it out. Saul wanted to be a father to the twins."

  "I understand, and you were completely correct. Kyle, why didn't you call me?"

  The boy shrugged.

  Ray huffed. "Tell me your story."

  "Then, I started hanging out with older guys. To get into their little gang, I had to get this ugly haircut and a ghastly tattoo. Although most of them had the ugliest bald eagle I've ever seen, I couldn't think of one worse than Dad's, so I got a duplicate. Then, they took me to New Orleans where we met up with this older man. He was as skin-headed as all of us. He wore a state trooper's uniform and said his name was Lloyd. He paid us to rough up and…" Kyle stopped.

  "Go on, Kyle. Just say it and get it over with," encouraged Ray.

  Kyle breathed deeply. "Rape the lady that owned Timeless Tattoos. He took me to the side and told me if I really wanted to be in, I had to kill her. I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill her. I guess I'm not a killer." He sighed. "And she was so beautiful. How could anybody kill something so lovely? All I could do was stare at her. And I heard this voice telling me to stop."

  "Kyle," asked Deanna in tears, "are you saying you beat and raped that woman?"

  Kyle groaned, "Yes."

  "Oh, my God! Ray, what do we do?" Deanna asked in distress.

  Ray looked at Kyle. "Kyle, what do we do?"

  "Put me in jail. But that's not all about Lloyd. He was here tonight, and he found me with some other guys that are a part of this group. He paid us to find Christopher and beat him up. He didn't want him dead, just hurt."

  "Why didn't you do it?" asked Ray.

  "When we found him, he was kissing my sister. I would never hurt somebody that Kim likes. I love my sister."

  "Of course, you do," Ray said. "You're twins. That's a very special bond."

  "Christopher said you think this Lloyd guy is the one who killed Detective Gautier and the other cops and that he might be Latrice Descartes's son. I swear I didn't know anything like that, Mr. Reynolds."

  "I believe that, Kyle. I think he deliberately sought you out, too. The only way he could get even with Robert was to corrupt you."

  Kyle snorted.

  Ray asked, "Is there something else, Kyle?"

  "I can't tell you this in front of my mother. I just can't. Dad hurt her enough when he was alive."

  "Kyle," Deanna said, "I knew everything about your father."

  "I doubt it," Kyle said.

  "Me too," agreed Ray.

  "Can it be any worse than his being a philandering son-of-a-bitch?" asked Deanna.

  "Yes," Kyle and Ray said together.

  "Then, you had better tell me now."

  Kyle hesitantly said, "New Orleans wasn't the first time I interacted with Lloyd. He was younger, and he had hair; but it was the same state trooper. He used to guard Dad.

  "I caught Dad having sex once, Mom. It was in his Baton Rouge office when I got dropped off after baseball practice. Practice got called off because a storm came up. I was a lot earlier than I was supposed to be."

  "Dear, God! You could only have been ten at the most," cried Deanna, holding both sides of her head with its now short dark hair. "Of course, some of his bodyguards would've had to have known about his sexual exploits. How could he? Which one was she, the one who was killed with him?"

  Kyle looked at Ray for some sign of encouragement and received a slight nod. As if holding his breath Kyle said, "Mom, it wasn't a she. It was Lloyd."

  "No," said Deanna. "A whoremonger, yes, but no. Ray?"

  "The boy's right. I didn't know who he was involved with, but that letter you gave me at the wake"—Ray puffed out a long breath—"it makes sense. This guy planned to ruin Robert politically. That's where it would hurt him the most, but Mia put a kink in that plan."

  Deanna asked while grinding her teeth, "Did either of them do anything to you, Kyle?"

  Kyle laughed sarcastically. "Other than threaten me and swear me to secrecy? If Dad had ever even hugged me, it might have shown he cared. He did confess to me that he had only ever loved one person in his whole life."

  "And who was that?"

  Kyle shook his head. "I can't. I just can't."

  "Well, you had damned well better!" Deanna's voice rose.

  Kyle shook his head again.

  "Me," Ray said barely above a whisper.

  Deanna looked flabbergasted. "Ray, you and Robert?"

  "No." He held up his hand in a stop motion.

  "No, Mom," said Kyle. "It was definitely unrequited love." The bitterness in his voice was not lost on the adults.

  "Oh, God, Kyle, what do we do? Saul?"

  "I'm not a criminal attorney, honey, but I can find one."

  Kyle seemed to ignore his stepfather. "Mr. Reynolds, Christopher said you would help me. Please, tell me what to do. You're my godfather. You said at Dad's wake if I ever needed you…"

  "All right," he cut the boy off. "First, you stop disrespecting Saul. He's trying to help you right now." Ray glared at Kyle.

  "Yes, sir."

  "You turn yourself in and tell the New Orleans police exactly what you told me. Can you give a description of this Lloyd to a sketch artist?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Do that. Kyle, do you swear that Neely Rivers was the only attack you were involved in?"

  "Yes, sir. Why?"

  "All the other women died, Kyle"

  "I swear to God I didn't kill anybody!" Kyle looked toward his stepfather. "I swear," he repeated. Saul nodded at the boy.

  Ray continued, "All right. Kyle, you were fifteen when this happened, right?"

  "Yes, sir, barely."

  "Technically, you were, and are, a juvenile, but the crime was very heinous. If you help catch a cop killer, I'm sure your sentence can be lightened. However, a lot will depend on what Neely wants done to you. Kyle, Neely just married my brother. You'll have to face her."

  As Raif slowly revolved around the dan
ce floor with Neely held close to him, his phone rang. Raif laughed. "My brother has the worst timing ever."

  "How do you know it's Ray?" asked Neely.

  "Nobody else would be calling."

  "We were only dancing."

  "Maybe you were only dancing, but I was planning what I wanted to do to you in about five minutes."

  "In that case, talk to your brother, and I'll meet you in our room."

  While Neely scampered off to put on something to make sure Raif followed through with his plans, Raif answered his phone, "Yes, Ray?"

  "I think you need to come home for at least a day or so."

  "What's up?"

  "We have one of Neely's attackers."

  "What? You actually caught one?"

  "Sort of. Christopher caught him. The kid, and I mean kid, can identify Lloyd. He paid them."

  "Kid? How old?"

  "When it happened, he had just turned fifteen."

  "What aren't you saying?"

  "I hope you're sitting down."

  "Ray, stop stalling."

  "God! It's Kyle LaFontaine."

  "What the hell did you say?"

  When Neely unlocked the door to her room, a hand reached over her head and pushed the door open. Neely spun around. A tall, thin, completely shaven man that Neely recognized snarled, "I'm here to deliver a message from Lloyd."

  Neely screamed as loudly as she could before the man pushed her into the room. "Neely!" Raif yelled into the phone as he heard her scream.

  "Raif!" Ray bellowed into a dead phone.

  As an accomplished track star and marathon runner, it took Raif only seconds to get to his room. Hotel security was right behind him. Raif kicked in the door and hurled the man who held Neely's wrists through the sliding glass door that led to the romantic patio outside the hotel room. Security hauled the man to his feet and dragged him away to be met by Honolulu police.

  Raif pulled Neely to him. She sobbed, "He said, he was here to deliver a message from Lloyd."

  "How would he know where we were?"

  She shrugged. "Maybe our wedding announcement in the newspaper."