Keller County Cops Book Seven: Code of Vengeance

Keller County Cops

Book Seven

Code of Vengeance

By

Melanie Atkins

Desert Breeze Publishing, Inc.

27305 W. Live Oak Rd #424

Castaic, CA 91384

http://www.DesertBreezePublishing.com

Copyright © 2013 by Melanie Atkins

ISBN 10: 1-61252-367-6

ISBN 13: 978-1-61252-367-5

Published in the United States of America

Publish Date: October 11, 2013

Editor-In-Chief: Gail R. Delaney

Content Editor: Sarah Giese

Marketing Director: Jenifer Ranieri

Cover Artist: Jenifer Ranieri

Cover Art Copyright by Desert Breeze Publishing, Inc. © 2013

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Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used in a fictitious situation. Any resemblances to actual events, locations, organizations, incidents or persons – living or dead – are coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

I dedicate this book to Gail Delaney and Jenifer Ranieri at Desert Breeze Publishing, two people determined to put out a quality product. Kudos to all those who have edited my books as well, and to DBP's excellent cover artists. I haven't had a bad cover yet! Thanks, y'all.

Oh, my God, Keegan. He's back! I need you.

Jenny's frantic phone call echoed inside Keegan Riley's head as she dashed through the deepening purple twilight to the front door of her sister's upscale brick home.

The door stood ajar.

"Jenny?" Her heart in her throat, Keegan pushed on the heavy wooden door. It opened with a soft creak. "Jenny, I'm here. Where are you?"

Silence.

"Jenny?" Heated cinnamon-scented air washed over Keegan as she nudged the door open all the way and stepped inside. The place was much too warm for her to keep on her coat, but she ignored the uncomfortable heat. She zeroed in on a dark, glistening smear marring the pristine white trim on the other side of the foyer, and fear sliced through her like a knife.

She marched over to the sticky-looking, brownish red smear and touched it with quaking fingers. Her fingertips came away wet.

"Oh, no," Keegan whispered. Moisture filled her eyes, and she swallowed back the urge to bolt. Backing away from the stain on shaky legs, she brushed the tears from her cheeks and raised her voice. "J-Jenny, where are you? Please answer me!"

Still nothing. Not even the whisper of the icy January wind kissing the eaves.

Keegan drew in a fortifying breath and tiptoed into the living room. A lamp, a few books, and one of Jenny's white sneakers littered the beige carpet. More glistening splotches dotted the far wall. An odd metallic, almost coppery scent filled the air.

Oh, dear God. Jenny, did he finally--

 Acid rushed up her throat as she pictured Dirk standing over her sister's prone body. She choked it down and skirted the fallen lamp. Everything else in the room looked okay.

Don't jump to conclusions, damn it. Just keep moving and find Jenny. She has to be here somewhere, right?

Not wanting to focus on what she might find in the next room, Keegan drew in another deep, shaky breath, glanced around the living room one more time, and stumbled into the kitchen. She halted with a gasp.

Her sister lay on her back on the ceramic tile floor in a pool of blood, one arm twisted at a crazy angle, the other next to her head. Her fingertips brushed the base of the island.

"Jenny!" Keegan sobbed. She fell to her knees beside her sister and desperately tried to find a pulse. Her hands shook so hard she had trouble pressing her fingers to Jenny's neck, but once she did she knew she was too late. She let loose a loud, keening wail.

Minutes, or maybe an hour later -- Keegan wasn't sure -- she finally stopped crying long enough to press the Emergency Call button on her phone.

"911. What is your emergency?"

"M-my sister," Keegan choked out. "She... she's dead. At least, I think she is. I-I can't find a pulse. And she's bleeding... so much blood. She can't possibly--"

"Ma'am, slow down, please, and give me your location. I'll get units en route."

"Six-oh-one Pinehaven Circle. In... in Hunter's Bayou." She swallowed. "I--"

"I'm sending help, ma'am. I need you to calm down and--"

"Calm down?" Keegan screeched into the phone. "I can't calm down. Don't you understand? H-he killed her. Finally. He said he would, and he did!"

"Ma'am, please. Who--"

Keegan didn't hear the rest of the operator's question.

"The bastard killed her," she shrieked out on a sob. "Don't you get it? Jenny got a restraining order to keep him away, but it didn't do any good. He came back and
murdered
her."

A high-pitched wail broke the unnatural stillness inside the house.

"Oh, my God. The
baby."
Reeling as if the knife that had killed Jenny had struck
her
heart, Keegan tossed the phone onto the counter without hanging up and bolted from the room.

Her sweet little ten-month-old niece, Haley Marie, stood in her crib holding on to the bars, her little face screwed up as she wailed out her discomfort.

"Hey, baby," Keegan said, scooping up the child and holding her close. "Aunt Keegan's here now. You're going to be okay. I promise. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Yes, Haley might be okay, but she'd never know her mother. Dirk had taken that away from her. Tears filled Keegan's eyes, and she drew in the tiny girl's comforting scent.

One day, Dirk Woodward, you're going to pay. I'm going to see to it.

For Haley.

Six months later

Keegan tugged her new black turtleneck over her head, pausing only when the soft cotton caught on one of her new garnet earrings. She freed it, settled the shirt over her body, and tugged her hair out of the collar. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the long dark strands back in a tight ponytail. Her pulse raced as she dropped to her haunches to tie her heavy black combat boots. Her charcoal-colored yoga pants fit her like a second skin. Once she donned her matching knit cap and slipped inside that dark alley, she'd disappear.

Vengeance wrapped in shadows.

She strapped a serrated hunting knife to her waist, attached a smaller one to her ankle, and settled the paddle holster containing her brand new Sig Sauer P220 in the small of her back. As an extra precaution, she pocketed a container of pepper spray and picked up the black leather sap she'd ordered off the Internet. The weapon was illegal in Mississippi, but then... nothing about her plan was legal. So what did it matter?

I'm sick and tired of following the damned rules. Rules are why Jenny died. Hell, even after Dirk murdered her, the cops bought his flimsy alibi. Attending an AA meeting, my ass.

Well, that was then, and this is now. Dirk won't win this round. I'm going to see to it. Haley lost her mommy that night, and even though she has her grandma and grandpa now to keep her safe, she'll always have a gaping hole in her life. I'm going to make sure Dirk never has a say in anything, even though he's her father. He doesn't know the meaning of the word.

Keegan grabbed her bike helmet and melted outside into the night. The summer heat enveloped her, and she wished like hell she could shuck the turtleneck, but she didn't dare. Blending into the shadows was more important than not breaking a sweat.

She wiped her brow and hurried over to the detached garage. One flick of her wrist, and the hidden panel at the back of the building swung open to reveal the used Kawasaki motocross bike she'd bought from a kid over in New Orleans for a song. The teen had even agreed to paint it black for her after she'd offered to pay him extra, because he was desperate for cash to buy a car. A week later, she'd picked up the bike. Took her another three weeks of spills and scrapes before she conquered it, but conquer it she did... and now she rode like a pro.

A wide grin split her face as she donned her helmet, rolled the bike from its hiding place, and closed the hidden door. Every time she climbed onto the bike, a thrill shot through her. She'd always been adventurous, but readying herself to take care of Dirk had taken the term
adventure
to a whole new level. She'd doubled her number of martial arts classes, bought the Sig and learned to shoot, and studied with a local cop who specialized in self-protection for women.

Then, after a two-day computer search, she'd finally located the cruel rat bastard who'd murdered her sister. The skunk had left Hunter's Bayou for a couple of months and returned after he decided the coast was clear. Too bad he hadn't remembered Jenny had a sister. Or if he did, he didn't view her as a threat. The first time he'd put Jenny in the hospital and Keegan had vowed revenge, she hadn't been much of a menace to him. Now, however, she was.

Now, she was ready.

"Time's up, Dirk," Keegan muttered, determined to get justice for her sister since the law had failed them. She straddled the bike and revved the engine. "Tonight, you belong to me."

She roared off through the darkness, sticking to side streets as she made her way into town, hoping no one would notice the lone motorcycle gliding through the dark night. She didn't see a single car until she crossed Main Street, probably because of the later hour. Luckily for her, the vehicle was headed in the other direction. Maybe the driver hadn't seen her.

Her heart thumped as she threaded her way to Houghton Street, cut the engine, and rolled silently into the narrow alley behind the Kitty Kat Klub, the largest of Hunter's Bayou's three strip clubs -- and Dirk Woodward's favorite hangout. Once Keegan had learned he'd gotten blitzed there every Saturday night since he'd returned to town, she'd planned for his demise. A dark alley, Keegan primed to fight, and the drunk son of a bitch who'd murdered her sister.

"And a good time was had by all," she murmured to herself.

Yet would her training be enough? Once she found a good hiding place, would she be able to dredge up the courage to sneak up on Dirk and draw her blade across his throat?

The humid summer breeze wafted over her as she hid the bike in the shadows next to an aromatic trash bin that made her wrinkle her nose. She pulled off her helmet. Sweat had beaded on her brow, and she wiped it away. Her heart pounded out a swift rhythm inside her chest. She figured it might calm down once she moved away from the awful odor coming from the open waste bin, because then maybe she could breathe normally.

She stowed the helmet in the compartment behind the seat before scurrying away from the sickening stench, careful to stick to the shadows and watch where she stepped. All she needed was to turn her ankle and have to abort the mission.

"Not in this lifetime," she whispered, gritting her teeth as she sidestepped a break in the pavement. Gravel, broken glass, and an odd assortment of other items, the detritus of urban life, littered the alley. Any of it could prove dangerous to someone sneaking around.

Keegan slowed her pace. Seconds later, she came upon the back door to the Kitty Kat Klub. Settling into the shadows opposite it, she waited. The darkness in the alley was so complete that when she looked up, the stars overhead twinkled against the thick black canvas of the mid-summer night sky. Tonight, that darkness was her friend.

She didn't have long to wait before the door opened and one of the dancers stepped outside for a smoke. Keegan remained where she was, invisible and still, just part of the alley, until the stripper finished her cigarette and headed back inside. Keegan caught the door before it closed and slipped inside a few steps behind the woman. She moved silently, jamming the sap between the door and the frame so she could get back out without triggering the alarm, and then halting until the stripper disappeared into one of the dressing rooms.

Once the woman was gone, Keegan stole down the hallway and slinked into the bar. The place was almost as dark as the alley, except for the area near the stage and three glaring semi-circles surrounding several other raised platforms. All were topped by poles clutched by gyrating dancers wearing G-strings and not much else. Whistling, leering men crowded close to the platforms, jostling each other in their search for a good time. The damned club was packed. It reeked of beer, sweat, and sex, and Keegan made sure she didn't touch anything. No telling how many nasty germs lurked in this place. The idea turned her stomach.