break room.
And a drug smuggler bearing down on her.
She could scream, but over the din of the air compressor and construction noises no one would hear a sound.
It was time to run.
* * *
Officer Zach Jameson surveyed the throng of people congregated around the ticketing counter. Most ignored Zach and K-9 partner, Eddie, and that suited him just fine. Two months earlier he would have greeted people with a smile, or at least a polite nod while he and Eddie did their work of scanning for potential drug smugglers. These days he struggled to keep his mind on his duty while the ever-present darkness nibbled at the edges of his soul.
Jordan, his oldest brother and chief of the NYC K-9 Command Unit, was gone. Sometimes it still felt unreal to Zach. His words at his brother’s funeral came back to him, when he’d promised Jordy’s widow, Katie, that he and his brothers would bring her husband’s killer to justice.
But they hadn’t, not yet. It didn’t help that his older brothers Noah and Carter, and other K-9 officers of the unit and all their collected dogs were officially off the case because of their familial connection to the victim. Even though Noah had been appointed interim chief, he was shut firmly out of the investigation like the rest of them. A storehouse of training, intelligence, loyalty and commitment and where had it gotten them? Nowhere. The only lead so far had been killed during the attempted arrest, and Zach had not even been on scene to try and prevent it. And to add one final twist to the knife in his gut, Jordy’s police dog, Snapper, was still missing.
With Jordy gone, justice and duty were the only two things Zach had left, the former seeming more unreachable every passing day. As for duty, sometimes it felt like he was going through the motions in a haze—phoning it in, as his brothers might say. The badge meant everything to him, and he despised the way that grief was dulling his edge as a cop.
Eddie plopped his bony rump on Zach’s steel-toed boot and looked up into his face as if to say, “Let’s do our jobs, okay?”
He stroked the dog’s ears and sucked in a breath, trying to clear away the fog that had descended on him the moment he heard of his brother’s death. A cop always lived with the fact that he might lose his life in the line of duty, but not this way, when Jordan and Katie had their first baby coming, and not when Zach should have been watching Jordan’s back like Jordan had always done for his younger kin.
Jordan was the one who had prayed and prodded Zach through his police training, a process made more difficult by Zach’s dyslexia. Everything hands-on came easy, but the written exams...taking those was like chiseling away at a mountain with a butter knife.
“Don’t give up. Police force needs you, Zacho,” Jordy had said during their tutoring sessions, employing the nickname Zach despised. “You’re gonna be a great cop.”
For all his brother’s confidence, Zach hadn’t had so much as a whiff of suspicion that his brother was in danger. Some cop, clueless and inept. His brain knew he should talk to somebody, somebody like Violet Griffin, his friend from childhood who’d reached out so many times. His brain knew, but his heart would not let him pass through the dark curtain. And there was no way he was talking to some department-appointed shrink who wasn’t even a cop. They’d have to slap on cuffs and knock him unconscious before they dragged him into that office.
“Just get to work,” he muttered to himself as his phone vibrated. Probably another text from his mom. Ivy Jameson paid no attention to the fact that he was not supposed to take personal messages while on duty. Truth be told, he’d been avoiding her calls because he could not stand to hear her cry or detect the worry in her voice when she asked him how he was doing. He’d call her later.
The phone trilled again, indicating it was a call this time. He checked the number.
Violet.
He considered ignoring it, but Violet didn’t ever call unless she needed help and she rarely needed anyone. Strong enough to run a ticket counter at LaGuardia and have enough energy left over to help out at Griffin’s, her family’s diner. She could handle belligerent customers in both arenas and bake the best apple pie he’d ever had the privilege to chow down.
It almost made him smile as he accepted the call.
“Someone’s after me, Zach.”
Panic rippled through their connection. Panic, from a woman who was tough as they came. “Who? Where are you?”
Her breath was shallow as if she was running.
“I’m trying to get to the break room. I can lock myself in, but I don’t... I can’t...” There was a clatter.
“Violet?” he shouted.
But there was no answer.
He sprinted toward the Emerge Airline break room, Eddie racing right behind him.
Violet’s phone spiraled out of her hand, clattering to the floor as Joe dropped his bag and grabbed for her arm. She wrenched herself free and lunged toward the break room door. Wild energy fueled her. When he caught up with her again, she fired a kick at his patella and heard his satisfying grunt of pain. He doubled over, grabbing at his knee, and she used the moment to thrust her ID card in its lanyard at the code reader. Her hands shook so badly it didn’t work.
Why did you run here, you fool? The remodeling job left the normally bustling hallway quiet and deserted, no one to hear her scream, no one to help.
She shot a look over her shoulder. Brown loomed behind her, cheeks flushed with exertion, nostrils flared, a grimace filled with violence with no human feeling behind it. There was no question in her mind that he would kill her if she gave him the slightest chance. Were there any construction workers or painters around? A single fellow employee?
Frantically, she tried her ID again, willing her fingers to cooperate. He was only a few yards away now, closing fast. After two agonizing seconds the door clicked open. She shoved it and scrambled inside, attempting to slam it behind her.
To her horror, something prevented it closing—Brown’s booted foot. With everything in her she tried to hold the door closed, her arms rigid and trembling with the effort. Inch by inch he forced it open, one hand reaching through the gap, capturing her around the wrist, digging in.
Yanking free from his grip she scratched at his face, aiming for the eyes. Surprised, he jerked back. She threw all her body weight at the door. It shuddered but did not close. He rammed his boot at it and then he was in, pushing her until she fell backward onto the floor. Crab-walking in terror she looked for something, anything she could use to defend herself. She found nothing.
Towering over her, he smiled, one front tooth sporting a tiny chip. “You stuck your nose in where you shouldn’t have.”
“I called the cops,” she said, throat tight. “They’re on the way.”
“You’ll be dead before they get here.” Again, the smile. “A quick death is better. We could make it last much longer if we wanted to.”
She opened her mouth to scream, but
