“Kevin,” Dad says, addressing the judge by his first name. “How are you?”
“I’m good, Paul,” he says over the speakerphone. “Was just thinking about you, actually. The wife wants to have you guys over for dinner soon.”
“Sounds good. I’ll let Larissa know.”
“So, to what do I owe this pleasure? Business, I’m assuming.”
“I think we’ve found him, Kevin,” Dad says, not having to explain any further. The two of them go way back. They’ve been friends since high school. Kevin and his wife are our godparents. He knows how much it’s killed my dad to not be able to lock up Miguel behind bars.
Dad gives Kevin the details of our findings and how we think Miguel might be hiding away in the house we’ve come across and how he’s possibly linked to Brenton and Maxwell. When he’s done, he says, “What do you think?”
“I think if you’re right, we’re going to nail this bastard. I’ll sign for both warrants. Keep me updated.”
“You got it.”
Dad hangs up and then radios a couple officers to head to the cell phone shop. He’s hoping if Maxwell goes to the shop, we can nab him at the same time. That way we don’t run the risk of him being tipped off.
Twenty minutes later, just as the warrants are coming through, Scott calls. “You are never going to believe who just pulled up and went inside the same house.”
I bet I only need one guess, though. But that’s only because I have all the motherfucking pieces now; whereas, Scott hasn’t been brought up to speed.
“Brenton fucking Davis,” I seethe, as I jump from my seat, my dad following right behind me.
“Ding ding ding.”
“Stay there. We’re on our way.” I click end on our call and jump into my dad’s truck, since it’s an official police vehicle. If everything goes right, we’ll be arresting all three of these motherfuckers.
“This is Chief Reynolds,” Dad says into his radio, “requesting backup.” He spits off the address then gets the men up to speed. “We have reason to believe a man by the name of Miguel Sanchez is hiding out in the residence. He is a known drug dealer and there’s a warrant out for his arrest for shooting and killing a police officer. He is to be considered highly armed and dangerous.”
Just as Dad turns onto the street, Scott calls me again. “We’re almost there,” I tell him.
“A brown-haired female just went into the house,” he says, and my heart sinks into my chest. Fuck! “I didn’t see her in the car,” he adds. I want to rip him a new one, but I can hear it in his voice he already knows he’s fucked up. “She didn’t go in with him initially. She just knocked and he let her in less than a minute ago.”
I pull up my GPS tracker for Blakely and sure enough, she’s right where we’re pulling up. “She said she was going to some school for an interview,” I tell my dad. “When I told her I couldn’t take her, she must’ve called him.” I slam my fist into the dashboard. “Fuck. I told her to call Mom. Not him.”
“Calm down, son.”
“I need to get her out of there.”
“No, we need to wait out here,” he says.
I whip my head around to glare at him. “Like fucking hell.”
“It’s a conflict of interest if either of us goes in there, and we need everything to be done by the books.”
Damn it! I know he’s right. And then it hits me…
“Is she being arrested?”
“No. As long as she doesn’t have any drugs on her. But if we find who and what we’re hoping to find in there, she’ll have to be brought in for questioning.” He picks up his radio. “The female inside is Blakely Jacobs—Keegan’s girlfriend and the mother of his son. We’re going to remain outside. You’re going to surround the house and knock. If you think she’s in danger, you go in. Her protection comes first. Treat her with respect, boys. She needs to be brought in for questioning, but as long as she doesn’t have any drugs or weapons on her, she is not to be arrested.”
The guys come over the radio to let him know they understand. We pull up and park along the side of the road and watch as the team surrounds the house.
And then the door opens.
Blakely and Brenton walk outside. Brenton’s shocked as shit and Blakely’s scared and confused. I want to run to her and hug her. Tell her it’s okay. But I can’t. I watch as Duncan, one of the officers, tells her to cooperate and then searches her.
My eyes flit over to Brenton, who is being handcuffed while another officer handles the drugs they’ve found on him. And then over to the door where several of our other officers, who went into the house, are now walking out with none other than Miguel fucking Sanchez. Got you, asshole…