Bad Boy Soldier (Bad Boy 3)

"You were more than just a customer," he replied. "With your training and experience, you have tactical intel you could share with us on this crew. It might help us figure out who they work for. We think they're responsible for a string of armed robberies in Boston over the past month."

I sighed, resigned to the fact I'd have to spend time at the precinct.

"No good deed goes unpunished," I said sarcastically.

"Tell me about it," the detective replied, his tone matching mine. "I'll be the one working late at night to wrap up the paperwork on this."

"That's why they pay you the big bucks," I quipped.

He laughed and that was the first crack in his façade.

Then he spoke into a cell turning away so I couldn't hear what he said. He listened to the response and then turned back.

"Let's go."

"Okay," I said. "I need to make a call first." I pointed to my cell and he nodded.

"Make it fast."

I stood off to the side of the room and called the gym. Cath answered, her voice nasally from her cold. "Hey, Hunter. What's up?"

"I'm going to be late getting back to the gym," I said, watching as the cops queued up the bank customers in front of a desk so they could interview them.

"Is there something wrong?"

"The bank was robbed while I was here," I said. "They want to take statements. I'm fine but I'll be late getting back. Oh, and the bank's closed so I'll have to use the night deposit."

"As long as you’re fine," she said. "I'll tell your father."

"I'm fine. No worse for the wear."

I ended the call and turned back to Mahoney, who was speaking with another detective.

He came over to me, smiling wryly. "So, my partner pointed out that you're the nephew of Donny Saint. I didn’t get it when you said your name."

"That's right," I said. "You're not from Boston, I take it."

"Recent transfer from Queens, New York." He nodded. "My condolences about your brother."

I frowned, surprised that a police detective would offer condolences on the death of Sean. I’d expected to be treated with derision once they found out who I was.

"Thanks," I said, trying to be gracious, unsure if he really meant it.

"I just want to say that Boston PD wasn't involved in your uncle's case or what happened. That was all the feds."

"I understand," I said.

Mahoney spoke briefly with another detective and then turned back to me.

"This is Detective Brand," he said and Brand extended his hand for a shake. He had a pasty complexion, thinning hair, and a belly that suggested he liked donuts more than an exercise bike.

We shook and then Mahoney gestured for me to follow them. We left the bank and walked to a black sedan waiting at the curb.

When we got to the sedan, Mahoney held open the door to the back seat.

"If you don’t mind," he said and motioned inside.

We drove off through the streets of downtown Boston and I had a few moments to think about the attack and what I'd say.