Sign of the Maker (Boston Crime Thriller Book 4), Brian Shea [free reads .txt] 📗

we're working with, she seems to be the only one interested in keeping us in the loop."

"Maybe that's how she is. Maybe she's a team player. You know, there are a lot of good agents. Remember Gray?" Kelly referenced FBI Special Agent Sterling Gray, who'd proven himself to be as good a partner as any street cop Kelly had worked with, including the one tucked under his arm.

"I do," she said, "and yes, there are good agents. Not what I'm saying. I just find it funny that she called you instead of me."

The hint of jealousy surprised Kelly. He'd felt the same about Hutchins and his calendar. Neither one of them were jealous people by nature, but as things began to get serious, Kelly found himself desperate to hold on. Maybe it was just a fallout from the divorce, a fear that even the best relationships could come to an end. The green monster had reared its head, and both were suffering from it. Both knew the fragility of relationships, especially between cops.

He was madly in love with Barnes and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. It was a commitment he had shared only with himself when staring into the mirror. He'd never uttered a word of it to anybody, especially Barnes. Although, holding her here and now, he wanted to, but the time wasn't right. The time was never right. In the wake of the two bombings, and knowing the residual stress of the marathon attack, he knew that topic was too heady, too much for right now. Light and easy, that was what they needed prior to drifting off to sleep for the allotted four hours before their rotation started again.

"I just think she wants to make sure we're involved. That's all." Kelly dismissed the jealous comment. It was late, but he realized they needed something to look forward to. "I've got Embry next weekend. I'm going to take her to the Cape before it gets too cold. And I'd like you to come with us. Interested?"

She broke eye contact and nuzzled in deeper. "You sure about that? That's your time."

Kelly knew her point. Early on in their dating relationship, Kelly had tried to strike a balance between his budding relationship with Barnes and his responsibilities as a single parent. During the first few months of their courtship, Kelly had typically reserved his weekends with Embry for father-daughter activities. "I'm sure."

"Do you think Embry will be okay with it?"

"Of course. She was the one begging me to ask you." Begging might've been a stretch, but Embry had been excited when Kelly spoke to his nine-year-old about it. They'd done things together over the last six months, but the three of them had never gone away together. It was a big step for Kelly to ask. Barnes had taken a genuine liking to Embry, who, in turn, had fallen in love with Barnes.

Seeing the two get along so well gave Kelly hope for the future and filled the vast void left in the wake of his divorce. For the first time in a long time, Michael Kelly felt whole again. He was no longer the fragmented pieces of a shattered life.

"What do you think we're going to get out of this guy if we get a chance to talk to him?" Barnes asked, changing the subject.

"I have no idea, but I've got to hear it from the man himself. I want to hear what he has to say. I need to see his eyes. I need to be the one in the box interrogating him and finding out what he knows."

"That's even if we're able to talk to him," Barnes offered, looking at her watch. "We still haven't heard from Halstead."

"He said he'd let us know in the morning. He's been pretty good about supporting us so far. I'm sure he'll try to come through if he can."

Barnes’s eyes fluttered and her head dipped slightly. She mumbled something unintelligible as sleep began to grip her.

"All right, let's get some sleep," Kelly said.

Barnes scooped up Bruschi, who offered no resistance. She carried him over to a carpet-lined cat tower and laid him to rest at the top tier. The cat immediately curled into a tight ball.

As Kelly followed Barnes into her bedroom, his cell phone vibrated in his hand. He looked down at the incoming text message from Halstead.

"Green light for Collins. Interview set for 9:00 a.m." Kelly read the message aloud. "Looks like we're good to go. Halstead came through."

"I didn't doubt it for a minute," Barnes said.

They slid under the covers. Kelly set the alarm on his cell phone, and in less than a minute, both were sound asleep.

12

Kelly nursed his large cup of Dunkin' as he drove toward Souza-Baranowski Correctional Center, located in Lancaster, Massachusetts. The maximum-security prison was home to roughly eight hundred inmates, including their person of interest, Liam Collins. Kelly was still shaking the cobwebs from his fitful night of sleep. He tossed and turned for the few hours he had. Ten minutes out and the caffeine had done little to push back the fog encircling his head.

Barnes, on the other hand, was alert and wide awake. She rose an hour before Kelly, managing to slip in a quick five-miler around the Charles River. Running was as important to Barnes as breathing. Regardless of the day, weather, or circumstances, she found a way to fit one in.

Although running wasn't his thing, Kelly understood the drive. He was desperately in need of his ring time. Those sparring matches and bag work at Pops's boxing gym went beyond the obvious fitness benefits. It provided him with the ultimate release. Each punch delivered or received freed the pain, aggravation, and stress of the job. Boxing had been his passion when he was young; now it was his salvation.

They'd game-planned the interview strategy on the first half hour of the drive, with Barnes suggesting he take the lead. As they drove the last