The Penitent One (Boston Crime Thriller Book 3), Brian Shea [best non fiction books of all time .TXT] 📗

glad you two are all right. Now listen carefully, I don't want you to say anything to anybody here on scene. Do you understand me? We'll reconvene for a formal statement of what occurred here. We’ll do it by the numbers when you're ready, and I'll make sure that you have union representation on hand when we do.” He paused and looked down at her holstered weapon. “Detective Barnes, I'm going to need to take your duty weapon."

There was no feeling worse for a cop than having their gun removed. It made the officer involved feel like they’d done something wrong. Kelly knew this all too well. Halstead must've understood also after working in IA for eight plus years. As soon as he took her gun, he unholstered his and placed it into her holster.

"No good cop should be without. You two are going to be riding a desk for a bit until this gets sorted by the official channels, but let me say—you did a hell of a job here today. And you have my word, I'll back you all the way."

Kelly looked on as the medics prepared to move Walsh on the gurney.

The mob boss he’d recently discovered was his biological father was breathing from an oxygen mask, his eyelids fluttering, as they wheeled him by. Kelly felt a strange impassivity at seeing him in such a condition. He had no feelings for the man, even after learning their connection, other than knowing he was one of the city's biggest problems. His issues on that would have to wait. Because right now, the killer who had just executed six mobsters, and nearly Barnes and Mainelli, had just escaped capture once again.

The only difference was he was now wounded.

Kelly looked at the floor as the gurney was wheeled down the hallway and out of view. On the plush white carpeting, now smattered in various shades of red, were the remaining green roses. A total of seven in all, meaning their killer knew exactly the odds he was up against when he entered. Now, six of those seven were dead, and one was hanging on to life by a thread.

Dawes had been sent to process the scene while Charles continued to work on the evidence from the house in Agawam. The door to The Depot was closed as Halstead recounted the situation and the state of the case as it was. The three detectives, plus Gray, were present.

Mainelli couldn't stop rubbing his thick hands together, as if he couldn't get the sweat or Walsh’s blood off his skin. He looked paler than usual. The olive-skinned Italian was as white as an Irishman in winter. Even though he hadn’t fired his weapon, he was still involved, still there when the rounds flew, and it had obviously taken a toll. The mental strain was evident on the veteran detective's face.

Barnes, on the other hand, seemed to be making her way back. Pulling the trigger also had that effect; Kelly had seen it firsthand when he had been in a situation that called for him to take action. The other officer on scene didn’t fire his gun, but the one who makes the decision to pull the trigger when it's justified or righteous can usually come to terms with it.

It's a much harder thing to grip when you didn't fire, when the enemy was downrange and presenting a threat but for some reason you couldn't pull the trigger. Mainelli fell into that category. He would be filled with the self-doubt and self-loathing that came from those rarer than rare moments in law enforcement where deadly force was necessary. Everybody thinks that when push comes to shove, when their life is on the line, they’ll take the shot. But some don't. Some freeze. At least in this case, it didn't cost another cop her life. And maybe if Mainelli had fired, it would have stopped their killer. Maybe not. He would forever question that, and the answer would forever elude him.

"As far as field work, we're down to three, including me," Halstead said. "Mainelli and Barnes will assist from the desk. Just so you know, I've already given a quick debrief to Superintendent Acevedo. And he said, barring any new information, you guys should be good on the shoot. You know how these things go. It's going to take a little while to clear you, especially once press gets wind. I've put you both on light duty, effective immediately. Meaning you can come and go as you please in the building, regular shift stuff, and you can work the paper trail from inside the office. Just no field work. Kelly and Gray, you guys will handle any of the field work required from this point forward, do you understand me?"

Both nodded.

"Try not to blow up any houses this time," Halstead added.

It was the first time Kelly had seen Halstead try to make a joke. If it was a joke. Impossible to tell from the man's flat inflection.

Kelly's phone vibrated with a text message from Charles that said, "Call ASAP."

"It's Charles," Kelly said, interrupting Halstead. He called the senior crime scene technician. "What do you got, Ray? I'm in a meeting."

"Well, put me on speaker."

Kelly did as he was told, placing his cell phone in the middle of the conference table.

"You’ve got everybody here. Sergeant Halstead, Mainelli, Barnes, myself, and Gray."

"Guys, you're going to want to hear this."

"We're all ears, Ray," Halstead said. "Go ahead."

"Well, I took that prayer kneeler from the Agawam house. I took the whole thing. I wasn't sure, but I just felt like there were such potential DNA points beyond the shackles that it was worth bringing it in and going over it with a fine-tooth comb."

"I thought you already sent those submissions off for analysis."

"I did, and we're still waiting."

"Then what's the news?" Halstead asked.

"I found something in the wood siding. I don't know what made me look there, but I was looking for some trace fibers along