Hunt and Prey (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 8), Kaylie Hunter [best motivational books txt] 📗

It wasn’t the first time I’d heard those words. Far from it. But I’d only heard them said with that level of determination once before. She was prepared to shoot. Either at us, or if necessary, she’d shoot herself. I stepped forward, aimed, and fired.

Dodd’s scream pierced the air as Wild Card and Maggie moved into the office behind me.

“Clear!” I yelled loud enough to be heard over the wailing.

Maggie moved around me. “Damn. That’s gotta hurt.” Maggie kicked Dodd’s gun away, then cuffed the wrist on her good arm, looking around for something to attach the cuff to.

Chambers, Gibson, Uncle Hank, and Quille entered from the door on the opposite end of the room.

I pointed to Chambers and Gibson and thumbed over my shoulder. “The driver is in the truck.”

They moved past us. Quille continued to stare at Sue Dodd. Maggie gave up trying to figure out what to do with the handcuffs and let go. Dodd used her now free hand to hold together the pieces of her shattered elbow. She wasn’t going anywhere but to the hospital.

Quille walked over, whispering in my ear, “I.A. is going to suspend you. You should’ve let someone else shoot her.”

“If we turn the case over to ATF,” Maggie said, hearing Quille through her earpiece. “It should buy you about a week before I.A. hears about it. But I can’t guarantee the Feds will give your precinct credit for the bust.”

Quille’s eyes narrowed at me, then Maggie, then back at me.

I shrugged, trying to hide my grin. “You know if I’m suspended before this weekend, your cruise with Miranda will be put on hold. Your choice is divorce court or losing credit on a tobacco smuggling case.”

“Fine,” Quille snapped as he stormed toward the back door. “Make the call!”

Chapter Forty-Four

KELSEY

Wednesday, 5:15 a.m.

Sleeping with one ear open, I heard multiple vehicles pull into the driveway. I reached for my phone and waited. Seconds later, I read Tyler’s text: Charlie and crew. All home and safe.

I sighed, throwing my head back on the pillow. Charlie was going to be the death of me. It didn’t matter how old she was, or how good at her job she was, I couldn’t stop worrying about her.

Curious as to why they were returning so late, I rolled to the right, off the bed, and stood. Already wearing a sports bra and sweatpants, I pulled a lightweight sweatshirt over my head, added a shoulder holster, and snapped in my gun.

Exiting my assigned bedroom, I paused at the door of the bunkroom, peeking in on the kids. They were sound asleep on their top bunks. Carl was snoring loudly from one of the bottom bunks. Trigger opened one eye and looked at me from the other bottom bunk. He gave a thumbs up. I walked away.

I took my time walking down the three flights of stairs. After only a few hours of sleep, I didn’t have the energy to move any faster. At the bottom, I rounded the corner into the kitchen and froze at the chaos.

Hattie and Aunt Suzanne were already up and, it appeared, struggling to find their rightful place in the pecking order of the house. Aunt Suzanne had almost every pan, bowl, and glass dish full of food. Hattie was filling a coffee carafe and snapped at Aunt Suzanne when she stirred Hattie’s pan of eggs.

I looked over and saw Charlie standing between the living room and the dining room table. She raised an eyebrow at me as we both walked to the table and sat. Hattie rushed over with a cup of coffee, scrambled eggs, two pieces of bacon, and a bowl of fruit for me. As she returned to the kitchen, Aunt Suzanne rushed to Charlie, setting an overflowing plate of salt, grease, and syrup. I looked over at Whiskey at the other end of the table. He winked at me before taking another bite of his breakfast. Crowded in front of him, he had two plates of breakfast, a bowl of fruit, a cup of coffee, a glass of milk, a glass of orange juice, and a glass of something else that looked disturbingly like tomato juice.

I watched the women as I ate my eggs.

Aunt Suzanne reached for the spatula and Hattie snapped, “Don’t even think about it!” with a pointy finger aimed at Aunt Suzanne.

“You’re overcooking the eggs,” Aunt Suzanne argued.

“I’m cooking them exactly how my family likes them,” Hattie snapped again as she retrieved a plate and filled it with the eggs. By the time she turned around, Bones had walked into the kitchen and Hattie set the plate and a cup of coffee in front of him.

“Maybe he wanted my pancakes or some fried potatoes,” Aunt Suzanne said to Hattie.

“He doesn’t,” Hattie replied, setting a glass of juice down for Bones.

“I’m a little scared,” Bones said to me in a low voice as he watched the women.

“You should do something,” Charlie whispered, elbowing me.

“Like what?” I asked. “Call SWAT?”

“I have no idea,” Charlie whispered, “but if this goes on much longer, we may need SWAT to separate them.”

“If they start throwing punches,” Whiskey whispered, “My money’s on Hattie.”

“I don’t know,” Charlie said. “That’s a tough one. Aunt Suzanne fights dirty. I watched her get mugged once. She beat the snot out of the mugger before calling into the precinct for a black and white to transport him to booking. Then, she said we needed to hurry up or we’d miss our nail appointment. She’s scrappy.”

“Hattie’s old school, though,” I said, grinning. “She’d go straight for the biggest fry pan.”

“And Hattie wouldn’t warn Suzanne first. She’d wait until Suzanne’s back was turned,” Whiskey added.

“We can hear you!” Hattie scolded from the other side of the kitchen island, narrowing her eyes