Page 27 of The Maverick (WaterFyre Rising #7)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

ATTIKUS

I walked into Detective Farmer’s office. “Thanks for calling me about the news.”

“You’re welcome. Please have a seat.” He gestured to the leather chair in front of his mahogany desk.

I closed the door, leaned my cane against the chair, and sat down. He’d lost some weight since I last saw him. Or maybe the blue-striped shirt made him look slimmer.

“Is the department working you to death?” I asked.

“Oh, you know how it is working for the city. Overworked and underpaid.”

“Public service is a hard job, and it’s rare to have someone dedicated like you. I’ve met a lot of city workers. Not all of them have the same integrity as you, detective.” I leaned into the table. “So what do you have for me?”

He slid me a folder. “This case has become interesting.”

I arched an eyebrow and opened the folder. A muscle on my cheek twitched as the past flashed across my vision. How in hell did my high school principal’s finger end up in a box sent to Vanessa?

“Are you sure it’s him?” I read the report.

Detective Farmer nodded. “We tested the DNA twice. Both times, it showed Stephen C. Perry.”

I’d looked into all the names of those who had sided with Ashton and his family back then.

Stephen C. Perry had taken money from the Lindor family many times.

He hadn’t cooperated with the investigation regarding Ashton, Bobby, and Harry bullying me and others.

He had been a minor character until now.

“Do you know where he is?” I asked, remembering he had a wife and a daughter.

“Yeah, he’s in the morgue with his wife and daughter.”

“What? How?” I furrowed my brow.

“A friend came to visit and found the family dead in the living room this morning. We’re still investigating.”

“How did they die?”

“It appears like a murder-suicide. Stephen killed his wife and daughter, then turned the gun on himself.”

“With the hand that had the missing finger?” I asked sarcastically.

“How do you know?” Detective Farmer looked at me suspiciously.

Fuck. “I was being sarcastic. If that’s true, the actual killer is stupid, careless, or wants to send a message.”

“What kind of message?”

I pursed my lips. “Maybe Stephen is involved with something bigger. Maybe his death is a warning for those wanting to look further.”

Detective Farmer considered me. He knew about my past because he was the only police officer who had listened to me back then.

Detective Farmer had just graduated from the police academy and had sat with me while I waited to talk to the other two detectives assigned to my family’s murder case.

Detectives Mike Matthews and Benjamin Jones weren’t helpful because I didn’t have money for a top-notch lawyer.

My family’s murder case file was ruled as a fire accident caused by an electrical error and signed off by the fire investigator, Anthony Young.

But I’d looked into these men, and they were also on the Lindor’s payroll.

Just last year, they were all found dead.

Detective Matthews died when he fell off a cliff during a hiking trip, and Detective Jones died from a heart attack even though he had a clean bill of health, according to his family.

Anthony got into an accident during a whitewater raft trip with his friends.

It seemed like the Lindor family was removing anyone with links to them. Why now?

I met Detective Farmer’s eyes. “Maybe you should step back with this investigation. It seems like everyone linked to my family’s murder case is dying.”

“I can’t step back now. If I stop now, there will be questions. Everyone knows I’m like a bulldog with these cases—I won’t let go until I get answers. Also, the system let you down back then.” His jaw tightened. “But I won’t. I take my job seriously.”

“If they came to you with a blank check to buy your loyalty, what would you do?” I asked, knowing too many men had taken that offer in the past.

The country was ruled by men who were easily bought. For all I knew, our government had been compromised by foreign enemies for some time now.

“I’d write ‘fuck off’ on it and return it to them.” He smiled. “Do you still have the check I returned to you?”

A smirk slid onto my lips, remembering when I’d given him a blank check to test him. “No, I fed it to the shredder.”

He laughed. “I’ll keep you posted on what I find out.”

“Thanks.”

Stephen C. Perry would go on my investigation board at home.

How powerful was the Lindor family? I’d looked into their finances, and they had a substantial amount of money, but not millions.

There had to be other accounts. Who was funding them?

They had to be doing something illegal if they were killing people off like this.

What did Stephen do for them? Or did he have information they wanted to bury?

Questions crowded my head.

“Nothing on Joseph?” I asked about my curator.

He shook his head. “That’s another mystery baffling me. Let’s hope we’ll get news on him soon.”

Could Joseph’s disappearance be related to the Lindor family? Was it possible that they were trying to sabotage me?

I rose from the chair and grabbed my cane. “Thank you for the update. Please keep me posted on everything.”

“Will do,” he said.

I walked toward his door.

“Attikus,” he called.

I turned around and met a pair of serious blue eyes. “Yeah?”

“Be careful, okay?”

“You too. Call if you need anything.”

“How’s your leg?” he asked.

“Better every day.” I tapped my cane on the floor.

Detective Farmer was the official the public needed. He was a rare find, and I’d make sure he remained safe not only for my sake, but for those who needed a voice—those who needed justice.

He didn’t know I had my own investigation on the side. It would complicate things if he knew, and I didn’t want him to lose his job for me.

Inside my car, I checked Vanessa’s text message for the food. Then I called it in and headed to Saigon Bistro.

You seem carefree when you whistle.

Her voice echoed in my head. I hadn’t noticed that I’d whistled again until she pointed it out.

I used to whistle whenever I sketched. It was a calm trance when I was at ease.

The whistling used to annoy my sister. Vanessa had put me in a comfortable state of mind that allowed dormant aspects of myself to emerge.

No one and nothing had been able to do that.

What else could she lure out of me?

There was no doubt that she was as attracted to me as I was to her. I desperately wanted to know how long my Lily Pad could refrain from kissing me. I knew she wanted me to addthat clause to the contract to protect herself. But I saw through her and had my own agenda.

She should have reviewed the contract more carefully when I gave her a copy so we could both sign it in front of each other. All she had cared about were the demands she requested and not the fine print that was added, which benefited both parties who were attracted to each other.

I got dinner and drove home, loving the idea that I was going home to her.