Busted Read online

“Well.” She glanced down at the Glock. “That changes the tone.”

  “You’re the reason they’re dead. Wayne, Doug-Ray, maybe Pete. Certainly Billie.”

  She stubbed the end of the joint out on the table. “I only got a few years left. I’m not gonna end up spending them in some damn state-run nursing home stewing in my own piss.”

  “You sacrificed all those lives so you could enjoy your retirement?”

  “I’ve earned it.” She shrugged again, this time with both shoulders. “Two, maybe three less men walking the planet. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve done the world a favor.”

  “Not all men are bad.”

  She snorted, as if he’d told her a really bad joke. “You’d put me in jail if you could.”

  “Prison,” he told her. “Jail is where you await trial. Prison is where you go after you’re sentenced.”

  “You gonna put my picture in Busted?” She laughed at his surprise. “I work at a convenience store, numbnuts. We look at that thing every week to see how many customers are in it.”

  “I’m going to make sure you’re the centerfold.”

  “You’d have to be a hell of a lot smarter than you come across.”

  Will leaned in closer. Maw-Maw did the same, like they were about to throw it down and arm-wrestle.

  He said, “You’ve been lying to the police all day.”

  “I did what I had to do.”

  “You lied to the police about working at the store this morning.”

  “Yep.”

  “You lied to the police about being Billie’s grandmother.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You lied to the police about your sons being involved in the robbery.”

  “I did.”

  “You lied to the police about being in the back of the Chevy this morning.”

  She smiled.

  “I know that was you.” Will recalled the shambling departure the third robber had made from the back of the truck. It wasn’t the case of a man being covert. It was the case of an old woman trying not to break a bone.

  He said, “You went to the back of the store to wait for Billie. You were there to make sure she didn’t run.”

  She shrugged. “Girl never had much of a spine.”

  “You’ve been obstructing this investigation from the beginning.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” She employed her patented one-shoulder shrug. “Am I supposed to be sorry?”

  “You killed Billie.”

  She moved back in the chair. She was cocky, but she knew she was talking to a police officer. “That was clearly self-defense.”

  Will narrowed his eyes. “Is it clear?”

  “I’ll get a good lawyer,” she told him. “I’ve recently come into some family money.”

  “You even lied about things that didn’t matter. Gilbert wasn’t Jewish.”

  “He was never circumcised.” She snorted with disgust. “I suppose Obamacare will take care of that.”

  Will refused to let her sidetrack him. “Why lie? Why lie to the police for no reason?”

  “Because I can,” she answered, like it was simple. “Because it’s fun. Because watching y’all spin around chasing your tails all day has been the most entertainment I’ve had in ages.” She gave a rascally chuckle. “If that’s a crime, then arrest me.”

  “Okay.” Will stood up. He pulled a set of handcuffs out of his back pocket. “Please stand.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Samantha Lewis, I’m placing you under arrest.”

  “What the hell for?” She was talking tough, but there was genuine concern in her eyes. “You can’t prove I had anything to do with that robbery. You can’t prove what happened with Billie was anything but self-defense.”

  “You’re probably right,” Will allowed. “But I’m absolutely certain I can prove you lied to the police. That’s a felony, Mrs. Lewis. Each instance carries a five-year prison sentence. By my count, you just admitted to it four times, plus copped to willfully obstructing an investigation.” He matched her hillbilly cadence. “Did you not know all that’s illegal?”

  “What the—” She tried to stand, nearly knocking over the chair in the process. “I didn’t—”

  “You did.” Will reached into his shirt and pulled out the microphone that was clipped to the inside of his collar. “And you admitted to doing all of it on tape.” He hoped there was a twinkle in his eye when he smiled. “Thanks for waiving your rights, by the way.”

  “I turned that off!” she screamed. The effort nearly knocked the wind out of her. She gripped the counter for support. “You bastard! I’ll cut off your balls and feed them to the pigs!”

  Will opened the kitchen door. Faith was standing there. He had done a lot of outlandish things today – wasted twelve minutes waiting on an Icee, chased after a murderer without a gun or backup, jumped from a speeding motorcycle – but he didn’t have it in him to handcuff an eighty-four-year-old woman, no matter how detestable her crimes. Besides, her wrists were too thin for the cuffs.

  Faith said, “Samantha Lewis, you have the right to remain silent.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Please exercise your right to remain silent.” Faith tried to grab the old woman’s hands. “You have a right to an attorney.”

  Maw-Maw slapped her away like she was swatting flies. Faith was not deterred. She held both of the woman’s wrists in one hand. With her free hand, she pulled out a plastic zip tie. Will saw Faith wince as the plastic cut against the woman’s thin skin.

  “Idiots!” Maw-Maw said. “They won’t convict me! I’m just an old woman! I won’t spend a day behind bars!”

  “Our boss is with the state prosecutor right now,” Faith told her. “You know we’re with the state, right? The jury for your trial won’t be from Forest Park.”

  Maw-Maw’s mouth opened as she sucked air.

  Faith continued, “Believe it or not, Georgia is cracking down on people who lie to the police. The attorney general plans on making an example of you.”

  “That’s not true!” Maw-Maw’s voice had a pleading tone to it. “You watch. There’s not a jury alive who’ll convict me. I was protecting my family! Anybody would do that!”

  “We’ll see in a year or so,” Faith said. “That’s about how long this will take to come to trial. Unless you have somebody who’ll bail you out? Maybe a family member?”

  Maw-Maw’s mouth gaped open and closed. Will could almost see the wheels turning in her head. She mistook his attention for an opening, telling him, “What I said before – I told you, sonny, I got dementia. I can’t remember things. I was under the influence of drugs. I got Alzheimer’s”

  “Keep practicing for the trial.” Faith pressed her hand to Maw-Maw’s shoulder to get her moving. “Maybe some of the girls at the jail can help you.”

  Will smiled as warmly as he could. “I hear they love meeting new people.”

  “No!” Maw-Maw lunged for Will. She grabbed his shirt in her fists. “You fucking bastard! You can’t send me to jail! I can’t live out my life with a bunch of dykes!”

  Will carefully pried her bony fingers from his shirt. “Don’t worry,” he told the old woman. “I hear they taste just like peanut butter.”

  If you enjoyed Busted, look out for Unseen, Karin Slaughter’s gripping new novel featuring Special Agent Will Trent, coming in hardcover and ebook in July 2013.

  Special Agent Will Trent has something to hide.

  Something he doesn’t want Dr Sara Linton – the woman he loves – to find out.

  He’s gone undercover in Macon, Georgia and put his life at risk. And he knows Sara will never forgive him if she discovers the truth.

  But when a young Macon patrolman is shot and left for dead Sara is forced to confront the past and a woman she hoped never to see again. And without even knowing it, she becomes involved in the same case Will is working on.

  Soon both of their lives are in danger.

  Read on for
an extract…

  CHAPTER ONE

  WEDNESDAY, MACON GEORGIA

  Detective Lena Adams winced as she pulled off her T-shirt. She took her police badge out of her pocket, along with her flashlight and an extra clip for her Glock, and tossed them all onto the dresser. The time on her phone showed it was almost midnight. Lena had rolled out of bed eighteen hours ago and now all she wanted to do was fall back in. Not that she’d done that much lately. For the past four days, just about every waking hour had been wasted sitting at a conference room table answering questions she’d answered the day before and the day before that – navigating the usual bullshit that came from having to justify your actions to Internal Affairs.

  ‘Who led the raid into the house?’

  ‘What intelligence were you acting on?’

  ‘What did you expect to find?’

  The internal investigator for the Macon Police Department had the dour, lifeless personality of a career pencil pusher. Every day, the woman showed up dressed in the same style black skirt and white blouse, an outfit that seemed more appropriate for greeting diners at an Olive Garden. She nodded a lot, frowned even more as she took notes. When Lena didn’t answer quickly, she’d check the tape recorder to make sure it was picking up the silences.

  Lena was certain most of the questions were designed to provoke an outburst. The first day, Lena had been so numb that she’d just answered truthfully in the hope that it would soon be over. The second and third days, she’d been less forthcoming, her level of irritation rising with each passing minute. Today, she had finally exploded, which seemed exactly what the woman had been waiting for.

  ‘What do you think I expected to find, you miserable bitch?’

  If only Lena hadn’t found it. If only she could take a razor and slice the images out of her brain. They haunted her. They flickered into her vision like an old movie every time she blinked. They filled her with a constant, unrelenting sorrow.

  Lena started to rub her eyes, then thought better of it. Six days had passed since she’d led her team on the raid, but her body was still a walking reminder of what had happened. The bruise fingering its way across her nose and underneath her left eye had turned a urine-yellow. The three stitches holding together the cut in her scalp itched like a rash.

  Then there were the things that no one could see – Lena’s bruised tailbone. Her aching back and knees. The roil in her stomach every time she thought about what she’d discovered in that desolate house in the woods.

  Four dead bodies. One man still in the hospital. Another who might never wear the badge again. Not to mention the terrible memory she would probably end up taking to her grave.

  Tears came into Lena’s eyes. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to let the grief have its way. She was exhausted. The week had been hard. Hell, the last three weeks had been hard. But it was over now. All of it was over. Lena was safe. She would keep her job. The rat squad investigator had scurried back to her hole. Lena was finally home where no one could stare at her, question her, probe and prod her. It wasn’t just Internal Affairs. Everyone wanted to know what the raid had been like, what Lena had found in that dark, dank basement.

  And Lena wanted nothing more than to forget all about it.

  Her cell phone chirped. Lena exhaled until her lungs were completely empty. The phone chirped a second time. She picked it up. There was a new text message.

  VICKERY: u ok?

  Lena stared at the words. Paul Vickery, her partner.

  She tapped reply. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard.

  The distant rumble of a motorcycle shook the air.

  Instead of typing out a response, Lena held down the power button until the phone turned off. She placed it on the dresser beside her badge.

  The roar of the Harley D’s twin-cam engine vibrated in her ears as Jared gunned the bike so he could make it to the top of their steep driveway. Lena waited, following the familiar sounds: the engine cutting, the metallic groan of the kickstand, the heavy tread of boots as her husband made his way into the house, tossed his helmet and keys onto the kitchen table even though she’d asked him a million times not to. He paused for a moment, probably to check the mail, then continued toward their bedroom.

  Lena kept her back to the door as she counted off Jared’s footsteps down the long hallway. His stride sounded tentative, reluctant. He’d probably been hoping Lena would be asleep.

  Jared stopped at the doorway. He was obviously waiting for Lena to turn around. When she didn’t, he asked, ‘You just get in?’

  ‘I stayed late to finish.’ It wasn’t a complete lie. She’d hoped Jared would be asleep, too. ‘I was about to take a shower.’

  ‘All right.’

  Lena didn’t go into the bathroom. Instead, she turned to face him.

  Jared’s gaze flickered down to her bra, then quickly back up again. He was dressed in his uniform, his hair twisted into a peak from the helmet. He was a cop with the Macon PD, too – a motorman, one rank below Lena and twelve years younger. Neither one of these things used to bother her, but lately, everything inch of their lives was a provocation.

  He leaned against the doorjamb, asking, ‘How’d it go?’

  ‘They cleared me to go back to work.’

  ‘That’s good, right?’

  She replayed his words in her head, trying to decipher the tone. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’

  Jared didn’t respond. There was a long, uncomfortable silence before he asked, ‘You want a drink?’

  Lena couldn’t hide her surprise.

  ‘I guess it’s okay now, right?’ He tilted his head to the side, forced his lips into a tight smile. He was a few inches taller than Lena, but his muscular frame and athletic grace made him seem larger.

  Usually.

  Jared cleared his throat to let her know that he was waiting.

  She nodded. ‘’Kay.’

  Jared left the room, but his need lingered – surrounding her, almost suffocating her. He needed for Lena to break down. He needed for her to lean on him. He needed her to show him that what happened had affected her, had altered her in some tangible way.

  He couldn’t see that not giving in was the only thing that kept her from falling completely apart.

  Lena took her pajamas out of the dresser. She heard Jared moving around the kitchen. He opened the freezer door, rummaged around for a handful of ice. Lena closed her eyes. Her body swayed. She waited for the cubes to hit glass. Her mouth watered in anticipation.

  She clenched her jaw. Forced open her eyes.

  She wanted the drink too badly. When Jared came back, she would put the glass down, wait a few minutes, prove to herself that she could do without it.

  Prove to him that she didn’t need it.

  Her hands ached as she unbuttoned her jeans. The day of the raid, she’d gripped her shotgun so hard that her fingers had felt like they were permanently curled. She wasn’t sure why everything still ached. She should be better now, but her body was holding onto the hurt. Holding on to the poison that was eating her up inside.

  ‘So.’ Jared was back. This time, he came into the room. He poured a large vodka as he walked toward her, the bottle gurgling as the liquid splashed into the glass. ‘You’re back on duty tomorrow?’

  ‘First thing.’

  He handed her the glass. ‘No time off?’

  Lena took the drink and downed half of it in one gulp.

  ‘I guess that’s the same as when…’ His voice trailed off. He didn’t have to say when. Instead, he looked out the back window. The dark panes showed his reflection. ‘I bet you get your sergeant’s stripes off this.’

  She shook her head, but said, ‘Maybe.’

  He stared at her – waiting. Needing.

  She asked, ‘What are they saying at the station?’

  Jared walked to the closet. ‘That you’ve got balls of steel.’ He dialed the combination on the gun safe. Lena watched the back of his neck. There was a pink line of sunburn where his helm
et didn’t protect the skin. He must’ve known she was watching, but he just took his holster off his belt and stored his gun beside hers. Near hers. He didn’t even let their guns touch.

  She asked, ‘Does it bother you?’

  He shut the safe door, spun the combination. ‘Why would it bother me?’

  Lena didn’t say the words, but they were screaming in her head: Because they think I’m tougher than you. Because your wife was tracking down some very bad guys while you were toodling around on your bike giving tickets to soccer moms.

  Jared said, ‘I’m proud of you.’ He used his reasonable voice, the one that made Lena want to punch him in the face. ‘They should give you a medal for what you did.’

  He had no idea what she’d done. Jared only knew the highlights, the details Lena was allowed to share outside closed doors.

  She repeated the question. ‘Does it bother you?’

  He paused for a second too long. ‘It bothers me that you could’ve been killed.’

  He still hadn’t answered the question. Lena studied his face. The skin was still unlined, fresh. She’d met Jared when he was twenty-one, and in the five and a half years since, he’d somehow started looking younger, like he was aging in reverse. Or maybe Lena was getting older more quickly. So much had changed since those early days. In the beginning, she could always tell what he was thinking. Of course, since then, she’d given him plenty of mortar to build up a wall around himself.

  He started unbuttoning his shirt. ‘I think I’m gonna put those cabinets together.’

  She gave a startled laugh. ‘Really?’ The kitchen had been torn apart for three months, mostly because Jared found a new reason every weekend to not work on it.

  He let his shirt drop to the floor. ‘At least Ikea will know I’m still the man of the house.’

  Now that it was out there, Lena didn’t know how to respond. ‘You know it’s not like that.’ Even to her own ears, the excuse sounded weak. ‘It’s just not.’

  ‘Really?’

  Lena didn’t answer.

  ‘Right.’ Jared’s cell phone started to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket, checked the number, and declined the call.