Wild Secret

of trouble, am I?" she asked innocently. "I mean, you’re not gonna tell my parents, are you?"
"That depends," I said.
"On what?"
"How cooperative you are."
She looked at me and swallowed hard.
“Is Justin your boyfriend?"
She shrugged tentatively. "I mean, we hang out."
"He takes you out and gets you high?"
She shook her head. "I don't smoke."
Judging by the condition of her eyes, I would say she was lying. “I thought you were gonna cooperate."
"I'm not going to admit to doing something illegal. Do I look stupid?"
“Well, your choice of friends leaves a little to be desired.”
She scowled at me.
“Are you engaged in a sexual relationship with Justin?”
“No. Perv!”
I rolled my eyes. Probably another lie. "You're a pretty girl. You can do better than Justin."
She didn't disagree.
"Tell me about the traffic stop," I said.
She pretty much told me the same story. Two guys in a silver sedan, wearing ski masks with a submachine gun.
"I told him we need to report it,” she said, “but Justin didn't want to say anything. He was afraid we’d get in trouble. And it appears that we are.”
"Did you get a look at the license plate?"
She shook her head. "It was kind of surreal. I heard the gunshots, and it took me a second to process what was happening. I looked through the back window and saw them gun the cop down. I was stunned. I just watched them pass by. The two killers glared at us, and I ducked in my seat. I really thought they were going to shoot us for a second. Then they took off. Justin started the car, and we got the hell out of there." She paused. "I'm really sorry about your friend."
Kennedy was a sharp kid. I couldn’t tell if she was saying that just to get on our good side or if it was sincere. Maybe a little of both.
"Do your parents know where you are?" I asked.
"My parents don't care where I am." She paused. "What's gonna happen to Justin?"
"He's going to get charged with several misdemeanors."
"Will he do jail time?"
I shrugged.
"What about me?"
“Have you been drinking?"
She shook her head.
I lifted my brow.
"A couple of beers,” she admitted.
"You’re too young to drink beer."
"Like you guys never did the same thing."
JD and I exchanged a glance.
"I'm gonna call your parents to come pick you up."
She frowned. “Do you have to? Can’t you just give me a ride home and drop me off, and we’ll call it even? It's just gonna start a lot of unnecessary drama."
She looked at me with sad, pouty eyes, pleading for a break.

11
I had Mendoza run the girl home. I strongly urged her to reconsider her life choices. She was about to turn 18 in two weeks, and any trouble she got into would stick with her. It was pretty clear she wasn’t going to rat out Justin at this point.
Every patrol unit on the island was looking for the silver sedan. We cruised around for an hour with our eyes peeled. With no luck, we eventually left it to the patrol units and headed back to Diver Down.
"I heard about the shooting on the news," Teagan said. "You guys have any leads?"
I frowned and shook my head.
"I'm really sorry."
"Thanks."
We ordered a drink, and JD lifted his glass. "To Chuck."
We clinked glasses and sipped the whiskey. It was hard to believe Chuck was gone. The gravity of it hadn’t fully sunk in yet. JD and I were in a somber mood as we nursed our drinks.
We called it an early night. JD headed home, and I ambled down the dock. I crossed the passerelle to the aft deck and slid open the door to the salon. Buddy greeted me with excitement. He was a bright spot in an otherwise dreary evening.
I grabbed his leash and took him out for a quick walk before bed. I tossed and turned all night, thinking about Chuck, dreaming about the incident, helpless to stop it.
Chuck was one of those guys you couldn't help but like. Anytime someone in the department went down, we all felt it. It could happen to any of us at anytime.
I pulled myself out of bed in the morning as the sun blasted through the windows. That uneasy feeling from the night before still lingered. Something was wrong with the world, and there was no way to make it right.
I took Buddy out for a run. Despite having a sleepless night, I had restless energy to burn off. I came back to the boat, fixed breakfast, and tried to shake off the gloomy feeling.
Daniels called. “We got a report this morning of a stolen car. Silver four-door sedan. Belongs to a woman named Norah Griffith. Says she stepped out of her house for work this morning and the car wasn’t where she’d left it. I'll let you know if and when it turns up, but I'm guessing that's the vehicle the shooters used."
"Keep me posted. Have you talked to Ellie?"
"I paid her a visit and broke the news to her last night. All things considered, she took it pretty well, or at least, she put on a good front. I tell you, if I never have to do that again, that’d be just fine with me."
"I understand."
"I told her you boys would be over sometime today. Talk to her. See if you can piece this thing together. I’m of the mind that this wasn't a random shooting. Start poking around. Find out who wanted Chuck dead."
"I'm on it."
I took a shower, got dressed, and grabbed my weapon from the nightstand drawer. I press checked it and holstered it in my waistband for an appendix carry.
I called JD, and he swung by the marina 15 minutes later to pick me up. I jogged down the dock and hopped into the passenger seat of the Miami Blue Porsche. We drove across the island, the morning sun beaming down.
Chuck and Ellie had a nice one-story home on Bloom Street. It was surrounded by a white picket fence and two