Denouement Read Free

he’s there first. I’m going to pull up his home address from my office. I’ll meet you at your desk in a few minutes.”
    The elevator doors opened and let us out on the third floor. I walked into my office, sat at my desk, and pulled up Iler’s home address. I jotted down his address in my notepad and went to meet Hank at his desk.
    He stood. “Not in today.”
    “Let’s go to his house and knock on his door.”
    “Where does he live?” Hank asked.
    “Just on the outskirts of Carrollwood. I have his address written down.”
    Hank and I took an unmarked Charger from the station’s parking structure and headed out. We picked up a tail before we got out of the station’s lot. While Iler’s house was just under ten miles away, with traffic, it took us the better part of a half hour to get there. Hodges, in his government-issued sedan, never strayed too far behind. We pulled up to the curb in front of Iler’s house. A new, black, convertible Mustang sat in the driveway with the top down.
    “Looks like someone is here. What’s the plan?” Hank asked.
    “Bring him back to the station for questioning.”
    “If he doesn’t feel like cooperating?”
    I smirked. “Let’s hope he doesn’t feel like cooperating.” I pulled the door handle and stepped out onto the street while Hank exited the passenger side. I looked back down the block and saw Hodges parked at the corner. I shook my head.
    “What?” Hank asked.
    “FBI babysitter.” I jerked my chin toward Hodges’s car.
    “They put someone on watching you?” Hank asked.
    “Yeah, a five-foot, hundred-pound bodyguard.”
    “Does he need to know what we’re doing?”
    I shook my head and pointed up at the house. “Nope.”
    We walked up the oil-stained driveway toward the house. The single-story home looked to have been built in the late nineties. The house was beige with a darker-brown trim around the windows, front door, and garage. The grass was mostly dead, the landscaping and shrubbery overgrown.
    “It doesn’t look like Iler is one for yard maintenance,” Hank said.
    I grunted a response and continued into the covered entry. Hank followed a few feet behind.
    I reached out and thumbed the doorbell. The sound of footsteps came from inside. The door’s peephole flashed, letting me know someone inside was looking out. I heard footsteps again, fast that time.
    “Shit, he’s running,” I said.
    Hank disappeared around the side of the house toward the back. I retreated to the street and pulled my weapon. From the vantage point of the street, I could see the front and both sides of the house. I saw no movement anywhere.
    A moment later, Hank’s voice called from the back. He had Iler. I walked up the driveway and along the side of the house toward the backyard. I broke the corner with eyes on the yard as my head went to the left. On the patio, Hank had Iler on the ground with a knee in his back. Hank was clicking cuffs around his wrists.
    I walked over.
    “What the hell?” Iler asked.
    “I caught him trying to run out the back there.” Hank nodded toward the patio door. He looked down at Iler beneath him. “What are you running for, Iler? We just wanted to talk.”
    Iler flipped his head to the side but didn’t respond.
    Hank pulled him to his feet. The front of Iler’s black T-shirt was covered in sand. The gray basketball shorts he wore were ripped. His knees were bloodied and his round face red.
    I stood before Iler. “Nice car out front. Did you spend some of your Azarov money on that?”
    Iler shook his head, shedding some dirt from his short blond hair. “I didn’t do anything. This is some kind of a mistake.”
    Simmering anger built inside of me. He was lying to my face. I balled up the chest of his shirt in my fist.
    “Kane,” Hank said.
    I let his shirt go and shook my head in disgust. “You’re going to talk. One way or the other.”
    I helped Hank escort him around the house and out to the car. We placed him in the