Killer Instinct

KILLER INSTICT A THOMAS SHEPHERD MYSTERY DAN PADAVONA GET A FREE BOOK! I’m a pretty nice guy once you look past the grisly images in my head. Most of all, I love connecting with awesome readers like you. Join my VIP Reader Group and get a FREE serial killer thriller for your Kindle. Get My Free Book www.danpadavona.com/thriller-readers-vip-group/ CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Get a FREE Book! Support Your Favorite Authors Acknowledgments About the Author 1 The clock told Officer Shawn Barrett that it was five minutes until quitting time. Trix was roasting a turkey with the kids and would have it on the table by six o’clock. The trouble was Barrett didn’t figure he’d get out on time. Across from his desk, a teenager dripping with gang tattoos slumped in a chair and chewed a fingernail. A filthy habit. “Tell me why I should believe you,” Barrett said, folding his arms over his chest. “Because if you don’t do something to stop them, the 315 Royals will have half the city on drugs by New Year’s. They’re planning something big, bro. Don’t know what it is exactly, but these won’t be smalltime ops.” “And you know this how?” “I have my sources,” the teenager said, looking away. “This is about the turf war. You want the Harmon PD to break up the Royals so the Kings can take over the city.” “It ain’t like that. The Kings don’t exist anymore. They haven’t since Rev went to prison and LeVar left.” LeVar Hopkins, the most notorious gangster the city streets had ever known, had become a sheriff’s deputy for the county. Barrett would love to hear the story of how that happened. Was it true LeVar had enrolled at the community college and committed to Kane Grove University’s criminal justice program? That sounded crazier than Red Sox fans cheering for the Yankees. “Still, you ran with the Kings for how long? Three, four years?” “Five,” the boy said, lifting his chin. Too many misled teenagers wore gang life as a badge of honor. “All right, five,” said Barrett. “That tells me you have loyalty to the Kings.” “How can I have loyalty to something that doesn’t exist?” “Then I’ll put it another way. The Kings are yesterday’s news, but the war against the Royals will never die. Admit it. This is about putting it to the Royals, not saving the community. You know how long I tried to make things right in Harmon? That ghetto you come from is nothing but drugs and people who make excuses for themselves. The Royals are the symptom, not the cause.” The kid leaned forward. “You don’t know about me or my community, cop. You ain’t got the right to speak on it. All my life, I been survivin’ without you. We all have. Now I come to you for help, and all you see is a gangster who ain’t worth the time.” Before Barrett could respond, the teenager stood and knocked his chair over. Chief Pauley rose, but Barrett held up a hand and set the chair upright. “Thanks for nothing,” the teenager said. “Not that I expected anything from the police.” After the former gangster left, Pauley emerged from his office. “Want to tell me what that was about?” the chief asked. Barrett sighed. “That was a kid from the Harmon Kings trying to convince me the 315 Royals are destroying the city.” “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. I thought the Kings dissolved.” “So did I, but the war will never end. He claims something big is about to happen in the drug trade, and the Royals are behind it.” “Do you believe him?” “I put nothing past the Royals,” Barrett said. “The prostitution ring took a hit after the sheriff’s department arrested Troy Dean for kidnapping that college girl.” “Cut off one head and another grows back.” “I’ll check with my informants and snoop around. If there’s anything to the story, I’ll find out.” “Let me know if we need to form a joint task force with Sheriff Shepherd.” “Will do.” Barrett grabbed his keys. “I need to fly. Trix made turkey for dinner.” “That’s a reason to speed on the way home, officer,” Chief Pauley said. “Nobody cooks like Trix.” “Come over this week. How’s Thursday? We’d love to have you join us.” “No can do Thursday, but I’ll take a rain check for next week.” “Perfect.” “All right.” Pauley slapped Barrett’s shoulder. “Drive safely. Thanksgiving is almost here, and traffic is insane.” Barrett waved to a fellow officer on the way out and drove home. As the chief had warned, traffic was bumper to bumper in the city. He didn’t even consider jumping on the interstate. Unbuttoning his collar, he counted the months until retirement. Forty-eight to go. He wondered how many years shift work had taken off his life. Wouldn’t it be ironic if he survived street patrols in gang territory and died because of inconsistent sleep patterns? The doctor kept warning him to take an early retirement or transfer into a nine-to-five position. Easier said than done. Those jobs attracted dozens of bids from officers who wanted to escape the grind. At the first opportunity, he turned off the thoroughfare and headed down a maze of side streets. During two decades working for the Harmon PD, he’d discovered the perfect alternate route when traffic clogged the