Renegade (2013) Read Online Free Page A

had a small, crooked scar across his chin that looked like something left over from a childhood accident.
    “I see some ID?” Pike sipped his coffee and waited till the two detectives dug out their shields and IDs. They displayed them in quick flicks. Both sets looked legitimate. “What can I do for you?”
    “We’ve got a few questions. Is there somewhere we can go?”
    Pike met the man’s gaze. “Here is fine.”
    Horner frowned a little at that, obviously not happy. Pike suspected the man was more unhappy over not being able to immediately seize control of the interview.
    “All right. Can you tell us where you were last night?”
    “My apartment.”
    “Is there someone who can verify that?”
    “I was alone. I usually am. Except during those times that I’m not.”
    Horner smiled good-naturedly, like he was embarrassed and needed some help to make everything all right. “Well, that’s a problem.”
    “Is it?” Pike blew on his coffee and took a sip.
    “You don’t have anyone who can corroborate your story.”
    “Does my story need corroboration?”
    “We’d like to know where you were last night.”
    “I just told you.”
    Horner shrugged. “We’d like more proof than that.”
    “Why?”
    Horner looked irritated and scratched the underside of his chin. “Peace of mind.”
    “Whose peace of mind?”
    “Mine.”
    Pike grinned a little at that. “Didn’t know you cared.”
    Some of Horner’s good-natured attitude evaporated and he shifted, squaring up his shoulders and standing taller. “Maybe it would be better if we had this conversation downtown.”
    “Are you arresting me for something?”
    Horner was quiet for a moment. “No.”
    “Then that question was an invitation I’m declining. I’m not going downtown with you, and we’re done here. I’ve got people waiting to get their cars back.” Pike stepped past the man.
    Detective Winkle bristled and took a step toward Pike. Pike ignored the man, knowing his partner was calling the shots. Horner lifted a hand and waved the younger detective to heel. Winkle grimaced, but he stepped back.
    Pike thought about pointing out how well trained the younger detective was, but he made himself pass on that. He had no reason to bait the police, even though his rebellious nature made him want to. He placed his coffee on the rear of the ancient station wagon.
    At the front of the vehicle under the raised hood, Monty watched what was going on with a disapproving frown. He was a short man with broad shoulders and swarthy skin that broadcast his Hispanic heritage. He was fit and powerful, perhaps ten pounds over his best weight because his wife cooked well and Monty kept beer on ice in a cooler at the shop for after hours. He wore dark-blue shop pants, a lighter-blue uniform blouse with his name sewn on in red thread above the right pocket, and an OSU Cowboys ball cap. A gunslinger mustache framed his upper lip.
    Horner wasn’t quite ready to walk away. “Do you know about the crack house that got burned down last night?”
    “Sure.” Pike tapped the newspaper he’d laid beside his coffee. “It’s in the news.”
    The story was on the front page.
    “What do you know about it?”
    “Just what’s in the paper.” Pike walked over to an upright toolbox, pulled out his keys, and opened it up to take out a tool belt. He laid the belt across his shoulder.
    “Nothing else?”
    “Anything else you think I should know?”
    “Officers arrested a couple gangbangers last night who gave a description of a guy that looks a lot like you.”
    “Lots of guys look like me.”
    “I don’t think so. Officers who work this beat have heard some rumors about you. Said you’d got in a couple scrapes, but they’ve never had a real beef with you. They also said there was another altercation involving a group of crack dealers a few months ago. They were beaten up pretty badly and got told to leave the neighborhood. I find that interesting.”
    Pike looked at the