The Frenzy War Read Online Free Page B

pension. He daydreamed about that possibility every shift while gazing out his office window.
    His cell phone rang, and he checked its display. Willy Diega, one of his former detectives. Pressing the phone against his ear, he settled back in his chair and stared at a framed photo of himself with Cheryl and Patty, taken on Patty’s first birthday. “Lieutenant Diega, good to hear from you.”
    â€œI’m calling from Synful Reading.”
    Mace’s fingers tightened on the phone. “What’s happening there?”
    â€œI caught a DOA related to a likely kidnapping. A teenage boy got decapitated inside the store.”
    A fear Mace thought he had forgotten resurfaced. “Is his head—?”
    â€œPresent and accounted for. But get this: it was cut off. Looks like one blow did it. My guess is the perp used a sword.”
    The base of Mace’s skull turned numb.
The Blade of Salvation.
Almost a year earlier, Willy had told him that both halves of the broken sword had been claimed by some big shot at the Vatican. Closing his eyes, Mace rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had hoped the Wolves would be able to maintain the secret of their existence. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”
    â€œYeah, and maybe—ah, shit.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    â€œI gotta go. Your wife just showed up.”

    Pocketing his phone, Willy watched the Manhattan Minute News van prowl the street, its driver searching for a parking space.
    At least they’ll have to go around the block,
he thought as he joined Karol and the witnesses.
    â€œThis is my partner, Detective Diega,” Karol said to the woman and two men.
    â€œHello,” Willy said to them. “Do we have all their information?”
    â€œYes,” Karol said.
    â€œFolks, we’re going to release you now. We’ll probably need to follow up with you later, maybe even tonight. Don’t discuss what you’ve seen with anyone, especially the press.”
    â€œThey’re not going anywhere just yet,” a male voice said behind him.
    Turning, Willy saw Detectives Larry Soares and Nick Cato from Missing Persons. The detectives now outnumbered the witnesses.
    â€œWe co-own this mess,” Soares said.
    â€œThat’s fine with me. You guys can have the whole bag of shit if you want it. Can we move this conference inside?”
    â€œWe’d like to interview these witnesses.”
    â€œWe’ll share the information we have. Let’s get them out of here before they describe what they saw to everyone with a TV.” Willy turned to the witnesses. “Thank you for your assistance.”
    They nodded and left.
    â€œThe woman saw four adults—three men and a woman— drag a teenage girl into a van,” Karol said. “The woman was Asian. One of the men was black. With the driver, that makes five.”
    Willy saw Cheryl Mace speed walking toward them on the sidewalk, followed by her cameraman, Ryan Costas. “Karol, show them what we’ve got, okay?”
    â€œYou’re the boss.” Karol led Soares and Cato into the store.
    Willy met Cheryl at the crime scene tape. She had been a TV reporter when Willy was first promoted to Homicide, then took a more humane job as an associate producer for an afternoon talk show before she and Mace announced her pregnancy. After her maternity leave, she had returned to active reporting, this time for Manhattan Minute News, a local cable station. She had wasted no time making a name for herself as an aggressive reporter who played by the rules.
    â€œWhat have you got for me, Willy?”
    â€œA DOA and a probable kidnapping.”
    Ryan caught up to them, his forehead sweaty.
    â€œDOA,” Cheryl said. “You mean a homicide.”
    â€œI’m a homicide detective.”
    She seemed amused by his sarcasm. “Method of murder?”
    â€œThat’s under investigation.”
    â€œWho’s the