Knight, p.1
Knight, page 1
Knight
A Chess Club Mystery - Book Two
TK Eldridge
Graffridge Publishing
First published by Graffridge Publishing 2023
Copyright © 2023 by T.K. Eldridge
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
T.K. Eldridge asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
T.K. Eldridge has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.
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Cover by Lizzie Dunlap of PixieCovers.com
Editing by Donna A. Martz of MartzProofing.com
Contents
Dedication
Epigraph
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
20. Chapter 20
21. Chapter 21
22. Chapter 22
23. Chapter 23
24. Chapter 24
25. Chapter 25
26. Chapter 26
27. Chapter 27
28. Chapter 28
29. About the Author
For Donna, because none of this would exist without you.
When push comes to shove, you always know who to turn to. That being a family isn’t a social construct but an instinct. – Jodi Picoult, author
Chapter one
Milos Owens tossed the last report onto the pile and leaned back against the leather padding. The failure of the operation in Lakeridge still stung and the loss of so much product and money had cost him a couple of good operatives. There was no mercy when millions of credits worth of designer drugs ended up in the storage facilities of the Federal Bureau of Investigation and Security. He’d had no qualms about shoving the two men out of the heli half a mile above the Pisgah National Forest.
He did feel a little sorry for the crew he’d sent to find the bodies and bury them, but only because it had been his temper that had caused him to shove Nelson and Cragan out over the mountains instead of waiting for the lake where they wouldn’t have needed to be found and buried.
Milos’s gaze shifted to the windows that looked out across the Potomac to where the Washington Monument gleamed in the evening light. A tap on the door didn’t pull his gaze away from the view. “Come in.”
“Mr. Owens, a Mr. Samuels is here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment.” The voice of his assistant was calm and clear, but when he turned, he could see the flicker of fear in Amanda Michaels’ eyes.
“Send him in, Amanda, then you can leave for the evening,” he told her, then slowly got to his feet and went to the bar. He poured himself two fingers of an exquisite Macallan and took a sip as the door closed, then opened again.
“Are you going to offer me any?” Jonas Samuels asked as he entered the room. Mahogany paneling gleamed beneath original paintings and bordered glass shelves with awards, trophies, and framed photos of the man in front of him beside several world leaders. It was the view of the city beyond the one wall of glass that was the focal point of the room, however. A reminder that the man that sat behind the desk controlled much of what went on in that city.
And what he didn’t control, Samuels liked to think he did.
Jonas looked at Milos and had to appreciate the presentation. The man’s hair had gone silver from the blonde it had once been and his eyes were a crystalline blue in a pale face of angles and planes. A designer suit in soft gray gave Milos Owens a deceptively approachable look with the pale blue shirt, the collar opened. Jonas was a direct contrast to Milos in appearance. His dusky skin, dark eyes, and thick dark hair in tight curls at the top hid his age that was about ten years older than Milos’s fifty-six, but Jonas looked younger than his years and Milos looked older. They even wore the same designer, but Jonas opted for a black suit and gray shirt. He felt it made him look more intimidating.
“I could pour you a whiskey,” Milos said. “But I don’t think you’ll be staying long enough to enjoy it, Jonas.”
“The new facility in Lake County is not yet finished. That’s holding up production and needs to be addressed,” Jonas said as he settled onto a leather Chesterfield sofa. “The board has asked me to come speak to you and find out when production will be back up to Univy standards.”
Milos arched one silvered brow, then ran a hand through the thick silver curls he kept fashionably trimmed. “Univy’s standards are my standards, Jonas. With the FBIS interest in Lake County, circumspect behavior is more conducive to long term business goals than a speedy spin-up of production.” He leaned back against the desk and folded his arms, the glass of whiskey forgotten at the bar for the moment.
“The board -” Jonas started to say and Milos held up one hand, palm out.
“The board answers to me,” Milos said. “I can always go private again and eliminate the need for the board.”
“The board could easily expose the various less-than-legal enterprises Univy has in process, too. Mutually assured destruction,” Jonas said. “With the purchase of DESCO, people are watching Univy and looking to see if we front ourselves a private army. You know they always want to take down the biggest kid on the playground.”
“I’m well aware,” Milos said. “And I’m handling everything. The board is just there to look good and soak up profits. Tell them to take a breath and let me do what I do best.”
“And what is that?” Jonas asked.
Milos picked up his glass and gave Jonas a cold smile. “Run the world.”
Chapter two
Chasen Templeton Payne decided he needed to seriously reconsider some of his life choices. It was early morning, and he was in his truck as it sat in the parking lot behind the Lakeridge County sheriff’s office. It was a Monday, so he’d grabbed coffee for himself and a box of mixed pastries to bring into the office as a way to sweeten his arrival as the Fucking New Guy.
He’d not been the FNG in a long, long time – and he’d never been the FNG in his hometown. All of this conspired to make him wonder what in the actual hell he was doing with his life that had brought him to this particular set of circumstances.
Yes, logically, he knew he was here because when your chosen family asks you to come help, you show up. He didn’t really have anything holding him in Raleigh, and a change of venue had, at the time, looked like a brilliant solution to his issues.
Now? Now he wasn’t so sure.
“Just suck it up, Chase, and get your ass in gear,” he said to himself. “But first, a donut.” He picked out a jelly filled and took a bite, then washed the sugar down with a swallow of coffee. Of course, that’s the exact moment when Lieutenant Cassidy Redbird walked in front of his truck, stopped, then turned to stare at him through the windshield.
He pictured what she saw – a big black man with a shaved head, trimmed moustache and goatee now covered with powdered sugar. His suitcoat and collared shirt gave him a professional appearance – if you discounted the sugar dusting.
What he saw? A gorgeous woman with legs for miles, dressed in slacks, low-heeled boots, and a jacket that nipped in at the waist and flared over her hips. She had tawny skin, wide dark eyes, and silky black hair cut to chin length that slid across her jawline when she tipped her head. Then she smiled and Chase’s heart stuttered. Sure, he’d seen a picture of the woman, but in person? Her charisma and sense of presence knocked the wind out of him.
Cassidy arched one slender brow, then gave a soft laugh and approached his driver side door. A tap on the window and he lowered it with the hand he’d been using to brush the sugar off of himself. She hoped he didn’t expect her to shake hands now.
“Lieutenant Redbird,” Chase said as the window sank out of the way. Damn, now he could smell the faintest hint of some light fragrance as the breeze fluttered the ends of her hair.
“Detective Payne, correct?” Cassidy replied.
“That’s correct,” Chase replied. “I was just fortifying myself before I came inside. Want a donut?”
“Sure,” Cassidy said and when Chase held out the box, she picked a Boston Cream and wrapped it in a napkin. “The minute tho se hit the break room table, they’ll be gone. Appreciate you letting me grab one first. I’ll see you inside?”
“Soon as I wipe the sugar off of myself,” Chase grinned. “I’ll put the box in the break room and stop in at Personnel, then come by your office.”
“I’m not your boss, Detective,” Cassidy reminded him. “Not yet, anyway.”
“And I’m not your boss, Lieutenant,” Chase said with a smile. “Not yet, anyway.”
“May the best candidate win,” Cassidy said with a wink, then turned away to head inside.
Chase made no secret of the fact he watched her hips sway as she crossed the small lot. He then finished up his donut, brushed off the fresh dusting of sugar, and grabbed his gear to follow her. The challenge in Cassidy’s eyes had fired him up. He would be the Chief – or he’d be the Assistant Chief. Either way, he would be in a better situation than he’d been in Raleigh.
His day was already looking up.
Cassidy put down her coffee and the donut on her desk, then stowed her things and sat in her chair. Her fingerprint opened up her computer and sent the clear plate of screen to rise up from the slot in the desk so it hovered at eye level. The system scrolled her daily feed and schedule across the surface while she checked the location of the team of cops that worked for the town of Lakeridge, North Carolina.
The previous chief had been arrested, as had his son, the assistant chief – and now with the Halsteads out of the way, those two seats were open. She knew the chances of her making chief were slim, but she was going to give it her best shot because she knew she was one of the top choices. She would’ve said the top choice – before Chase Payne came back to town. The file she’d put together on him was impressive, but there were questions and a couple of gaps that were, she’d been told, due to his working cases that had been kept under wraps.
It wasn’t Cassidy’s style to try and play those gaps into negative angles she could use to push him out of contention, but after working under the Halsteads for a few years, the idea of using every tool available had been her first thought. Then she took a breath and decided if she wanted a department that wasn’t an echo of the twisted, criminal behavior that it had suffered under Chief Bernstrom Halstead Sr. and his son, Assistant Chief Byron Halstead, then it was time to try and think more like a good cop and less like a cop in survival mode.
A tap at her door brought her gaze up from the screen to meet the smile of Sergeant Ellery Adler. “Come on in, Adler. What can I do for you this morning?”
“Morning, LT. I grabbed a couple of donuts from the box Detective Payne brought in and thought you might want one,” Elle said as she held out a blueberry filled pastry. Elle’s long dark hair was braided up and twisted into a knot at the back of her neck – exactly how Cassidy had worn hers until a couple of years ago when she’d cut it all off. Ellery’s tan-hued skin, high cheekbones, and slender nose spoke of their shared Cherokee ancestry, while Cassidy’s eyes were nearly black and Elle’s eyes were the gray of Irish storm clouds. Strangers had mistaken them for sisters, but it was more likely they picked up on the way they both moved like cops.
Cassidy chuckled and picked up the Boston Cream that sat on the napkin on her desk. “I caught one in the parking lot, but thanks for thinking of me.”
Elle dropped into a chair at the corner of Cassidy’s desk and sighed. “We can split it? Because if I try and take it back there, it’ll be like throwing raw meat into a tank of piranha. And if I don’t split it with you, I’ll eat it all myself and that’d be bad.”
Cassidy chuckled and caught Elle’s wink. “Sure, we can split it. Then I won’t feel guilty either.” She took a sip of her coffee, then did something she’d sworn she’d not do this morning. “Tell me about Chase Payne.” Knowing that Elle lived next door to the man, she hoped she could gain some insight on him.
“What do you want to know?” Elle asked around a mouthful of donut. “He’s one of the Chess Club crew. Chase, along with my Grant – as well as Zach Hawthorne, Logan McMann, Mykal Cutler, and the late Wes Davenport all bonded in high school as members of the chess club. They’re as much family to each other as if they shared blood.”
Cassidy gave a wink. “Your Grant?” she teased, then she shook her head and sent the silky strands of hair bouncing. “Huh. I didn’t know that they’d all met in the chess club. I knew they’d been friends from high school, from reading the files on the Davenport murder,” Cassidy replied.
“Did you see the file on Alexander Layton’s murder from nearly sixteen years ago?” Elle asked. “He was the teacher that ran the club. When he was murdered, they all scattered. All except Wes Davenport.”
“And Payne ended up in the Triangle and distinguished himself as a good cop with solid instincts and then as one of the state’s top homicide detectives,” Cassidy said. “Now he’s here. Why?”
Elle paused mid-chew, then washed the bite down with coffee. “Because of Wes’s murder being unsolved and his need to be home.” She knew damned well that wasn’t the whole reason, but that was all she was willing – or able – to share.
“I guess that’s a good reason,” Cassidy said. “Just feels like there should be more.”
Elle gave a shrug. “Well, you came home to take care of your pops and left a promising career in Nashville. Sometimes, home is just where you need to be.”
“Good point,” Cassidy replied. “Okay, Sergeant. Take your half of the donut and get to work. We all have a stack of files to get through before we can be sure the Halsteads didn’t leave us any nasty surprises.”
“On it, LT,” Elle said as she handed over half of the blueberry filled donut and headed out of the office.
Cassidy took a bite of the pastry and stared at her screen. It was going to take a while to get through the mess the Halsteads had left behind. Months – maybe years. Cassidy settled in to dig.
Chapter three
Wes sat on the roof of Myke’s place and watched Grant, Chase, Myke, and Elle kick the soccer ball back and forth, aiming for the makeshift goals Chase had set up in the road. The light was fading, but the glow from the road lights gave them enough illumination to play a little bit longer.
Laughter and the soft grunts of bodies colliding made Wes miss his physical body more than he had in a long time. Long being relative since he’d only been dead a few months. Being a ghost meant he couldn’t appreciate the rich scents of pine from the forest and the fragrance of the flowers planted around the small homes. Each one had been created exactly the same, then modified to fit the individual living there.
Myke’s place was the first on the left when you came over the bridge from Red’s parking area, then Ellery’s place next to Myke, and Chase on the other side of Elle. Across the road from Chase would be Logan’s place and then Zach’s up behind his. Grant had moved in with Ellery while they worked on getting their home built on some Adler family land he’d purchased for that purpose.
It made him happy to see his friends together once more. It’d be better if Zach and Logan were there, too, but he’d heard they were coming back as soon as they’d wrapped up a few things. Did it bother him that they were only back because he’d been murdered? Maybe a little.
Honestly, he was just glad they were back – and that it was turning out to be a positive thing for all of them so far. Now if they could just figure out who had killed him.
He was pretty sure he knew the why. That Master Key he’d been working on would shift global power the minute it went live. He felt a bit guilty for creating it, if he were being honest with himself. The risks were enormous – but the benefits were enormous, too. Sure, the Key could’ve caused chaos – but in a time of crisis, it would’ve saved lives. It would’ve allowed a shuttle to be taken over remotely and landed if the pilot was unable to fly, or increased the water filtration processes for a city or town if a toxin spilled into a stream. It would also have allowed someone to shut down the filtration for a city from an off-planet location, or crash a shuttle across the world. Location didn’t matter, as long as it was connected to the network.
