Sinner's Gin (Sinners, #1)

“Fair ’nough,” Donal grunted. “Yer case, then? Ye and that caterwauling partner of yers get any further on those killings?”


“You know about that runner we lost yesterday?” Kane leaned against the stone counter and watched his father dissect his muffin into quarters. His father grunted a yes and sucked a bit of spread off of his thumb. “I’m hoping we get a hit on the prints from the knife he dropped at the second scene. Right now, it’s all I’ve got. Bastard was fast, like he was running for his life.”

“Ye figure out his connection to yer Miki?”

“No, but that’s something else the print might help with.” Kane frowned. “We’ve tried running down all of the kids Vega and his wife fostered, but so far we’ve come up empty there too. The ones that survived Vega’s shit have gone to ground, but I’m thinking this guy’s one of them. He has to be.”

“Suppose he’s someone yer boy pissed off?” Donal asked as he chewed a bit of his muffin. “Maybe a fan or even one of his band’s family? Is there a money trail ye can follow?”

“Kel and I chased that down first. The only ones with a grudge against Miki are the Mitchells, but they’ve been in Montana for the past week. I’ve been in touch with Edie, the band’s manager, and she’s got nothing on her radar. No one’s sent threatening letters to the record company. The other two families don’t have a problem with Miki. Damien’s parents… the Mitchells… are pissed off about song rights, but they’ve been mostly attacking him in court.”

“Could they have hired someone?” Donal waved off his question as soon as he asked it. “Sorry. Ye’d have checked that first.”

“Yeah, they had money before Damien hit it big with Sinner’s Gin,” Kane replied. “I know there’s no such thing as too much money, but there hasn’t been a huge payout to anyone that hasn’t been there for the past couple of years. They’re taking care of some aunt in a nursing home, that’s the Montana place they go to visit every few weeks, and they pay the kind of bills rich people have. Hell, Dad, they pay more for their dog groomers in one month than I pay rent. They came out clean.”

“And there’s no note or anything to lead ye to a fan,” his father mused. “It’s hard to catch someone ye can’t get ahold of.”

“Nothing other than that one note,” Kane growled, frustrated. “Guy’s good at covering his tracks. And he doesn’t give a shit who he hurts. Beanie boy didn’t hesitate to stab that guy. He did it to slow us down.”

“Smart then, at least enough to know the basics.” The muffin was becoming crumbles in Donal’s hands as he thought.

“And he likes knives,” Kane said. “You should see the shit he’s done. Last night, when we found Vega? It was like he needed to see every bit of him laid out on that floor. We’re cross-checking the restaurant’s employee list once we find the owner. He could have worked there. He’s got the knife skills to have been in a kitchen.”

“Yer mother was right, then, in dragging that boy here,” Donal said. “He’ll be safer here. If your killer is one of Vega’s fosters, he might want to take out his frustrations on someone else who survived, now that those two are dead.”

It was prophetic, really, especially when Kane’s phone chirruped its salsa at him. He gave his father the same long-suffering look he used when one of his siblings called him, and answered the phone.

“What’s up, Kel?” Kane checked his watch. “We’re not on for another hour.”

“Yeah, fuck you, Morgan,” his partner spat. “I hope that rock star you’ve got in bed’s a good piece of ass, because you owe me a fucking new car.”

Sirens broke into Sanchez’s rant, and Kane could hear random shouting in the background, with someone screaming to “get the hoses on the houses close to the front.” Amid the chaotic crackle of noise, what Kel said to him finally sank into Kane’s brain.

“I’m going to forgive your shit because I love you like a brother, Sanchez,” Kane snarled back. “But you ever fucking talk about Miki like that again, you’re going to be chewing your food in your throat, ’cause that’s where your teeth’s going to be. Now, what the hell is going on?”

“That bastard… he hit my mom’s house, man.” Kel’s voice was lost in another onslaught of sirens. “I know it was that bastard. Looks like he dumped more of Vega’s body parts on the front porch. That is one sick son of a bitch.”

“Fucking hell. Is everyone okay?” Kane felt Donal step closer, and his hand settled on Kane’s shoulder, an anchoring weight to hold him down as Kane’s fears took flight. “Is your mom okay? The neighbors?”

“Yeah, we think so. Firemen got her dogs out, so that’s a blessing. We’re trying to keep the other houses from going up,” Kel shouted above the fracas. “I parked the Porsche in her garage. She had a doctor’s appointment this morning. She hates sitting that low in a car, so we drove hers.”

Rhys Ford's books