It Started With a Heist

Chapter 14

JAKE

The SUV's tires screeched against the asphalt as I sped toward the Metropolitan Correctional Center. I had assured Declan he would be safe there, that Vitale wouldn't be able to touch him. Now that promise lay shattered, torn apart by the same shank that had pierced his heart.

I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles whitening as a fresh wave of anger surged through me.

Declan's face flickered in my mind like a broken projector, his hesitant trust and shaky voice as he sipped coffee during our last meeting. He had taken a leap of faith, putting his life in my hands. I had told him we would protect him.

I had lied.

Damn it all.

The prison's silhouette loomed against the dull gray skyline, its sharp lines cutting into the horizon like a grim monument. It should have stood for justice, a place of rehabilitation and order. Instead, it felt like a tombstone for failure—my failure.

I parked haphazardly, jumping out before the engine fully cut off. Warden Harris was already waiting near the entrance, his grim expression doing little to mask his unease.

"Agent Parker." He gave me a curt nod, hands clasped behind his back. "You should've spared yourself the trouble of coming all the way here. I was going to send you a full report of the incident anyway."

The incident. I shot him a steely glance, my frustration barely contained. "I told you to keep an eye on him, Warden. He was supposed to be in protective custody. Explain to me how the hell this happened."

Harris sighed, his composure cracking under my glare. "There was a fight—several inmates. It got out of control fast. Most of the COs were tied up trying to break it up, and during the chaos, someone got to Declan in the showers. He never had a chance."

"A fight?" My voice dropped, icy now. "What about the cameras?"

Harris winced, his lips pressing into a tight, grim line. "The inmates destroyed the cameras facing the shower room."

I dragged a hand through my hair, fighting the urge to unleash a string of curses. "This is a goddamn disaster," I muttered, my voice sharp with accusation. "We owed him more than this, Harris. We were supposed to keep him safe."

Harris looked like he wanted to argue, but a voice behind me cut him off.

"Parker."

I turned to see Agent Liam Hunt from the Violent Crimes Unit making his way toward us. He had just stepped out of the shower room, peeling off a pair of latex gloves.

I was relieved that Hunt was in charge of the investigation. This meant I wouldn't have to argue with another agent who would simply toss it aside and treat it like a cold case, even before looking into it. Prison leads were notoriously hard to chase—nobody talked, and everyone had something to hide—but if anyone could dig through the layers, it was Hunt.

"Hunt," I said, offering a handshake. "Glad you're here."

He shook my hand firmly. "As soon as I heard the victim was your CI, I made it a priority. Figured you'd want eyes on this."

"More than you know."

Hunt glanced over his shoulder toward the shower room. "At first glance, this looks like a typical prison altercation. But something tells me you think otherwise."

Leaning against the wall, I exhaled heavily. "You ever heard of Saverio Vitale?"

Hunt furrowed his brow, sorting through mental files. "Yeah. Person of interest in a case we worked a while back—mob hit. It got transferred to Organized Crime, but I remember there was chatter about Vitale pulling strings. Of course, one of his lackeys eventually confessed and claimed Vitale had nothing to do with it."