Page 38 of Kai's Hunger

“Yeah, I know the place,” he groaned.

Fifteen minutes later, we were approaching the edge of town. I saw large buildings up ahead, but Kai slowed, then made a right before we could reach the town limits. Another mile and I saw police lights. Three squad cars and a few other vehicles were all parked in front of a three-story building. I reached for him and offered a smile. “Deep breaths,” I murmured.

He gave me a jerky nod, then pulled into a spot next to a big, black four-wheel-drive truck. “Wyatt’s,” he explained, as he killed the engine. “Wait here.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am. I don’t want you anywhere near this place, Lily. Please, wait here.”

I nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He shoved open the door, then slammed it closed. I watched on as Kai jogged toward the building. I sighed, feeling helpless. There had to be something I could do. Anything. I clasped my hands together, then hung my head and prayed.Hopefully God is in a listening mood.

****

Kai

I approached a group of police officers, most of whom I recognized. When everyone turned my way, one of them closed the distance between us and held up both hands. “It’s messy, Kai.”

“Let me through, Brandon,” I bit out.

He sighed. “Just ... brace yourself.”

I shoved past him, then saw Wyatt standing next to the dumpster. To his right was the body of a man sprawled out on the blacktop. Jeans, old black work boots, and a grey, short-sleeved t-shirt. The face unrecognizable. Blood and pieces of skull and brain scattered around. “Jesus,” I muttered, my stomach churning at the sight.

“No ID, no wallet. Nothing.”

Wyatt turned toward me, his lips thinning in an angry line. “It’s not him.”

I moved closer, then gave the body another inspection. I noticed the left arm. “No scar,” I said, relief swamped me.

“Yeah, but there was a note,” Wyatt replied, nudging his chin toward Brandon. “Show him.”

Brandon pulled a plastic bag from his shirt pocket, then held it in the air. “It was pinned to his chest.”

“You’ll never find him,” I read aloud. “What the hell?”

“He’s taunting us,” Wyatt shot back. “Bastard killed this guy just to prove a fucking point.”

Brandon shoved the note away and cleared his throat. “I need to know who you think did this.”

The pair stared at each other. Wyatt didn’t say a word. Brandon shook his head. “You can’t go off on your own here.” He pointed to the dead man lying on the ground. “This is a murder investigation. If you have information that could aid us, then you’re obligated to tell us.”

“You want the truth?” Wyat yelled, getting in Brandon’s face. “Gregory Patterson did this!”

“That weird little fella from Cedar Haven?”

“Yes. He’s your murderer,” Wyatt ground out. “And you’d better find him before I do.”

Wyatt turned and walked away, leaving Brandon to shake his head in frustration.

I tried to smooth things over. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Good, because I don’t want to arrest him for some vigilante bullshit. I truly don’t.”

I didn’t say anything else. What could I say? I agreed with Wyatt. One way or the other, Patterson would be found. I hoped it would be before the son of a bitch killed our father.

When I caught up to Wyatt, I asked, “What is the point Patterson is trying to make with all this?” Rage threatened to consume me. “That he’s a fucking psycho?”

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