Chapter 5 - MILO’S LAST JOBMilo woke inside darkness.
The old dog whimpered once.
His paws slid against metal.
A van.
He could smell gasoline, wet rope, strange men.
And Warren Dixon.
Warren sat on a bench opposite the cage, knees bouncing.
“This is insane,” he muttered.
The man beside him wore a Silver Blade patch.
“You wanted protection.”
“Not from her dog. From her.”
“Then shut up.”
Warren looked at Milo.
“This stupid thing started all of this.”
The dog stared back.
Warren kicked the cage.
Milo flinched.
“Stop,” the Silver Blade man said.
“What?”
“Boss wants the dog alive.”
Warren frowned.
“Why?”
No answer.
At number 42, Kayla entered through a broken front door.
Police had emptied drawers and overturned furniture.
Her kitchen floor was covered in flour, shattered plates, and documents.
She did not care.
“Milo?”
Wilton looked sick.
“He was in the backyard with Nate. Someone triggered a gas leak alarm at the rear. Nate went to check it. Two men came through the side gate.”
“Nate?”
“Concussion. Alive.”
“And cameras?”
“Jammed.”
Kayla closed her eyes.
“How long?”
“Twenty-eight minutes.”
Leo said, “We have city traffic cameras.”
“Start.”
Cal remained near the doorway like a man waiting for execution.
Kayla turned to him.
“Tell me everything you know about Gideon Shaw.”
Cal rubbed his face.
“He founded Silver Blade thirty years ago. But the public story says he died in 2018.”
“How?”
“Cancer.”
“Body?”
“Closed casket.”
Kayla laughed once.
Of course.
“Who runs things now?”
“Officially, regional captains.”
“Unofficially?”
Cal looked toward the windows.
“Shaw.”
“Where?”
“Nobody knows.”
“Someone knows.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Cal hesitated.
Kayla stepped closer.
He spoke.
“Detective Pike.”
Leo cursed.
Cal continued.
“Pike keeps law enforcement off our businesses. Shaw handles bigger stuff.”
“What bigger stuff?”
“Real estate. City contracts. Redevelopment.”
Kayla remembered the Ashgrove ledger.
“They’re clearing neighborhoods.”
Cal nodded.
“Buy cheap, scare people out, condemn the remaining houses, sell whole blocks to developers.”
“And Ashgrove?”
“One of the last holdouts.”
“Why number 42?”
Cal stared at her.
“I think Shaw has been waiting for you to come back.”
That landed like ice.
“Why?”
“Richard hid something.”
“The files?”
“Maybe more.”
Wilton called from the basement.
“Got the van.”
Everyone moved.
On three monitors, traffic footage showed a white commercial van leaving Ashgrove Street.
No rear plate.
But a logo on the side.
PALMER PET CREMATION.
Kayla stared.
Wilton typed.
“Business closed six years ago. Property still owned by a holding company called River Crown LLC.”
Kayla looked at Cal.
He nodded.
“Silver Blade.”
Address: industrial road near the river.
Kayla grabbed her coat.
Leo blocked her.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“They expect you.”
“They have Milo.”
“Exactly.”
Wilton said, “We can track separately.”
Kayla’s voice became cold.
“That dog stayed beside Richard’s grave for six hours because I could not make myself leave. He slept outside my bedroom for months when I stopped eating. He dragged me out of the house the night I had Richard’s pistol in my hand.”
Nobody moved.
Kayla looked at Leo.
“I am going.”
He stepped aside.
The cremation facility stood behind an auto scrapyard.
One entrance.
Two loading bays.
Thermal drone showed seven people inside.
And one animal-sized heat signature.
Milo.
Kayla touched the screen.
“Where?”
“Lower room.”
Cal pointed.
“Old incinerator section.”
Kayla’s face hardened.
They entered from the roof.
No gunfire.
Kayla had forbidden it unless absolutely necessary.
Two guards went down silently.
Leo handled one.
Cal handled another.
Kayla reached the stairwell.
At the bottom, Warren stood beside Milo’s cage.
A pistol trembled in his hand.
“You!”
Kayla stopped.
Milo barked.
The sound cracked her composure.
“Milo.”
Warren pressed the gun toward the cage.
“Don’t come closer.”
Kayla raised her hands.
“Okay.”
“You ruined my life.”
“You cut my dog.”
“You made me look stupid.”
“You did that yourself.”
Warren’s finger tightened.
Cal whispered from the stairwell, “Warren, don’t.”
“Shut up!”
Warren pointed at Kayla.
“You think you’re better than us?”
“No.”
“You think because your dead husband was some big hero—”
A speaker crackled overhead.
Then a man’s voice filled the room.
Older.
Controlled.
“Enough.”
Everyone froze.
Kayla recognized nothing about the voice.
But Cal went pale.
“Mr. Shaw.”
The speaker hissed.
“Kayla Vale.”
Kayla stared at the ceiling camera.
“Gideon.”
“I wondered what Richard saw in you.”
“Come downstairs.”
A soft laugh.
“You haven’t changed.”
“You’ve never met me.”
“Oh, but I’ve watched you for years.”
The words sickened her.
“Why take Milo?”
“Because Richard loved puzzles.”
The cage door buzzed open.
Milo hesitated.
Kayla rushed forward.
The old dog limped into her arms.
Warren lowered the gun, confused.
Kayla checked Milo quickly.
No obvious wounds.
“Why?”
Shaw answered through the speaker.
“Look at his collar.”
Kayla did.
Richard’s tag was still there.
But someone had added a second small piece of metal.
A key.
“Richard put something in my possession ten years ago,” Shaw said. “Something I could never open.”
Kayla held the new key.
“And you think I can?”
“I know you can.”
“Why give it to me?”
“Because Detective Pike is planning to kill us both.”
Across town, Pike sat in an unmarked car listening to the same audio through a hidden feed.
His expression hardened.
Shaw continued.
“Your husband discovered Pike was working for both sides. Then Pike decided both sides were liabilities.”
Kayla looked at Cal.
He seemed equally shocked.
“Where is the box?”
Shaw said, “You’ll find instructions inside Milo’s collar.”
Kayla checked the leather.
A seam had been reopened.
Inside was a rolled piece of paper.
Coordinates.
“Come alone,” Shaw said.
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you’ll never learn how Richard really died.”
The speaker clicked off.
Immediately, Leo’s voice came through Kayla’s earpiece.
“Movement outside.”
Then gunfire shattered the front windows.
Warren screamed.
Cal dropped behind a steel table.
Kayla covered Milo with her body.
Leo shouted from upstairs.
“Police tactical team!”
Cal stared.
“Pike.”
Smoke grenades rolled into the room.
Kayla understood.
Pike had followed them.
He was not coming to arrest anyone.
He was coming to erase everyone.
Warren panicked and ran toward the rear hallway.
A gunshot cracked.
He fell.
“Dad!” Tyler’s voice screamed from somewhere beyond the smoke.
Kayla froze.
Tyler was here.
The fourteen-year-old emerged through a side door, staring at his father bleeding on the floor.
He ran toward Warren.
Another shot.
Kayla lunged.
She tackled Tyler behind the furnace.
A bullet struck metal where his head had been.
The boy stared at her.
“You saved me.”
Kayla pressed him down.
“Stay here.”
“My dad—”
“Stay.”
Milo growled beside her.
Through smoke, Detective Pike’s voice echoed.
“Kayla! Put down your weapon!”
Kayla had no weapon.
That was the point.
He wanted witnesses to hear the command before he killed her.
She looked at Tyler.
“Do you still have your phone?”
He nodded.
“Start a livestream.”
“What?”
“Do it.”
Tyler’s hands shook as he opened the app.
Kayla stood.
Pike appeared through the smoke with a pistol raised.
“Don’t move!”
Kayla raised her empty hands.
Tyler’s livestream began.
Thousands of followers received the alert.
Kayla said loudly, “Detective Pike, I am unarmed.”
Pike stopped.
He saw the phone.
His expression changed.
The entire situation changed with it.
May you like
Kayla smiled without warmth.
“Smile, Detective.”
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