The Driver by Dustin Stevens

The Driver

The Driver by Dustin Stevens (A Reed & Billie Novel Book 8)
English | 2020 |Thriller & Suspense| ePUB | 3.0 MB

Dustin Stevens is the author of more than 40 novels, the vast majority having become #1 Amazon bestsellers, including the Reed & Billie and Hawk Tate series. The Boat Man, the first release in the best-selling Reed & Billie series, was named the 2016 Indie Award winner for E-Book fiction. The freestanding work The Debt was named an Independent Author Network action/adventure novel of the year for 2017.

“I know you and I have been through some things,” Reed whispered. “Some crazy, crazy stuff. But we have never – and will never – work a case as important as this one.”

Eighteen months ago, Detective Reed Mattox didn’t just lose his partner, the woman he met on his first day at the police academy and worked with for the entirety of his career thereafter. He lost his confidante. His sounding board. His support system. His best friend.

Victim to a senseless shooting during a routine traffic stop, the details of that night are still as elusive to Reed as they were more than a year before. Months of scouring every detail, poring through every resource, have revealed nothing, heightening the guilt he still carries for being more than two thousand miles away at the time.

When the phone rings late one evening, Reed hopes it is the brass within the Columbus Police Department calling to let him know he and his new K-9 partner Billie have been reinstated. That the administrative leave they were placed on in the wake of their last major case has been lifted, freeing them from the personal Hell they’ve been stuck in for the last couple of months.

What he hears instead is something much bigger, cleaving straight to his core, and perhaps finally allowing them to close a case nearly a year and a half in the making…

Orange sodium lights lined the West Broad Street bridge as it crossed the Scioto River. With the last glow of daylight just minutes past, the lamps left tangerine streaks across the top of the water. Tiger stripes interrupted by the backwash of a lone motorboat moving slowly south.

Fifteen feet above the water’s surface, a thin trickle of foot traffic flowed across the bridge. Government employees exhausted and weary, trudging home after another long day. Salary workers forced to stay over, regardless of the fact there would be no extra compensation in it for them.

Threaded among them, young people in spandex and sneakers bounded along. Ear buds jammed into the sides of their heads, they wove their way through, hoping to squeeze in a couple miles before dinner.

Everybody seemingly oblivious to everything but the few inches in front of their own face. All with somewhere to be and precious little time to get there.

A feeling Columbus Police Detective Reed Mattox understood all too well.

And no small part of what had made the last several weeks such hell.

Taking it all in from a picture window above, Reed stood in silence. Feet planted on the plush carpet of the Chief of Police’s office on the third floor of the CPD Headquarters, his hands were buried in the front pockets of his hooded sweatshirt. Lips pressed tight, he drew in deep breaths through his nose. He tried to place himself down on the street below, strolling along the banks of the Scioto, feeling the cooler air rising from the water.

A weak attempt to force his heart rate to slow.

Or, at the very least, to keep the inner turmoil he was feeling from showing.

On the floor by his side rested his K-9 partner Billie. A solid black Belgian Malinois, her weight was lowered to her rear haunches, the tips of her ears rising almost to Reed’s waist. Taking a cue from her partner, she was completely motionless, an obsidian statue staring straight ahead.

“Hell of a view, isn’t it?”

Shifting only his eyes, Reed moved his focus from the world below to the reflection on the glass before him. A moment later, the owner of the voice stepped into view, her arrival causing him to slowly turn.

“Sure is,” Reed replied. “Hard to believe this is less than two miles from the patch of turf we spend most nights covering.”

Across from him, Chief of Police Eleanor Brandt grunted softly. Stepping just past the threshold of the door, she turned and closed it behind her before replying, “Only a matter of time. This city has more money than it knows what to do with right now.”

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