The Blind Trust (The 509 Crime Stories Book 3) by Colin Conway

Author:Colin Conway [Conway, Colin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Original Ink Press
Published: 2019-10-17T22:00:00+00:00

***

The little blue house stood at the dead-end of West Fourteenth Avenue and backed up against Polly Judd Park. They stopped a block away and walked in.

Morgan never considered calling dispatch to let them know where he and Senai were. The omission violated policy, and it violated officer safety norms, but he didn’t care. It was the attitude of CTF—take care of business. If they needed help, they’d call for it. Until then, policy was a concept designed to keep them under the department’s thumb, and none of the CTF team members liked the idea of that. Even though Senai was new to the team, she was catching on quickly and didn’t point out that he should have notified radio.

“No cars in the driveway,” Senai said as they approached.

“You see a garage?” Morgan asked.

“No.”

They continued walking, both scanning the neighboring houses. The mid-spring sun was directly overhead as they approached. The neighborhood was quiet, most of its inhabitants, hopefully at work due to the time of day. A small dog barked from inside a house nearby.

“Take the front,” Morgan said as he hurried to the back, drawing his gun as he went. The yard was yellow and mushy, a victim of the wet spring. As he approached the backdoor, he heard Senai banging at the front.

He listened for movement but didn’t hear any. When Senai’s knocking stopped, he continued listening. There was still no movement.

The detective glanced toward the neighboring houses to ensure no one could see him. He looked over his shoulder and could see the park from the rear of the house, but no one was there now.

He turned back to the door and tried the knob. It wouldn’t turn. It was an older Kwikset lock.

Lucky, he thought.

Morgan holstered his gun then pulled out a small leather bag from inside his jacket. He dropped to a knee and unzipped it. After removing a metal ball rake and a tension strip, he set the bag down. He inserted the strip and applied some pressure before inserting the ball rake into the lock to manipulate the pins inside carefully.

Morgan had learned how to pick locks from an actual burglar after he busted the thief for possession of stolen automatic weapons. The burglar wasn’t the intended target of the investigation, only a peripheral player who was coerced into a crime of which he didn’t know the full extent. Morgan realized this and offered to toss him back into the wild in exchange for lessons. The burglar jumped at the opportunity, not realizing he was giving the detective a type of skill most cops would never have nor dream of using.

When the lock eventually released, Morgan quietly turned the knob and pushed the door open. He put the tools back in his pocket.

“Morgan,” Senai whispered as she approached from the side of the house.

He stood and drew his weapon. He looked around the corner and caught her eye. “The back door was open,” he said.

“Does it look forced?”

“No,” Morgan said. “It was just open.

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