Powers by Brian Michael Bendis Read Free Book Online

Gora—would have to dig into secrets to solve this case. Most importantly, though, he’d need to offer full transparency to support his partner—and possibly protect her from the sordid past.

 
    4
    November. Twelve years ago.
    Thursday afternoon. 4:05 P.M.
    Leaves fell, lining the street with a multicolored blanket of crimson and gold. A chill had come over the last few days, settling across Atlanta like an unwelcome guest. It caressed each window with a layer of frost. North of the city, where elegant homes kissed woodland, a phalanx of automobiles converged on an understated Tudor situated in well-to-do Tuxedo Park. Wheels crackling through leafy carpets, they arranged themselves in a horseshoe around a well-manicured circular drive. Guests emerged in weather wear—smart jackets and coats, leather gloves, and expensive scarves. They greeted one another and angled toward the door, drawn by smells wafting from inside the Pilgrim home.
    Ablaze in light and sound, the Pilgrim household had been carefully arranged for a night of football and fun. Salty treats perched on available end tables, and televisions presented the day’s games from every conceivable angle. Guests lingered in the kitchen, milling about the granite island on which platters had been laid containing meats and cheeses, paired alongside bottles of reds, whites, and ambers. The man of the house laughed uproariously in the family room, handing out cigars from the comfort of a leather recliner. Detective Waldo Pilgrim wore a Falcons jersey over faded jeans, a counterpoint to the tastefully attired guests dressed in designer sweaters, sport coats, or dress shirts. Deena regretfully skirted the circle of men and the Packers-Lions game—she’d been a card-carrying member of Falcons Nation for years, and any other day, she’d trade dirty jokes and cadge beer from her dad’s cronies. Today, however, she had a mission.
    Today, Deena Pilgrim was on point.
    Breezing past a throng of babbling Atlanta cougars, Deena veered to the right and headed toward the door. Her journey to the foyer had taken her past recognizable faces—several of which had covered national magazines. Her father, whom she idolized, had risen through the ranks of Atlanta’s Powers Homicide Division, on a first-name basis with the deputy mayor and several notable masked heroes. Most days, Deena found herself in awe of Waldo. He’d engendered a sphere of influence—most of tonight’s guests having arrived in luxury automobiles; other having swooped from above, carried in on brisk, Atlanta winds. She wanted for little, Waldo providing more than his share on a detective’s salary. They had clothes, toys, vacations, and a gardener. Her mother barely lifted a finger, relinquishing control of the housework and cooking to a team of dedicated Cubans.
    More than that, though, Deena admired what her father did for a living. The toys were nice, but the detective work—being a cop, righting wrongs—that appealed to her on an entirely different level. She asked questions, begged Dad to recount the day’s events and tell her his war stories. She soaked it all in, as much as she could, and hoped one day to follow in his footsteps. As much as she’d wanted anything before today, Deena Pilgrim wanted to be a cop.
    Why, then, Deena wondered, did Mom act like she hated it? Why did she have to be a bitch all the time? Maybe it’s a cop’s wife thing. Once I bag Aaron, you won’t catch me acting that way. No chance in hell. But then, hopefully, we’ll be in the trenches together. Working side-by-side.
    She loitered in the foyer, glancing out at the pebbled driveway. Anxious, she grabbed a jacket and hurried down the porch. She fished a pair of earbuds out of her pocket and cycled through a playlist, listening to music as she waited for Aaron’s arrival. She knew he was coming—she’d checked to make sure. But,