Read Grimm: The Chopping Block for Free Online Page B

kicked it to the base of the stairs.
    “Wu,” Nick said. “You okay?”
    Wu nodded as he climbed to his feet, but winced as he pressed a hand to his sore ribs.
    “Nothing broken,” he said. “If I’m lucky.”
    “I’ll cover him,” Nick said. “You cuff him.”
    Reluctantly, Wu holstered his sidearm. He popped open a flap on his belt and tugged out his handcuffs.
    Nick backed away while keeping his gun trained on the suspect’s head, positioning himself with a clear line of fire if the Mordstier tried anything.
    “What’s your name?”
    “None of your damned—!”
    “Name!” Nick barked, stepping forward menacingly. “Shame I had to shoot your kneecap while you resisted arrest.”
    “Guerra,” the Wesen rasped, as if giving up the information pained him. “Carlos Guerra.”
    “Rise, Carlos,” Nick said. “Slowly.”
    Guerra climbed to his feet, stumbling a bit as one boot split a cracked floorboard in half.
    Wu jumped back, reaching for his gun again.
    “Relax!” Guerra said. “Rotten floor’s falling apart.”
    “Some place you got here,” Wu said. “Supermarket Dumpster all out of cardboard boxes?”
    “I don’t bother nobody,” Guerra said. “You got no business here.”
    “Yeah, well, this could have gone a whole lot easier,” Nick said, unwavering in his stance. The situation was definitely not contained. “Hands behind your neck.”
    As soon as Guerra complied, Wu slapped a cuff over one wrist, then cuffed the other one.
    Hank navigated his way through the front door on his crutches, mindful of the debris from the collapsed porch roof.
    “Everything under control?” he asked.
    Wu called McCormack in with his shoulder mic. Harris was still out of commission, probably concussed.
    “Check upstairs,” Nick told the uniform.
    “I live alone,” Guerra said.
    “Don’t hold it against us,” Wu said, “if we don’t take your word for it.”
    Hank crossed the room, giving the damaged floor a wide berth, and peered through the shattered wall.
    “Trapdoor,” he said, looking back at Nick.
    “Of course,” Nick said. “Hidden under the damn throw rug.”
    McCormack came through the kitchen, eyes wide as he looked around.
    “Raw meat and blood on the table out there.”
    “I hunt,” Guerra said. “To eat.”
    McCormack pulled out his automatic and ascended the stairs.
    “Open up here,” he called. “Like a loft.”
    A short while later, he called down, “Clear.”
    Wu checked the antler room and, through the damaged wall, Nick saw him descend a ladder into the underground room where Guerra had hidden. McCormack came down the stairs. A moment later, Wu joined them.
    “Root cellar down there,” he said. “Salted meats, mason jars, pelts and bones. Plus a couple shotguns, hunting knives and lots of bloodstains.”
    “Sorry,” Guerra grumbled. “No maid service this week.”
    “Real talkative now,” Nick commented to Hank. Gun still trained on Guerra’s back, Nick gave him a motivational shove toward the door. “Let’s go.”
    * * *
    An hour later, back at the precinct, Guerra sat slumped in a chair in the interview room, his handcuffs looped around a metal bar bolted to the table, and denied any involvement in a murder.
    “You’ve never been to Claremont Park?” Hank demanded.
    “Of course, I have,” Guerra said. “Doesn’t mean I murdered anyone.”
    “We found bones outside your… dwelling,” Nick said. “Raw meat, bones and blood in your house.”
    “Animal meat, animal bones, animal blood,” he said. “Deer, rabbit, squirrel. You arresting me for hunting without a license?”
    “No,” Nick said. “Assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder, resisting arrest and a half-dozen other charges, maybe, but not hunting without a license. We’ll give you a pass on that one.”
    “I told you to leave me alone,” Guerra grumbled. “You were trespassing.”
    “You don’t own that land,” Hank pointed out. “Building a house—I’m using that