Past in the Present
Sherryl D. Hancock
Copyright © Sherryl D. Hancock 2019
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior written permission from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by Vulpine Press in the United Kingdom in 2019
ISBN 978-1-912701-57-5
Cover by Claire Wood
www.vulpine-press.com
Also in the MidKnight Blue series:
Building Empires
Empires Fall
Where Loyalties Lie
Treachery Rising
Betrayals Stand
For all Intents and Purposes
Blood in the Water
Means to an End
Chapter 1
“Okay, do you two have anything?” Midnight said as she glanced up, her gold-green eyes flicking to her husband of twelve years, Rick, and then her partner of sixteen years, Joe Sinclair.
Both men looked up, thinking in unison how tired Midnight seemed. Midnight Chevalier-Debenshire singlehandedly ran the San Diego Police Department as the Chief of Police. She’d avoided hiring an Assistant Chief in the four years she’d held the post. Rick was fairly sure it had everything to do with the distasteful memories she had of a previous AC who, when she was still a lieutenant, had sexually harassed her, telling her he would promote her to captain if she slept with him. Rick had particularly enjoyed taking the man into custody when they’d bugged his office during an interview with Midnight.
Now, years later, she was trying desperately to keep up with her ever-growing popularity in the media and law enforcement community, as well as her ever-growing department. Many of Midnight’s closest friends had been suggesting she hire an Assistant Chief for a year or more, but she’d been stalling. Rick suspected she’d been hoping Joe, her best friend as well as her former partner, would change his mind about taking the job. Joe had resoundingly turned her down time and again, citing his lack of desire for such a political position.
Recently, Midnight had finally given in to the pressure from her husband and friends and had put out a Law Enforcement Bulletin advertising an opening. She’d been flooded with applications and resumes almost immediately. It had taken days to wade through them. Rick and Joe had been assisting her. This particular evening, the three of them were sitting in her office reading over the applications.
Noting her husband resting comfortably, stretched out on the couch, and Joe sitting casually in one of her chairs, his long legs out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, Midnight was unable to keep the grin off her face. Here sat the two most important men in her life, and as usual, they were helping her with an excruciatingly boring task.
“You know what this makes me think of?” she said.
“What?” Rick asked, his English accent still strong after many years in the States.
Midnight looked at Joe and grinned. “The time I was looking for a second to help me run FORS.” She was referring to the gang task force she’d created years before, which she had run quite successfully with Joe’s help.
Joe grinned widely, his light blue eyes twinkling in amusement. “I don’t go in for any of that chasing around the desk crap,” he said, his accent as clear as Rick’s, his smile growing wide as he quoted the words Midnight had said to him the day he’d applied to be her second-in-command at FORS.
“Good,” Midnight replied, smiling as well. “’Cause I don’t do any chasing around the desk crap.” She began to laugh as Rick’s grin started, and Joe nodded.
“Damned right!” he said, laughing. She had remembered his reply to her just as well.
“I don’t see your application here, Deputy.” Midnight raised her eyebrow at Joe. The title was one he’d held long ago when he applied with her.
“Nor will you, Chief,” Joe replied smoothly, giving her a mocking stern look as he pointedly called her by her current title.
“Ugh!” she said in disgust, throwing herself back in her chair. “Joe, you know I can’t do this without you!”
“Bullshit,” Joe replied, unruffled. “You’ve done quite well for the last four years.”
Midnight narrowed her eyes at him, then looked at her husband, who was grinning at the exchange.
“Don’t give me that look, Night,” Rick said, sitting up. “You know damned good and well you need help. Joe just meant you’ve been doing it for this long without him.” Rick gave his best friend a sour look, for making Midnight think she could avoid hiring an Assistant Chief at all. “You don’t have to live with her burnt out all the time, man. If you did, you’d know where I’m coming from.”
Joe nodded. “I know what you mean, I just don’t want the job. You think I want to look like that all the time?” he said, gesturing to Midnight, then promptly ducked the pen that came flying at him from her direction.
“Still got good reaction times for an old man, Sinclair,” Midnight said, laughing even as she narrowed her eyes at him.
“You know I think you’re beautiful, Midnight,” Joe began soothingly. “You just look like shit right now.”
“Nice,” Midnight said, giving both men a vile look. “Well, let’s get this done so I can schedule interviews and get it all over with.”
They did just that, selecting four candidates.
Rick was surprised the following week when she informed him of her plan for the candidates—interviews were that day.
He was sitting at their kitchen table having his morning coffee when Midnight walked in, stunning him with the simplicity of the outfit she wore. As was the style of the time, Midnight’s skirt was long, to her ankles, but had slits up both sides to just above her knees. The skirt was white, and set off her ever-tanned legs nicely. She wore an emerald green silk Oxford blouse and the emerald-and-gold necklace and earrings Rick had given her for an engagement present twelve years before. Her copper-blond hair was held back from her face at the crown with a white hair clip. Her makeup, as usual, was light, but effectively highlighting her finely boned face, sun-kissed skin, and gold-green eyes. She was the picture of health, vitality, and youth, even at thirty-seven years of age. Rick found her endlessly attractive, and never could figure out how she still managed to surprise him even after almost twelve years of being together.
“Wow,” he said, his eyes and the look on his face saying all that his single word hadn’t.
Midnight laughed and shook her head, never sure what it was her husband saw that made him react the way he just had. She poured herself some coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, looking him over as she often did. Rick, too, was still incredibly attractive to her, with his light brown curly hair still worn a few inches past his shoulders. His deep blue eyes, set in a handsome, finely boned face, could glitter with laughter or darken with passion, and still held her hypnotized so often. His swimmer’s body, all lean strength and hidden power, was still long and lean, standing an even six feet. He could excite her with a look, or infuriate her just as quickly. Theirs was still a fiery relationship, but there wasn’t a person alive who could come between them.
“Interviews this morning?” Rick inquired, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Uh-huh,” Midnight replied. “Have to pick up the first one at nine.”
“Pick up?” Rick lo
oked perplexed.
“Yeah,” Midnight said, shrugging casually, even as her hand tightened on her coffee cup. She knew she was about to argue with him on this. “I’m picking each of them up at the airport.”
“Why?” Rick asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Because I want to see how they react to—”
“You?” Rick interrupted, tense. “You don’t intend to tell them who you are, do you?”
Midnight was quiet for a moment, then raised her eyes to him. “Eventually.”
“I don’t like it,” Rick said, shaking his head.
“I’m not asking you to like it,” Midnight replied mildly.
“Midnight…”
“Richard…”
“Okay, tell me why,” Rick said, changing tactics.
Midnight narrowed her green eyes at him, sensing the change instantly. “It’s simple. I have to work with this guy a lot.”
“Okay… and?” Rick prompted, knowing there was more to the answer.
“And,” Midnight sighed, sitting back, “I need to know I can trust him implicitly. Like I would have trusted Joe or you, or any of our friends.”
“What are you afraid of?” Rick asked, his voice softening.
Midnight was quiet, her eyes dropping to the tablecloth in front of her.
“You’re afraid he’ll be like Dearborn, aren’t you?” Rick asked gently, referring to the Assistant Chief who had treated Midnight like a body to be used and tossed aside. Rick felt his insides tighten as Midnight nodded after a long pause. “So you’re going to test them,” he continued—it was a statement, not a question, but his tone of voice betrayed his distaste.
Midnight raised her eyes, and he could see the fire already starting behind them. “Should I just take my chances, Rick?” she asked. “Should I wait to see if the guy will fight me on everything, or not back me when I need it, because he doesn’t really think women belong in law enforcement?” Her eyes sparkled with anger. “Should I wait and see if he’ll try something with me because he assumes any woman that hires a guy to work closely her with must need a man?” She’d hit a nerve with that question; she knew because Rick’s eyes widened in surprise and anger.
“If any guy you hire ever tries something with you, he’ll have me and five of the nastiest people he’s ever met to deal with.” Rick’s eyes were blazing at the very thought of any man trying to force his attention on the woman he loved so dearly.
“I know that,” Midnight said softly. She knew the people he’d referred to were their extended family—Joe, Dave, Tiny, Kana, and Spider. He was right—they were a fairly scary group to have after you. They had all been incredibly fierce gang members before joining Midnight and her crusade to rid her city of gangs. Even if they were all fine, upstanding peace officers now, they still had a tendency toward strong-arming anyone that harmed or threatened to harm the people they loved and respected. Midnight was at the top of that list for all of them. “I know the gang would back me on this, but I don’t want them to have to, okay?” she said, giving him a beseeching look. “I don’t want to have to go through that. I want my first choice to be my best choice.”
Rick didn’t say anything. He simply leaned back in his chair and blew his breath out in a defeated sigh. Midnight smiled slightly, knowing that Rick’s sense of fair play was warring with his need to protect his wife.
“Look, I’m not going to make them say anything out of line. I’m just going to give them a chance to show their true colors before they know who I am, okay?”
“So, what are you going to do, let them think you’re some secretary or something?”
“Exactly—I’m not going to lie. If any of them actually know anything about my department, then they should know who I am, right?”
Rick pursed his lips, nodding “True.” He hadn’t actually thought about that. Midnight was a highly publicized public official. Anyone applying for an Assistant Chief’s job really should know something about the department and its head. It wasn’t like Midnight was some obscure figurehead no one ever saw. She was on the news all the time, making huge strides in improving the quality of life in San Diego as well as the work environment for her officers. She was well known. “So, who’s first?”
“Moss,” Midnight said, her tone slightly amused. Rick hadn’t agreed with her and Joe on this candidate. He was older—fifty-five—and he’d been in law enforcement for thirty-seven of those years. Midnight and Joe saw it as experience; Rick saw it as old and stodgy. Midnight was inclined to agree with Rick, but knew it wasn’t fair to exclude the man because he was older than her. The other hindrance was that he was actually at retirement age, but Midnight intended to find out if it was his intention to retire soon.
Predictably, Rick rolled his eyes and nodded.
Driving along in her car later that morning, Midnight was thinking about the other three candidates. They ranged in age from a young thirty-five—“the pup,” Rick called him—to forty-five as the next oldest down from Moss. The thirty-five-year-old Taylor seemed overly eager to both Rick and Joe, but Midnight thought he was pretty smart for having achieved Assistant Chief status with the Phoenix Police Department at such a young age. Rick and Joe had said he’d probably slept his way into the job. Midnight had given them a dirty look, until she’d remember that the Chief of Police for Phoenix was not only male but reported to be gay as well. She’d found it necessary to swat both men then.
The next highest in age was forty-two, older than Midnight by five years. His name was Barbary, and he was currently a captain for Sacramento Police Department. He ran the vice unit, and from what Midnight could determine, he did so quite well. His service record was littered with accomplishments, although his education level was no more than high school graduation. Joe had liked the man’s application, citing the fact that he had a great deal of street experience combined with the running of a fairly complicated division in law enforcement. Joe knew about that all too well, since he ran the vice unit for Midnight. She had taken his advice and scheduled the man for an interview.
The fourth candidate, Masterson, forty-five years old, was the most impressive on paper. He was an Assistant Chief for New York Police Department. He ran an entire borough. He was an ex-Navy Seal and had two bachelor’s degrees, one in business administration and the other in philosophy. Both were from Harvard University. He had been a cop since his honorary discharge from the Seals and was nineteen years in. His service record reflected experience in a number of fields, including narcotics, vice, patrol, homicide, and internal affairs. Midnight was anxious to meet the man in person. Joe and Rick had figured him for a snob right off the bat, considering where his degrees were from. Midnight had given them both a sour look, reminding them that their inheritances and trust funds didn’t mean they were snobs, so why should a degree from an Ivy League college mean Masterson was? Rick and Joe had nothing to say to that one.
Pulling into the airport terminal area, Midnight parked her white convertible Sebring at the curb. She glanced at the officer on duty and could see that he recognized her. He grinned and inclined his head to her as she walked by. Even as she did, Midnight heard some woman complain, “Why can she park here and not me?”
As she entered through the terminal’s double doors, Midnight heard the officer say, “Because she’s the Chief of Police, ma’am, and if I give her a ticket, she’ll fire me.” Midnight laughed, hoping in the back of her mind that the officer didn’t really believe that. She wouldn’t blame him for giving her a ticket, but she had no intention of dragging Assistant Chief candidates through the airport parking lots. Midnight got to the gate to meet the first of them early, counting herself lucky that at least half the candidates had included pictures of themselves with their applications. Moss hadn’t, so she was nervous about trying to recognize him from the description one of his co-workers had given. It might help that Moss was most likely going to be in uniform. Her next problem was her last interview, Masterson; she’d been unable to garner ei
ther a description or a picture of him. She figured she’d wing it. Just in case, she had made a sign with his name on it, kind of like the limousine companies did. She knew she’d feel like an idiot holding it up, but if that’s what it took, she didn’t mind too much.
As it turned out, she recognized Moss right off the bat. He was the epitome of old-time cop. He was silver-haired and narrow-eyed. He looked her over, and from what Midnight could tell, wrote her off as fluff. His comments in the car didn’t do much to dissuade this assumption. He criticized her driving skills, her music, her age. When Midnight informed him she was thirty-seven years old, he accused her of lying outrageously. Midnight was more than a little fed up with his attitude when her car phone rang. Without thinking, she picked it up and barked “Chevalier” into the receiver. It was Joe calling about a warrant. She answered his questions, glancing over at Moss and noting that he was watching her with narrowed eyes. When she hung up he was silent for a full minute.
“What did you say your name was?” he asked, his tone still condescending.
“Actually,” Midnight said evenly, “I didn’t say.”
“You answered the phone ‘Chevalier’—is that your name?” he asked, as if he were an interrogating officer.
“That’s part of it, yes,” Midnight replied, her eyes glittering with malice.
“Are you related to Chief Chevalier?” he asked, his tone dripping with contempt for what he obviously believed was nepotism.
Oh God, he has no idea! Midnight thought.
“No, I’m not related to her,” Midnight said, pausing a moment to let that sink in, then went for the kill. “I am Chief Chevalier.”
It was apparent Moss was aghast, but Midnight soon discovered it wasn’t due to his own behavior.
“You, you—” he sputtered indignantly. “You tricked me! What kind of circus are you running here?”
Past in the Present (MidKnight Blue Book 9) Page 1
