Diane cocked her head. “A rifle ain’t no good? We’ll see about that when I shove it so far up his…” She stopped and put her hands to her head in disbelief as Sapphire held the rifle aloft like a trophy hunter who had bagged a rhino. “Where’d that come from? You said—”
Sapphire handed her the rifle. “I said things were a blur. Which meant Goodwin’s merry band of idiots didn’t see me slide it under my bed while they snooped around your things. I palmed the pendant, too. I had to leave them the tablet so they’d have something to fixate on. Plus, like I said, it really was a hunk of crap. You should invest in an ARCTURUS.”
“Why, and give money to your daddy? I was fine with what I got.”
“What you got, Pembrook, is a bad case of The Sticks.”
“The what, now?”
“The whuh whuh?” Sapphire let her jaw slacken and dropped her voice an octave.
“That ain’t funny. Quit.”
“Seriously, Pembrook, get a grip before someone hears you. You work so hard putting on this weird urban accent that you forget you backslide when you’re upset or agitated. Hard.”
“I ain’t doin’ no nothing wrong, I—” Diane blanched and put her hand to her cheek. She was mortified that her rural roots had broken through the layers of education and practice she’d been laying down for well over a year.
Sapphire put on her mocking tone again. “Well, y’are, wut with tryin’ tuh talk like a yankee.” She reverted to her normal speaking voice. “Honestly, Pembrook, you twang out enough anyway. Why not just own it? Who cares if you talk like you’s from Alabama?”
“I… want to be respected. I…” She slowed down to enunciate the words to her liking. “I don’t want people treating me like some stupid hick. Like you just did.”
“I was treating you how you deserved to be treated: like a phony. Pembrook, just be yourself. It’s fine.”
“When I come into some money, I want people to take me serious.” Diane stood her rifle up in its usual resting place.
“Seriously. Keep hitting those books, Pembrook. That’s all I can say. Oh, except one more thing. Seems to me, your idol Alexis Charlie-something has a southern accent. She’s supposedly a multi-billionaire, isn’t she? Don’t people respect her?”
“Her name is Alexa Charlevoix, and yeah, they do. Well, not Brent Moorcroft, but he’s such an ass. I wish they’d finally reveal who’s been messing with her. It’s not him. He’s just the go-between. I’m thinking it’s—”
Sapphire put her hands to her ears and tossed her head back. “Oh my god, I don’t care.”
Diane smiled and threw up her hands in frustration. “Sorry. I can’t believe they stole my tablet. I’m still way behind on my stories.”
Sapphire opened her nightstand and produced a gift-wrapped package. She tossed it to Diane and flopped down on her bed.
“What’s this?”
“Open it, genius. The point of the wrapping paper is to make it a surprise.”
Diane ripped open the package and put her hand to her forehead in disbelief as she revealed a brand-new ARCTURUS tablet, complete with ear buds. “Wow, thanks, Sapph. You didn’t have to do that.”
“True. Guess I’m not completely horrible. But I’m warning you, if I have to hear Chet Franklin go on one more minute about that stupid treasure map I’m going to need that rifle back.”
Diane plugged the earbuds into her tablet and switched it on. Once the main screen appeared, she hunted around for the ArcMAX icon, frowning as she recalled the service was disconnected for non-payment. She was spoiled with Lyssa’s tablet with ad-free connections to virtually everything. Everything except FreeGab, which she only used to communicate with Diane because she couldn’t afford anything else.
Sapphire cleared her throat and pointed to an icon labeled ENTERTAINMENT. Diane tapped the icon, not expecting anything to happen. A gallery of available titles filled the screen, each bearing a WATCH FREE banner, including Fortune and Destiny. Her face brightened up and tears of joy streamed down her red cheeks. “You gave me the Platinum package? Sapphire, you’re the best.”
“Eh. I figure you’d suffered enough in the cell. It seemed like the least I could do to make a little of it up to you.”
Diane beamed at the sight of the Fortune and Destiny warm-up screen. She wiped her eyes with her knuckle and smiled at Sapphire. “You’re a good friend, Sapph.”
“Shut up and watch your stupid show.” She picked up her bag and left the room.
Chet Franklin and Brent Moorcroft’s nephew Grant stood outside of a crypt. “You sure this is the place? The map seemed to be taking us that way,” Chet said.
Perfect timing, Diane thought as she glanced over at Sapphire’s empty bed.
CHAPTER SIX
Diane’s mandatory down time was both a blessing and a curse, she decided. On the one hand, it felt good to rest her sore ribs and curl up with her tablet, binge-watching Fortune and Destiny. On the other, she felt herself getting increasingly restless and eager to get back out on patrol. She had been spared many of the details, but she picked up enough chatter to know Cade Goodwin was making a prime ass of himself. She wasn’t sorry to be missing out. She started to make regular trips to the gym to toughen up, since she couldn’t stray far from her dorm room with no money or transportation.
Lyssa still hadn’t found a job. She eagerly told Diane all the details of a promising lead–cashier for a convenience mart–only to call back the next day in tears that they “went in another direction.” She chalked it up to being female, fat, and liking girls. Sapphire let out a disapproving scoff. “How about lazy,” she muttered.
Diane had three more days until she could return to active duty. She hit the gym and powered through a hundred push-ups before finally collapsing onto the floor. She’d come a long way since her first attempt in lockup. Her workout was fierce, and she was toweling off her sweaty arms when two junior officers walked in. They were dressed in street clothes, but not to work out. Diane sat and sipped her water and gave them a curt nod.
She didn’t know them very well. As she recalled, they were either fresh off the latest academy session or the one before. She didn’t like their looks. The both had greasy-looking hair. They were clean-shaven, which kept them from being clones of Lieutenant Griggs. Even so, they seemed like the sort of officer Sapphire warned her about: toadies to Griggs in his little army. The one on her left slapped her cup out of her hand. “Hey, cop killer.”
Diane stood up and got up in his face. “I was exonerated. You got a problem with it, you take it up with Kenner.”
The officer pushed her backward. “I’ve got a problem with cop killers. I’m taking it up with you.”
Diane reached for her hip and remembered she was unarmed. Griggs was right, she thought, maybe she did rely on guns too much. The other officer crowded in close. “We both got a problem with cop killers.”
“Goody for you. Two on one, is that how it’s gonna be? Okay, take your best shot.” Diane felt herself tensing up as adrenaline shot through her veins.
“C’mon, Paulie, knock her out so we can have some real fun with her,” said the second officer.
Diane raised her fists. “You heard him, Paulie. Bring it.”
Paulie bounced on his toes and swatted at her. Diane bobbed and weaved, trying to find an opening to land the first punch. She got her chance when Paulie reached too far and gave her a juicy target in the form of his chubby left cheek. She took a swing and connected. The gym echoed with a loud smacking sound as Paulie spat.
“Okay, bitch, now I’m pissed. C’mon, Jimbo, hold her down so I can really mess her up.”
Diane took a swing at Jimbo and missed. He wrapped his arms around her and tried to wrestle her to the ground. He smelled like beef jerky. He grabbed her breasts and gave them a hard squeeze. Diane drove her heel into the top of his right foot and jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. “Oh yeah, Jimbo? You like it rough? You’ve got to try harder than that to get me on my back
.”
Paulie brandished a pair of five-pound dumbbells. “I’ve got this, Jimbo. Step aside.”
Diane braced herself for the first blow. Paulie swung wildly but the extra weight threw off his follow-through. He called out to Jimbo to grab her again, so he could get in a good shot. Diane tussled with Jimbo and felt another pair of hands on her shoulders. They weren’t Paulie’s. Great, she thought, I’ll be spitting teeth in no time.
Instead, a loud voice said, “Whoa, hey, what’s all this commotion, huh? What’s with ganging up on poor old Pembrook?”
Goodwin. Diane recognized his voice a second before she saw his smirking face. He pulled Paulie and Jimbo away from her and backed them off, one with each hand. Paulie dropped the dumbbells as instructed. Jimbo tried to rush past Goodwin but was given a stern glare that kept him compliant.
“That bitch is a cop killer. Kenner might let her walk, but we won’t.” Paulie jabbed an accusing finger at her.
Goodwin shook his head and kept his voice firm. “Nothing doing. You two are going to go cool off, and then you’re going to apologize to Pembrook in front of the others. If you don’t, I’m her witness, and your best hope is to be kicked off the force. They’re into breaking in their fancy new cell block, I hear. The things they’re doing to Bradford will make you piss yourselves. What’s it going to be?”
Jimbo and Paulie shook free of Goodwin’s grip and brushed themselves off with their hands. “I’m not saying sorry to cop killers,” Paulie said.
“Too bad. You’ll wish you’d taken that route when they stick hot needles in your tongue. I heard Bradford’s looking like a baby porcupine crawled into his mouth and died.”
Jimbo felt his tongue with his pudgy fingers. “For real?”
“You can find out the hard way. This is your last chance. Are you going to go cool off and apologize to the lady?”
Paulie and Jimbo nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, alright. We’re going. C’mon, Jimbo.” Paulie led Jimbo from the room. Goodwin turned to Diane and sized her up.
“You okay, Pembrook? They didn’t break your ribs again, did they? It would be a shame if you couldn’t come back on patrol on schedule. It’s a war zone out there. We need all the help we can get.”
Diane felt her ribs. They were sore, but she was more aggrieved that she was denied the opportunity to beat down her attackers one-on-two and send a clear message to anyone else looking to screw with her. “I’m fine, Goodwin.”
“That’s good to hear. And I’m serious: I’m your witness. If you want to take this up to Kenner and make an example of them, I’m on your side. That’s what teammates do, Pembrook, they look out for each other.”
Diane was wary of his sudden conversion. But she couldn’t disagree with him now, she figured. If she pushed back, she’d be the bad guy, not him. “Yeah, well, I appreciate you.”
“Not at all. If you need a spotter, just say the word. Working out alone is risky business.”
“I was just finished, actually,” she lied. She intended to bust out another hundred push-ups after a break.
“Okay, another time, then. See you in the briefing room.” He walked with a confident swagger toward the exit, then stopped short. “Oh, I was just thinking.”
Diane resisted the urge to feign concern and ask, “Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” Instead, she simply said, “Hm?”
“About sticking up for each other. I was thinking, maybe you should let Kenner know I helped you out of a jam. You don’t have to go into the details. We’ll save that for if those two meatheads don’t make good on their probation. No, just say something like, ‘Hey, Kenner, that Goodwin is a great guy.’ You know? I won’t put words in your mouth. The point being, it will mean more coming from you.”
“Sure, I can do that.” In hell, she thought. “Next time I see him, I’ll put in a good word.”
Goodwin beamed at the news. “Oh, that’s fantastic. Say, I think he’s just down the hall. Let’s see if he has a hot second to talk to you.”
That sneaky bastard, she fumed. “Great. Let’s go.” To hell, she seethed.
On the eve of Diane’s return to active duty, she sat on her bed with her back against the wall and took in one last episode of Fortune and Destiny. The show had been teasing a huge reveal as to who had been vexing Alexa Charlevoix at every turn, but even Lyssa agreed it was dragging on too long. She and her legion of superfans had made up their collective minds as to who it was, but Diane wouldn’t hear it. She liked having the story unfold at its own pace and accepted the on-screen action as though it were a true-life documentary.
She wasn’t as patient with Chet Franklin’s seemingly eternal quest to reach the end of his damned treasure map. He could stick it, for all she cared. After carefully zooming past yet another discussion about the last clue, Diane smiled as Alexa returned to the screen. Her bliss was short-lived as Alexa appeared to be on her sixth glass of wine. She sat in her living room in Strathmore Manor, alone and miserable. She raised a glass to her lips and clumsily took a sip that splashed down her neck and onto her expensive–and wrinkled–red dress.
A heavy wood door burst open, and Jackson, her long-suffering lover charged into the room. “Alexa, what are you doing? Why aren’t you replying to any of my messages?”
“Hiya, Jack. Long time…” she paused to hiccup, “no see. How’s life in the big city?”
Jackson picked up her wine bottle and frowned at the label. He took a whiff of the neck and set it aside on a glass table. “Good grief, Alexa. I know you’re full of surprises, but drinking supermarket wine isn’t one of them, or so I thought. You’re a train wreck.”
“Choo choo,” she said, and took another drink. Jackson prevented her glass from falling to her lap. He set it beside the wine bottle and pulled her upright. He squeezed her shoulders as her head lolled around. She tipped her head back and pooched her lips. “Kiss me, killer. What are you waiting for?”
Jackson set her down on a chair and shook his head disdainfully. “Oh, Alexa. This isn’t like you. None of this is like you. You’re acting… beaten.”
Alexa’s eyes flashed with fury. “Beaten? Nobody’s better than me. Don’t forget, I still have my 67% stake in PDX. I’ll crush you and everyone who looks like you if I want. Be nice to me.”
Jackson riffled through a pile of papers on a table in the foreground. “67? Alexa, it used to be 95. What happened?”
“Well, Jack,” she said with an air of melancholy, “I made a little deal with Brent Moorcroft. It’s a safety in numbers thing. Or so I thought. He turned around and sold his shares to Moriarty Holdings. That little stinking weasel. I ought to have him taken out once and for all. I could do it, Jack, just like that.” She tried to snap her fingers but couldn’t work out the motion. “I know people. Powerful people, Jack.”
Jackson flipped through the pile of papers, then slapped them down on the table. He turned to Alexa, grabbed her bare shoulders, and shook her. “For heaven’s sake, Alexa, get ahold of yourself. Look at you. Powerful people? The most powerful person I know is sitting right here, drunk on cheap wine and throwing her empire away on some petty feud. That’s not the Alexa I know. I’m not going to stand here and watch you throw yourself a… pity party.”
Diane stiffened up against her dorm room wall as she watched the scene. She hated seeing Alexa so beaten down. She agreed with Jackson: Alexa was the most powerful woman in the world. Why wasn’t she acting like it?
“Well, mister smarty man, it’s my pity party, and you’re not invited. Get the hell out of my house! I never want to see you again.” She staggered toward him, pointing a slender finger.
Jackson nodded gravely and headed to the door. “Okay, Alexa, you win. I’m leaving. You call me when you’re done wallowing in self-pity and ready to stand up and fight like the tough as nails bitch I know you are.” He ducked as a vase crashed against the wall beside him, then slipped out the door as the wine bottle struck it.
Alexa ran her fingers through her hair and stum
bled around the room in a stupor. She looked up and shouted, “Will one of you worthless servants bring me more wine? I just ran out.”
A moment later, a knock sounded at the door. She looked around in a daze, then staggered over to answer the summons. The camera flipped to show her face as the door opened. Her eyes widened, and her face became a mask of terror. She only uttered one word: “You…!”
The screen went dark, then a barrage of ads started. Diane tossed the tablet aside and yanked her earbuds out. She was officially caught up with everything she had missed. Monday would bring a new episode, and perhaps, answers.
Diane looked around her dorm room and sighed. Instead of being escapist entertainment, Alexa’s plight drew Diane’s current situation into sharp focus. The Panther Division was supposed to be her ticket to better things. A steady job, good pay and benefits, danger, and a path to advancement. Lyssa told her about the jobs she had worked previously and none of them appealed to Diane. She dimly recalled her stints working as an office cleaner and stock girl, but they were just a way to get established in an unfamiliar city and pay her share of the rent. She didn’t love scrubbing sinks or stacking cans.
Lyssa, by comparison, wasn’t doing any of those things. Diane didn’t like it when Sapphire called her lazy for not finding a job by now. After Arbor Day, the job scene was hit and miss. On the one hand, though people didn’t like to openly talk about it, the death and destruction of that day left quite a few job openings in its wake. On the other, businesses were nervous about hiring people. This wasn’t talked about either, but Diane felt the uncertainty in the air after Arbor Day. Everyone wondered: was that it? Was another attack in the works? Why hire people who could be dead tomorrow? They couldn’t wait forever, she concluded, but for now, this was a valid excuse for not landing a new job.
But was it, though? Diane thought about her office cleaning job. She didn’t like it, but all she did was tell the right person she’d work for cash on any schedule they had available, and she was vacuuming floors in no time. Lyssa was vacuuming floors too, only after tons of nagging from her ever-present mother.
A Dangerous and Cunning Woman Page 5
