Taking a deep breath, he followed Haley inside.
A little later, a search of Hunter’s house didn’t turn up a thing to answer Darin’s many questions. Haley, though more than willing to help, only knew the man she loved had not been himself for the past couple of months.
Darin already knew that. Instead of outgoing and cheerful, he’d become restrained, almost secretive. Not at all like himself. It had bothered Darin then. Now he knew Hunter had come across information that led him to the warehouse and to his death.
Darin had to find the information. And the guy who killed Hunter.
****
The funeral was three days after Hunter’s death. Over two hundred cops were there, as was the entire squad. The Hunters took their son’s death hard. Darin understood. He had lost a man who had been as close as one of his brothers.
During that time Darin had made no headway in solving the mystery of his friend’s death. Phone conversations with his squad members confirmed they hadn’t come up with anything either. The two drug lords hadn’t made a single overt move. Darin was at a dead end.
But he would never give up.
The first morning he was due back on the job Darin found himself nervous and uneasy. Not just because he’d go in without his partner, but because Houston’s Internal Affairs Division had talked to him. Though he had nothing to add to his original statement, he didn’t know if they were going to drop the investigation or continue. When he’d asked what caliber of gun was used to kill Hunter, they hadn’t been forthcoming. Since Darin didn’t know when he’d be issued another gun, he’d taken his personal weapon and put it in his ankle holster.
Damned if he’d go about town unarmed knowing there was a killer out there who had to know the guy they hit over the head was a cop. Not for the first time he wondered why they didn’t kill him. He’d been completely helpless, yet all he got was a bump on the head. Something wasn’t right. With or without permission, he’d carry a gun. HPD could take it or lump it.
Nothing about this case felt right. He eased into traffic, headed downtown. It didn’t take long until he thought he was being followed. Checking his mirror, he watched the cars behind him carefully. Traffic was too heavy to determine if he was right or not, but the feeling persisted. Could the dope dealers be tagging him to see what he knew? Maybe they’d intended to kill him but hadn’t been able to before the cops arrived. If so, would they try again? Or were the cops, or IA tagging him because they didn’t believe his story?
It was a relief when he arrived at the parking garage, a bigger relief to see his squad members offering him smiles of encouragement when he walked in.
But it was harder than he thought to be here without Hunter. Maybe he needed more time off.
Less than five minutes later, Captain Wells strolled in. Every head turned.
He wasn’t alone.
“We’re all sorry about Hunter,” the captain said. “He’ll be missed. But drug cartels continue their business, and dealers still deal. We have to stay vigilant and do our jobs so what happened to Hunter doesn’t happen again. We were lucky enough to have this young lady walk in just when we needed her. I want you all to meet Genevieve Carlson. Ms. Carlson will fill the vacancy. She came to us from Dallas with an exemplary track record. So welcome her to the group.” He turned to Darin with a tight smile. “Meet your new partner, Callahan. I’m sure the two of you will hit it off just fine.”
Had the captain lost his mind? Darin took a step in his direction, only to have the new detective step in front of him.
With an outstretched hand, she said, “Hi. Call me Gina.”
He ignored the outstretched hand to walk around her. The captain was already at the door. “Captain. This isn’t a good idea. It’s too soon.”
“Make the best of it, Callahan. You’re lucky the chief is in your corner.”
He turned on his heel and walked out the door, leaving Darin to face his new partner and the sympathetic looks of his squad.
Not on your life. He followed the captain out. “Sir,” he called.
The captain stopped, turned. “Go back to your squad, Callahan. I’m not discussing this with you.”
“Hunter hasn’t been gone but a few days; I don’t want or need another partner.”
“You have one,” he snapped. “Do your job.” And he stalked off.
Darin shook with fury. How could the captain do this? It wasn’t right.
Once he got himself under control, he went back to the squad room. If he didn’t have a killer to find, he’d pack up his desk and go home. For good. There were other jobs out there.
He deliberately avoided looking at the woman designated his new partner. He didn’t think he could do this. He looked at Dwanda instead.
Dwanda Jones, her soft chocolate complexion sporting a tinge of red, strode across the room like a woman on a mission. It was Dwanda’s nature to smooth things out whether it was between the members themselves, the captain, or her own kids. She was the one everyone went to with problems.
She skidded to a stop inches from Darin’s crossed arms.
“Be nice,” she whispered. “The captain can’t help it if he hasn’t a sensitive bone in his body.”
“What’s with him anyway? What was that comment about, I’m lucky the chief is in my corner? What the hell does that mean?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
But Darin did worry about it. He was given another partner his first day back and subtly told what? That if it weren’t for the chief he’d be a suspect and off the squad? His world tilted.
He turned to the woman who would be his partner. Dressed in a conservative gray pants suit, a simple white blouse, and a red scarf, she sent a businesslike message. The suit didn’t cover up the fact she had a sexy figure. Under the fluorescent light, her hair, though blond, had definite reddish highlights. Wide blue-green eyes studied him cautiously.
With an almost imperceptible nod to Dwanda, he went over to address Gina. “Welcome to the squad.” He almost choked on the words, but it didn’t stop him from introducing Dwanda.
Dwanda, bless her heart, took it from there, and led Gina around to the rest of the group.
Darin watched as she drifted from one member of the team to another. The guys were falling all over themselves. Even Ernie, with a wife and four kids, was doing his best to make an impression. Darin gave Hank a little credit; at least he just smiled and let the others make fools of themselves. Joe Lenox though, wasted no time. Her laughter was clear and lighthearted after he’d obviously told one of his bad jokes.
Leya Hernandez kept her distance. At least for now.
He had to give Dwanda credit. Even though she was making the introductions, she wasn’t gushing like the guys.
Dwanda didn’t gush.
Darin wondered just how Gina would stand up. She didn’t have the look of a cop. He couldn’t envision her taking down a burly drug dealer—couldn’t see it.
Sure, the captain said she was good. Which didn’t mean shit until she proved herself. Still, he was stuck with her. A sick feeling grabbed him in the gut. He missed Hunter. Wanted to see his smile, watch his eyes light up after a successful bust. Hear his laugh. But someone had silenced Hunter forever.
I will find the bastard.
A burst of laughter from the corner of the room caught his attention, and he looked over to see his new partner’s face light up, her eyes dance with mirth.
Jeez!
Why did they send a Miss America clone to the narcs? If he had to have another partner, what he could use was another Dwanda. Big, tough, and thorough, she did her job with an efficiency they all respected.
Melanie Harris gave the new detective a quiet, searching look. Darin wondered what she was thinking. With her dark hair, darker eyes, and milky white complexion, she wasn’t bad in the looks department. Though questions were in her eyes, she greeted the new squad member with a sincere smile. Soon they were chatting. Melanie looked soft and kittenish, but she could
shoot as well as any man on the squad and had a brown belt in karate. If he was lucky, Ms. Carlson would be as good at the job as Melanie. He didn’t feel lucky though. Quite the opposite.
****
Gina wasn’t blind or deaf. She knew full well Darin Callahan didn’t want her as a partner any more than she relished her job. The death of his partner was too fresh, the wound not healed. Anyone not in law enforcement wouldn’t understand. She did.
The dossier in her briefcase told her all she needed to know about the squad members. Callahan’s professional skills were good. He had a couple of commendations under his belt. He seemed squeaky clean, as did his family. His background with HPD was top notch until his partner had been shot and Callahan the only one there. His personal life was quiet. Almost too quiet. In his thirty-two years, he had never been engaged or married. He wasn’t gay. At least there was no evidence of it. He dated occasionally, but seemed just as happy playing basketball with the police team, working out in the gym, and volunteering as a coach for the boys’ basketball team at the local YMCA. She was curious. He had green eyes that looked right through you—dark hair more red than brown, plus a build to turn any woman’s head. Why didn’t he date more often than was indicated in her files? Why wasn’t he married with a house full of kids? Women should be lined up at his door.
Her job was to confirm his squeaky clean image. Or prove otherwise.
Watching him as his composure came close to slipping made her mouth twitch. If he knew the real reason she’d been moved from Dallas to Houston, he’d shit bricks.
Then he turned toward her. The hostility in those incredibly green eyes made her flinch.
She had a job to do. A big one. Shrugging, she lifted her head—squared her shoulders.
She wasn’t looking forward to this investigation.
Normally at the start of a new job the adrenaline would be pumping, and she’d be gung-ho to get started. This time, as she looked at the faces of those around her, she dreaded it.
Three women; four counting herself. Four men if you included Callahan.
From all accounts he was a good cop. After eight years on the force, nothing like the case he was embroiled in with the loss of his partner and the missing drugs had ever happened. Which was why she was here. Get to the truth and get to it fast before another incident blew up in the face of the HPD.
The men in the squad crowded around her. Dwanda had wandered over to Leya Hernandez. Melanie Harris had gone back to her desk, but smiled when she caught Gina’s eye. Some were friendly—others not so much.
She knew each and every one of them from the files provided to her. According to those files, Melanie was a dedicated detective. Her dad had been a fire fighter who died on the job. Her brother, also a cop, lived in New Mexico. Melanie lived in a two-bedroom condo with a small mortgage. However, according to her file she shopped a lot and liked expensive clothes.
Gina let her gaze sweep over the expensive slacks, silk shirt, and matching jacket. They weren’t cheap. Neither were the block-heeled, leather boots. According to what she’d dug up, Melanie had a wealthy lover. The owner of a medium-sized oil and gas operation that made specialty tools for oil drilling, Jim Marsh was a millionaire and evidently a generous boyfriend.
Leya Hernandez was the only Hispanic on the narcotics detail. Tough, she came from a poor background and was the first in her family to go to college. As far as Gina could discern Leya had stepped out of the stereotypical mold.
Dwanda Jones, black. Husband and two kids. Someone who liked order. She was dedicated, organized, a fact-finder, and good at research.
Ernie Wade, heading toward overweight, married, four kids. Wife liked nice things, but they didn’t over-spend. Good record of arrests. Professional.
Joe Lennox, around five foot eight, liked to tell jokes. He too had a good record with the department, though he seemed to take chances others wouldn’t.
Henry Kenton’s wife died of cancer two years ago. He lived with his five-year-old son. Hank, as everyone called him, was a quiet person. A by-the-book cop. Gina wanted to find what was beneath the surface.
Knowing how important it was to fit in she smiled at each of them as they made themselves known. Each and every one of them would bear watching. True, Callahan was the one under suspicion, but he couldn’t have killed his partner and been involved in a huge drug deal alone. If he was involved at all.
Chief of Police Hamilton had been adamant that Callahan was innocent of any wrongdoing, convinced Callahan was telling the truth. Captain Wells’ words and actions, on the other hand, suggested Callahan could bear watching.
****
“So...you stuck with her?” Dwanda asked as she once more appeared by Darin’s side.
Darin tried not to jump. His mind centered on Gina, he hadn’t seen Dwanda come up to his desk. “Looks like.”
Dwanda nodded in Gina’s direction. “Bet any one of the guys would trade partners with you.”
“In a heartbeat. But it isn’t their call, or mine, is it?”
“So whose call was it? You think it’s all the captain’s doing?”
Dwanda stood there, her arms crossed over her chest, her black eyes watching him.
He pushed aside the paperwork he’d pretended to read and shrugged.
Dwanda’s brows were huge question marks. She had a way about her that made them all take their cares and troubles and lay them at her feet. She might not solve their immediate problem, but the magic of her words made their spirits lighter. He didn’t think her magic would work today.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“What do you think?”
His glance slid once more to Gina. Joe had said something that made her laugh. Darin’s stomach clenched. “As soon as I find the bastard who killed Hunter, I’m either going to switch departments or switch professions.”
“Humph! That’s no solution.”
“Is for me.”
“Not for us. We need you.”
He glanced at Gina again. She’d strolled from Joe to talk to Hank, who was giving her as much attention as he could and still read the paper in his hand. “I don’t need this. Not now.”
Dwanda laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t be too hasty. Everyone deserves a trial period.”
Darin looked over at the big wall clock. Still early. He sat there, wondering where to start. The squad had been watching the two biggest guys in the drug business, but nothing stirred. Nor had anyone heard a thing on the street about a massive load of drugs. Which in itself was strange. News this big should make the sidewalks jump with info. Instead, silence.
With a sigh, he got up from his desk, put on his Stetson, and walked over to Gina. “Let’s roll.”
An eyebrow arched.
“We’re partners. Right?”
“I’m ready.”
A short time later they were in his truck. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“You’ll see.”
She turned to face him. “I know you just lost a partner and I’m sorry. But to make this partnership work, you’re going to have to clue me in on things.”
“Such as?”
“Such as where we’re going and why. What we’re working on, and what you know about the case. I’ll not work in the dark.”
“I don’t expect you to. Okay, we’re going to the storage unit where my partner died. I haven’t been there since his death, and I want to see it in daylight to see if I can figure out what really happened that night.”
She nodded. “Good idea. What do you expect to find?”
He grunted a nothing answer.
“Has Homicide come up with anything?”
“Nothing other than the name of the person who leased the space. Fake name and address and paid with cash. Just as we expected.”
He drove through the open gate, stopped beside the door marked office. It looked different in daylight. Not sinister at all.
“I’ll get a key and be right there,” he told her.
> He watched as she got out of the truck, walked over to number seven, and looked around.
In less than a minute he was back. She was still checking out the area. He unlocked the door, tugged it open. “Find anything?”
“No.”
He expected the sick feeling. He just didn’t think it would be strong enough to make him stagger. It washed over him in giant waves. He heard the shots, heard Hunter’s groan, heard the voices. His head pounded. He’d thought the headaches were gone. The ground shifted.
Get a grip.
Glancing at his new partner, he watched her check the area, evaluate the scene, and wondered if she’d be able to help him find the answers he so badly needed.
When the earth settled beneath him, he set about reconstructing the scene as he remembered it. If the funeral and being with Hunter’s family hadn’t taken so much of his time he would have been here sooner. Not that he’d find anything, the cops had gone over the place a dozen times by now, but to see if he might remember anything useful.
Gina walked the perimeter of the room. Darin leaned against the wall, shut his eyes, and relived the scene.
His insides trembled in the remembering, but he let it come, relived every moment. Then tried the scene again, changing the scenario. He saw himself coming in faster, sooner. Saw Hunter alive. Saw the two of them taking down the drug dealers.
He groaned. That wasn’t what happened. When he opened his eyes, he found Gina watching him with a curious expression on her face.
“I was trying to remember everything about that night,” he said by way of explanation.
“I could tell.”
“How?”
“By your facial expression. It was very traumatic, wasn’t it?”
To say the least. “Very. I lost my partner and a good friend, as close to me as my own brothers.”
“I’m really sorry.”
Promise Renewed Page 3
