Deuces Wild

by Christina C Jones

  From the very last place I wanted to get it.

  Four.

  “Why not just arrest her?”

  I looked up from the spot on my desk where I’d been absently staring for God knows how long to find Vivica standing over my desk, arms crossed, eyebrows lifted. I knew exactly what she was hinting at, and she was spot on, but damn if I was about to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was right. So instead of giving a real response, I uttered the one thing I knew would get under her skin like nothing else.

  “Huh?”

  As expected, she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you “huh” me, Bradley. You know what I’m talking about. The hot bodyguard chick you’ve been creaming your boxers over for what… two, three years now? Put some pressure on her. Make her tell us what she knows.”

  I blew a short stream of air between my lips as I leaned back in my chair, propping my hands behind my head. If my partner knew “Ace” like I knew her, she wouldn’t be suggesting pressure. She’d understand that Alicia was the kind of asset who needed to be handled with care. Too much pressure wouldn’t make her crack – it would make her harder.

  “I talked to her already. She says she doesn’t know anything.”

  Vivica let out a snort as she propped her hip against my desk. “And you believed her?”

  “I believe that we’ve gotten all we’re going to get for now.”

  “You shouldn’t have gone by yourself. If I’d been with you, I bet we would’ve got some answers out of her.”

  I shook my head. “If you’d been with me, it’s highly likely I would’ve been breaking up a fight. Both of you have slick mouths.”

  “Which is why we would’ve gotten along well,” Vivica countered. “I think you were hoping to get some on-duty booty, and that’s why you went without me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “You’re wrong,” I chuckled. “It was strictly business.”

  A grin slid across Vivica’s face as she nodded. “Right. I forgot, you’re still trying to earn all your boy scout badges. Guess you can’t put “fucked potential witness” on your vest, can you?”

  “I’d already have that one if you could,” I told her with a wink, before I straightened up in my seat. Over her shoulder, I saw Chief Santiago heading our way, his bushy eyebrows set into their usual opposing slashes. I met Vivica’s eyes, giving her a quick heads up as I stood, prompting her to straighten into a stand as well.

  “Bradley, Russel, this is Matt Leary, Vice squad,” Santiago explained, even though I didn’t need any introductions to recognize the particular asshole he’d brought with him. I’d gone through the academy with Matt’s Clark Kent looking ass, and had even ridden with him back in my uniform days.

  Back then, I couldn’t stand him.

  “Cree Bradley,” Matt jeered, flashing a too-white smile. “I see you still prefer the low-velocity side of things, over here in homicide.”

  I scoffed. “Not sure I’d call getting murderers off the streets “low velocity”, but hey… keeps us all a little safer at night, right?”

  “Is that what you tell yourself, Bradley?

  No, I tell myself that I’d be on desk duty for a month if I knocked your jaw in.

  Instead of responding to his attempt to get under my skin, I redirected his attention to Vivica, whose nose was wrinkled in thinly-veiled disdain. “Matt, this is my partner, Vivica Russel. Vivica, Matt.”

  In a clear display of his inability to be likable, Matt whistled, narrowing his eyes as his gaze swept over Vivica. “If I got to work next to beautiful ebony queen like this, I’d be keeping my head down over here in homicide too.”

  “Is he serious?” Vivica muttered, turning to me as she lowered the hand she’d started to offer Matt to shake, then rescinded as soon as the word “ebony” left his lips.

  I smirked, knowing just how much and how often this performative shit annoyed her. Vivica was beautiful. And tall. And stacked. The unfortunate side-effect was that she was constantly fending off advances, from victims of crimes, the perpetrators of them, and like now, her coworkers.

  Matt would do well to leave her alone.

  “What?” he asked, clueless to the problem. “I thought y’all liked inclusion and diversity, I can’t appreci—”

  “Let me stop you while you’re ahead,” Vivica interrupted him, raising a hand. “First of all – this is wildly inappropriate. Second – I’m married, to a big motherfucker who would snap you like a twig. Third – Chief, what is this about? Why is he here? What does he want?” she asked, effectively dismissing Matt from her attention.

  “He’s taking over the trafficking case from last week, so I can get you two back on homicide. You’re welcome.”

  I frowned. “We don’t need a takeover. We’ve been handling it just fine, liaising with Benjamin Koy in vice when essential,” I explained to Chief Santiago – reiterating information he already knew, but it felt necessary. “Whoever called in the tip asked for me by name. My partner and I are the best detectives for this case.”

  “I highly doubt that, seeing as you don’t have the balls for vice, Bradley. The case should be with someone who knows what they’re doing,” Matt cut in, before the chief could respond.

  My jaw went tight. “And you think that’s you?” I stepped around my desk, intent on having this conversation face to face if he wanted to take shit there. Before I could reach him, Vivica stepped in my way, putting a firm hand on my arm but saying nothing.

  Still, it was enough to deepen the smugness etched into Matt’s face. “Damn, man,” he said, shaking his head. “They’ve even got you on a leash like a toddler over here?”

  “You have a whole lot to say for a man who was being interviewed by the FBI last month. Your unit chief turns out to be a regular patron for one of these motherfuckers selling kids and you don’t know shit about it… that’s interesting to me. Is that interesting to you, Russel?”

  Vivica nodded. “Downright fascinating,” she agreed.

  “I was cleared of any wrongdoing,” Matt growled, taking a step forward, fists clenched.

  “Of course you were,” I told him, then smiled, unfazed by his attempt at aggression. “You know what they’re looking for, know where to hide what, not to mention the brother-in-law in internal affairs…”

  “Fuck you, Bradley!”

  I shrugged. “You’re not my type, Leary, but I’m flattered.”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Chief Santiago said, stepping between us. “Bradley, it’s not up for debate. The case goes to vice, and you and Russel have a dead jogger in the park, discovered by a preschool group. Everybody has work to do. Do it. Now.”

  “So I’ll expect that file on my desk tomorrow morning then. Everything you have.” Matt spoke up, with way more authority than he had. Even the chief gave him a sideways glance, but I wasn’t messed up about Matt.

  “You’ll get it when I give it to you,” I told him, in the most dismissive tone I could find. “I have a dead body in the park to investigate. Paperwork is handled in my off hours.”

  Knowing there wasn’t shit else he could say or do to encourage me to move any faster, Matt turned and stormed off, heading back to wherever his corny ass had come from.

  I expected some words from the chief about it, but the man threw his hands up and walked away, muttering something about his pension under his breath as he went back to his office. As soon as it was just us again, Vivica turned to me with wide eyes.

  “Explain what that was about,” she demanded, propping her hands on her hips. “You got bad history with Matty or something?”

  I shook my head as I moved back to the other side of my desk to grab my car keys. “Nah, not really. Dude is just a cornball.”

  “Well I knew that as soon as they walked up,” she said, smiling. “But I got a vibe of something deeper. You steal a girl from him back in the day or something?”

  My eyebrow went up. “You know what… he may still be salty about Rowan.”

  “Rowan Phillips? A
s in, the woman who runs the Cartwright Center?”

  “The one and only.”

  Vivica shook her head. “Ugh. Don’t tell me she dated him.”

  “Hell no,” I laughed. “She and I dated when we were younger, but before and after that, we were good friends. Not to mention, we were… technically I guess, foster siblings, even though we were never really brother and sister like me and Camille. So, some local bangers get a little out of pocket with her about selling on the community center block, she calls me, asks if I can help. Of course I can, but Leary is in the car with me. So we go out there, have a conversation, everything seems cool, we leave. He tries to ask me some questions about her, I shut the shit down, cause fuck him. He’s not good enough for her, the end.”

  “But it wasn’t the end, was it?”

  “You know it wasn’t. For a week after that, his dumb ass kept popping up at the center. Asking her out, begging, she says no, he keeps at it. So, again, she calls me.”

  “Had to call a cop on a cop. Damn shame.”

  I raised my hands. “Hey, that’s what he turned it into. I popped up on him, put the fear of God in him. Threatened to kick his ass, report him, all of that. He never bothered her again, and about a month after that, he got transferred out to Reno. This is my first time seeing him since I heard he came back to Vegas.”

  “Which was when?”

  “A year ago maybe?” I shrugged. “I don’t keep up with that dude, on purpose. Not trying to have any reason to interact with known assholes.”

  Viv smirked. “And here I thought that birds of a feather flocked together.”

  “Funny. You ready to roll?”

  “Of course,” she nodded. “Nothing I’d rather do than go check out a dead jogger who has been exposed to the elements for God knows how long. Fun.”

  I gestured for her to lead the way, and we were still going back and forth about the possibilities of this new case when someone called out, “Yo, Bradley! You’ve got a visitor!”

  I stopped walking and turned around, not knowing what to expect.

  But I definitely didn’t expect…her.

  Alicia Miller was dangerous, by more than one definition. I knew better than most that she was capable of tearing shit up – shutting down a human trafficking ring and living to talk about it, for example. I also knew she was capable of worse – I was counting it as a win that she hadn’t simply killed the traffickers and set their victims free before she burned that warehouse down. It was that knowledge that made the fact that she was fine as hell even more lethal.

  Her eyes locked onto mine before she started my way, exuding the kind of confidence that made it impossible to look away.

  Not that I wanted to, anyway.

  She was dressed in all black – pants that hugged softly curved hips before they disappeared into knee-high boots, and a fitted, sleeveless top that showed off toned, golden brown biceps. Her hair was pulled into a single, braided ponytail that swung behind her, keeping the same left-right rhythm as her heeled footsteps.

  When she stopped in front of me, carrying the attention of half the squad room, her top lip curled into the slightest of sneers, making sure I remembered she didn’t like me, for whatever reason.

  “I need to talk to you. Alone,” she said, in a tone that implied her demand wasn’t up for debate.

  I turned back to where Vivica was standing, looking completely amused as she took the car keys from my hand. “I’ll meet you out front.”

  “Thank you,” I told her, which only made her smirk harder as she walked away, leaving me to see what Alicia wanted.

  “What can LVMPD do for you today Ms. Miller?” I asked, crossing my arms.

  “Not a goddamn thing,” she immediately came back with, then tipped her head. “Well… generally speaking. You, however, can do something for me.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “And what might that be?”

  She glanced around, like she was checking to see if anyone might overhear. “Is there somewhere we could talk privately?”

  I considered her request for a moment, taking in the sounds of the squad room – ringing phones, police radios, loud conversations. It was easy to understand why she might want the privacy, so I nodded.

  “Yeah. Follow me,” I told her, moving to lead the way to an empty observation room – the other side of the mirror for interrogations. Once the door was closed behind us, I turned to her again, with the same question as before.

  “What are you doing here? How can I help you?”

  “Facial recognition,” she said, looking me right in the face. “I have a picture. I need the names of the people in it.”

  I drew my head back. “Uh… wow. Okay. Is this picture somehow related to an open case, or…?”

  “No. I mean… I don’t know,” she told me, shaking her head. “The picture is a screengrab from a surveillance video.”

  “The woman you chased in the crowd a few nights ago?”

  Instead of giving a simple yes or no, Alicia just stared, saying nothing, but her silence was as good as an affirmative answer.

  “Who is she, Ms. Miller?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m here. The only reason I’m here.”

  “You have to have some idea, or you wouldn’t have—”

  “Except I don’t,” she snapped, nostrils flared. “I… look, if the answer is no, whatever. Just tell me. But I can’t give you anything more than the picture. It’s all I have,” she said, finishing in a tone that was much less demanding than the one she’d started with.

  I pushed out a sigh, glancing through the window into the empty interrogation room on the other side of the glass. Unbidden, the memory of interviewing that Roach character the week before came to mind, reminding me that Alicia Miller was no passive victim.

  There was something happening here, and I damn sure intended to find out what.

  “Show me the picture.”

  I expected her to pull a picture from her purse or something, but I didn’t realize until right then that she wasn’t carrying one. Instead, she pulled a cell phone from her back pocket, but didn’t hand it to me. She held it up to her chest as she looked me over again.

  “There can’t… I don’t need any type of paper trail on this,” she said, meeting my eyes. “This has to be kept between me and you. No one else.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t promise you that. Everything I do in here leaves a trail. I log into my computer to run a search, that’s a breadcrumb. I pull a file, that’s a breadcrumb. I need to take a second look at the evidence, that’s a—”

  “Breadcrumb. Yeah, I get it,” she said, holding up a hand. “You can’t help me. This was a mistake.”

  She turned to leave, but I grabbed her arm to pivot her back to facing me. It wasn’t until she looked down, staring at where my hand circled her arm, that I realized just how potentially risky that was.

  I moved my hand from her arm, but still maneuvered to be between her and the door – honestly, probably still an unsafe position, but I needed her to stop for a second.

  “I didn’t say I couldn’t help you.”

  “If your help means having Metro in my business, you cannot help me.”

  I shook my head. “I have a friend. Well… a friend of a friend, who is really into all that techy shit. She has a sister who is super into it. A… hacker, I guess. She can get into anything.”

  Alicia’s eyebrows bunched together. “A hacker?” she glanced around again, like she had back in the squad room. “Is this some kind of joke? Because it’s not funny.”

  “I know it’s not funny. I’m not being funny. I’m dead ass serious.”

  “Oh so it’s a set up then,” she said, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she took a step closer. “Is that what this is?”

  “No,” I told her, my tone firm. “I know it’s not conventional, and probably not what you expected to hear, but… you said you needed help. Unless you want me to use my login to run the picture through VICAP… this is
the only thing I can offer you.”

  “Why?”

  I hiked my shoulders. “Why what?”

  “Why help me at all? Especially like this?” she asked, still wearing that suspicious expression. Just looking at her stance, I could tell she was tense – shoulders high, fists clenched, jaw tight. Classic indicators of stress – stress that had her tightly wound enough that there was little doubt in my mind – she would attack, if necessary.

  I had no intention of making it necessary.

  “Alicia, you said you needed help – so that’s what I’m trying to do. I mean you turned over a criminal trafficking ring, no reward involved. Just… because. The way I see it, giving you a name is the least I could do - but if anything pops off, you didn’t hear shit from me,” I said, tacking on a laugh to try to lighten the tension in the air.

  I failed.

  “Stop connecting me to that,” she snapped, taking yet another step closer. “I told you I didn’t have shit to do with it.”

  “And I told you that I didn’t believe you.” My tone was casual – I wasn’t fazed by the unspoken threat in her body language. I knew the woman could kick ass, but she wasn’t about to kick mine.

  At the very least, I would keep her on her toes.

  “I don’t give a shit what you believe. What can you prove?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing. You know that. Which is why your bold ass strolled into a police station in the middle of the day, knowing I suspected you. You’re a brave woman.”

  For some reason, she didn’t take that as a compliment – the fire left her eyes, and her gaze dropped away from mine as she stepped back, shaking her head.

  “Not really. But that’s here nor there. Give me the hacker’s name.”

  “It doesn’t exactly work like that. I’ll get in contact with her, and she’ll get in contact with you.”

  “When?”

  “Soon.”

  “Make it sooner than soon. This is important.”

  My eyebrow lifted. “Ms. Miller… are you in some kind of trouble?”