Alex turned a corner and nosed the car into what looked like an alleyway. Caitlin wondered what he was doing when he turned another corner onto a broad avenue which she recognized. He’d shaved twenty minutes off the drive.
“It wasn’t quite this bad around here when I was growing up,” Alex said finally.
“No?”
Alex shook his head. “Oh, it was a rotten neighborhood all right. But you could live a life here, of sorts. Over there,” he nodded at a burnt-out two-story building, “was a little supermarket, and there,” he pointed to a boarded-up storefront, “that was a clothing store.”
Caitlin blinked. It was hard to imagine organized life in this place. “So what happened?”
“A lot of things happened, but mainly what happened was Angelo Lopez.”
She’d heard the name before. “Angelo Lopez?”
“Yeah. A major scumbag. But scumbags are a dime a dozen, we put them away by the ton. This guy’s worse. He’s a loan shark and runs a protection racket. He’s dangerous as hell. He’ll bomb your shop in a heartbeat if you don’t pay up. He’ll send his goons to kneecap you and then he’ll go after your wife and kids. Five years after Lopez started operations here, the neighborhood collapsed. Anyone who had the energy or the wits to run a business had left.”
“Well, that wasn’t very smart of him, was it?” Caitlin frowned. “Sort of like killing the goose that lays the golden egg.”
“That’s not how these guys think, honey.” Caitlin started at the endearment and told herself she was a fool to feel warmth spread through her. “They don’t care. Lopez certainly didn’t. He probably cleared five million in as many years. He sucked the place dry and then he moved on to greener pastures. He’s operating out of Barton now.”
Caitlin sucked in a shocked breath. Barton was an old neighborhood that was gentrifying—and it was where her friend Samantha had found a little fixer-upper of a house. “He’s got to be stopped before he ruins Barton too!”
Alex glanced at her. “We’ll get him,” he said softly. “It’s just a question of time. We’re going to pull in his numbers man, his accountant. You might remember me talking about him. He took the protection money and the prostitution money and the drug money and washed it whiter than white for Lopez. You’d better believe he’ll—” Alex stiffened, his words ending abruptly.
“Alex?” Caitlin hung onto her shoulder strap as Alex swerved violently to the side of the road and braked sharply. “Alex, what’s the matter?”
The car was still rocking as Alex unbuckled his seat belt and reached into the glove compartment. Caitlin’s eyes widened when she saw him draw out a gun. It was a Glock 19, bigger than his service weapon. He held it with complete familiarity. A sharp snick sounded as he switched the safety off. “Lock the door after me, and don’t move,” he said as he slid out of the car.
Caitlin didn’t even have time to answer. Alex slammed the car door shut and started sprinting down the street.
There he is!
Alex hadn’t been wrong. Scrawny build, narrow face, long nose, scraggly whiskers. Ratso was unmistakable, as ugly as his namesake. Alex had been thinking about Ratso, savoring putting the pressure on him—oh-so gently so the DA couldn’t say jack shit about it—and watching him crack wide open to let them reel Lopez in, when wham!
There Ratso was, walking down the street as if Alex had conjured him up himself out of his yearning to see the fucker behind bars.
Ratso had turned around at the sound of a car braking abruptly, but when he saw Alex shooting out of the car, he started running down the street.
Alex was off-duty, with a civilian, in his own personal car. Going after Ratso right now was a no-no. A big no-no.
But…damn it! He could almost taste Ratso’s testimony. He could almost see Lopez behind bars.
Ratso had about a hundred yards on him, but Alex was in good shape and Ratso wasn’t. Ratso looked over his shoulder at Alex gaining on him and darted into an alleyway.
Alex grinned. Of all the cops in the world, Alex was the only one guaranteed to catch Ratso in the dark, winding alleyways of Riverhead. He knew these streets like a mother knows her child. Ratso could never shake him here.
The adrenaline of the chase coursed through Alex. This was what he needed, this was what he had been born for—the hunt. He drew even with the alley, glancing swiftly backward before plunging into the labyrinth of alleyways—and stopped dead.
Though it was only late morning, the sky was almost completely black. The brewing thunderstorm gave the shabby, derelict buildings a sinister bruised look. Even through the window of the car, Caitlin’s pale face and pale hair glowed in the darkened street like a beacon.
Some of the groceries were stacked in the backseat, an open invitation to a fist through the window. Caitlin herself was probably the most delectable thing any of the men in Riverhead had seen in years. She was as juicy a prey to the predators of Riverhead as a lamb tethered to the stake.
Even at this distance, Alex could see her watching him anxiously. Leaving her there alone and unprotected was literally unthinkable. A thousand eyes were watching. The instant he headed into the alleyways, the scum would come swarming out of the woodwork.
Without a second thought, Alex put his Glock in his jacket pocket and headed back.
As he walked toward Caitlin, it occurred to Alex that, for the first time in his adult life, he had put something before law enforcement.
It didn’t seem real, but there it was. His decision had been instantaneous, he hadn’t even had to argue with himself. All he knew was he couldn’t possibly leave Caitlin unprotected.
When Caitlin saw him heading back toward her, she gave him a shaky smile and his heart gave a kick in his chest, just as it had in his kitchen this morning. Alex rubbed his chest absently.
Maybe he should be seeing a cardiologist.
Chapter Eight
At eight o’clock on Monday morning, Alex marched Caitlin up the broad granite steps of the station house and into the high-ceilinged lobby. “Marched” was the right word too. Alex looked like a man on a mission. A soldier with one goal in mind—getting her up the stairs of the station house, no matter what.
They’d argued about it all morning and, not surprisingly, Alex had won. Caitlin wanted to take a bus in and arrive at a different time from Alex, but Alex had refused in a way that made a brick wall look reasonable. When she’d broached the topic, he’d simply said, “No,” and that was that. Reasoning and pleading and even anger hadn’t budged him an inch.
Entering the building together on a Monday morning was more or less the equivalent of having HEY! WE’VE BECOME LOVERS! tattooed in red ink on their foreheads. Apart from the embarrassment, it was terribly unprofessional to engage in an affair with the subject of a study in the first place, let alone publicizing it. Caitlin had broken a lot of personal rules this weekend and had been hoping to get away with it. After all, who had to know? She’d simply assumed that in public, Alex would behave toward her exactly as he had before, in his usual brusque, bordering-on-rude manner and no one would be the wiser.
She would soon be out of the station house, her study completed, with no more professional barriers to an affair with Alex Cruz. She hardly dared to hope that their…relationship, affair, whatever it was, would last out the week. But if it did, then afterward, she was a free agent.
However, in the meantime, Caitlin deeply, deeply wanted to pretend that there was nothing going on between them.
The embarrassment at having an entire cop shop know they were sleeping together was compounded by the fact that, though they’d had copious, fantastic sex all day yesterday—Caitlin was sure she’d used up her sex quota for the next couple of years—Alex hadn’t said one word that made her think it was something more than sex.
It was true that at times his touch was delicate and affectionate, but he hadn’t given any indication whatsoever that this was anything more than hormones gone wild. Caitlin was afraid to ask outright,
because she didn’t want to know the answer. Something told her Alex was always brutally honest and if she asked him whether they were in a relationship, and he answered no, she’d shrivel up and die.
If they became a couple, people would quickly forget that it all started at work, during a research project, which was pretty much a no-no. Couples become part of the woodwork very soon.
If everyone knew they were having an affair, and if it ended right away, people would never forget that she’d been sleeping with a senior police officer. She was going to become a fellow at the Frederiksson Foundation and, as such, was expected to entertain good relations with the law enforcement community. If this…thing with Alex somehow ended badly, right away, Caitlin was going to be up the proverbial creek without the proverbial paddle, and she’d have started her fellowship, her first big chance, with a big black mark next to her name.
Those were all really strong reasons why she didn’t want to walk into the station house at the same time as Alex. All she had to do was walk in a quarter of an hour after him and behave impersonally toward him all day and her reputation would be salvaged.
She’d tried every iteration possible on “let’s keep a low profile”. I can catch the bus and I can call a taxi had been repeated so often she would throw up if she said the words one more time. For all the attention Alex had paid, she could have been reciting the Gettysburg Address.
Every single variation of “I don’t want to walk into the cop shop with you” had been tried and found failing.
She’d dawdled as long as she could this morning, hoping Alex would finally just go off on his own and she could call a cab. But no—Alex had waited patiently downstairs until she was ready. Then, when he had parked the car, she had stated that she absolutely, desperately needed another cup of coffee and that Alex should just go on ahead. But he had simply steered her into a coffee shop just across the street from the entrance and waited until she gulped down a boiling-hot, unwanted espresso.
There seemed to be nothing she could do to shake him off. He had a tight grip on her elbow, as if he knew she wanted to escape. With a feeling of dread, she walked up the big granite steps side by side with Alex at exactly one minute to eight.
“Hey, boss.” A young, sandy-haired police officer greeted Alex and matched his pace with theirs as they walked up the staircase.
“Boyd.” Alex nodded, barely sparing him a glance.
“So…anything good happen yesterday?” the young officer asked. “I was off duty.”
Caitlin knew that in cop talk, “good” meant a juicy murder or at least an armed robbery. Cops lived for the excitement.
“I don’t know.” Alex’s voice was clipped and his face remote. “I didn’t come in yesterday.”
“Yeah, riiiight,” Boyd answered with a laugh. “That’ll be the day. You’ve come in every Sunday since the Jurassic era.”
Alex turned his head slightly and Boyd blinked at Alex’s look. Suddenly he seemed to register Caitlin’s presence, Alex’s hand on her arm and her flaming face, all at once. Caitlin watched in an agony of embarrassment as the young officer looked from her to Alex then back again, finally putting the whole thing together.
“Wow.” He shook his head and raised his eyebrows. “Sorry, boss. Bad case of foot-in-mouth disease.” He bit his lip to keep from smiling and coughed into his fist. “Ah…I guess I…gotta go get a…a report. Right now. Bye.” He loped up the rest of the staircase then turned for a moment at the top to stare at them, smiling. He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked away, whistling.
Knowing how news traveled in offices, Caitlin was certain that in half an hour, the entire station would know she was having an affair with the Loot. There would probably be a pool on how long it lasted.
Alex didn’t seem at all perturbed. Caitlin tried once more to gently pull her arm away from Alex’s grip but it didn’t work. She tried a little less gently.
“Stop tugging,” Alex said irritably, “or you’ll hurt yourself.”
“Well, then let me go,” Caitlin hissed, a big smile pasted on her face for the benefit of the officers passing them on the stairs and staring. She tugged again.
Alex gripped her elbow harder. “No.”
Caitlin understood what he was doing. He’d been halfhearted about having the station house cooperate before—and now he was making it plain that she was under his protection and that everyone would cooperate fully.
It was a nice thought but he could have done it more subtly.
There were at the top of the stairs, walking down the corridor. The grapevine had been at work faster than expected and heads were popping up out of cubicles like prairie dogs at a whistle. Alex seemed not to notice.
“What do you want to do this morning?” he asked her as they walked into the squad room.
“Um…” It was hard for Caitlin to think straight with all those curious glances directed her way. She desperately needed someone familiar, friendly.
Curly brown hair, a round lined face… “Kathy!” Caitlin called out, pleased. “Do you have a few minutes to spare?”
“Sure.” Kathy Martello smiled and beckoned. “Come on over to my desk.”
Alex released his death grip on her elbow. Caitlin scurried over to where Kathy was sitting filling in a form on her computer. An open box of donuts sat next to the monitor, a little trail of sugar and crumbs leading to the keyboard.
Caitlin dumped her book bag onto Kathy’s desk and started hauling out her questionnaires. Alex watched her for a moment then turned to walk away.
“Uh…Lieutenant?” Kathy called after him.
Alex turned back. “Yeah?”
Kathy shifted her weight in the chair and loosened her shoulders, the way wrestlers do before going a round. “Look, Lieutenant, I was busy all weekend and I just couldn’t get around to that report on the Barton shooting. But I’ll have it on your desk by early afternoon, promise.” Kathy visibly braced herself.
Alex raised his eyebrows and one corner of his mouth lifted. “Okay, Sergeant. Just make sure I have it by three.”
Kathy’s mouth opened then closed with a snap. “Yes sir,” she said, stunned. “I…I’ll be sure to do that.”
Caitlin and Kathy watched Alex’s departure. Kathy let out her breath in a little huff of surprise and turned to Caitlin.
“What just happened? He didn’t chew me out, not even a little! Usually, you’re late with a report and he reams you a new one. Hey, wait.” Kathy frowned suspiciously, eyes narrowed. “Was that the Loot just now or do they have a pod in the basement with Alex’s name on it? Because that wasn’t like him at all. Believe me, when he says he wants a report, he wants it yesterday, so that just can’t have been him saying I have until three o’clock to hand it in. And not only that…” She looked at Caitlin, puzzled. “What was Alex doing with his mouth?”
Caitlin sighed. “As someone who has spent the past ten years studying human behavior, Kathy, I think I can safely say that the lieutenant was smiling.”
“Smiling?” Kathy looked from Caitlin to Alex’s back as he disappeared into his office and then back at Caitlin. She blinked. “The Loot?”
“My word as an expert.”
Kathy mulled that one over. “Listen, hon.” She put her hand on Caitlin’s arm and leaned in close. Caitlin could smell bad coffee and the donut she’d just eaten. “Whatever it is you’re doing to him—don’t stop.”
* * * * *
Midmorning, while Alex was trying to catch up with paperwork on the computer, Ben Cade stuck his head in Alex’s office. Ben leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb.
“Hey, guess what?”
Alex abandoned his mouse and stretched his arms above his head. He hated writing assessment reports and they seemed to multiply like rabbits. Maybe he should have Caitlin study how many man hours were lost to this bullshit paper chase. Then he could go to the brass and have it cut down in the name of efficient use of resources.
“Dunno, but I’m sure you’ll te
ll me in the next ten seconds.”
Ben sauntered into the room and settled comfortably in the chair in front of Alex’s desk “Okay, man. You’re really going to like this one. Take a guess who was sighted this weekend?”
Oh God, riddle time. Still, it beat writing up the monthly account of ammunition use, which was next. “Elvis. Back from the dead.”
“Nope.” Ben looked sad as he shook his head. “But Jesus, wouldn’t that be fabulous? Guess again.”
“Okay.” Alex tilted his head to one side. “Judge Crater.”
“Noooo.” Ben was enjoying himself. “Try again.”
“Jimmy Hoffa.”
Ben grinned and shook his head. “Nah, he’s sleeping with the fishes. Come on, you can do better than that.”
“I give up.” Alex shrugged. “Who?”
“Ratso Colby.” Ben looked smug and tilted his chair back. “He didn’t skip town after all. Guess where he was seen?”
“Riverhead.”
“Well, hell.” The front legs of Ben’s chair hit the floor with a thud. “Why don’t you just tell us you’re psychic so we can save ourselves the trouble?” he asked in disgust. “How’d you guess? Riverhead is the last place Ratso shoulda been caught in. Guy knows he only escaped by an act of God and thanks to his skinny ass. He shoulda skipped town days ago. How’d ya know he’s still around?”
“I saw him myself,” Alex said, regretting it even as he said it. “Yesterday morning.”
“Oh yeah?” Ben sat up in interest. “You saw him?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Alex kept his face expressionless.
“I swung by yesterday and you weren’t here. Threw me for a loop. Since when are you not here on a Sunday? Wondered where you were. So now I know! No wonder you weren’t here, you were making the collar. Good work!” Ben grinned. “So when are we gonna put the fucker in the box? Or is he there already?”
Alex hesitated a moment. This wasn’t going to be easy and it wasn’t going to be fun. He let out his breath on a huff. “He’s… Ratso’s not in custody.”
A Fine Specimen Page 14
