by Diane Kelly
I surfaced to applause, whistles, and catcalls. Also Chao watching me with a smile tugging at his lip and Paige watching him with hurt, angry eyes.
She stood from the lounge. “I’m next!” she cried. She ran at the pool and jumped, attempting a flip but not quite rotating far enough and landing flat on her back, a reverse bellyflop. SMACK!
“Ho-lee shit!” called one of the boys, cackling with laughter. “That had to hurt!”
Paige surfaced, her face as red as her back.
In my peripheral vision, I saw two black-and-white cruisers pull up in the parking lot to my right. Nobody else seemed to have noticed yet. Good.
A boy pushed a girl in the direction of the pool. “Show us what you got!”
The girl giggled, ran at the pool, and jumped in, arms and legs flailing in the air.
“What the hell was that?” the boy called when she surfaced.
“Police!” came Derek Mackey’s voice over a bullhorn. “Nobody move.”
I turned to see the Big Dick approaching, along with Officer Spalding, Officer Hinojosa, and another K-9 team comprised of Officer Eklund and his Belgian Malinois, Brutus. The officers had their flashlights out, ready to shine a spotlight on anyone who might try to run off. There was a chorus of tinny thuds as every underage drinker let their beer slide from their hand to the ground and took a giant step back as if playing a solitary game of Mother May I? Drinking? Who me? You’re quite mistaken, Officer.
I did the same, slipping my beer between my legs and letting it fall into the pool. It bobbed for a moment, then turned sideways, filled with water, and sank to the bottom, leaving a yellowish trail in its wake.
A beam of light found my face, blinding me.
“I saw that!” Mackey shouted. “Stay right there!”
Is Derek really going to take advantage of this situation to harass me? I suppose I should’ve expected as much.
A couple of the boys and one girl tried to run, but Hinojosa headed them off at the pass and corralled them back toward the enclosed patio.
Brigit stood next to me, her tail wagging as she watched her canine coworker sniff his way around the area. Brutus alerted on a towel near the crowd at the grill. When Eklund picked up the towel, a bag containing several rolled-up joints fell out.
“Who does this belong to?” Eklund demanded.
Nobody spoke, presumably thinking there was strength in solidarity.
“All right,” Eklund said. “You’re all going in.”
Two boys in the group caved and pointed at a third, who responded by throwing up his hands and crying, “You assholes!”
I cut a glance at Paige. She sat still on the lounge, her arms crossed over her chest, a scowl on her face. But she sat alone.
Where the hell is Chaoxiang?
My eyes frantically scanned the complex. He was nowhere to be seen.
DAMMIT! Had he slipped away? I had to alert the officers somehow. To get one of them on his track.
I stood up next to the pool.
Mackey was in my face in an instant, his breath reeking of the extra onions he always requested on his burgers. “I told you not to move! What part of ‘stay right there’ do you not understand?”
“Chao’s gone,” I snapped as quietly as possible. “He was sitting next to the girl on that lounge chair last I saw him. Get Brutus on his trail. Now!”
It took Derek a moment to realize what I was saying. But when it registered, he stalked over to Eklund and leaned down to whisper in his ear. Eklund glanced my way, led Brutus over to Paige, and issued him the order to track. Brutus put his nose to the ground and took off toward the gate.
Standing there, doing nothing, was hard. I wanted to get Brigit on Chao’s trail, too, not because Brutus wasn’t up to the task—he was—but because I wanted this bust. I was the one who’d gone undercover, lived in a tiny dorm room, held a girl’s hair back while she puked. And, dammit, I wanted to take Chao down. Making an arrest, taking a bad guy off the streets, was the ultimate in job satisfaction for a cop, and I was being denied that satisfaction.
Still, once Brutus had nabbed Chao and brought him back here, I could toss my cover and at least celebrate with my fellow officers, right?
Unfortunately, that’s not what happened. Officer Eklund and Brutus returned a few minutes later, alone, Chaoxiang’s trail apparently running cold. No doubt Chao had hopped into his car and hightailed it away from the complex.
I screamed in frustration on the inside. ARRRGH! This wasn’t the end of things, of course. There was more than enough evidence for Paige to be taken in for questioning now. After all, the dealer’s prints were on her cup from the bar and she appeared in the dash cam footage at the gas station.
Derek had been making his way around the gated pool area, checking IDs for those who were drinking, issuing citations for minor-in-possession to those who were underage and smelled of alcohol. When he reached Paige, she reluctantly offered her driver’s license. He took a look at it and said, “Let me smell your breath.”
She shook her head, refusing.
Derek expanded like a puffer fish. The guy didn’t like being challenged by anyone, but having a young woman like Paige stand up to him, especially when she stood an entire foot shorter, had clearly pissed him off in an epic way.
As I watched, Derek reached down and grabbed the bag from under Paige’s chair. “Is this yours?”
She said nothing, again refusing to cooperate.
Derek plunked the bag down on the chair and bent over to rummage through it. It was then I spotted Alexa standing at the fence, her cell phone out, videotaping the search. She wasn’t the only one recording the events. All around the place kids had their phones aimed at the officers.
“Well, lookee here!” Derek cried, raising a victorious hand. A clear bag was clutched in his fist. It was filled with what appeared to be a dozen or so white capsules. Molly.
Paige’s mouth dropped and her eyes went wide. “That’s not mine!” she cried. She looked sincerely surprised. Shocked, even.
Derek raised the beach bag. “This is your bag, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but—”
“Eklund!” Derek shouted. “Get Brutus over here.”
Eklund led the Malinois over to the chair.
Derek held the bag in front of the dog’s face. “What do you say, Brutus? Is this shit illegal?”
Brutus sniffed at the bag and sat, issuing a passive alert.
Derek cackled that nasty cackle that was like sandpaper on my nerves. He dropped the pills back into Paige’s beach bag. “Cuff her, Eklund. I’ll get the dark-haired one with the mutt.”
Derek stormed my way and got in my face once again. “Give me your wrists!” he barked.
Hey, if he was going to take me in, I might as well have some fun with this, right? I raised both of my hands in front of me in a zombie pose. Derek reached for my forearm, using more force than necessary, clearly taking advantage of the situation to give me some crap. But he’d seemed to have forgotten that I could give as good as I could get. Rather than letting him cuff my wrist, I jerked my arm out of his hold, put my hands to his chest, and shoved him with all the force I could muster. His arms windmilled as he fell backward, a look of utter shock on his face as he plummeted ass first into the water. Nothing had ever sounded as satisfying to me as the ensuing splash!
FORTY-EIGHT
MUTT IN A MUG SHOT
Brigit
Brutus was on duty tonight. He was an okay coworker. He gave her a friendly tail wag when they crossed paths and he’d never tried to mount her. She would’ve had him on his back and her fangs at his throat if he had. He had a good nose, too, though not as skilled as Brigit’s, of course.
They stood near the squad cars, engaged in a silent K-9 exchange.
Having a good shift? Brigit asked.
Not bad, he replied. Would’ve been better if I could’ve had a slice of that pepperoni and sausage pizza I smell on your breath. My human wouldn’t let me take one
.
Don’t ask next time, she advised. It’s easier to get forgiveness than permission.
The next thing she knew, Megan was directing her into the back of Mackey’s squad car. Brigit could tell it was his by the smell. One part feet, one part onions, one part dumbass.
Unlike the specially equipped K-9 cruiser she and Megan used on the job, this cruiser was outfitted for human transport. She climbed onto the seat, squeezing in between Megan and Paige. There was barely enough room for her to fit her fluffy rear between theirs. She looked out the window and saw Brutus being loaded into his enclosure. Too bad she couldn’t ride with him and catch up on the office gossip.
FORTY-NINE
A MONUMENTAL FAILURE
The Dealer
What a way to spend a Saturday night. Stuck at work, reviewing a three-hundred-page bill on agriculture subsidies. Is this what his life had come to? Why he’d run for office? To spend his weekend considering corn, cotton, and kale?
Tossing the behemoth tome aside, he stared out his office window, looking out into the dark at the enormous, well-lit phallic symbol that was the Washington Monument.
His desk phone rang. He checked the readout. It was the assistant chief of staff from his Fort Worth office. He picked up the phone and put the receiver to his ear, summoning the grandfatherly persona that had served him so well all these years. “Hello, there. What might you be calling about on a fine Saturday night such as this?”
What he heard next made him want to throw the phone against the wall. “She what?” he cried, his throat so tight he could barely get the words out.
His chief repeated the message. This couldn’t have come at a worse time.
“Book me on the next flight out of Dulles.”
He slammed the phone down and turned to look out the window again. The Washington Monument no longer looked like a phallic symbol. Nope, it was the world, giving him the finger.
FIFTY
GIRLS GONE WILD
Megan
“Stand on the line,” said the booking officer behind the desk.
I looked down, putting my toes up to the black tape on the floor. I was still wearing my bikini. My mug shot would make a good cover for the next Girls Gone Wild video.
There was a flash as the camera captured my image for my mug shot. Shoving Derek into the pool had provided me no end of satisfaction, but it had also gotten me handcuffed and hauled off on charges of resisting arrest and assaulting a police officer. No civilian could have done what I did and avoid arrest, so he’d had to take me in, too, to keep up appearances. Of course, under the circumstances, nothing would come of the charges. Still, for Paige’s sake, I had to pretend to be worried. I chewed my lip and blinked my eyes a lot, as if fighting back tears.
“Turn to your left,” the officer said now.
I did as I’d been told, and he snapped a profile shot, another flash lighting up the room. It really was a good thing I didn’t have epilepsy or I’d be in full grand mal by now.
When he finished with me, he repeated the process with Paige. Her cheeks were tearstained and her gaze drifted down.
“Look up,” he said without feeling. “I need to see your eyes.”
She looked up at the camera. I noticed she was shaking. She probably felt terrified and angry and forsaken. Chaoxiang had done the girl no favors.
After the booking officer had taken her picture in profile, too, he led us down the hall to the holding cell. The area was dimly lit, quiet, and smelled of bleach and regret. He slid the door open and we stepped inside, joining two other women. One was a fiftyish dishwater blonde with gray roots. She leaned against the wall, asleep with her mouth open. The other appeared to be in her early twenties. She had her knees drawn up to her chest and was slowly rocking herself.
We took seats on the hard metal benches that were bolted to the wall on the left. Brigit hopped up and lay down next to me, draping her head over my thigh.
Now that Paige and I were alone, I could ask her some questions, see what information she might reveal.
I turned to her and whispered, “Where’d you get all that Molly?”
“It wasn’t mine!” she whispered back, her voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t know how it got into my bag!”
Sheesh, wasn’t it obvious? “Could Chaoxiang have put it there?”
“No!” she cried, so loud the sleeping woman opened one bloodshot eye to peep at us. “He wouldn’t do that to me!”
Don’t be so sure, I wanted to tell her. In my line of work, I’d seen men not only frame the women they supposedly loved, but beat them within an inch of their lives. Thinking over her words, I realized they implied that Chao had access to drugs. Otherwise, she would have responded with something like Chao doesn’t use Molly or Chao didn’t have anything on him tonight.
I leaned a little closer. “So Chao uses the stuff, though? Or sells it? There was an awful lot in that bag.”
Paige cut me a confused look, as if unsure whether she should open up to me, whether the cat was already out of the bag or not. Apparently, she decided to shove the cat back in. “I think that cop planted the drugs on me. That red-haired jerk who searched my bag. Did you see how he bent over it so nobody could tell what he was doing?”
“Why would he plant drugs on you?” As I asked her the question, I also asked it of myself. While Paige could only shrug in response, some quick answers came to me. Derek might have planted the drugs to look like a hero, get some attention. Derek might have planted the drugs to increase his arrest statistics. Derek might have planted the drugs to try to restore his reputation after losing the evidence in the earlier bust. Of course this last answer told me both why Derek might plant drugs and where he would have gotten them in the first place.
Uh-oh …
Despite these thoughts, none of these reasons seemed good enough for Derek to risk his career and his status as the chief’s golden boy. I knew, without a doubt, that Derek hadn’t planted those drugs on Paige.
Didn’t I?
I scrubbed a hand down my face as if to wipe away that horrible thought. No. Derek had not planted those drugs. Chao had put the drugs there, ditched what had been in his pocket in case the cops caught up with him.
We’d been able to make a phone call when we’d arrived at booking. Paige had called her parents, who in turn had called the law office of Anthony Giacomo, a notorious and notoriously successful criminal defense attorney in Dallas. He’d successfully defended the accused in a number of high-profile cases in the metroplex, and his name was synonymous with a get-out-of-jail-free card. Not that his representation came free, of course. With his track record and reputation, he was able to charge top dollar for his services. Fortunately for Paige, Giacomo’s high rates were no problem for her parents and the attorney’s assistant had promptly arranged bail. I’d been forced to call my fictional uncle Buster. Paige was sprung first. Looked like her parents were getting their money’s worth.
“McQuaid,” called the booking officer as he stepped to the cell door. “You’re out.”
“Thank God!” she cried, rushing to the door and exiting without so much as a glance in my direction.
Gee, I’ll miss you, too, I thought.
Uncle Buster arrived a half hour later, standing next to the officer at the door. He glanced over at the girl rocking herself before returning his gaze to me. “I hope you’re proud of yourself, young lady!” he shouted.
“You can drop the act,” I said cordially as I led Brigit from the cell. “That’s not Paige. She was already released.”
“In that case,” he said, his tone now friendly and sarcasm-free as he gave me a smile and a pat on the shoulder, “I hope you’re proud of yourself, young lady.”
“I’d be more proud if we’d caught Chaoxiang.”
“We got a search warrant,” Bustamente told me. “Officers are on their way to his apartment.”
“Yesss!” I clenched victorious fists at my chin. “One more dealer off the streets.”
Bustamente reached down and ruffled Brigit’s ears. “You two need a ride home?”
“I’d appreciate that.”
* * *
I woke in my own bed late the next morning, with Seth lying next to me, facedown with his arms arched over his head, the army eagle on his back staring up at me as if to say I know what you did last night. Good work, soldier.
I rolled out of bed, both Brigit and Blast climbing off the foot to follow me. I padded into the kitchen and let them out back. Brigit immediately took off after a squirrel, chasing it up a tree and leaping up onto the trunk. As if she had any hope of catching the quick rodent. But I had to admire her eternal optimism. She must really think she’d catch one someday.
I found a note from Frankie on the counter. At derby practice. Looked like Seth and I would have the place to ourselves for a while.
I went to the bathroom and took a shower, letting the hot water flow over me, feeling no pressure to rush so the next girl could use it before having to get to class. It felt so good to be back in my own place. Of course I’d need to swing by the dorm later to grab my things. I figured I’d tell Emily, Paige, and Alexa that after my uncle Buster had bailed me out, he’d insisted I live with him and my aunt until I could show sufficient maturity for them to trust me again. That sounds plausible, right? They might wonder why they didn’t run into me on campus but, then again, it was a big campus. And it’s not like we’d been close. They’d probably forget about me fairly quickly.
When I returned to the bedroom, Seth was stirring.
“Wake up, lazybones,” I said.
He rolled over, the eagle disappearing underneath him. “Don’t ever go undercover again,” he said.
“Why not?”
He sat up, plumping a pillow behind him. “Because life is boring when you’re not around.”
His sweet words warmed my heart. Unfortunately, my heart didn’t stay warm for long. My cell phone bleeped from the nightstand. I stepped over, saw that it was Detective Jackson calling, and took the call. “Hi, Detective.”
