In the Line of Duty

by Carolyn Arnold

  “How are you making out with Barry’s reports?” she asked instead. She could have smacked herself in the forehead, it was so cold and impersonal. So safe.

  Troy jutted his head toward Winston. “I’m going to update everyone all at once. Not that there’s anything to offer, really.” Disappointment and hopelessness coated each of his words.

  She wished she could hug him and take his pain away. She had to focus on the business aspect of the investigation again, though, to get her mind off the emotional toll this was all taking. “Where’s Andrea?”

  “From what I know, she’s over with Joni—helping her, sorting out arrangements.” His voice was gruff. It was obvious he was taking the loss of Barry very hard, but something told her they had been closer than she’d realized.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” The question came out of its own volition.

  Troy looked away, his jaw stiffened. “It’s not the time.”

  “It’s not the—” His attitude was making her earlobes heat with anger. She was just showing concern and he was shutting her out. Maybe she’d been a fool to think she might have actually found the one. But as she thought it, she began to cool. It could have been Troy who’d lost his life. Maybe instead of abandoning a relationship at the first sign of a hull breach, there was something to be said for hanging on—even if she went down with the ship.

  “Knight.” Winston was signaling for her to come over to him.

  She flicked a quick look at Troy before complying with the sergeant’s request.

  “Knight has some news,” Winston announced to those in the room. “And so does Marsh.”

  Madison glanced at the detective from the guns and drugs unit, who formerly had been with Gangs.

  “You go first, Knight,” Winston went on as a means of preamble.

  “Terry and I just got back from speaking with the eyewitness from the gas station, Janet Hines,” Madison began. “She’s confirmed that the shooter’s voice belonged to a young male. That, combined with what the voice shouted, leads me to believe there’s a gang out there making new members shoot a cop in order to get in with them.”

  There were a few seconds of silence, followed by some whispering.

  She scanned the room and met Sovereign’s gaze.

  “But there haven’t been any other shootings involving an officer in this area,” he said.

  “There’s always a first,” she defended.

  “My CI has come through for us,” Marsh jumped in. He apparently wasn’t going to wait any longer to share his update. He stepped toward Winston, who moved back to let him take the floor.

  The door opened then, and Andrea entered. She tucked herself to the side of the room near her brother, but Troy didn’t acknowledge her. Andrea bobbed her head at Madison, and Madison reciprocated. Even though Andrea was the police chief, Madison found it hard to think of the woman as anything other than Andrea. It might have had something to do with the fact that she was sleeping with Andrea’s brother.

  Her hair, which was normally styled flawlessly, had a few wandering strands. She was wearing makeup, but if she had put on lipstick, it was gone now. Andrea Fletcher wasn’t a girlie girl, but she took pride in her appearance. Madison couldn’t remember ever seeing her without lipstick, not even on a Sunday morning when Madison and Troy went to her house for brunch.

  Marsh clasped his hands. “The word on the street is that a gang is claiming responsibility for the shooting.”

  Madison’s stomach tightened. It was one thing to lean toward Barry’s murder being the work of a gang but another to hear it come back at her.

  “Now, we don’t know which one. It’s rumor at this point. And whether Weir was targeted specifically or this was just a gang initiation can’t be confirmed yet.”

  “Is your informant in with a gang?” Madison asked.

  Marsh nodded. “The Hellions.”

  Madison recognized the name. They were one of the larger gangs in the city with at least a hundred members. Street gangs tended to fashion themselves after the Crips and the Bloods, the original LA gangs. The Hellions, however, were organized somewhere between a hierarchy and the mafia, with a head guy and drug runners.

  Marsh went on. “My informant has made it clear that the act is garnering a lot of talk and respect on the streets and within the Hellions.”

  “We can’t afford to just wait around for another cop to be shot. If we don’t put a stop to this, we’ll have copycats.” Troy’s voice was loud as it bounced off the walls of the room.

  Andrea put a hand on his arm briefly, but he shrugged her off and headed to where Winston stood, and reached him in a few long strides.

  Buchanan remained poker-faced, seeming to take everything in.

  “Other detectives are still on the streets trying to see where they can get with their informants,” Marsh stated calmly.

  “And we’re standing around talking,” Troy blurted out.

  “I recommend that you stand down,” Winston warned.

  The two men were locked in eye contact, but they may as well have been rams locking horns. Which one would weaken his position first?

  “The longer we stand around, wait it out, we’re risking lives.” Troy’s gruffness had softened somewhat. “I say that we start digging into the history of the Hellions.”

  Winston squinted. “And why’s that?”

  Troy pointed toward Marsh. “His informant heard this ‘rumor’”—he attributed air quotes to the word—“but none of the other detectives have gleaned this from their informants? I think it’s likely that the shooter is part of the Hellions gang.”

  Winston gave a cursory glance over at Buchanan, who shook his head before speaking. “We don’t have enough to—”

  “Let my team get started on the paperwork,” Troy interrupted. “We’ll work with the gangs unit. They’ll likely be able to provide an overview of the Hellions’ hierarchy and a layout of their hideout. We’ll pull full backgrounds on the men at the top. After that, we’ll get started on the preliminary operation plan.”

  Winston rubbed his chin and slid his jaw askew. “Hold off on that for a bit.”

  “What are we waiting for?” Madison had never seen Troy in such a hurry to rush into something. “We’d want to strike at midnight.”

  Madison was familiar with the fact that when a search was being executed after ten at night, it required a special warrant. Standard warrants permitted search and seizure during the hours of seven in the morning until ten at night. With the target being a gang hideout, acting later at night would mean more gang members would be there.

  “Tonight? Don’t you think that’s rushing things along?” Winston balked. “More than likely we’ll have enough information to make a move tomorrow, not today.”

  “Tomorrow?” Troy’s temper was rising again; she could hear it in his voice.

  Winston made eye contact with him again and remained silent for a few seconds. “Have you or Benson found anything that stood out in Weir’s reports from his final shift?”

  Troy looked away from the sergeant, and Benson answered. “No one stands out as having strong motivation to go after Weir. And no one appears to be connected with any of the local gangs, either.”

  Winston slid a glance to Troy. “Keep looking.”

  Troy appeared as if he were going to explode as red touched his cheeks.

  “Now, if there’s not anything else…” Winston looked over the room. No one held up a hand or started to say anything. “Get out there, and let’s find the bastards who did this.”

  Chairs scraped against the floor as the detectives got up to leave. Troy beelined for the door. She’d never seen him lose his temper quite like that before. She knew he had one, but he was usually better at keeping it under control. She just wished that he’d open up to her and let her be there for him right now. Didn’t tal
king about one’s feelings go part and parcel with the words I love you?

  Terry came up to her as she was almost to the door. “Just give me a minute,” she said.

  “Sure.”

  She left the room, looking down the hall to see if she could catch Troy, but he wasn’t there.

  “What’s going on?” Terry said, coming up behind her.

  She continued silently staring down the corridor. Her heart was beating fast, and it felt like it was breaking.

  “Maddy?” The voice behind her belonged to Andrea this time.

  “Yeah?” Madison turned around to face Troy’s sister.

  Andrea was in the doorway of the squad room and crooked a finger for Madison to go inside with her.

  “One minute, Terry.” Madison entered and said, “What’s up?” Nonchalant, chummy, indifferent. Anything to hide her hurt over Troy.

  “Losing Barry’s been really hard on him,” Andrea stated softly, as if she’d read Madison’s mind—and the situation—perfectly.

  “I’ve noticed.” Madison rubbed her arms. Usually she was comfortable with Andrea, but given the topic of their conversation… “He’s not good at discussing his feelings, is he?”

  “That’s an understatement.” Andrea smirked, trying to add some levity to the conversation.

  “I know that he was friends with Barry, but so was I and—”

  Andrea’s eyes teared, and she shook her head. “He hasn’t told you.”

  “Told me what?”

  “I was afraid of this.”

  Coolness blanketed the back of Madison’s neck. “What?”

  “Troy and Barry have been friends since childhood—they went to the same college, went through the academy together, were each other’s best man at their weddings.”

  Madison sought out a wall for support and leaned against it. Troy taking Barry’s death so hard was making more sense now.

  “He’s even the godfather to Barry’s girls,” Andrea continued.

  Madison tried to ride out the wave of emotion as it washed over her. Her heart ached, not so much for her as it did for Troy. Though she wouldn’t claim that it didn’t hurt that he’d kept so much from her.

  “Just give him a little space…but please don’t give up on him. I know men can be a pain in the ass with all the macho we-don’t-talk-about-our-feelings shit.”

  Madison forced a small smile. “Troy said you’ve been over at Joni’s helping her? How is she?”

  “She’s having a rough time, as to be expected. I ended up seeing the girls, too, and I don’t really think it’s hit them yet.”

  “And Emily has her birthday tomorrow.”

  Andrea nodded and blew out a deep breath. “I’d suggest doing something for her, but they were going to have a party for her and Joni had us cancel it.”

  Madison’s heart went out to little Emily. It would be her first birthday without her father. And fathers held a special place in their daughter’s lives. Madison loved how her own father would listen and not jump to conclusions the way her mother did.

  Maybe she should just pick up the phone and call her parents. She might even get lucky and her dad would answer. Of course, it was still best to prepare for the conversation she’d always have with her mother, which circled around to when she was going to settle down and leave her job.

  “What if we just do something very low-key for her? Joni said she loved ponies,” Andrea suggested.

  Madison took a few steps toward her. “What are you thinking?”

  Andrea shrugged her shoulders. “We could just get her a couple gifts and have them dropped off to the house. That way she knows people are thinking of her and that she’s not alone. That she still matters.”

  Madison was nodding. “I think that’s a terrific idea.”

  “Both Joni’s and Barry’s parents are staying at the house,” Andrea said. “I waited until they all arrived before I left.”

  That brought up another sad spot for Madison—the fact that Barry’s parents had lost their son. She didn’t need to have children to know it wasn’t right when they went first.

  TOMORROW? A cop was already dead, and someone on the streets was claiming responsibility, quite possibly someone right inside the Hellions. Were they waiting for someone else to get shot before they took action?

  Troy was pacing the halls of the station, wandering one direction, then backtracking. If someone saw him, they’d think he’d lost his mind. And in a way, he had. It was then that he heard footsteps coming toward him. He found himself hoping it wasn’t Madison.

  He took a few deep breaths, prepping himself to face a barrage of questions. And if he heard How are you doing? one more time, he might really lose his temper.

  Barry had been dead for only a few hours. How exactly could anyone just shake that off?

  “It got pretty heated in there.” His sister caught up to him and jacked a thumb over her shoulder toward the squad room, even though he was already around the corner and down another hallway.

  “Don’t start.”

  “Don’t start what exactly, Troy?” Andrea was resigning to her eldest sister voice, the one that rang through with an air of maturity and sense of being in charge.

  “Anything, all right?” He turned his back on her and started to walk away.

  “Have you even been over to see Joni and the girls yet?”

  He stopped walking and took a deep breath. He didn’t bother to face her. “Don’t mother me, Andrea.”

  “You can’t make this better. You can’t bring him back.”

  Anger swelled in his chest and he was on the verge of tears, and he freaking hated it. This unraveling person he was becoming wasn’t who he really was. He was always put together. Reserved. In control. He took another breath and faced his sister. Her eyes were full of tears, and her facial features softened under his gaze.

  Damn it! He didn’t need her pity. He’d be fine…on his own.

  “Maybe you should sit this investigation out,” she said.

  “Is that your sisterly advice?”

  She lifted her chin, and her gaze flicked away.

  “Andrea, don’t do this.” A heaviness sat on his chest, squeezing his heart and lungs as if they were in a vise.

  “As the police chief, I have to look at the larger picture. Your emotional state isn’t the most conducive—”

  “Fu—” He pointed a finger in her face and dropped it. “You know what? Do whatever the hell you have to. But you know that I’m the best person to have on this case. I won’t stop until Barry’s killer is behind bars.”

  Silence stretched out between them. She was scanning his eyes, trying to read them.

  “I’m probably making a big mistake here,” she started, pausing only to give him further scrutiny.

  He wasn’t going to say another word. Why give her fodder? He was at her mercy. All he knew was if he tried to justify his abilities any more he’d officially be off the case. Still, it was hard to resist saying anything. He was about to say her name, ignore his gut telling him to keep quiet and plead his case, when she spoke.

  “I’ll let you stay on the case.” Her gaze was laser-focused on him. “But you have to promise me something.”

  He felt like his lungs could expand again. “Anything.”

  “If you find it’s too much—” she put her hand up to stave off his defensiveness “—you promise to remove yourself from the investigation.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not going to happen.”

  Her eyebrows shot downward.

  “As in, I’ve got this. And I pro—”

  Another officer walked past them. Once he was out of earshot, Andrea put a hand on Troy’s shoulder and said, “Okay, but get over to see Joni.”

  His heart sank in his chest. What was he supposed to say to Joni? Pile on mor
e condolences, bury her so deep that she choked on the inevitable truth that her husband was gone?

  “I’m sure she’d love to see you. Okay?”

  Andrea was trying to make him accountable, but he had so much to do, didn’t he? He should at least get started with his men on gathering intel on the Hellions and pulling prior criminal history.

  “Troy?”

  His thoughts had gotten so carried away with the job, he’d almost forgotten her question. He met her eyes. “You’ve given me a second chance, and I’m not going to blow it.”

  She tilted her head. “So when are you going to go over to see her?”

  “There’s a lot to do.” Troy made a show of looking at his watch. “And time’s moving quickly. I’m of better use to Joni here—finding her husband’s killer.”

  I’m not ready to be strong for her yet…

  “All right, fine.” She sighed.

  Fine was never fine for a woman, but he was just going to pretend it was and run with it. He waved to her as he headed for his desk.

  -

  Chapter 12

  WHILE THEY WERE WAITING FOR the camera footage to come in, Madison and Terry pulled the backgrounds for Janet Hines, Melody Ford, and Rico Beck.

  Janet Hines’s record was just as Gardener had said; nothing of interest stood out. No criminal record, and she was single. Add this to how shaken up she was over what had happened and it released Madison’s suspicions of Hines’s involvement.

  Ford’s background was clean, too, but showed she was married. Her husband’s record was also clean.

  “Rico Beck, owner of the gas station, is fifty-three,” Terry read to her from his computer monitor. “No prior offenses. He’s married and has one kid. Lives in the north end of the city.”

  “What about Rico’s wife?” Madison asked.

  “One minute.” Terry clicked his mouse a few times. “Nancy Beck was charged with reckless driving when she was in her late teens. Nothing else stands out about her.”