In the Line of Duty

by Carolyn Arnold

  Winston didn’t answer right away.

  “What happened?” Based on his avoidance of the question and the pallor of his face, someone had lost their life. Call it a sixth sense or just her experience working around death.

  “The raid was a success, but there was a casualty.”

  Fear pierced her heart. “Troy? Is—”

  “He’s fine.”

  She could breathe again, even if only shallow breaths. “Who?”

  “No officers.”

  Now she could get a lungful.

  “It was a member of the Hellions’ gang.”

  Her heart sank in her chest. “Who pulled the trigger? Who made the shot?”

  “Benson,” Winston said, giving it to her straight. “It seems like it was a good shoot. Internal Affairs will most likely just be a formality, but—”

  She felt her blood pressure rising, her head feeling slightly dizzy. Troy would take this death upon his own shoulders. “If any of Troy’s men pulled the trigger, you can be damn sure it was a good shoot.” She was looking in her superior’s eyes, and her defensiveness morphed into a deep sadness and empathy for Troy. “Who was shot?”

  “Russell Coleman.”

  “Coleman? Shit!” She stood up and paced the length of her desk. “Now what the hell are we supposed to do? He was a strong lead. He was going to take us to the shooter. Damn it.”

  “We can’t do anything about the past.”

  She met her sergeant’s eyes. “Please don’t. I don’t need a life lesson right now.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Since when did Winston back down? He must have really wanted her to go home, call it a night, and pick up in the morning. Her grogginess was completely gone now, though, and she remembered why she’d been at the station so late. Obviously she’d wanted to be here and know that Troy had returned safely, but she had also wondered about something else—if Sommer had been right about where they’d find Clark Cousins. “Was Cousins at the Hellions’ hideout?”

  Winston pressed his lips into a firm line and nodded.

  Thank God, something was going right!

  “Excuse me,” she said.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To question him.”

  Winston got ahead of her, blocking her path. “Oh, no you’re not.”

  “What do you mean? Of course, I am.”

  “He’s going to sit behind bars and stew until morning.”

  “It is morning.”

  “Don’t get smart, Knight. Go home. Get some sleep. Come in for nine, and there will be a briefing.”

  “Fine…” Not that she thought sleep would come, but she’d give it a shot. Bad choice of words, she thought, and Troy entered her mind again. She considered going over to see him, but he was probably already asleep and he’d been through so much. Tomorrow. She’d try tomorrow.

  -

  Chapter 39

  NINE THE NEXT MORNING CAME TOO QUICKLY. Her bed was a lot more comfortable than Chelsea’s guest bed and definitely more comfortable than her Mazda. Madison felt like she’d just fallen asleep when her alarm went off. She grabbed a Starbucks on her way to the station and headed straight to the squad room.

  The place was standing room only already with members from Major Crimes, Guns and Drugs, Gangs, and SWAT in attendance. It seemed that everyone had beaten her here this morning. She glanced around; she didn’t see Troy. She should have gone by to see him last night, to hell with the fact that he might have been sleeping. It would have shown him how much she cared for his welfare.

  Winston was at the front of the room and started speaking the moment the hour and minute hands on the wall clock confirmed it was nine.

  “As you know, we raided the Hellions’ hideout at midnight. Twenty-five people have been arrested. The interviewing process started around two this morning.”

  Madison glanced at members from the gangs unit. No wonder they looked utterly exhausted.

  “It was a success, although one gang member did lose his life.”

  Madison’s stomach knotted into a lead ball at the summation of success given alongside the mention of a casualty.

  “The deceased,” Winston continued, “was Russell Coleman.”

  This was news to many, and gasps filled the room.

  The sergeant held up his hand. “As we already knew, Coleman didn’t fit the description of the shooter and was only claiming to be the driver. We do, however, have another suspect in custody who fits the physicality of the driver. Who was actually behind the wheel at the time of the shooting has not yet been confirmed. Going back to the Hellions, none of the gang members that were brought in resembled the sketch of the shooter, but because we only have the word of one eyewitness on the shooter’s description, I think we should keep an open mind.” Winston glanced at Madison.

  She interpreted his look as calling her out, a questioning of her intuition. But it wasn’t that she was attached to Snyder’s story so much as she went with what she had to work with.

  “We still have not located the BMW,” Winston said. “We did, however, seize some cocaine and weapons, including five Glocks. They will all be tested by the lab to see if any of them match the striations left on the bullets from the crime scene.” Winston paused as the door opened. He did a double take and heads turned to see the source of his reaction, including Madison’s.

  Troy.

  His glance quickly locked on hers, and he headed in her direction. Madison’s heart fluttered as her stomach simultaneously knotted.

  Troy stopped beside her, reached out, and brushed his fingertips along the back of her hand. The softness of his touch made her want to cry, as if all were forgiven between them without a word needing to be spoken. He preferred to make things right with her than be right, too.

  She smiled at him, and he reciprocated.

  “We also found Clark Cousins,” Winston went on. “He was discovered on the second story of the Hellions’ hideout. Detectives Knight and Grant will be interviewing him today, but I wanted him to stew overnight. Even a few more hours wouldn’t hurt in my opinion.”

  If Winston thought she was waiting any longer to talk to Cousins, he was sorely mistaken. She’d been patient enough.

  When the sergeant was done with the briefing, the room cleared out and she found herself left with Troy. The fact that she wanted to make up with him combined with being here with him now made her mind spin. The words weren’t coming. Her pride kept stepping in, telling her that he should make the first move, that he should be the one to apologize. But maybe both of them could avoid that sentiment. They were both hurting over losing Barry; they weren’t being themselves. And really, hadn’t he made the first step toward reconciliation by touching her hand?

  “How are you doing? I mean, in regard to last night,” she was quick to add.

  Troy took a deep breath. “I’ll be okay. I’m just mad that we had to take out Coleman, but we didn’t have a choice.”

  She nodded. “I believe you.”

  His gaze met hers, his green eyes full of life, as if he was pleased by her belief in him. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” It seemed they were back to that awkwardness that typically existed between strangers. “You know, if you want to talk about it, I’m here.” She started to leave the room. Her emotions were closing in on her, threatening to overwhelm her and making her feel vulnerable.

  “I appreciate it,” was all he said.

  She continued out of the room, pausing at the door, but she knew he was going to let her leave. He could have called her back, said something to smooth things over, told her he just wanted to forget about taking a break, but he said none of those things. Maybe she was a fool for thinking that’s what he wanted. She’d known enough men in her life to know that they were out for themselves, not her, and she was the only one
who could protect her heart.

  -

  Chapter 40

  COUSINS WAS IN INTERVIEW ROOM ONE, his head resting on the table, when Madison and Terry entered. Madison slammed the door behind them, jarring Cousins awake. There were always two ways to approach an interrogation—as friend or foe. Madison had the foe part down pat.

  “Where is your uncle’s BMW?” She’d thought about going straight to asking if he shot Barry but skirted the issue temporarily.

  “I don’t have to talk to you,” he said like a spoiled child who was used to getting his way.

  Madison smirked at Cousins but let the expression drift to Terry. “He doesn’t think he has to—” She smacked her hands to the table, and she lunged across it, her nose inches from Cousins in a flash. “You killed a cop.”

  So much for skirting around it…

  “Nope. You’ve got the wrong guy.” Cousins was as calm as a hardened criminal who had been through all this before.

  “Explain why you were found at the known hideout of the Hellions gang, then.”

  Cousins crossed his arms and sat back in his chair as if getting comfortable.

  Two seconds… Four seconds… Six seconds… After a minute, it was clear Cousins wasn’t going to explain himself. She slapped a photograph of Russell Coleman’s dead body on the table.

  Cousins’s eyes drifted to it, but he just clenched his jaw tighter, still remaining silent.

  “He was a friend of yours,” Madison said, doing her best to add empathy to her words.

  “A cop killed him.”

  Madison didn’t say anything. To Cousins, it was just a cop, but to her, she knew there was no way Benson would have taken the shot unless he had no choice. “Your friend held a gun on him.” Madison didn’t know that for certain, but she was willing to defend her colleague. He’d have matched force against his threat assessment.

  “That’s what you say, lady.” Cousins glanced back at Terry, who was now jingling his change.

  “Did you shoot Officer Weir?” she asked.

  “Who’s that?”

  “You’re going to play dumb? He was the officer gunned down yesterday morning at Rico’s Gas Station. He was a husband and a father of three daughters.”

  Cousins looked at her blankly. “How sad.”

  It was taking all Madison’s willpower not to strangle this guy. His indifference to Barry’s murder stole her breath and ratcheted her adrenaline.

  “I’ll tell you what’s sad…” Madison stood and walked around the table, thinking through her next move, and figured it was best to strike where it would be the most personal for Cousins. “Your uncle’s been brought in.”

  Cousins straightened up. “For what? He didn’t do anything.”

  Madison smirked. “But you did.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I never said that.”

  “Huh.” Madison’s turn to remain quiet for a bit.

  Cousins watched her walk around the room.

  “Maybe you’d like a coffee?” she asked, looking from Cousins to the table in front of him. “We could get you a coffee.”

  “What are you doing?” Cousins pointed a finger at her. “Playing mind games with me?”

  “No, not at all.” Madison looked at Terry and spoke to him. “I love starting my day off with coffee. If I don’t have one, nothing in my day goes right.”

  “Yeah, I agree with—”

  “I didn’t kill the cop!” Cousins blurted out, interrupting Terry.

  Madison turned serious again and looked at Cousins. “You’re going to prison for a very long time.” She let her eyes lock with his and held the eye contact for a space of about thirty seconds.

  “I should get a lawyer.”

  She could read it in his eyes, the emptiness of his threat. “Maybe. But you won’t.”

  “Oh yeah? Why won’t I?”

  “You’re innocent. That’s what you’re claiming, right?”

  “Yeah, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Don’t hmm me. I didn’t kill anyone.” Cousins’s gaze met Madison’s briefly before he looked away.

  “We know your uncle’s vehicle was used in the shooting. Did he give it to you?” Madison looked at Terry. “Or maybe it wasn’t Russell who was driving. It could have been his uncle.”

  “No,” Cousins growled.

  “Then change our minds, because once my mind gets set…”

  “SWAT storms in, kills people—kills Russ—drags me out like a criminal, and…” He paused, not from emotion over losing a friend, it seemed, but more to gather his thoughts.

  “We’re after the shooter,” she stated calmly. Time to retrace and approach things another way. Do her best to relate, see if she could get him to feel like she was on his side somehow. “You give us his name and maybe we can work something out.” Not that she had any intention of following through on those words. Promises made to criminals were nothing more than tools to extract what she needed.

  “You’re going to give me a deal? But I haven’t done anything.”

  “Is that really the story you want to stick to?” she asked, looking him in the eye.

  “My uncle wasn’t involved. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. Cop killers are worshiped in prison. I’d…” A shiver of fear rippled through Cousins’s eyes. It made Madison think of the young man who would have faced jail time for shoplifting, how scared he must have been then. Cousins was more bravado than he was actual grit.

  “That’s what you think? You might want a few minutes to reconsider.” Cousins might be respected by his fellow inmates, but the prison guards would make his life hell.

  Cousins’s eyes snapped to hers, but the action wasn’t out of disrespect. It was fear.

  “I see that the truth is sinking in. Trust me when I tell you it won’t go well for you on the inside.”

  “Please, I’m too young to—”

  “The name of the shooter,” Madison spat.

  “And we’ll have a deal? You’ll put in a good word and lessen my sentence?”

  Madison managed to suppress a smile. He was obviously guilty of something, so she played along. “Talk to us.”

  “Russ drove…or so he told me afterward. I wish I’d never even gotten involved.”

  Madison’s impulse was to jump on Cousins’s words, but something told her to hold back.

  “I’m so stupid thinking that I can even be some tough guy.” The front that Cousins had put up since they’d come into the room was quickly disappearing in front of them.

  He lowered his head, and tears filled his eyes. “I took my uncle’s car, yeah.”

  “Did he know about it? Why you took it?”

  Terry stopped jingling the change in his pocket, and the room fell silent.

  Cousins scanned her eyes. “No! No, he didn’t. Stop trying to involve him.” Cousins jumped in his seat. “He had no idea. I didn’t really know what was going on, either.”

  Madison narrowed her eyes. She was definitely entering the bitchy phase of exhaustion. “Really?”

  “I mean it.” Cousins seemed to calm himself down and then continued. “He let me borrow the car. He’s always believed in me.”

  It took everything Madison had not to say something that would come across as snide and clam the guy right up. “Tell us what you did with his car, why your uncle has the plates for it but it’s nowhere to be found,” she said with surprising restraint.

  “I don’t know where it is.”

  “You what?” Her voice raised a few octaves, and Cousins pulled back.

  He held up a hand for mercy. “I made a deal with someone.” Seeming remorse coated each of his words.

  Madison just stared at him, wanting him to continue talking.

  “I got word from some guy. He was looking for a car, a
gun, and some bullets.”

  And here comes another version of the It wasn’t me story…

  “He said there was five thousand in it if I could arrange things,” Cousins continued.

  “Okay, so you gave this guy your uncle’s BMW, his Glock, and some bullets in exchange for five thousand bucks? Am I understanding this correctly? And your uncle went along with it?” Brown must have, seeing as he had the plates.

  He let out a deep sigh. “Yeah. I had bills to pay. Phil’s really too good to me…”

  “We’ll need this guy’s name and where to find him,” she said, though she wasn’t buying his story. Why wouldn’t Brown just lend Cousins the money?

  “Uh, that’s going to be a problem.”

  Madison crossed her arms. “And why’s that?”

  “I don’t know him.”

  “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

  Cousins’s eyes drifted to the table but popped up to meet Madison’s gaze. “We texted, but I deleted the messages. You guys can recover them, right?”

  His phone would have been taken when he was booked. “Possibly. When was it?” Madison wasn’t even ready to give herself over to believing him, but it couldn’t hurt to look into it. “You can trust me.”

  “Trust cops? Are you kidding me?”

  “Have it your way.” Madison went for the door.

  “No, wait.” He sighed. “Fine. It was last Thursday.”

  -

  Chapter 41

  MADISON MADE A CALL TO CYNTHIA to retrieve Cousins’s cell phone and see if she could find the deleted messages and trace the sender. But updates went both ways, and the one she received back from Cynthia had Madison’s stomach swirling.

  “What is it? You look like someone—” Terry didn’t finish the sentence when she looked him in the eye.

  “Sam’s finished firing the rounds from the Glocks collected from the Hellions.”

  “And?”

  She let out a deep breath. “None of them were a match.” And surprisingly, it wasn’t the fact that they didn’t have the murder weapon that was affecting her the most. “What a senseless loss of life.”