by L. A. Witt
Captain Hamilton’s door opened with a sudden bang, and both Marla and I started as we turned to look at him. His shoulders were so broad they barely fit inside the doorframe, but from the way they seemed to slump, he was already tired. “Corliss, get in here!” One of the chairs in front of his desk was already occupied. Was that Detective Ruffner? “And Marla, I need—”
“Decaf only until noon,” she said, sharp eyes flashing at him. “Or do we need to have a talk about the results of your last physical where everyone can hear it?”
Hamilton sighed. “Fine.”
“And if you shatter that door’s glass again, I am not going to be held responsible for my actions.”
This time he winced. “Sorry about that.” His vaguely apologetic expression evaporated as soon as he focused on me. “Corliss, inside.”
I followed him in and shut the door behind us—quietly—as he took his place behind his desk.
“Sit.”
I sat in the spare chair, glancing at the man next to me. There was no way this was Andreas Ruffner. I wasn’t going to take shit for wearing a suit from a man sporting a silk pocket square.
“Detective Corliss, this is Detective Thibedeau.” He gestured between us with a scowl. “He’s going to have the pleasure of riding your ass for the next few weeks.”
I frowned, but before I could say anything, Thibedeau chuckled. “Captain, you exaggerate. I’m not here to make things difficult for anyone.”
“Tell that to my blood pressure.”
I took advantage of the pause. “I thought I was being partnered with Detective Ruffner.”
“You are,” Thibedeau said. He had his legs crossed and his fingers steepled―a little older and he might have pulled off a Godfather-type demeanor, but instead he came across more like a high-school guidance counselor. “Before you two start working together, though, there are a few extenuating circumstances you should be aware of.”
“Thibedeau’s with Internal Affairs,” Captain Hamilton interjected. He didn’t look happy about it.
Less than an hour into my new position, and I was already having a meeting with IA? Fuck me.
Not that I let any of my consternation show. I was a champion of resting nice-face. I crossed my legs to match my interrogator, then looked at Thibedeau. “What sort of things should I be aware of?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard some of the rumors going around the department about Ruffner.”
“No,” I said. I didn’t even have to play dumb for this part―I’d been so busy busting my ass to make detective that I’d consciously tuned out any and all gossip for months. “I mean, I hear that he can be a little difficult to get along with―”
“He’s goes through partners like paper targets,” Thibedeau said. “No one manages to stick around him for very long, and we’d really like to know why.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, Ruffner is and always has been an asshole?” Captain Hamilton said wearily. “He’s also closed more cases than any other detective on the force.”
“He’s also flouted regulations, exhibited poor anger management skills, and has been observed engaging in suspicious behavior both on and off duty.”
I had the feeling I’d been shoved into the middle of an argument that had been going on for a long time. “What’s that got to do with me?” I asked, redirecting their attention off each other and back to me. Brows smoothed out, tense mouths softened slightly. It was my Bambi eyes; they were killers.
“We just want you to keep an eye on your new partner, Darren—can I call you Darren?” He kept going before I could tell him no. “Detective Ruffner has a proven track record in the department, but his methods have always been unorthodox, and the fact that he can’t keep a partner doesn’t speak well of his ability to adapt. No one in this force is an island, and no one can go without oversight. How else can we safeguard the public’s faith in us?”
He checked his watch, then stood up. “You and I will meet later this week for a casual discussion about what you’ve observed working with your new partner. You’ve come very far, very fast, Darren.” He smiled at me. I could practically see my reflection in his teeth. “I’d like to help you continue that arc.”
I shook the hand he extended. “Sir,” I said, as neutrally as possible. Thibedeau left, seeming to take extra care not to let the door slam, and I locked eyes with Captain Hamilton. For just a second, rank fell away, and he was the guy who had picked me up off the ground after my brother told me if I jumped off the swing set wearing a cape, I would fly. “What the hell?”
He sighed. “I know it’s irregular, kid, but we have to go along with it for now.”
“What’s he expecting me to figure out in just a few days? Even if Ruffner is up to something,” and holy shit, I really hoped he wasn’t, but, “he’s been a detective for over a decade. He knows how to cover his tracks.”
“I wasn’t lying when I said that Ruffner is the best closer on this force.” Hamilton looked like he’d bitten into an unripe persimmon. “But he’s not perfect. He makes waves sometimes when he shouldn’t, and he can’t keep a partner to save his life. And that worries me, not just because it might end up with him on a slab. I think he’s hiding something.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what it is. For what it’s worth, I give Ruffner a lot of leeway because I know he can get the job done, but he needs a partner. He needs someone to have his back.”
The look he shot me spoke volumes: Ruffner needed someone to have his back not just in the field, but in the office. “And if there’s something there after all? Then we need to know that too.”
“Got it,” I said quietly. Captain Hamilton dropped his gaze down to his files, and the moment passed. We were back to being boss and underling.
“He’s not gonna make it easy on you, either.” There was a suspicious gleam in Hamilton’s eyes, like he was amused but trying not to let on. “If you can survive being partnered with Detective Ruffner, nobody will say another word about you being too young for the job.”
I’d overheard some of those conversations. Never mind that I’d joined up straight out of college, or that I’d worked my beat for seven solid years—two more than required by the department—before taking the exam. I was the stepson of a revered cop and I had unfortunately youthful features: clearly, my success was all the result of nepotism. “I can do it.”
“I hope you can.”
The intercom buzzed. “Captain, Detective Ruffner is on his way up.”
Captain Hamilton rubbed his fingers against his temple. I tried not to take that as a bad sign. “Send him in.”
On the way up the stairs to meet Hamilton and my new partner, I passed Thibedeau. I knew that motherfucker well, and I didn’t like seeing him here. I didn’t like him, but no one from Internal Affairs came up this way unless they were talking to Hamilton, which meant he’d just come from Hamilton’s office.
Wow. I hadn’t even met the new kid, and he was already in IA’s pocket.
Good to know, assholes.
At the top of the stairs, I stopped, ostensibly to lean against the wall and check my phone. The new pills I was taking made me dizzy as fuck, especially after going up a flight of stairs, and I’d already blacked out twice this week. No point in pushing it, so I stood there as casually as I could, pretending to care what was on my screen until the sparkling faded from the edges of my vision. Hopefully that particular side effect would wear off soon—I didn’t need it happening at an inopportune moment. Like, say, a foot chase or a struggle to disarm a suspect.
When I was steady, I continued toward Hamilton’s office.
“Well hello, Detective,” Marla chirped from behind her desk. “How are you, sweetheart?”
“Depends on who my new babysitter is.”
She laughed. “He’s in with the boss now.” She gestured toward Hamilton’s office. “They’re waiting for you.”
“Of course they are.”
I didn’t bother knocking. Hamilton hated it
when I did that, which was exactly why I did it.
“Ah, there he is.” Hamilton plastered on a grin and leaned back in his chair. “Corliss, meet your new partner—the infamous Andreas Ruffner. Ruffner, this is Detective Darren Corliss.”
Corliss stood and extended his hand.
I didn’t reciprocate. As I nudged the door shut behind me, I sized him up. He did have one edge over my previous partners-slash-babysitters: he was not hard on the eyes. Almost as tall as I was, so probably six one or so. Built like he made religious use of a gym membership. Bit of a baby face, which made me wonder how many dicks he’d sucked to make it through the ranks as quickly as he had; he couldn’t have been more than thirty. Maybe a little older if he came from one of those families where everyone kept paintings in the attic and looked twenty until they were sixty.
I eyed his extended hand like he’d offered me a bag of shit. “Corliss, eh? As in—”
“Yes, my stepdad is Commissioner Corliss.” He narrowed his eyes a bit and withdrew his hand. “Well, was.”
“Was? I hadn’t heard that he’d passed.”
“He retired, Andreas,” Hamilton said with no shortage of irritation.
I bit back a comment about it being a shame the man was still kicking. I did have to ride around with his kid for the foreseeable future, after all. “Well, if you’re the son of Commissioner Corliss, I guess there’s no need for this introduction, is there?”
“Stepson,” he said. “And no, I can’t say he ever mentioned your name to me. Why? Should he have?”
I started to answer, but the boss beat me to it. “Sit down, Ruffner. You too, Corliss.”
My new partner and I exchanged glares as we took our seats. I had to admit, he was ballsier than his predecessors. Most of them seemed nervous when they first met me. That usually wore off in short order. Once they realized my reputation for being an asshole was no exaggeration, they went from nervous to exasperated, and that was fine by me. The sooner they got sick of me, the sooner they were back in here begging Hamilton to be reassigned.
Hamilton had played a wild card this time, though. Corliss was the stepson of a man who blamed me for a significant portion of his gray hair, assuming he had any of it left. While my partner apparently hadn’t heard my name, he wasn’t nervous or intimidated.
Of course he’s got brass balls—they belong to IA. Along with his eyes and ears.
Just what I need.
Hamilton cleared his throat. “You two can get to know each other while you’re out on the streets. All you need to know right now is that you’re both top-notch cops, and if you can work together”—he shot me a warning glare—“then this will work out nicely.”
“We’ll see about that,” I grumbled.
Corliss said nothing.
Hamilton rubbed his forehead, probably exhausted from refereeing the two of us. Then he dropped his hand to his desk. “All right. What’s on your docket today, Ruffner?”
I fought the urge to steal a glance at Corliss. “I’ve got a lead on someone who’s working with one of the kingpins downtown. Going to see if I can squeeze a few answers out of him.”
Hamilton scowled. “And by squeeze a few answers—”
“By the book, Captain.” I smiled sweetly. “Of course.”
Beside me, Corliss fidgeted, but he didn’t speak.
The captain gave his forehead another rub. “You’re on thin ice after that last stunt you pulled. Do not test me, Detective.”
Corliss cleared his throat. “Uh, what stunt?”
“Never mind,” I growled.
“No. If I’m going to be out there with you, I’d like to know what I’m up against.”
I turned to him. “Does it matter?”
That baby face didn’t seem quite so babyish as he glared right back at me. “It does when ‘stunts’ happen in an environment that can get a partner killed.”
“Gentlemen . . .”
We held each other’s gazes for a moment, then turned back to the captain.
“Look.” He put up his hands. “You two don’t have to like each other, but you will work together. Ruffner, that means playing by the book. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“And Corliss, even if he does do something reckless and stupid, he’s your partner. Don’t get yourself killed, but have his back. Understood?”
Corliss hesitated. Then, “Yes, sir.” He said it with just as much enthusiasm as I had.
Well, wasn’t this going to be fun?
The captain dismissed us, and we walked in silence toward the stairs. That silence lingered until we were on the landing, and then the bastard spoke just before we started down the next flight.
“That was a pleasant introduction.” He didn’t even try to hide the sarcasm.
I halted on the landing. So did he. We faced each other, and without the captain here to moderate, there was nothing tempering Corliss’s hostile suspicion.
He folded his arms. “You want to tell me what ‘stunt’ the captain was referring to?”
“It was all blown out of proportion.” I started toward the steps again. “Now let’s get downtown and—”
He stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Hey. Answer my question.”
I glanced at his hand, then stared him dead in the eye.
Oh, it’s gonna be like this, huh?
Shrugging out of his grasp, I faced him fully, and couldn’t decide if I was impressed or annoyed that he didn’t draw back.
“You know, before we head out on the road,” I said, “let’s maybe get a couple of things straight between us.”
He folded his arms again and held eye contact without the slightest flinch. “All right.”
“You’re joining me on my investigations,” I said through clenched teeth. “Which means we do shit my way. You’re the kid. I’m—”
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” He rolled his eyes and dropped his arms to his sides. “I had this conversation seven years ago with my FTO. Let me see if I still remember.” He glared at me as he ticked off points on his fingers. “I’ll call you ‘sir,’ you’re in charge, you’re going to remind me at every turn that I’m a stupid fucking kid, you’re—”
“And you’re going to report everything I say and do back to IA.”
That prompted a slight but noticeable flinch. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Do I look stupid to you?”
He cleared his throat, recovering some of his confident exterior. “Look, Captain Hamilton assigned me to you. I didn’t exactly request—”
“Cut the crap, Corliss. I don’t like having a partner at all, but I especially don’t need a wet-behind-the-ears kid for a babysitter. Partners have to trust each other.”
“Yeah?” He swallowed. “So why don’t you start by trusting me?”
“Because I know IA was in there with you and the captain before I came in.”
Another flinch. Subtler than before, but not subtle enough to slip past me. “So, what? You think I told them where you’re keeping your secret weapons stash? Where you buried Jimmy Hoffa?” Despite his momentary loss of confidence, the arrogant little shit smirked. “I just met you. What would you expect me to tell—”
“It’s not what you told them,” I growled. “I know they’re investigating me. Unofficially, of course.” I stepped closer, and though he kept his feet planted, he leaned back a satisfying inch. “So let’s be clear right now: if I can’t trust you to have my back, if you’re going to be too busy watching me and taking notes, then this isn’t going to work.”
“Then why don’t you start by telling me what the fuck has you on thin ice with the department? Because if I can’t trust you out there, then I will happily go back up there”—he gestured sharply up the stairs—“and ask to be reassigned. I don’t give two shits if you’re the asshole everyone says you are. I just want to know, here and now, if you’re going to play by the book, or if you’re going to get me killed.”
I blinked. This was
definitely not the breed of partner I’d had in the past.
Before I could speak, he snarled, “You obviously don’t like me already. So tell me now, how do I know you’ll have my back?”
“Because you’re my partner.”
“Yeah? So?”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Or, failing that, grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. “You know how many partners I’ve had, Detective?”
“Eleven is the last count, I think.”
“Twelve. And do you know how many of them have been injured or killed on my watch?”
He gulped. “Uh . . .”
“None.” I reached for my hip, and he flinched. “Relax, idiot. I’m not going for my gun.”
He eyed me uncertainly, and he sure as hell didn’t relax.
I tugged my shirt free from my waistband, and lifted it just enough to reveal the long, jagged scar above my belt. “You want to know how that happened?”
He nodded.
“My ‘partner’ was too busy keeping an eye on me and didn’t notice our suspect was armed.”
Corliss’s eyes widened.
“He missed a six-inch hunting knife.” I pointed emphatically at the scar. “The six-inch hunting knife didn’t miss me.”
“So, how does that answer my question?”
“Because it wasn’t the first time that partner nearly got me killed by focusing more on me than the situation. But even after he got me fucking stabbed, I saved his ass three months later.” The memory made my skin crawl, but I forced my voice to remain solid. “He lost his situational awareness and was about to take a bullet to the back, but I took the guy out first. I had to fucking kill someone, and that someone had key information that would have helped my investigation.” I tucked in my shirt. “I had to kill someone, Detective, because I was watching my partner’s back even after he’d failed to watch mine and nearly got me killed.” I leaned in closer, deliberately encroaching on Corliss’s personal space. “Does that answer your question?”
