by L. A. Witt
It took every ounce of self-control I had not to snicker. The horror on Corliss’s face just then must have been priceless, but I didn’t dare turn around to see.
Jake looked to me again. “I’m not playing your games. That shit wasn’t mine, and—”
“Here’s the deal, Jake.” I stood and leaned over my hands on the table to loom above him. I already had a few inches on him anyway, and was using every last one to my advantage. As he drew back, gulping, I said, “It’s not up to me to decide if that powder was yours. Unless you can prove it’s not”—I shrugged—“I have to assume it is, and I’m going to charge you with felony possession.”
His eyes were huge. “But I—”
I put a hand up. “Then it’s up to the DA to decide. And if she’s not feeling particularly charitable toward someone with an established pattern of possession, well . . .” I made a dismissive gesture before planting my hand on the table again. “You’re going to be doing time. A lot of time. Am I clear?”
He clenched his jaw. “I want a lawyer.”
Corliss moved behind me, and I put up a hand. Never taking my eyes off Jake, I said, “Wait.”
“He wants a lawyer,” Corliss said coldly.
“Yeah. I know he does.” I turned around. “And I’m not quite ready to throw the poor kid to the wolves yet. Are you?”
Corliss narrowed his eyes.
Jake’s chair creaked. “What do you mean, throw me to the wolves?”
I faced him again. “Listen, we both know how this city treats junkies and dealers, right?”
He nodded slowly.
“Right. And this isn’t your first time being brought in on possession. In my line of work, we call that a pattern.”
His jaw went slack. “What? Man, I told you, that shit isn’t—”
“Then start talking,” I growled. “You have two choices here, kid. One, you want that lawyer, so this meeting is over and you’re in the hands of the legal system. You know, the same one that booked your brother for twelve years for selling weed.”
Jake wrung his hands on the table. “What’s my other choice?”
“Your other choice is you do some talking. You tell me what I want to know.”
He narrowed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest, probably so I wouldn’t notice how much they were shaking. Too late.
“You’re bluffing,” he said. “Just like the fucker who did my brother in. You’re just going to throw me in prison one way or the other, so what do I care if you get what you want?”
“Ruffner.” Corliss stepped closer. “We have to get him a lawyer.”
“Not yet.” I held Jake’s gaze. “You still want that lawyer, Jake? Or do you want a shot at not doing hard time for some powder in your underwear drawer?”
His Adam’s apple jumped again. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and sweat gleamed along his hairline. For a moment, I thought he might cry.
Then he set his jaw. “What do you want?”
Slowly, eyes never leaving his, I sat back down and folded my hands again. “I want Blake, and I want the people he’s answering to.”
Some color drained from Jake’s face. “I don’t know where he is. Nobody does.”
“No, but you know his chain of command. You know people who do know where he is.” I leaned forward. “I want names, I want locations, and I want every fucking thing you know about how these people are connected to him. Especially the people above him.”
He broke eye contact and fidgeted. Arms folded tightly across his chest, he gnawed his lip, twitching like a jonesing junkie.
I sighed. “All right. I’m done. Corliss, get him his lawyer and—”
“Wait!” Jake deflated. “Okay. Okay. But I want something from you.”
I said nothing, but held his gaze and waited for him to go on.
He glanced at Corliss, fidgeting nervously. To me, he said, “Blake’s people—they know where my girlfriend and son live. They’ve told me a million times if I talk to the police, they’ll . . .” What little color remained slipped out of his face. “Man, this is my kid.”
“I can make arrangements. Tell me where they are, and I’ll make sure they’re all right.”
“No bullshit? Nobody will find them?”
“I’ll do everything I can.”
“Like, witness protection?”
I nodded. “Help me out, and I’ll send you with them.” The guys at the US Marshals office would be thrilled that I was sending more people their way, but they owed me some favors, so fuck ’em.
“Okay.” Jake took a deep breath. “I’ll talk.”
Almost two hours later, Corliss and I stepped out of the interrogation room. On the legal tablet in my hand were several pages of detailed information that I’d been trying to get my hands on for months. Names of people connected to the drug ring and the coveted people on high. Just as I’d suspected, everything happening was way above Vincent Blake’s pay grade. Jake didn’t know all the names, but he gave me more than I’d had. It was a damn good start after weeks of spinning my tires.
“How the hell does he know all of that?” Corliss asked. “I thought he was just some two-bit junkie or delivery boy.”
“No. He’s a lot higher on the food chain than he’d like anyone to know.”
“But how did you know?”
“Got a tip from an informant a while back. Jake’s always been pretty good at keeping his fingerprints off things and making himself look like a small fish. That’s why it took so fucking long to get a search warrant.”
Corliss held my gaze, his features taut, but he didn’t push. The questions were in his eyes. He wasn’t stupid. Definitely smarter than I’d given him credit for. That could be a good thing or a bad thing for me: stupid could get me killed, but smart could get me hemmed up.
He cleared his throat. “So what now?”
“Now, I hold up my end of the deal and get in touch with the Marshals about putting Jake and his family under protection.” I tapped the notepad in my hand. “Then we start following up on these leads until we collar Blake and his superiors.”
“I thought he was the kingpin, though.”
“You’re supposed to think that.”
“Oh.” Corliss’s eyes lost focus. He seemed rattled. Like a rookie after his first time dodging bullets on a routine call gone bad. At some point during the interview with Jake, the hostility had vanished in favor of this uneasiness, as if he’d put the pieces together and realized that regardless of how I’d gotten Jake into that interrogation room, I was getting answers out of him.
He exhaled. “So, um. What should I do?”
I’d recommend having a drink.
I was about to suggest that he could look up some of the addresses Jake had provided and make sure they were legit, but right then Officer Huan appeared beside us.
“Hey, Detective,” he said to Corliss, and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “Captain wants to see you in his office.”
Shit. That’s not good.
“Oh. Um.” Corliss glanced at me.
I nodded.
“Okay,” Corliss said. “I’ll be right there.”
Huan shot me a glare before he walked off.
“Go,” I said. “I need to call the Marshals office anyway.”
“All right.” Corliss and I locked eyes for a long, uneasy moment. Then, without a word, he left.
Thumbing the tablet in my hand, I chewed the inside of my cheek. I had no doubt what was going on. Huan had almost certainly gone straight to Hamilton and told him about the exchange Corliss and I had after I’d come out of Jake’s bedroom with the pack of heroin.
Now would be a good time to prove you won’t throw your partner under the bus, Corliss.
My steps dragged as I made my way to Captain Hamilton’s office. It wasn’t even noon yet and I was already in trouble. That had to be some sort of record. Probably even Ruffner hadn’t managed to land himself in hot water this fast after getting promoted to detective. N
ot that it was my goddamn fault.
I hadn’t missed the heroin. I knew that. I’d searched enough people, cars, and houses during my years on the beat to learn the importance of being thorough. So either Ruffner was lying about where he’d found it in the room, or . . . shit. I didn’t want to get into the or.
But this was what I’d been told to do―watch out for Ruffner’s shady behavior. There wasn’t much shadier than producing drugs out of thin air and pinning them on a guy who insisted he was being framed. That and not immediately going for a lawyer when Jake said he wanted one. I’d spent too many years listening to Asher bitch about due process to take that without blinking.
Marla shook her head as I walked up. “Jesus, Darren, you didn’t waste any time raising hell, did you?”
I tried for a smile. Judging from the skeptical look on her face, she didn’t buy it. “In my defense, I had help.”
“That’s a terrible defense.”
“Marla, set Corliss loose already, I need to talk to him now!” Captain Hamilton called out.
She pursed her lips but nodded. “You heard him. Go grovel.”
“In these pants? Never.” That got a reluctant smile from her, but nobody was smiling once I walked inside the office.
“Shut the door and sit down.”
I obeyed. Hamilton folded his hands on the desk and stared at me from under his bushy eyebrows for a long moment. I resisted the urge to drum my fingers against the armrests of the chair.
“What the hell happened at Carter’s place?”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Don’t get smart with me,” Hamilton growled. “Officer Huan reported that you and Ruffner had an argument about where he found the drugs that were used to justify bringing Carter in. It sounds like things got heated. I want to know what really happened.”
This was it. This was the fork in the road, two possible futures splitting off in opposite directions. If I told Hamilton what I thought had happened, he’d have Thibedeau back down here in under a minute. It would be the beginning of the end of my partnership with Ruffner, and I’d be just one more in a long line of people who hadn’t been able to hack it with the guy. Possibly the last one, depending on what they found out when they dug deeper. Did I want to do that? Was I ready to throw more fuel onto Internal Affairs’ bonfire?
“I made a mistake.”
Hamilton frowned. Looked like I’d surprised him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I should have been more thorough in my search of Carter’s room. I must have missed the drugs, and then I reacted badly when Detective Ruffner retrieved them. It was unprofessional, and I apologize.”
“I’ve never known you to miss evidence before.”
“Rough morning,” I said with a grimace I didn’t even have to fake. “Mom sent me a message about Asher.”
Hamilton sighed. “Damn it, Darren. You can’t let yourself get distracted in the field by what’s going on at home, you know that. Victor can handle it. That’s what he’s there for.” The captain was one of the few people who knew the real reason my stepfather had retired when he did. My mother couldn’t deal with my brother’s bad days on her own anymore. “Your partner―and I can’t believe I’m saying this about Ruffner, given his track record―needs to be able to depend on you. You can’t fuck up the trust between you two, not for no good reason.” Like Internal Affairs, he didn’t quite say.
“You’re totally right.”
“No more fuckups.”
“No more.” I slashed a quick X over my chest. “Cross my heart.”
“What are you, five? Just don’t do it again.”
“I won’t.” We stared at each other for a moment. “Are we done here, sir?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He sat back and waved me away. “Get back to work.”
Music to my ears. I stood up and left with a little nod to Marla, who looked relieved. What had she been expecting, that I’d be fired?
No, I needed to be smart about this. Like him or not, Ruffner had gotten information from Jake that might lead to the arrest of one of the city’s most notorious drug dealers. It had the potential to be a huge operation, and I wanted in on the ground floor. I hadn’t worked my ass off to become a detective so that I could sit on the sidelines.
I didn’t believe that Ruffner was telling me everything. I couldn’t, not after I knew I hadn’t missed that heroin. But I also didn’t believe he was the devil that IA thought he was, and I wasn’t about to go crying to Thibedeau without rock-solid evidence. I needed to work on building a rapport with Ruffner, as hair-pullingly awful as that was going to be.
I’d start with a peace offering.
Ruffner’s desk wasn’t hard to find. It was set back in a corner of the bull pen, close to the doors. The only other desk anywhere near it was mostly bare, with just a computer and a tray for files on top of it. Mine, I supposed. Even though my day had started off bad and gotten worse, I smiled. I had my own desk. That was so cool.
Ruffner looked up just in time to catch the Snickers bar I lobbed at him. He glanced from it to me, his perma-glare turned on high. “What the hell’s this?”
“It’s a candy bar. I thought you might have low blood sugar,” I said as I pulled out my chair. “Judging from your dizzy spell earlier.” I sat down, and the chair immediately listed to the side. Shit, it was missing a wheel. Great.
“I don’t have low blood sugar.” He tossed the bar back to me.
“That’s good to know.” I threw it at him again. “Keep it anyway, it’s delicious. Lunch of champions.”
“A Snickers bar isn’t a fucking lunch.” Nevertheless, he put it down on his desk. I considered it a win. “You’re worse than my kids.”
Ooh, there was an opening, but I didn’t have time to grab it.
“So.” Ruffner sat back in his chair. “Should I be expecting a call from the captain?”
“I don’t know. Does he usually call you at lunchtime?”
“Don’t be a fucking smart-ass, Corliss. You know what I’m asking about.”
Yeah, I guess I did. “He won’t be calling you.”
Judging from the way his brow went up, I’d actually managed to surprise him. “Is that right?”
“Yep. I’ve always been really good at owning up to mistakes,” I said brightly. Even when they’re not mine. “I’m not so sure that you are, though.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’d like to know why you almost fell over when chasing after a suspect.” I held up a hand before he could shout at me. “I don’t need the details. That’s your business. I just need to know what to expect in the future so I won’t look for you when chasing down a suspect and find you collapsed on the pavement half a block away.”
Ruffner’s eyes looked tired. “I’ve got it under control.”
“Really?” I didn’t expect my prodding to work, but to my surprise, he didn’t tell me to fuck off.
“I’m getting it under control,” Ruffner clarified. “If for some reason I don’t manage to soon, I’ll let you know.” He smirked. “If you’re still around by then.”
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere.” I carefully shifted around so that my chair tilted upright again. “How’d the call to the Marshals go?”
“Fine. They’re moving Carter’s family into protective custody. Carter’ll go with them once I’m sure we’ve got all we need from him.”
“No issues with the DA’s office on that?”
“Not if his leads pan out. They know how to prioritize their targets, and Blake is the biggest target around these days.”
“Maybe he is,” I said. “Or maybe not. You said his people have been going missing, right?”
“Missing or dead.”
“How were they killed?”
“For the most part? Execution style.” Ruffner raised a hand and sighted along it like he was pointing a gun at me. “Pow. Single shot to the head.”
I frowned. “Jesus, this isn’
t New York or Chicago. Since when have we had Mafia-style killings here?”
“Gangs don’t have to be the Mafia to run themselves professionally, although the smart guys organize them that way. You heard Jake―Blake’s people have been keeping tabs on his family. If he steps out of line, they pay the price. When you’ve got leverage on everyone, all you’ve got to do is maintain the balance to get them to do what you want.”
He was right. That was part of what made the drugs he’d found at Jake’s place so strange. The guy was used to being careful—he had to be, to keep his family safe. For him to jeopardize them by keeping heroin in his house, if not in his fucking underwear drawer . . .
Something didn’t add up. But I’d never figure out what that was if I didn’t play along. “It sounds like a lot of his people might be caught between a rock and a hard place.”
Ruffner’s expression darkened. “It’s still their fault. At some point they made a bad decision, and they get to deal with the fallout. Nobody can just wish that shit away.”
“But you’d be willing to offer more of these people a deal if they get us closer to Blake.”
Ruffner shrugged. “It depends on what they give us. I can’t protect everybody like I am Jake. A lot of these guys, they’re scum, murderers. They wouldn’t take a deal even if I did offer it, and I’d rather see most of them laid out on a fucking slab.”
Holy shit. “There’s not a lot of middle ground in you, is there?”
“There’s no such thing as a middle ground most of the time. You either shoot or get shot. You take them down, or they take you down. I haven’t survived almost twenty years as a detective by giving criminals the benefit of a doubt.” He sounded grim. I guess I couldn’t blame him. Still . . .
“But you think more of them might be willing to talk?”
“Maybe.” He tapped the list. “Let’s find out.”
For a solid hour after Corliss came out of Captain Hamilton’s office, I was on edge. As we cross-referenced names and information from Jake’s statement, I was so convinced my phone was going to ring, I practically hallucinated the sound.
