by L. A. Witt
After we’d set everything up for her, Judge Harrison agreed that once Crawford and Trent were in custody, she’d testify against them and name drop every dirty judge in the state to go down with them. With Judge Harrison in our pocket, we were golden.
Blake had been his typical difficult self to reach, but I’d finally gotten him on the line late this evening. Tomorrow night, we’d meet with him. He wasn’t thrilled about my partner seeing his face, but he’d deal with it. Nobody had time to be picky right now. Which was also why Darren and I couldn’t afford to hold out until we had warrants for everyone who worked for Crawford. Arresting Crawford and Trent would be a crippling blow. A lethal one if we didn’t give the organization time to get their shit together.
Where could we do this? How? Did we set up an entire warehouse and make it appear to Trent that Crawford was running another shop without giving him a cut? Convince Crawford that Trent was meeting with a hitman to have him killed? A million scenarios rattled through my head. The smaller the operation, the less opportunity for innocent bloodshed, but also the less likely Crawford himself would show up. He had to believe that he and only he could deal with this, and that he needed to deal with it in person.
Blake. Blake would know. Like nobody else, I reminded myself, he understood the inner workings of the organization. He and his brother—who was also safely in witness protection—would know how to flush out both men.
I wiped a hand over my face and exhaled.
“You still awake?” Darren murmured.
“Can’t sleep.” I turned my head, searching for his silhouette in the darkness. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
“Eh.” He rolled over and draped his arm across my stomach. “I’d offer to fuck you to sleep, but . . .” A second later, he was snoring again.
I chuckled and kissed his forehead. “Tease.” Eyes closed, I tried to keep my mind off the mission and instead focused on the warmth of Darren’s body against mine. Maybe I was too tired for sex, but I was not too tired to enjoy finally having someone to sleep next to for the first time in too long.
Running my fingers through his hair, I smiled into the darkness. I still resented the shit out of Captain Hamilton’s insistence on sending partners to babysit me, but I had to admit—it had worked out pretty damn nicely this time.
Eventually, I drifted off, but it seemed like I’d barely shut my eyes before my phone chirped to life. I blinked a few times. The goddamned sun wasn’t even up. Feeling around, I muttered, “You fucking kidding me?”
“Who the hell is calling?” Darren grumbled into his pillow.
“I don’t—” But then my groggy brain cleared enough to recognize the ringtone, and I was suddenly wide awake. I snatched the phone off the bedside table and sat up. “Hey, kiddo.”
“Hey, Dad,” my oldest daughter, Erin, said. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
“Hmm?” I rubbed my eyes. “No. No. I was . . . getting ready for work.” My heart was thumping—any time one of my kids called out of the blue, I immediately expected the worst. “What’s up?”
“Well, I need to come to town for a couple of days. I know it’s kind of on short notice, but can I stay at your place?”
My instant reaction was always to tell her or her siblings they could stay with me, but even I wasn’t staying at my place right now. Too many bullets flying, and potentially with my name on them.
I cleared my throat. “My complex is actually fumigating right now and dealing with some black mold. I’m staying with a friend.” I paused. “But I can pay for a hotel room for you. What’s bringing you to town?”
“An interview for an internship. I guess I was handpicked for it, so it sounds like I’ll get it.”
“Oh really?” I smiled despite my sleepiness. “That’s great!”
“Yeah, I’m excited.” I could practically see her grinning from ear to ear. “It’s definitely not the job I was expecting. I was looking into banks and that kind of thing.”
“So where is this one?”
“It’s at city hall.”
Ice water shot through my veins. “Come again?”
Beside me, Darren sat up.
Erin went on. “Yeah, I don’t know what I’ll be doing yet, but it sounds like I’ll be working in the mayor’s office.”
“Oh.”
Darren put his hand on my leg and mouthed, What’s wrong?
I held up my finger. Just a second.
To Erin, I said, “And, um, when’s the interview?”
“This Thursday.” She clicked her tongue. “I know it’s short notice. Mom said she’d pay for a train ticket as long as I could nail down a place to stay.”
I swallowed hard. My mouth had gone dry. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll . . . I’ll work something out for you. Just . . . email me when you know when your train comes in and how long you’ll be here.”
“Okay. I’ll let you go. Thanks, Dad!”
“Anytime, sweetheart. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
She hung up, and I dropped the phone onto the covers. “Fuck.”
“What’s going on?” Darren asked.
“That was my daughter.” I turned to him. “She’s got an interview at city hall.”
His eyes were suddenly huge. “For what?”
“An internship.” Gritting my teeth, I added, “She was apparently handpicked for it.”
“Isn’t she going to school out of state?”
“Yeah.” I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed my stiff neck. “Fuck. This is Trent. I know it is. Son of a bitch threatened to fuck with my family if we didn’t back off.”
“Jesus. But you’re going to let her do the interview?”
“What can I do? If she doesn’t, he’s going to know for a fact that we’re onto him, and he’ll step up his game.”
“Shit.”
“I’m gonna kill him,” I said through my teeth.
Darren squeezed my shoulder. “No, we’re going to bust him and put him in prison for all the shit he’s involved in. Him and everyone else.”
“He’s fucking with my kids, Darren.”
“I know. And you’ve said yourself we either bring this thing down starting at the roots, or we don’t bring it down at all.”
I closed my eyes and slowly exhaled. “You’re right. You’re right.” Leaning forward, I pressed my fingers into my temples. “I swear to God, though, if anything happens to one of my kids . . .”
“I’ll be right there with you to fuck his world up.” The growl in his voice told me he wasn’t lying.
“Thanks,” was all I could say.
He got up. “Guess we’d better get to work.”
“Yeah. Guess so.”
“I’ll put the coffee on.”
The second we walked into the precinct, I knew something was wrong. Something besides my daughter suddenly being a candidate for an internship at city hall.
It was one thing to catch someone’s eye as I walked past. It was another when conversations stopped and heads turned. In the parking garage, in the elevator, in the hallway—people halted midsentence and stared at Darren and me.
“Do I even want to know what that’s all about?” Darren asked under his breath.
“Probably not, but I have a feeling we’re going to find out anyway.”
“Detective Ruffner!” Captain Hamilton’s voice boomed from stairwell. “My office. Now!”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, that answers at least part of it.”
“Am I coming too?”
“If you want to.” I turned and headed back toward the stairwell where Hamilton was waiting. Darren hesitated for a second, but then he followed.
As we approached, Hamilton glared past me. “This doesn’t concern you, Corliss.”
Darren halted. “Uh . . .”
“Don’t you have work to do?” the captain snarled.
I looked over my shoulder and met his What do I do? gaze. I nodded toward our desks. Darren gulped, but then h
e headed back the way we’d come.
Once my partner was out of earshot, I faced the captain. “What’s going on?”
“My office,” he repeated, and stormed up the steps. He didn’t say another word until he’d slammed the door shut behind us. “Sit down.”
“Where?” Both of the chairs in front of Hamilton’s desk were occupied.
Thibedeau, of course.
And Trent. Oh, wasn’t that a shock?
Should’ve let Darren come up here with me. He might actually stop me from killing this son of a bitch.
I looked back and forth between the two assholes, then turned to the captain. “I guess I’ll stand.”
“I guess you will.” He took his own seat behind his desk.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Detective Newberry came to me with some information that’s a little disturbing.”
It took all the self-control I had not to laugh out loud and tell him that everything I knew about Trent was probably a million times more disturbing. But I needed a poker face right now. This was a man who’d proven his tentacles could reach my kids.
I glanced at him, and his expression offered nothing either. He was as icy and blank as Thibedeau.
“What information?” I asked.
Hamilton sat up, resting his elbows on the desk. “I understand you’ve been taking some . . . medication. During working hours.”
My stomach lurched. “Half the precinct lives on antacids and ibuprofen. Why would I be any different?”
“Prescription ibuprofen?” Thibedeau asked, his voice flat and chilly.
That poker face was getting tougher and tougher to maintain. I guarded my HIV status like a state secret. Though I knew now that no one could fire me for it, that there really weren’t any legal, tangible consequences for people knowing I was positive, it wasn’t something I wanted to advertise. “I wasn’t aware that I needed to inform the department if I was taking—”
“Bullshit,” the captain snapped, catching me completely off guard. “You know damn well the department needs to know if you’re taking narcotics.”
“Narcotics?” I blinked. “I’m not taking any—”
“Detective,” Thibedeau said in the most condescending voice imaginable, “if you’ve got a drug problem, we’re here to help.”
Yeah. Help me find my way to the unemployment line.
“I do not have a drug problem.”
“I saw you taking pills at your locker, Ruffner.” Trent spoke with such concern, he was probably fooling everybody who didn’t know he was a murderer. “Denial isn’t going to help you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Those weren’t narcotics.”
“Then what are they, Detective?” Captain’s patience was clearly down to its last frayed thread. The vein on his forehead was throbbing close to the surface, and the red in his face was beginning to match his nose.
This line of questioning was probably all kinds of illegal, but I didn’t have time to figure out the intricacies of HIPAA and all that shit while IA, a dirty cop, and my boss were waiting for an explanation.
“Fine.” I blew out a breath. “They’re antiretrovirals.”
Thibedeau and Trent exchanged puzzled glances.
Hamilton blinked. “Anti-what now?”
“Antiretrovirals.” My stomach twisted into knots. So much for keeping my status to myself at work. “They’re for—”
“Treating HIV,” Trent helpfully interjected.
I shot him a murderous glare.
“What?” Hamilton shifted in his chair. “Is that true, Ruffner?”
I’m going to choke you with my bare hands, Trent.
“Yes.” I faced him again. “I’m HIV positive. The pills I’ve been taking are to keep that under control.”
Exhaling slowly, he sat back and folded his hands on top of his belt buckle. “And those are the only drugs you’re taking.”
“Yes, Captain.” I hated the heat in my cheeks as much as I hated the men to my left and right. “I’m not taking anything else.”
“Well.” The captain rolled his shoulders. “Apparently this was much ado about—”
“Captain, I know what I saw!” Trent sat up.
Thibedeau sighed impatiently. “How could you tell a pain pill from an antiretroviral?”
“The bottle was sitting on the bench in the locker room,” Trent insisted. “I saw the label, clear as day. It was Dilaudid.”
“That’s horseshit,” I said.
“Detective.” Thibedeau sounded bored now. “We can’t demand access to your locker without a warrant, but if you take us down there now and give us a look, then maybe we can put this whole thing to bed.”
“For fuck’s sake. Fine.” I waved a hand at the door. “Let’s go.” I’d already shown one card I hadn’t wanted to play at work. What was letting them see my locker too?
“All right.” Thibedeau stood. So did the captain.
A little slower, Trent rose, and as he did, our eyes locked for a split second.
And just like this morning when Erin told me she was interviewing at city hall, my blood turned cold.
One by one, they filed out of the captain’s office, and what choice did I have but to follow them? I’d already given them consent to see inside my locker. Technically, I could rescind it and let them get a warrant, but my credibility would be shot.
Downstairs, all our footsteps seemed to echo menacingly on the locker room’s tile floor. Of course, there must’ve been half a dozen other cops in there, and like everyone else in the building today, they stared.
Dread twisted my gut into knots as we approached my locker, and I’d never had to fight this hard to keep my expression blank. It was entirely possible Trent was fucking with me. He wanted me to lift the veil on some paranoia. Even when my locker came up clean, Hamilton and Thibedeau would have every reason to expect I was hiding something. They just had to figure out where.
Willing my hands to stay steady—not playing your game, Trent—I dialed in the combination. When the lock clicked, I pulled open the door and stepped aside.
Thibedeau looked first. He scanned up and down, inspecting every inch he could see without pawing through my belongings. “Where are the drugs you usually take?”
I gestured at the top shelf. “In the shaving kit behind the box.”
“Keeping them hidden?” Trent asked with a hint of a sneer.
“Newberry,” Hamilton growled.
Thibedeau pulled the small bottle from its hiding place. He read the label, then handed it over to the captain. “I can’t pronounce it to save my life, but it’s no narcotic I’ve ever heard of.”
Hamilton took the bottle and scrutinized the label as well. My skin crawled.
Guess I can take these out in the open now. No point in keeping it a big secret.
“Looks fine to me.” He handed it back to Thibedeau, who replaced it in the locker.
“What about the bag?” Thibedeau pointed at my gym bag. “Mind if I look in there?”
“Have at it,” I said. “Didn’t think you boys were that interested in my jock strap, but all right.”
He glared at me, then reached for the bag.
And as he pulled it out of the locker, a distinctive rattle made me freeze.
Expression hardening even more, he dropped the bag on the bench. “Open it.”
With my heart in my throat, and everyone in the room staring silently at me, I unzipped the bag. Everything was exactly where it belonged—my gym clothes, my running shoes, my toiletry kit—and I thought for a split second I was home free. It must’ve just been something in the toiletry kit. A razor clattering against the deodorant stick or something.
But then I saw it: just under the tongue of my shoe was a white plastic cap.
“Take that out.” The boredom in Thibedeau’s voice was long gone.
Holding my breath, I did.
And sure enough, it was a bottle of pills. Dilaudid, according to the label.
&nbs
p; What the hell?
“These are not mine.”
Captain Hamilton snatched them out of my hand and read the label. “No, they’re not yours.” If looks could kill . . . “They’re prescribed to one Marcy Jackson.”
“Marcy—” My jaw fell open. “How the hell would I be taking my ex-wife’s drugs? She lives in another state.”
“Not according to this.” He turned the label so I could see it. Yeah, it was my ex-wife’s name, but the address beneath it was mine.
“Captain, this is not mine. I’ve never taken—”
“Save it, Ruffner,” Thibedeau barked. “This situation is now under investigation by Internal Affairs.” He took the bottle from Hamilton. “And this is evidence.”
“Sir, listen to me. I—”
“You’re in IA’s hands now,” Hamilton said. “And, as of this moment, you’re suspended.” He held out his hand. “Gun and badge, and then get the fuck out of my precinct.”
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.
And as an invisible noose slowly tightened around my neck, Trent just grinned.
Andreas had only been gone a few minutes when Marla called my desk phone. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what you two did to piss off the captain and get IA involved, but word to the wise, Darren? Don’t get involved.”
“What?” What the hell was she talking about? Of course I was getting involved; I was already involved. My partner was in there being interrogated, his family was being threatened, and our investigation was at a make-or-break moment. I couldn’t just leave Andreas to weather it alone. “No, I need to—”
“Honey.” She might have been whispering, but there was nothing soft about her tone. “You need to listen to me right now, ’cause this is the best advice you’re gonna get all day. I’m telling you: stay at your desk, keep your head down, and get to work. At least look like you’re working. Because you hovering like a hummingbird right now? You’re not going to help Andreas any, and you’re definitely not going to help yourself.”
“But Marla—”
“Get back to work, Detective Corliss.”
She hung up, and I sighed. She had a point: I hadn’t been called into the captain’s office for a reason. If they came out and found me right outside the door ready to jump without knowing why, it might make the situation worse. Whatever the fucking situation was. Not to mention, I had plenty of eyes on me right now. The more I behaved normally, the less they’d look my way.
