Where Loyalties Lie (MidKnight Blue Book 3)

by Sherryl Hancock

  Jessica had gotten the “peach” of a job of being an assistant at the training academy after, in her first month on the street, she managed to get into a gun fight with some gang members in south Sacramento’s seedy area. She’d been terrified, and had been unable to go back to the street right away, not able to qualify at the range because the sounds of gunfire set her nerves on edge. Her father, who was a lieutenant with the department, had assured her that she’d get her nerve back, but Jessica wasn’t so sure. She’d been happy to get a chance to “ease back in” by working at the academy with the range master’s crew. The month before, the usual range master, Bud Neely, had gone skiing and had managed to fall and break his wrist as well as two fingers on the opposite hand. He was out of the academy training for that class anyway. So the chief had pulled some strings to get not only a replacement range master but a gang expert as well. Jessica had been tasked with picking up the replacement at the airport and driving him out to the Sacramento Police Academy at Yuba College.

  She sat at the gate and waited for the plane to arrive. When it did, she stood, looking out for Sergeant Sinclair. She had been told he would be wearing a FORS jacket, which had been described to her, and that he was tall and blond. She began to wonder if he’d missed the flight as the flow of passengers deplaning slowed to a trickle and she still had not seen him. Just when she was about to ask the airline attendant about another incoming flight from San Diego, a man that had to be Sergeant Joseph Sinclair walked up the gangway.

  Jessica’s first impression of Joe was how light blue his eyes were. When she called out to him, he looked around, his gaze coming to rest on her. For a few moments, Jessica couldn’t speak. She just stared up at him and smiled.

  “Hi,” she said, sounding even to herself like a girl of fourteen. “I’m Jessica Harland. I’ll be your assistant on the range.”

  “Assistant?” Joe asked, his English accent clear. “Why?”

  “Well,” she said, not sure how to answer, “because they assigned me to you, and I need the paycheck.”

  Joe grinned at her in spite of himself. She was cute, he thought, almost like Randy had been not too many years ago. He guessed she was probably just about the age Randy had been when he met her.

  “If you’ll follow me, Sergeant, I’ll help you get your bags, and then we can be on our way.”

  Joe followed her, and when they were standing at the baggage carousel, he took the opportunity to look around at the airport terminal. Not much to see—the terminal was tiny compared to San Diego airport. Then he looked outside, watching the vehicles pull in and away from the curb. Still not much to look at.

  “Sacramento’s airport is a bit small, isn’t it?” Jessica said, as if reading his thoughts.

  “That’s a pretty safe statement,” Joe replied.

  “I’ve never been to San Diego, but I’ll bet your airport’s a lot bigger.”

  “A lot,” Joe said, watching the carousel for the one bag he’d brought. When the black leather garment bag came around, he grabbed it and turned to Jessica.

  “That’s it?” she asked, surprised.

  “Versus what?”

  She shook her head and motioned for him to follow her. As they walked out of the terminal, Joe realized it wasn’t as cold as he had expected. Again, Jessica seemed to read his mind.

  “We’ve been having an unseasonably warm spell. Guess it’s going to be an early spring this year,” she said, stopping next to a black SS Monte Carlo. “Well, this is us.” She pulled out the keys and opened the trunk for him.

  Joe put his bag inside and removed his FORS jacket, taking a cellular phone out of the pocket before laying the jacket in the trunk as well. He was wearing black jeans, a long-sleeved denim work shirt, and black boots. Jessica noticed the fairly lethal looking gun he wore at his hip, as well as his gold sergeant’s shield.

  Jessica closed the trunk and explained that the car was actually the property of the Bureau of Narcotic Enforcement. They had sent it over for him, not wanting him to have to spend money on a rental car.

  “It’s got a full agent compliment,” she said, walking over to the passenger’s side and beckoning him to follow. She pointed to the dashboard. “You’ve got your wigwags, as part of the headlight package, and then there’s a red light to be utilized if you happen to make a stop. There’s also a radio installed, and it’s programmed for the PD and the sheriff’s office as well as BNE’s frequencies. So you should be all set.”

  She straightened back up. He had nodded to everything she said, and now he was standing next to her, waiting—for what, she wasn’t sure.

  “Keys?” he said finally.

  “Oh!” she replied, a little embarrassed. “I was going to drive you out to the college. It’s kind of confusing, and I thought it would give you a chance to adjust to Sacramento…” She trailed off as he shook his head.

  “Being a passenger makes me nervous.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll drive, you direct.”

  After a few moments, Jessica shrugged and handed him the keys. Joe promptly unlocked and opened the passenger’s door for her. Jessica was taken aback by the gentlemanly gesture; she had started to wonder if he had a problem with women, and maybe that was the reason he didn’t want her to drive.

  Joe got in the car, putting the keys in the ignition but not starting the engine. He sat looking at the instrument panel, checking out where things were placed. He was used to his Porsche and not really comfortable in a different vehicle. He turned on the police radio, listening to the transmissions and flipping the channels around until he settled on the PD’s frequencies; he was most comfortable with their codes and slang. He started the car and turned on the car radio, tuning in a classic rock station. After he’d adjusted the mirrors and his seat, he looked at Jessica, who had watched everything with an amused smile. She wasn’t used to such thoroughness.

  “Which way?” he asked, grinning.

  “Out the gates, and on Five headed south.”

  Joe nodded, putting the car into gear and easing out of the parking space. Once out of the airport gates, he headed over the bridge to the freeway on-ramp.

  “I have to warn you,” Jessica said as he turned onto the ramp, “drivers here are more aggressive than you might expect. Your best bet would be to…” She trailed off as Joe accelerated, moving with confidence born of dealing with some of the world’s most aggressive drivers. Jessica cleared her throat as Joe began to grin, his eyes still on the road. “Guess you don’t need any driving lessons, huh?” she said, her voice belying her embarrassment.

  “Guess not,” Joe replied. He drove with his left hand, his right hand resting on the gear shift. The sun made the gold on his left ring finger wink—it was then that Jessica noticed the wedding band. She was surprised to feel a stab of disappointment, and knew she wouldn’t be the only one.

  After directing him to the freeway interchange that would take them toward Marysville, she sat back for the ride. It was a long, boring drive; she’d made it often enough. She still wasn’t sure why the department found it necessary to hold its academies all the way out at Yuba College, which was a good forty miles from the PD headquarters.

  “So,” Joe said, glancing over at her, “you’ve been a police officer for how long?”

  “Two months,” Jessica replied.

  Joe raised an eyebrow. “And you’re how old, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I turned twenty-one three months ago.”

  Joe nodded. “’Bout what I figured.”

  “Oh really,” Jessica said, smiling. She knew he was kidding her. “And you, Sergeant Sinclair, how long have you been a police officer?”

  “A hell of a lot longer than you, I can say that.”

  “How long?” Jessica asked, not letting him avoid the question that easily.

  “Just a bit over ten years,” he said, noting the surprised look on her face.

  “And you joined the department when you were thirteen?”<
br />
  “Yeah, right.” Joe grinned. He liked her—she was smart, but had an apparent sense of humor too. “More like twenty-three.”

  Jessica opened her eyes wide. “But that would make you…”

  “Way too old!” Joe finished her sentence, remembering a similar conversation with Randy so long ago.

  “Well,” Jessica said, “if it’s any consolation, my father’s older than you.”

  Joe made a choking sound, and then coughed as he began to laugh. “Thanks!” They laughed, comfortable with each other already.

  “So, what made you get into gang work?” she asked.

  “Probably being in one,” Joe replied. He could tell he’d surprised her again.

  “You were in a gang?”

  “The leader of one, actually.”

  “Really?” She watched him nod. “And your accent—it’s English, isn’t it?” Again Joe nodded. “They have gangs in England?”

  Joe rolled his eyes at her, having heard the question a few times before. “Why does everybody ask that?”

  “Well, England conjures up pictures of kings and queens, the Beatles, castles, and knights, not gangs.”

  “Well, we have the other stuff too, but yes, there are gangs in England.”

  “What part of England are you from?”

  “London.”

  “I just can’t picture you as a poor kid of the rough-and-tumble London streets.”

  “Well, picture London society and a mansion on a hundred and twenty acres, and you’d be closer to the truth,” Joe replied, shocking her into silence this time.

  “You were a rich kid?” she finally managed, sure he was kidding.

  “Was, am, yeah.” He wasn’t sure why he was telling her this.

  “You’re rich?” she said skeptically. “No way!”

  Joe nodded, but Jessica continued to look at him disbelievingly. “I don’t believe it,” she said.

  “What do ya want, a bank statement?” Joe said, his smile broad. Just then his cell rang. He unclipped it from his belt and looked at the number, grinning. “That didn’t take long,” he said to himself.

  “What?” Jessica asked, just as he answered. There was a wide grin on his face as the person on the other end spoke.

  “What?” he said. He sounded exasperated, but was smiling all the while. Jessica watched as he listened, then began to laugh.

  “Well, that took, what”—he looked at his watch—“all of about two hours.” He listened for a moment. “Look, I did that warrant myself—don’t let Rick screw it up. You know he’s just broodin’ about you—make him run it.” He shook his head. “No, it should be just the way I laid it out, he’s just makin’ excuses.” He was quiet for another moment, glancing over at Jessica and rolling his eyes. “Look, if he wants to fight about it, you have him call me. Otherwise, tell the dumb sonofabitch that if he doesn’t do it my way I’m gonna call his mum and tell her he’s being a spoiled brat again.” He laughed in response to what the other person was saying. Jessica watched, fascinated by his obvious ease with whoever he was talking to. He looked over at her and winked.

  “Hey, Night,” he said into the phone. “I need ya to do something for me. Tell this police officer about my financial situation.”

  “What?” Midnight asked, confused now.

  “Just do it, hold on.” He handed the phone to Jessica. Jessica stared at it for a moment, then looked at Joe; he nodded to her. “Go ahead, it’s my boss.”

  Finally she took the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hi, who’re you?” Midnight asked, her voice light.

  “Me? Oh, I’m Officer Jessica Harland of the Sacramento Police Department.”

  “And how did you get stuck with my partner?”

  “I, uh,” Jessica stammered, surprised that Joe had a female for a partner. “Well, I was asked to drive Sergeant Sinclair to the training site.”

  “Are you driving?” Midnight asked, surprised.

  “Well, no, ma’am, he is.” Jessica was taken aback when the woman on the other end of the line began to laugh.

  “Yeah, that’s definitely Joe you’ve got there. He hates to be a passenger, basically has to be unconscious if he’s not driving. Anyway, he told me to tell you about his financial situation?”

  “Well, yes, ma’am. We were having this discussion and he told me something that was rather hard to believe.”

  “He told you he was rich,” Midnight said. It was a statement, not a question.

  “Yes, he did, but I didn’t believe him.”

  “Well, I’m Lieutenant Midnight Chevalier, and I’m here to tell you that the man is not lying. He’s worth, oh, a few million now, I’d say.”

  “I…” Jessica hesitated, stunned first by the rank of the woman she was having this outrageous conversation with, and second by the amount the lieutenant had stated. “Yes, ma’am, I believe it now,” she finally managed. “Thank you, ma’am.” She handed the phone back to Joe, who was laughing by now.

  “What’d you tell her?” he asked. “She’s gone quite pale now.”

  “I told her what you wanted me to, Sinclair. Now I’ve gotta go. Rick’s pacing outside my door, and I’m not in the mood to get into another one with him. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay, bye.” Joe hung up. Looking at Jessica, he said, “Believe me now?”

  She nodded. “Unequivocally.” She was silent for a moment, then cocked her head to the side. “Your boss is a female?”

  “Yeah,” Joe said, shrugging. “So?”

  “I just…” Jessica hesitated for a moment “I’m surprised, that’s all.”

  “Why?” Joe asked, his brow furrowing.

  “Well, most men don’t like to work for women, especially cops.”

  Joe seemed to consider her statement for a minute, then shrugged again. “Maybe some men, but I wouldn’t even consider crossing my partner. She’d probably kill me.”

  Jessica looked at him, confusion obvious on her face. “Is she your boss or your partner? She said ‘partner,’ and you’ve said both.”

  “Midnight is my boss—she runs FORS—but we’re partners too. I’m her second.”

  “Second?”

  “In command.”

  “Oh.” Jessica found herself respecting Joe more for not only having a woman for a boss, but obviously thinking a great deal of her as well. Then something occurred to her. “She’s not your wife, is she?”

  Again Joe raised an eyebrow at her. “What made you ask that?”

  “I’m sorry,” Jessica said, thinking she had offended him.

  “No, it’s okay, I just thought it was an interesting avenue for you to take, and I wondered how you got there.”

  “Well,” Jessica said, still a little hesitant, “I noticed your wedding band earlier, and I also noted how close the two of you seemed to be on the phone, and…” She shook her head. “I’m probably way off base, huh?”

  Joe surprised her. “Not really. Her and I are pretty close, but no, she’s not my wife. She is the wife of my best friend, for the time being.”

  “The wife, or the best friend?” Jessica asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

  “What?”

  “Is she his wife for the time being, or your best friend for the time being? Or both?”

  Joe grinned. She did have a quick mind. He looked at her. “Have you ever considered becoming a detective?”

  “Actually,” Jessica said, smiling proudly, “the thought has occurred to me.”

  “You’d do pretty well, I’d wager. But yes, she is his wife for the time being—they’re getting a divorce. And as for him being my best friend, well, Midnight is too, and he’s the one screwing up.” He shrugged, indicating that he didn’t know what else he could do.

  “Pretty tangled web you San Diegans weave down there, isn’t it?” Jessica said.

  “You haven’t even heard my half of it,” Joe said. Jessica was about to ask for his half of it when she noticed his face had become really serious,
and she decided that if he wanted to tell her, he would. Joe didn’t say anything for a while.

  “So tell me about this range. What are the facilities like?” he asked eventually. Jessica found herself glad she hadn’t asked him about his story, sensing that he didn’t want to discuss it. She began telling him about the range and the academy at Yuba College, and the rest of the drive passed quickly.

  ****

  In San Diego, Midnight had to deal with Rick, who was not pleased about having to go through his wife instead of Joe, who was really his boss. Besides the fact that he didn’t like the raid layout Joe had set up, he had to deal with Midnight on top of it, and she basically didn’t have the patience at the moment to be tactful.

  “Look, Rick, you’ll do it the way Joe laid it out or you’re off the team on this one. I don’t have time to hold your hand and explain it to you again.”

  Rick looked at his wife, narrowing his eyes at her tone. He did not like the way she talked to him as if to a child. “I’ve been in this unit for almost four years now. I think I know when something is right, and this isn’t right, Midnight. Stop being so goddamned hardheaded and listen to me!”

  Midnight was shaking her head. “I don’t have time for this. If you don’t want to lead the team, I’ll fucking do it.” She picked up the paperwork on his desk and walked out of his area.