by Lynette Mae
“Too late.” Mac’s eyes twinkled.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I’ve been all over this floor looking for you. It kind of defeats the purpose of the guard at the door if you aren’t in the room.”
“I just went around the corner. The doc said it was good for me to move if I felt up to it. Walk back with me.” Devon began crutching back in the direction of her room.
“Any word on when you’re getting out of here?”
“I’m waiting for the doc to come by today. My nurse said he’d be making rounds after lunch. With any luck I’ll be in my own bed tonight.” Devon smiled at the woman behind the counter as they passed the nurse’s station. She turned her attention back to Mac. “So? The search warrant was two days ago, and all I’ve heard is a lot of nothing. Jessie says everything’s been quiet over on Broadway—and you can imagine how comforting it is to know she’s been poking around over there.”
Mac offered a sympathetic sound and stepped aside for a woman pushing a six-foot-high metal cart filled with food trays. When Mac didn’t answer, Devon pressed, “What’s the deal?”
Mac glanced sideways at her. “You already know we got nothing at the shop. Kelsey confiscated a bunch of Roy’s files, but we didn’t find any stolen cars or altered VINs.”
“Nothing?”
“Nope. It was almost like they knew we were coming. The place was too clean. In fact, there was only one car up on a lift. Roy said they just shipped a load to the scrap yard. Coincidentally, of course. Kelsey thinks that maybe he’s got access to another lot or to a shop for storage. His boy going rogue on him and targeting you might have scared him into laying low.”
“What about Honeycutt’s place or the car?”
“The car had some prints, but not Honeycutt’s. The crime lab is still holding out hope with some fibers and hair. Zero at the apartment. As a matter of fact, we think he’s gone. The place looks completely deserted. The landlord was no help whatsoever. He said the fucker skipped out without paying his last month’s rent. Since he isn’t from here, it’s not like we have anywhere to begin looking for him. Driver’s license info is a dead end. The Maryland DL he had was suspended five years ago, and his last known address is Florida State Prison at Starke.”
Devon felt her chest constricting with the prospect of Honeycutt lurking beneath the radar, moving with impunity. The fact that he owned the element of surprise gave her an eerie, helpless feeling. “What’s Kelsey’s next move?”
“She says we work the wire. Also, she got approval for more surveillance on Roy’s place.”
Devon scowled. “In other words, we wait.”
“You know that’s how it is sometimes, Dev. We’re all as frustrated as you are, but something will give.” She held open the door of Devon’s room. “Right now, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Devon moved past her through the doorway and stopped short.
“There you are.” Jillian pushed off the windowsill she’d been leaning against across the room. Her skin had a tanned luster, and Devon realized that Mac had obviously spent some time in the sun as well. “Hope you don’t mind my dropping in.”
Devon eased onto the bed, mindful of her ribs. “Not at all.” The most surprising part was how good it felt to know that Jillian cared enough to come. “How are you?”
“That’s what I’m supposed to be asking you.” Jillian approached the bed and reached out as though she wanted to hug Devon, but hesitated. Her eyes wandered over Devon’s frame, assessing the damage perhaps.
“I won’t break.” Devon held out her arm and Jillian took the invitation to wrap her arms carefully around Devon’s shoulders, giving a firm squeeze. They held on longer than necessary, or maybe the connection was something they both needed, Devon wasn’t sure. Jill released her and stepped back. Mac helped prop a few pillows behind Devon’s back before moving next to Jillian and dropping an arm around her shoulder. A few seconds of awkward silence stretched between them, and Devon couldn’t help wondering what was on Jill’s mind.
Thankfully, Mac broke the silence. “I brought Jill up to speed on what’s happening with the investigation.”
Jillian stared squarely at Devon. “I never thought I’d hear that guy’s name again. This is like a nightmare that won’t go away.”
Devon watched the fear and anger play across Jillian’s features, remembering all too well the devastating way the senior Honeycutt’s actions had affected Jill—and how she’d reacted. She glanced at Mac and dread crept up her spine. How would Jillian respond now? Would she bolt? Devon wondered if she was unfairly assuming the worst. Mac kissed Jill’s cheek. Jillian turned to face her with an expression nothing short of adulation. Devon relaxed a little. After all, her assumptions about Jillian were based on behavior that was ancient history. She forced her anxiety away.
“This is completely different,” Jillian said. “Honeycutt senior was vindictive, but his purpose was to destroy our careers and reputations. Junior is taking this to a whole new level. He tried to kill you, Devon.” Her body was tense with anger. “He’s gone too far this time. His father did enough damage in our lives. I don’t intend to let this asshole win. He might believe he’s got the upper hand right now but we’re not inexperienced easy targets anymore. He can bring his A game and it still won’t be good enough.”
Devon’s met her gaze with silent understanding. If Vincent wanted to finish waging his father’s war against them, so be it.
Mac laughed. “I wouldn’t want to be Junior when the two toughest SWAT chicks I know unleash a can of whoop-ass on him.” Jillian grinned and gave Mac a peck on the cheek.
“First, we’ve gotta find him.” Devon felt the familiar frustration building in her gut. “And how the hell am I supposed to help when I’m all gimped up?”
“No doubt he’ll be laying low for a while,” Jillian said. “This might be a good time for us all to compare notes and see what we’ve got in common with the auto thefts. I’ll check with my detectives and see if they’re working anything similar. If I recall, we’ve had a few high-end cars listed on our daily hot sheet. If the roads lead to shipments in Miami, and they’re moving that much merchandise, then Orlando isn’t a stretch. We’re only eighty miles apart. Manny Garcia is our auto theft sergeant and an old friend. I’m sure he’ll want to help out.”
“That’s a good idea. Kelsey probably knows your guy.” Mac picked up the folders lying on the chair against the far wall and brought them over to the bed. She handed the stack to Devon. “In the meantime, I smuggled out some files for you, Dev. I figured you needed something to occupy your mind. This way, you can still feel connected to what’s going on, and I know Kelsey would appreciate any ideas you come up with.”
Devon rifled through the pages. “What’s all this?”
“Kelsey compiled all of the incident reports on the auto thefts and related information from the last couple of months. She’s hoping your fresh eyes will find something that she’s missed. I happen to know that you’re brilliant at sifting data and coming up with angles that nobody else recognized. I’ve always wondered why you stay on the street instead of moving to the detective division. You are a natural at that shit.” She looked at Jillian. “You should have seen the way this NSA wiz kid deciphered signals and fit the pieces of the intelligence puzzle together back in the day.”
Jillian gave Devon an admiring glance mixed with a touch of angst.
“That was a long time ago,” Devon said. “But this will give me something to do. Thanks, Mac.”
“Sure thing.” Mac moved to the side of the bed. “You need anything before we go? I’ve got to get Jill back to my place to pick up her car.”
“I have to work this afternoon,” Jillian added. She watched Devon for a few moments, looking as though she wanted to say more, but remained silent. Moving closer, she slipped her hand onto Devon’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Glad you’re okay.”
Devon patted her hand. “Thanks for coming.”
&n
bsp; Jillian turned to Mac. “Ready?” They headed for the door, with Mac promising to check in again the next day.
When her friends had gone, Devon opened the folder and sifted through the contents. Kelsey was thorough, if nothing else. She set four files out on the bed, arranging them in date order left to right, and picked up the one from a few months back. Cars had begun disappearing downtown, but at first they appeared to be random, unrelated incidents. Nobody had thought to connect them. Those were the cases Devon wanted to review first. They had originally gotten the least amount of scrutiny, so it stood to reason that was where some evidence might have been missed.
Devon thought about the scope of the entire operation. The rate of theft started at a couple each week and was now near a dozen in the same timeframe. It was possible that a guy like Honeycutt could do that, but she was betting he was farming out some of the work. Kelsey had said kids from the projects were arrested in a couple of cases. She grabbed her leather tote from next to the bed and rummaged through to find a pen and pad. Shuffling through the reports, she came across an arrest affidavit on two juveniles charged with burglary of a residence. Several items later recovered from the kids’ residences couldn’t be tied to property taken from those crimes. Devon made a note to check the recovered merchandise against the remaining auto burglary and auto theft reports. Maybe there was a link.
“Knock, knock.”
Devon raised her eyes to see Detective Johnson stroll in.
“How’s my favorite corporal today?”
She wondered why the hell Johnson was here. Whatever business he had couldn’t be good. She didn’t know this guy well enough for his visit to be personal, and a surprise visit from IAB automatically set her defenses to high alert.
“I’m your favorite corporal?” She snorted. “My bullshit meter is reading off the chart right now.”
He waved his hand in the air. “Whatever. How are you doing, Devon?”
“I’m good, Detective. Thanks for coming by.” She tried to sound sincere when really she wished he were anywhere but in her room. Devon closed the folder closest to her and tried to nonchalantly push the stack aside. Too late. He had already surveyed everything spread out in front of her. It wasn’t exactly proper procedure for an injured street corporal to have files on an active investigation, but if Johnson recognized the files, he didn’t let on.
“So what brings you here today?” Devon asked.
“Would you believe I came bearing good news?”
“Good news for you or for me?”
He laughed at that. “Not the trusting sort, are you, Devon?”
She lifted a shoulder and waited.
“I went back out to your shooting scene last week to have another look around. I was thinking about the lighting. You said he fired at you and it’s always bugged me where the bullet went. You said the tree could have been blocking the streetlight. Well, I walked off the measurements to approximate where you and the kid were standing. According to the crime scene notes, the spot the kid was standing in relation to your position didn’t add up. I mean didn’t line up, more to the point.”
Devon wondered where he was going but kept quiet. She poured herself a cup of water from a Styrofoam pitcher.
Johnson went on, becoming more animated. “I cross-checked the report against the original notes from the scene and bingo! I found it. One of the measurements was misprinted. It said five feet from the fence line, when it should have been fifteen. He was fifteen feet from the fence. So, I paced it off and that put the large oak tree behind you from his position.” He was nearly gushing now. “The tree, Devon. The tree that blocked the light was behind you. You stepped to the right as he fired. I dug a bullet out of that tree trunk. It was up fairly high, so that’s why nobody noticed it. Ballistics confirmed it was a nine millimeter.”
“That’s great, but it doesn’t mean much, does it? We can’t prove anything unless we find the kid’s gun.”
“True, but now we have physical evidence that we can test when we do find it. Plus, I had forensics take more measurements, and I’m confident that the angle is correct from where the kid was standing that night. It’s not conclusive, but it’s better than nothing.”
Devon had to admit he was right about that. She’d take anything, circumstantial or not, to support her version of the events. Replaying the scene over and over in her mind, she saw the muzzle flash from the gun in front of her, but when they hadn’t found anything, even she questioned her memory. At least now she could let go of that doubt.
She held her hand out to Johnson. “Thanks for taking the extra time to check that out, and for coming here to let me know.”
He shook her hand. “Just doing my job. The shoot team’s investigation will remain open until they find the gun, but I’m recommending closure of the IA portion of things. The State Attorney agrees. No violation of policy on your part.”
“That is good news,” Devon said.
“You look tired. I’m going to get out of here so you can rest. Take care.”
Devon watched him go and then leaned back in the bed. Between her morning walk, Jillian’s unexpected appearance, and the visit from Johnson, she was pretty worn out, but found she was too keyed up to sleep. The unexpected good fortune in the IA investigation meant she’d be able to move past the stigma of the shooting—at least that was the idea. With all of the Honeycutt mess going on, Devon was glad to have one less worry on her plate. Now, if only the kid’s gun would turn up. Fat chance, though. That thing was probably at the bottom of the Hillsborough River by now.
The phone next to her bed rang. When she answered, there was silence at the other end of the line. “Hello,” Devon repeated, this time receiving a click followed by a dial tone. She set the phone back on the cradle and frowned, looking around the room. The daily bustle of the hospital continued in the hall. She leaned forward slightly until she saw the edge of the officer’s shoulder patch in her doorway. A muted ding sounded, followed by an intercom request for a doctor in the recovery ward. Everything seemed normal.
The call could have been a misdial.
But Devon knew it wasn’t.
Chapter Seventeen
“HELLO, BEAUTIFUL.” JESSIE breezed into the room, bright as the afternoon sun. A faded green jersey with a white, weathered number eight at the center hugged her upper body, showing off her figure. Devon felt the familiar flutter in her stomach. After three days in the hospital, she was starting to get a little stir crazy. Jessie’s visits had been confined to the mornings before work the previous two days, but today she was off. She held a single red rose in her hand and presented it to her before planting a long, full kiss on her lips that sent Devon’s heart rate soaring.
“Mmm. Wow,” Devon said lazily. “If they packaged your power, all drugs would be obsolete.”
Jessie smoothed the hair back from Devon’s brow. She ran her thumb lightly along the row of sutures from Devon’s right temple to her hairline. “How’s your head?”
“I think the headache’s finally gone for good, and I haven’t had spots in my vision for the last couple of days. I’m ready to get out of here.”
Jessie pressed a kiss to her forehead. “That’s good to hear.” She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing Devon momentarily, before breaking into a smile. “You’re right. I can see the sharpness back in those baby blues. I’ve missed you.”
Devon’s hand stole up to Jessie’s breast and tweaked her nipple.
Jessie gasped. She gripped Devon’s wandering hand and laughed. “Yeah, you’re better, all right. Behave.”
Devon slipped her palm behind Jessie’s neck and pulled her in for a slow, deep kiss that left them both a little breathless. She got a charge out of seeing the dazed look in Jessie’s eyes and the flush in her skin when she lifted her lips away. Devon’s focus moved from Jessie’s eyes to her lips and back again, as a tingling spread beneath her skin. “Did I do that?” Her hand moved around to the front of Jessie’s throat, her thumb resting on th
e strong pulse that beat visibly.
“All you.”
“Glad I’m not alone in that.”
The sound of someone clearing his throat snapped Devon out of the trance. Her doctor stood in the doorway holding her chart and x-rays. Jessie blushed and started to move away, but Devon tugged on her hand. “Don’t go.”
“Sorry if I’m interrupting,” Doctor Sullivan said pleasantly. He smiled at the two women as he approached the bed.
Devon sat up eagerly. “Morning, Doc, let’s get to the release.”
“You know, you really are a bad patient.” He raised a bushy eyebrow, pretending anger. “But I guess most of you cops are. Just can’t stand not to be in control.”
Devon feigned a wounded expression. “That’s not nice, Doc.”
“So, I guess you’re going to try to convince me that’s hospital issue?” He pointed to the white t-shirt she was wearing that said Penn State Football in large navy blue letters.
She looked at her shirt. “It fits better.”
“I rest my case. Bad patient.” the doctor repeated. He tugged at her shirt and placed the stethoscope on her chest. “Breathe deeply for me.” Devon flinched slightly as she drew in a breath and she knew the doctor saw it too. “Again.” He moved the metal disc to the other side to listen before lifting the shirt up higher. “Let’s have a look at those ribs.”
She sat up gingerly as he removed the elastic bandage from her mid-section and clenched her jaw when he touched the most sensitive spot along her ribcage. He continued to probe gently around the area, watching her closely. She met his eyes squarely, hoping to convey a silent plea: C’mon, doc, just spring me from here and Jessie will take care of me. The smile Jessie gave her said she was reading those thoughts.
The doctor shined a penlight in each eye. “Any blurred vision?”
“Nope. No headache, either.”
“Good.” He returned the light to his pocket and made a note on her chart before dropping it onto the bed. He took both of her hands. “Squeeze my hands.” She did. He moved to the foot of the bed and pulled the sheet from her legs, placing his hand against the bottom of her uninjured foot. “Push against me. Good.” Again he made more notes. “Devon, your x-rays show that you’re healing up quite well. The sutures in your head are fine, and you don’t have as much tenderness in those ribs. You’re going to be in that cast for another five or six weeks, but somehow I don’t think that will totally slow you down either.”
