Above the Law

by Carsen Taite

  Arturo Vargas had been moved from the hospital to a cell at Seagoville, and they’d been closely monitoring his phone calls and visitors for signs he was communicating with his fugitive brother, but so far it seemed he was keeping a low profile. “You think he’ll go ahead and indict Arturo?”

  “He might. Word is he thinks he can put pressure on Arturo to flip on Gantry.”

  Dale noted Bianca’s skeptical expression. “You don’t agree?”

  “I don’t think Arturo has anything to gain. By the time they finish stacking up the charges, he’s looking at a life sentence. Even if Gellar filed a motion for a downward departure based on his cooperation, a judge isn’t going to shave off enough to matter. Not for the head of a cartel. And that’s the other thing—the little guys snitch, not the big ones. If Arturo talks, he’s not necessarily going to implicate his brother, and I don’t see that happening. Ever.”

  “Good points,” Dale said. Bianca rose a few points on her respect meter. “You have any ideas about flushing out Sergio?”

  Bianca looked around before whispering, “I do, but I don’t want to talk about it here.”

  “At the ranch then?” Dale asked. They had another “poker game” scheduled for the next night.

  Bianca shook her head. She scrawled a note on a piece of paper and folded it in half. As she handed it to Dale, her eyes appeared to lock on to something over Dale’s shoulder, and she said, a touch too loudly, “Thanks, Agent. I appreciate you letting me know. Have a good day.”

  Before Dale could process what had happened, she saw Herschel Gellar enter the well of the courtroom. She slid the paper into her pocket. “No problem. The event is next Saturday and obviously, we’d like to have some folks from your office on hand to help out with the educational component. Thanks for spreading the word.” She nodded to Gellar as she left the courtroom, and prayed Bianca was quick enough to handle his curiosity.

  Moments later, she retrieved her truck from the parking garage down the street and drove to Lindsey’s hotel on the other side of downtown. As she pulled into the parking lot, she reflected that whoever had put them up at this hotel didn’t know their way around the city. The Anatole wasn’t far from downtown, but there were other hotels that were more convenient to all the places they’d need to be over the next week. At least the spacious lot meant it was easy to find a space to park. She killed the engine and fished the note from Bianca out of her pocket. 7 p.m. J.R.’s. Just you.

  Dale drummed the seat cushion with her fingers. She’d expected a little more in the way of detail, but it looked like she’d have to wait until that evening to find out what Bianca had in mind. She tucked the note away and pulled another piece of paper from her glove box—the schedule she’d received from someone named Elaina on Lindsey’s team. Today she was supposed to accompany the whole crew to interview a few local law enforcement officials. She’d already whined to Diego about it, but he hadn’t budged. When she’d pointed out she was being wasted in the role of chauffeur, he’d insisted her presence was essential to ensure the program had a consistent message across all agencies. Her presence wouldn’t guarantee that, but she didn’t have a choice in the matter and she might as well accept it.

  A sharp knock startled her out of her pondering. Her hand flew to her shoulder holster as she jerked her head to the window. Lindsey stood next to her truck, looking like a model in an expensive looking navy suit and perfect hair and makeup. Dale motioned for her to back up, and she opened the door and stepped out.

  “Sorry if I scared you,” Lindsey said, a teasing grin playing at the corners of her mouth. “I just happened to walk outside for a breath of fresh air when I saw you drive up.”

  “You didn’t scare me,” Dale lied. “I was just looking over the schedule. Pretty ambitious for a day’s work.”

  “It’s the story of my life. Too much to do and not enough time to get it all done. I’ve become the consummate overachiever.”

  “And you have the awards to prove it.”

  Lindsey smiled and cocked her head. “Aw, you noticed.”

  Heat rose up the back of Dale’s neck, slow and tingly, and she brushed at her collar.

  “Are you okay?” Lindsey asked.

  Dale felt the flush through her entire head now, but the last thing she wanted to do was talk about it. “Uh, yeah, sure.” She cast about for a change in subject, but before she could settle on something Lindsey asked, “Are you hungry?”

  “Hungry?”

  “Food, you know, sustenance. I’m starving. The others won’t be ready for a little while. Do you mind if we grab something?”

  Dale looked at the schedule in her hand. They did have a decent window before they were supposed to be at the first location. Besides, it was Lindsey’s shoot. If they were late, what did she care? “Sure, why not?”

  She jammed her keys in her pocket and followed Lindsey to a bistro inside the hotel. The hostess sat them at a booth in the back. Dale buried her face in the menu while she tried to process her body’s strange reaction to Lindsey’s flirty banter in the parking lot. “Twenty dollars for a salad! That’s crazy.”

  “You don’t strike me as a salad person.”

  “Good thing.”

  Lindsey swatted her with the menu. She’d caught a glimpse of this playful version of Dale yesterday and it was good to see it again. “Lunch is on me. Have whatever you want.”

  “I can buy my own lunch.”

  And just like that, crotchety Dale was back again. Lindsey set her menu on the table and leaned forward. “Look, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot and not just because you ate most of the bacon off my breakfast tray.” She smiled and counted the beats until Dale returned the gesture. “So, I had you come a little early today because I wanted to see if we could start fresh. I figured we could share a meal, get to know each other. So have a steak, have a salad, whatever suits you. Next time you can pick the place and pay my way. Deal?”

  She watched and waited for Dale’s response, finally breathing a sigh of relief when she said, “Deal.”

  Dale ordered a burger and fries and Lindsey told the waitress to double the order.

  “Now see, I would’ve pegged you for a salad girl,” Dale said.

  “Shows how much you know,” Lindsey replied. “Five miles every morning means I can eat what I want, and I almost never want a salad.”

  “I approve.”

  “Are you used to women who only eat salads?” Lindsey winced internally at the unartful question. She hadn’t asked Dale to lunch to dive into details about her deceased wife, but their playful banter seemed like a good time to broach more personal areas. However, now that she’d started down this road, she felt like a heel for acting like she knew less about Dale’s personal life than she did.

  “I’m not used to anything in particular.”

  Nice sidestep. Dale was going to be more difficult to crack than the average subject. “I have a tendency to accidentally date the salad-loving women. Doesn’t bode well for the long-term.” There, she’d tossed out the bait. Would Dale bite?

  “I was married for seven years. We both worked our asses off, and when it was time to eat, we ate whatever we were hungry for at the time.”

  Lindsey listened carefully for any undercurrent in Dale’s tone that signaled this avenue of conversation had hit a dead end. No, Dale sounded matter-of-fact, but she didn’t detect any traces of anger or annoyance. “You were married.”

  “My wife, Maria, is dead. It’s been a year.”

  Her voice was quiet and lifeless, and Lindsey wasn’t sure where to go from here. She had a thousand questions, but they were all based on knowledge she’d now pretended she didn’t already have. Where were you when your wife was shot down? What was the last thing you said to her and she to you? Have you been trying to find out who killed her? What progress have you made?

  She couldn’t ask any of these things. Not here, not now. In this moment, when Dale had displayed such vulnerability, the right thin
g to do was to be a person, not a reporter. The challenge was toeing the line between the two. She’d spent so much time digging for stories, she wasn’t entirely sure she could compartmentalize her truth-seeking queries from well-intended curiosity. For now, she settled on a simple, “I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t do anything. It’s just…”

  Lindsey reached over and grasped Dale’s hand. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I’m here if you do.”

  Dale met her eyes, and Lindsey struggled to read the emotions reflected there, but before she could get a fix on them, Dale smiled and said, “Thanks, but I’d prefer if we talk about a lighter subject. Something along the lines of the great salad versus burger debate, if you don’t mind.”

  “Fine by me.”

  Their food came quickly and they dove in. The rest of their conversation was light-hearted. Lindsey asked questions about Dallas in general. She’d flown through Dallas tons of times, but had never really spent any time in the city. Dale was describing her favorite burger joints when Lindsey got a text from Elaina that the crew was ready to go. She settled the check and they walked out of the restaurant.

  Dale pulled the list of afternoon appointments out of her pocket and pointed at the attached map. “I see you already mapped out the locations for today.”

  “We’re nothing if not efficient. Speaking of efficiency, Elaina managed to borrow a van from one of the local affiliates so we can all ride together.”

  “Oh, okay.” Dale didn’t know why, but the change in plans threw her a bit. She’d planned on driving. Maybe she’d expected more autonomy than being trapped in the van with the entire film crew would allow. She braced for meeting everyone else. “Where are they?”

  Lindsey pointed at one of the circular drives on the side of the hotel. “Over there.”

  Dale stiffened as Lindsey grabbed her arm and started walking in the direction she’d indicated, but Lindsey didn’t seem to notice. Forcing her stride into motion, Dale glanced down at Lindsey’s hand, curled around her bicep. Smooth skin, manicured nails, no ring. Her Internet research hadn’t revealed anything about a spouse or partner. Lindsey Ryan took care of herself, but not for someone waiting at home. More likely, she self-pampered for the camera and her career. What must it be like to have a job where someone younger and more beautiful was poised to take over the minute your ratings slipped?

  She didn’t have much time to contemplate the answer before they were next to a van from the local station Channel 8 news. The side door slid open, and she looked inside, recognizing the driver as the guy who’d accompanied Lindsey to the office earlier in the week. The other two passengers were women who could not have looked more different. One was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and Doc Martens. She was cute in a here’s-my-younger-sister kind of way and she looked all of fifteen. The other woman looked like Lindsey did today, polished, professional, and dressed to the nines, but she didn’t look like she would ever be comfortable in the outfit Lindsey had thrown on yesterday morning. She was classically beautiful, but in that too good to be true and completely untouchable kind of way. This chick probably slept in ironed sheets wearing expensive lingerie, and she definitely loved salads. Not at all her type.

  The thought hit her like a stun gun—unexpected, hard, and painful. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d thought about another woman being her type, but she knew it had to be before she’d met Maria. Peyton’s words from earlier in the week echoed in her head and dug their claws into her heart. She hadn’t thought about dating since she’d lost Maria, and a simple observation about whether another woman was attractive or not didn’t mean her perspective had changed. Especially since she’d concluded she wasn’t attracted to her at all.

  “Climb in and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

  Dale turned at the sound of Lindsey’s voice. She might not be attracted to the polished beauty in the van, but Lindsey…Lindsey was a different story. Today she was polished for the camera, but the image of Lindsey in her rumpled sweatshirt, hair pulled back in a jumbled mess, and no makeup yet looking absolutely stunning flashed in her mind. Her probing questions, her teasing tone, the way her eyes reflected kindness even when she was asking hard questions—all of these things rattled against the barriers she’d erected, and the realization caught her completely off guard.

  The air around her grew thin, and she was crawling out of her skin. One thing was certain, no fucking way was she getting into a van with Lindsey Ryan. She muttered something about needing to drive her own vehicle and stalked back to her truck.

  Lindsey watched, baffled, as Dale walked briskly away from the van. Just when she’d started to breach the barriers Dale had erected, she morphed from mildly reluctant tour guide to I can’t be bothered to be near you. Dale had turned pale and distant just before she bolted, and Lindsey wanted desperately to know what had caused the change.

  “What the hell was that about?”

  Lindsey turned to Elaina. She was so absorbed in curiosity about Dale she’d almost forgotten about Elaina and the others. “New development. She’s meeting us there.” She shrugged and kept her face fixed in a nonchalant expression. “Work thing.” She climbed into the van. “Let’s go.”

  Elaina huffed, but told Jed to take them downtown. Lindsey consciously avoided the questioning looks from Jed and Alice. They’d seen the entire exchange and were probably wondering what in the hell had gotten into Dale. She wondered too and had no idea why she’d told the little white lie to cover for Dale’s sudden attack of odd. In the moment, she’d sensed Dale was vulnerable and hadn’t even tried to combat the powerful urge to protect her.

  She’d have to get over that if she was going to do her job. And despite the network’s assignment to keep this piece sweet and tidy, she was determined to find a meatier story, one worthy of her loyal viewers and her own integrity.

  Dale was already in the lobby when they reached Dallas Police headquarters. Elaina ignored her and walked over to the officer on duty, but Lindsey hung back. When it became clear Dale wasn’t going to approach, she told Alice and Jed she’d be right back and walked to where Dale was standing.

  “You have an aversion to news vans?” she asked.

  Dale’s gaze remained fixed on some imaginary spot on the wall. “Not a big fan.”

  “I’m sensing you aren’t a big fan of me either. I thought we were beginning to get along. Have I done something to make you mad?” Lindsey hated herself for asking the question, but as much as it might be construed as a sign of weakness, she really wanted to know the answer. She waited patiently while Dale’s face cycled through a series of hard to interpret expressions before finally landing on a forced smile.

  “It’s not you.”

  “And you’d tell me if it was?”

  “Did your job make you cynical or were you just born that way?”

  Lindsey started to fire back a retort, but stopped to ponder Dale’s response. It was a good question, and she wasn’t sure of the answer. She’d been raised by a family full of conservatives, who blindly followed the loudest voice of their movement and discouraged any curiosity that questioned their beliefs. Maybe her intense desire to know all the facts, to find the truth, was a visceral reaction to the pressure not to. But she had no desire to bare her soul to anyone, let alone the subject of her next reveal. Luckily, Elaina chose that exact moment to interrupt.

  “If you girls are done chatting, they’re ready for us.”

  Lindsey saw Dale wince at the word “girls,” and then raise her eyebrows when Elaina clutched her arm. She kept her eyes on Dale as she shrugged out of Elaina’s grasp and said, in a dripping sweet tone, “We girls have been waiting on you, haven’t we, Dale?”

  The smile at the edge of Dale’s lips was small and fleeting, but Lindsey saw it and was supremely satisfied she’d been able to make it appear. During the next couple of boring hours of setting up and interviewing the police chief about his organization’s role in the d
rug Take-Back program, she reflected on that smile and vowed to go for an even bigger one next time.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Dale led Lindsey and the rest of the film crew into a conference room where Chief Turner and a few other local police officers were waiting. She’d worked with several DPD officers on cases in the past, handing them evidence on some of the minor cases the DEA had passed on because they weren’t quite splashy enough to warrant federal dollars. Turner acknowledged her and introduced her to the others at the table. When he reached the one woman in the bunch, Dale beat him to the introduction. “Detective DeJesus, nice to see you again.”

  Andrea DeJesus half stood and shook her hand with a firm grasp. “Didn’t know if you’d remember me.”

  “I always remember people who do my job for me.” Andrea had brought the DEA in on a huge crystal meth bust the year before, and Dale remembered being impressed with the level of detail in the initial investigation. She’d even mentioned to Diego at the time that he should snatch Andrea up for their agency. Dale turned to the chief. “If all your vice detectives are as good as this one, you’ll be putting us out of business.” She started to say something else, but was interrupted by the distinct sound of a clearing throat behind her. She turned just as Lindsey leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

  “Careful, you’re making her blush.”

  Dale looked back and caught sight of a smile on Lindsey’s face, but her eyes flashed a different emotion entirely. Annoyance? Jealousy? Surely not. She decided she was reading too much into a fleeting facial expression and filed it away to examine later. Or not. For now, she’d focus on business. “Ms. Ryan, do you want to go over your questions for Chief Turner while your team sets up?”

  Lindsey stepped back, out of her space. “Great idea, Agent Nelson. Chief, I’d rather ask you questions once we’re on camera so we don’t look rehearsed, but why don’t you give me a little background about how your department got involved in this program?”