by Roger Johns
The waiter brought their food, but she pushed hers aside, no longer hungry. “I’ve been advised to file a grievance against you,” she said.
“I know, and I’m not telling you not to. I’m not allowed to tell you not to.”
“I don’t want to.” She looked past him at the decommissioned naval vessel moored along the pier. “I think you were wrong about how I handled Mike and I think you were wrong to take me off the case. I’ll probably always think that and you’ll probably always think exactly the opposite.”
Burley pushed his lower lip out and tilted his head. “What you think or I think may be less important to your career than what the official record says.”
Wallace gave him an irritated, dismissive wave. “I want things between us to be the way they were. If I drag in pressure from the outside, that’ll never happen.” She hunched over the table, leaning on her elbows.
“That’s probably true. So, what pathway do you suggest we take to get back to the way things were before?”
Wallace sat up straight, and a tentative smile flirted with her expression. Burley wasn’t saying it directly, but it seemed he was admitting that turning the clock back was important to him as well. She knew there was a price for everything, but he was inviting her to open the bidding.
“Was the reassignment of the case ever made official?”
“Afraid so. And there’s no way to reel it back in. In the old days, when everything was paper, files with inconvenient information could be lost. Not so easy now, and besides, that leaves tracks that are like blood in the water to the sharks in Internal Affairs.”
“But the contents of the file could be modified or added to, to reflect a more convenient truth.”
“That would be a little easier and certainly attract less attention.” He gave her a wary, amused look, like her cards weren’t as good as she thought they were.
“Perhaps the file should reflect that the new detectives were not displacing me. It’s possible, given the complexity and gravity of the case, that they were actually being added to my team?”
“That wouldn’t stop Internal Affairs from investigating your role in the demise of Don Brindl.”
“I’m not worried about that. Honestly, I almost don’t care what they say. Besides, that’s not an issue between you and me. Unless you have to testify against me in the hearing.”
“Why would they be interested in hearing me go on about why I was assigning additional personnel to your case?”
“So we have a deal?”
Burley laughed. “A deal implies both parties get something. What’s in it for me?”
“What do you want?”
Burley looked at her, as if he were surprised by her question. “Don’t quit me.”
“Excuse me?” Wallace nearly choked on her coffee.
“Just don’t quit.” He leaned forward and looked her square in the eye. “I know what it looks like when an officer feels like they’ve had it up to here, like they’re not making a difference anymore. I’ve lost too many good people because they lost hope. And now, this fatalistic attitude you’ve got about the upcoming investigation, it’s like you’ve already decided that if you don’t like what you see coming, you’ll just pack up your little kit bag and move on. Don’t.”
“Come on. Surely you want more than that.” She leaned back in her chair. “This is just too easy. You know what I think?”
“Tell me.” The amused look was back.
“I think I see Colley’s blackmailing little fingerprints all over this.”
“Busted.” He threw his hands up in mock exasperation, but his expression was completely unreadable.
“I can always ask Colley. He tells me everything.”
Burley roared with laughter, then slid his phone across the table to her. “You want me to dial his number for you?” His expression became serious again. “The force needs you to stay. I need you to stay.”
Wallace could feel her eyes starting to sting. “That night, outside the interrogation room, where you had Arthur Staples? The way you railed at me before throwing me off the case—it felt personal.” This was the real quid pro quo for her, and she could see that Burley understood. The business with the file wouldn’t mean anything unless he was willing to cross this last bit of distance between them. Fear rose in her as Burley let the silent seconds tick by. “I won’t quit, but it won’t work with that still hanging in the air.” She leaned forward, feeling as if she couldn’t breathe.
“You’re right. Things were out of control and I lashed out at you because you were there. It was wrong.” He looked directly at her. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
She inhaled deeply. “All square?” she asked.
“All square.”
About the Author
ROGER JOHNS is a former corporate lawyer and college professor with law degrees from Louisiana State University and Boston University. He was born and raised in Louisiana, though he and his wife now live in Georgia. Dark River Rising is his first novel. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
DARK RIVER RISING. Copyright © 2017 by Roger Johns. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.minotaurbooks.com
Cover design by David Baldeosingh Rotstein
Cover photographs: landscape © Mario Tama / Getty Images; woman © Olesia Bilkei / Shutterstock.com; trees © Stepmorem / Shutterstock.com
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-11009-1 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-11011-4 (ebook)
eISBN 9781250110114
Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at [email protected].
First Edition: August 2017
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