by Aimée Thurlo
Chief Franklin glanced toward the office area, catching Koval’s attention. “What’s your take, Harry?”
“Some protection seems appropriate,” Koval said. “The way things went down indicates a certain level of planning.”
Drew glanced around the room. She wouldn’t have minded some extra patrols around her apartment, and maybe someone who’d drop by—often—but she didn’t like being discussed as if her right to decide for herself had suddenly vanished. That’s the way it had been most of her life, but she was on her own now and didn’t have to take orders from anyone.
She was about to make her wishes known in no uncertain terms, when Captain Wright suddenly whispered something in the chief’s ear.
A moment later the chief looked up at her, then at Nick. “Detective Blacksheep, you’ve had more than your share of publicity lately. Photos were taken of you tonight by those reporters outside the building, and they’re probably already on the Internet and will be in the local paper by morning. Since you’ve become a high-profile officer, your undercover assignments are effectively over, so I’m assigning you to protect Drew Simmons until further notice. You’ll report to Detective Koval and Captain Wright. They’ll update me.”
“Chief, you can’t pull me off my cases,” Nick protested. “I’m getting close to identifying Coyote. I’ve got a photo to work with now, so it’s just a matter of time before I can get his real name, and maybe set up a sting. Let me see this one through, otherwise months of work will be lost.”
“You have your orders. Turn over your active case files, photos and all, to Detective Koval. He’ll reassign them to other detectives.”
“Wait one darned minute,” Drew said, finally managing to get a word in. “I have a say in this, too, and there’s no way I’m going into protective custody and hiding out. I’m in the middle of training for a job with this department and I need to finish what I’ve started. I support myself, and that means I need to work.”
Earl narrowed his eyes at her, then in a voice that left no doubt he was issuing a direct order, told her, “Take the protection, Drew.”
“Your job will be held for you,” Chief Franklin added, and looked at Beth, who nodded.
“Keep the reference materials and your laptop, and you can study away from the office,” Beth said.
“For the time being, I see no reason why you can’t come to work, too,” Chief Franklin added. “There’s no safer place for you than this station. Detective Blacksheep can work out the particulars for you.”
“Ms. Simmons will need a place to stay starting tonight,” Nick said.
“Accompany her to her residence so she can pick up some essentials, then take her to one of our safe houses,” Franklin said.
Drew fought hard to stay calm. She didn’t want to be placed in anyone’s care. Yet, to turn down police protection would mean risking another encounter with the men who’d come after her.
She took a deep breath. If she had to accept help, then it would be on her own terms. She’d take responsibility for herself and demand a say in every decision that affected her. Not that Nick would make that easy. He was obviously strong-willed—but so was she.
NICK LED DREW ACROSS the bullpen and picked up his badge and handgun from Captain Wright.
Nick then went to his bullpen work station and began transferring his case files to Koval’s network folder. “I could have closed this gun-running case if I’d been given just a little more time,” he said, and muttered an oath.
“This is no picnic for either of us,” Drew answered, putting on a borrowed coat. “But maybe this will be over soon. Detective Koval might find some answers after he does a little more digging.” Seeing the open skepticism on Nick’s face, she added, “But you don’t think so, do you?”
“Unless it’s an ex-boyfriend stalker, cases like these can often take weeks—or months,” he said, then finished transferring the electronic files to Koval. Taking folders containing the hard copies from his bottom drawer, he strode over to Koval’s desk and dropped them down with a thump. “My files and my notes. Now you’ve got everything.”
“You said you were close to identifying the arms dealer supplying those cartels south of the border. Just how close are you?” Koval pressed.
“I had a contact who was going to set up a buy. If the supplier matched the photo of The Coyote we’ve got on file, I was set to take him down. My contact’s name is on the file, but he won’t deal with anyone he doesn’t know. I spent months getting him to trust me.”
“Maybe another detective can get in using your name.”
Nick shook his head. “Too dangerous. Whoever takes over the case will need to build some street cred and work their way in.”
Returning to Drew’s side, Nick led her to the side door. “From this point on, you’re going to do exactly as I say,” he snapped. “Follow my orders and we’ll both stay alive.”
“No problem—just as long as I happen to agree with what you’re saying.”
“My job’s to make sure nobody snatches you, or worse. If I tell you to do something, do it.”
It was that same no-negotiation tone her father and uncle had been famous for at home, and it made her bristle. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at him. “We have something in common, Detective Blacksheep. I want to stay alive, and you want to keep me that way. But I won’t be treated like an idiot. We’ll work together to accomplish our mutual goal, but I’m not your subordinate, and never will be. Am I clear?”
“Perfectly. But here’s the thing. When people are coming at you with fists or guns, there’s no time for discussions,” he said, glaring at her. “I’m trained to deal with life-and-death situations. You’re not. If you want to live, do as you’re told.”
“I know the difference between an emergency and an insufferable ego. Do you?”
He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.
She took a calming breath. “I get why you’re angry, but don’t take your frustrations out on me. There are a lot of women who’d probably be thrilled to let you take charge and follow in your footsteps, but I’m not one of them.”
Nick ran an exasperated hand through his hair. So much for the sweet young thing he’d wanted to comfort. A day that had started off wrong was getting worse by the second.
“Wait right here—inside the building and away from the front entrance. I’m going to get my Jeep.” It hadn’t been a request, but he could see her weighing her options. “You want to avoid becoming an open target.”
Accepting the logic, she nodded. “I tend to react very badly to people who give me orders, so think of me as an intelligent asset, not just an added responsibility.”
“Stay here,” Nick repeated, then hurried to where he’d left his Jeep. Unfortunately, he learned from one of the mechanics that his MDT had been sent to the shop to have the power supply replaced, so he’d have to do without it until a spare was located. He could have taken one of the department’s unmarked cars, but they were all easily recognizable fleet vehicles.
Five minutes later they were headed west on Central Avenue, away from the city center. Pulling up to a stoplight, Nick looked around, always on alert mode while a sitting target.
“The arms dealer case sounded interesting. That Coyote person, do you think he lives in Three Rivers?” Drew asked, mostly to make conversation.
“I can’t talk about an ongoing investigation,” he said. “Especially someone else’s.”
“Are you going to stay in this foul mood forever?” she countered. “For the record, if I’d been given a choice, I wouldn’t have chosen you either.”
That was a first. He’d never had much of a problem with women, except for the ones who wanted a “relationship.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. If you’d had your choice, who would you have chosen? That crime-scene tech who went queasy carrying your purse? Or maybe you would have rather had by-the-book Koval.”
“Actually, Nick, I wouldn’t have
picked a person at all. I’d have chosen a forty-five Colt, like my father carried, and found someone who could teach me how to use it.”
He laughed out loud. “If it’s any consolation, my nine millimeter SIG Sauer and I will be right by your side.”
Drew adjusted her shoulder belt, then slipped her hands under her thighs. She hadn’t been able to stop shaking since they’d left the station. “Something’s not right,” she said, looking through the rear window, then out the side mirror.
“What’s up? Do you see something?”
“No, but I’m getting a very bad feeling—the creepy crawlies, you know?”
Nick glanced in the rearview mirror, and as he did, a sedan came out of a side street and drove up slowly. The driver eased forward, then casually pulled up beside them in the left-hand lane.
Nick glanced at the driver, but all he saw was a dark cap pulled low over the man’s face. The man leaned over toward the open passenger-side window as if about to ask directions, then suddenly raised a pistol. “Stay away from Drew!” he yelled.
Nick stomped on the gas pedal at the same time he shoved Drew down on the seat. The Jeep roared into the intersection just as the man fired. Nick felt a thud behind his back as he swerved to his left, cutting off the shooter’s car, then shifted gears and floored the Jeep.
Drew raised up slightly to look in her side mirror. “He’s still back there, trying to come up on my side now.”
“Stay down!” Nick pumped the brakes, then drew his handgun and looked to his right, ready to fire if the shooter pulled up even.
As the shooter’s car swung wide left, crossing the center line, Nick also cut left, sliding around the corner and taking the cross street.
Slamming on the brakes this time, Nick pulled a one-eighty, sliding completely around in the road. Shifting down, he floored the pedal again and raced back to the intersection.
“Now we’re on your tail,” he muttered, concentrating on his next move.
The sedan had more horsepower than his Jeep and was pulling away. Steering with his left hand, Nick called police dispatch as he continued pursuit right into the warehouse district.
“We’re going to lose him,” Drew shouted, trying hard to keep the fleeing car in sight.
“No way.” Nick shifted down.
The sedan took another right and Nick went after it, brushing a metal trash can that was spinning like a top after being struck by the sedan.
“Which way did he go?” Drew asked, when they reached the next street.
Nick screeched to a stop. “There,” he pointed.
The city’s largest municipal lot was straight ahead. Nick whipped out into the street and crossed over to the lot entrance.
An exit across the parking area showed at least three pairs of taillights going out.
“He’s going out the other side,” Drew said. “Can you back up and circle around?” Although she was terrified of actually catching up to the man, she was even more afraid of losing him.
Nick checked the mirror. A big pickup was now pulling out of a slot behind him. They were trapped in place.
“He’s gone,” Drew said, biting back tears of frustration. “We’ll never catch up now.”
Nick made the call to the station and put out an ATL, an attempt to locate. “You knew we were in trouble even before the shooter’s car came into view. What keyed you to that?”
“I don’t know. But I’ve learned never to ignore a feeling of impending danger.” She jammed her hands into her coat, needing the warmth—inside and out.
Silence stretched out between them, and, noting the pallor of her face, he continued in a gentler voice. “For now, the man’s gone and it’s over. I doubt we’ll get anywhere with that ATL. Based on past experiences, I’m betting that the car was probably stolen and will turn up abandoned somewhere, wiped clean of prints or destroyed by fire.”
“But something odd’s going on. There was only one guy in that car, not two like before. If both of them had come at us, they would have had a better chance to…kill us,” she added in a strangled voice. “So what happened to the other man?”
“Maybe they figured that we’d be on the alert for two men. Or you might have left a mark on the one you slugged in the face that would have identified him.”
“Where are we going now?”
“Back to the station. We need a debrief and a new plan. After the chief hears what just happened, he may decide that you’re better off getting out of town altogether.”
“This is turning out to be a very long night,” Drew said, swallowing hard and slumping down in her seat.
Nick gave her a quick glance. Drew was holding on by a thread, but somehow, she wasn’t falling apart. The librarian had turned out to be one helluva woman. “Keep in mind that you’ve come out ahead. You’re alive, unhurt, and, if you face any more trouble, you’ve got the best backup in the state right next to you.”
“You know what? I believe you,” she murmured.
Though her words had been barely above a whisper, he heard her and smiled.
Chapter Four
As they rode back to the station, only the road noise from the Jeep’s knobby tires marred the silence.
“Give me something to work with, Drew. Everyone makes enemies, and I need to know what I’m up against,” Nick pressed. “Everyone in your line of work makes enemies, but not in mine,” she said. “I’ve wanted to work at the Willa Cather Public Library ever since high school,” she said, softly. “Books have always been my first love. They saw me through the worst times of my life. I was only fifteen when my dad died unexpectedly. My mother never got over it, and followed him to the grave a year later. Uncle Earl took me in, but grieving for my parents was a long, hard process, and books gave me the only comfort I had. They transported me anywhere I wanted to be. Through them, I became a spy, a detective, and had adventures with elves and superheroes.”
He’d never been one for fancy daydreams, but adventures with elves? He glanced out the window so she couldn’t see him smiling.
“As I got older I knew I wanted a job that would help me guide others into that safe world where imagination was king. That’s why I became a librarian. To be offered a position in the place that started it all for me was like icing on the cake. But things haven’t exactly gone as I’d planned.”
“What about your competitors for the job? Anyone with hard feelings there?”
“Nick, think about it. Librarians don’t hire hit men.”
As they pulled into the station’s underground parking garage, Nick climbed out, then stopped and examined his side of the Jeep. There was a single bullet hole in the side panel just behind his door. The round had passed through, entering the back of his seat. There was no exit hole, so the round was probably still inside the upholstery.
Seeing Earl Simmons standing by the stairwell door, Nick hurried over with Drew. “Anything on the shooter?” Nick asked.
Though Earl held the door open for Drew, he never even glanced at her. “We’ve already located the shooter’s vehicle. It was stolen,” he told Nick. “The crime scene people are on their way now.”
“There’s a round lodged in the driver’s-side back rest somewhere,” Nick said. “I accelerated just before he squeezed the trigger.”
Captain Wright strode down the hall toward them. “What the heck happened, Blacksheep?”
Chief Franklin came around the corner just then. “Let’s go into my office and talk about this.”
They all gathered inside the chief’s office. Earl Simmons had come in as well, followed by Detective Harry Koval, who closed the door behind him as Nick and Drew caught everyone up to date.
“Is it possible the shooter followed you from the station?” Captain Wright asked.
“I kept watch and saw no one, so I can’t tell you how he pulled it off,” Nick said. “But here’s what I do know. Drew saw something I missed. I don’t know how, but she knew that something wasn’t right before the attempted hit went dow
n.”
Drew sighed as all eyes turned to her. She’d been through this before with the men in her family. Police officers preferred to deal with tangible concepts, and woman’s intuition didn’t qualify. Intending to give it her best shot anyway, she answered the questions in their eyes. “Have any of you ever known that someone was behind you without turning around? Or maybe had the feeling the phone was going to ring, and it did?”
“No,” came the unanimous reply.
“All right. Let’s try this from a different angle. Think of your experiences out in the field—like maybe a time when you knew a suspect was going to bolt, or reach for his weapon, even though he hadn’t moved.”
“Feelings like those are usually based on something concrete, like a change of expression, or a flicker of movement,” Nick said. “They’re explainable. Think back and concentrate. What triggered the feeling you got in the car?”
Drew sighed. They had to have it in black and white, but intuition was intangible and didn’t work that way. Still, she closed her eyes and tried her best. “The streets were almost empty. I was looking ahead at the path cut by the Jeep’s headlights when I began to feel uneasy. I looked in the rearview mirror, and that’s when I saw the sedan behind us. After it closed in, everything went crazy.”
“The shooter yelled, telling me to stay away from Drew,” Nick said. “He knew her name.”
“I heard him clearly, too, but I didn’t recognize the voice,” Drew said.
“So we’re back to the stalker angle,” Chief Franklin said. “The shooter is jealous and possessive, but you still have no idea who he is?”
“No, I don’t,” Drew answered.
Wright looked at Nick. “You should start wearing a vest, Nick. You, too, Ms. Simmons.”
“From what you’ve said, Blacksheep, it appears the gunman had a plan.” Koval’s slow, methodical voice held everyone’s attention. “To stay ahead of him we’ll have to come up with a better one. We can start by having me cover the outside of whatever place you stay at tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll see where the investigation leads.”
