Alpha Warrior

by Aimée Thurlo

  Dennis shook hands with her, but obviously aware of Navajo customs, didn’t offer to shake Nick’s. “I’ve been keeping up on events. Somebody’s really testing you this time, Nick,” he said, taking them into the den. The room held three large, overstuffed leather couches and several matching chairs.

  Nick didn’t comment. He had no idea how much Dennis really knew. One established technique for eliciting information was pretending to know far more than you did. People assumed you were already familiar with the facts and spoke much more freely than they normally would.

  “Relax, buddy,” Dennis said, reading Nick’s expression. “I have a secure contact on the tribal PD who exchanges information with me from time to time. That’s how I got the latest about Coyote and those weapons.”

  Nick expelled his breath in a hiss. “That information shouldn’t have gotten out, even to you.”

  “My buddy and I served overseas in the same national guard unit. We’re like brothers. He knew that I work with the Three Rivers PD on occasion, and wanted me to know something was off there, so I’d watch my back.”

  “Yeah, I hear you.” Bonds formed during wartime often stayed with a person for life.

  Dennis offered them a seat on one of the sofas before settling into an easy chair. “So what kind of tracking device are you looking for?”

  “I want something that’s state of the art, and its signal emitter has got to be as small as possible,” Nick said. “I plan on hiding it inside a metal device—nonelectronic, that is.”

  “Not a problem,” Dennis answered. “I’ve got just the thing. It’s not only powerful, it’s also reliable. How long will you need it?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s for a case I’m working on for the PD, but I can’t give you any more details than that.”

  Dennis went into the next room and returned holding a button-size transmitter and a tracking device the size of a deck of cards. “Here you go. This thing won’t let you down. The batteries are good for three months, more if kept under room-temperature conditions.”

  “Thanks,” Nick said, standing up.

  “Find the piece of crap who’s selling out the Three Rivers PD before the bad smell gets on everyone.”

  Nick nodded. “That’s the plan.”

  THEY PULLED OFF THE ROAD AT A rest stop on the outskirts of town. Wearing latex gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints, Nick hollowed out a small recess for the tracking device in the stock of the AK-47.

  “The only way anyone will see the emitter is if they dismantle the weapon, and that isn’t necessary to verify it’s in working condition,” Nick said. He wrapped the rifle in the towel once again and placed it behind the seat.

  “Now we find Koval?” she asked.

  “Yes, and when we get there, stay in the car. I’ll talk to him. I don’t want you involved. If we have a dirty cop, our own brotherhood will find him.”

  She nodded, understanding, and remembering her father’s and uncle’s pride in the department. No one would rest until honor was restored.

  Thirty minutes passed before they met with Koval in front of an empty house with a for-sale sign on the dried-out lawn.

  Koval looked around to make sure they weren’t being watched, an unlikely possibility considering the neighborhood was part of an abandoned development. “This better work.”

  “It will.” Nick handed Koval the wrapped AK-47 along with the paperwork and the GPS receiver.

  As they walked to Koval’s sedan, Drew was no longer able to hear their conversation. Although she knew officers closed ranks when something like this happened, she found herself wishing Nick would share more of his world with her. But this was a side of his life she knew he’d always keep locked away. And maybe that was a good thing. They’d grown too close, and heartbreak was sure to follow when it all finally came to an end.

  When Nick climbed back behind the wheel, he glanced over at her. “We’re done here. Koval will monitor the bug.”

  She stared out the window. “I’m still trying to figure out where I fit into all this. I don’t have a vested interest in what the department does or doesn’t do. Yet, here I am.”

  Nick nodded. “You’re connected in some way. The deleted Web page…do you think you can reconstruct it completely now?”

  “I’m almost there. Let’s go back to your place and I’ll try to finish it up.”

  Matters seemed to be coming together in a rush. That knowledge bit into her hard. Though she’d never regret the time they’d spent together, intuition assured her that a piece of her heart would remain behind when it came time for her to move on and say goodbye. But as she’d known all along, some things were never meant to be.

  ONCE AT NICK’S HOME, she sat at the table with her laptop and tried to recall every detail of her Web page. As she worked, she could hear Nick and Travis in the gym, arguing. Although she tried to block their words out and concentrate on what she was doing, it was difficult not to listen in.

  “There’s a hataalii I know who can do an Enemy Way for you, bro. You haven’t had a full night’s sleep since our unit returned stateside, and you’re exhausted. You have a future in the making now, but if you don’t settle the past—”

  “I can’t think about this right now. I’ve got a case,” Nick roared.

  “You always have a case,” Travis snapped. “Look at yourself. You don’t even heal as fast as you should because of the added weight you carry—all from a false sense of responsibility.”

  One of them closed the door, and their voices faded. She sighed, curious about what they were saying, but knowing she had other responsibilities now.

  Drew stared at the screen and focused on her restoration project. Searching through her image files, she remembered that sometime back she’d made an album to share her special family photos with friends.

  She tried to duplicate it now, going through the various archived images. She smiled as her gaze fell on the old, slightly faded wedding photos of her mom and dad. Her mother’s expression, as she looked at her new husband, spoke softly to Drew, telling her something she’d never realized before. Her mother hadn’t married a cop—she’d followed her heart and married a man she couldn’t live without.

  Drew looked at the next photo. That one had been taken a few months prior to her father’s death. In it, her mother was leaning back against her husband’s chest, gazing up at him. His arms were wrapped around her, and the look in her mother’s eyes spoke of an enduring love, one strong enough to withstand life’s many trials.

  Despite all their troubles, her mother had loved the man she’d chosen, faults and all, to the very end. There were no regrets on her face, just the contentment of a woman who’d known both the cost and the wonder of love.

  Drew wiped the tears that ran down her face, but not before Nick walked into the room.

  Crouching by her side, he took her hand gently. “What’s wrong?”

  “I always thought my father had made my mother’s life a hell on earth,” she whispered. “I saw Dad as a man who was married to his work—and Mom took the leftovers. But I was wrong about them. The truth is right there in those old photos. There’s a lot more to my mom and dad’s story than I ever realized.”

  “Law enforcement can get under a man’s skin. But that doesn’t mean that there’s nothing left at the end of the day. Love is sometimes the only thing that keeps a man from losing himself,” Nick said.

  As she saw herself reflected in the warmth of his eyes, the pull between them overwhelmed all caution. She touched the side of his face in a gentle caress and decided to tell him what was in her heart. Just then, Travis came into the room.

  Looking at both of them, he grinned. “Should I have knocked?”

  Nick glared at his brother.

  Embarrassed, Drew focused back on the computer. “I’ve done all I can to reconstruct my page. It’s still not exact, but the bulk of it is there.”

  “What’s missing?” Nick asked, pressing her.

  “A few phot
os I’d downloaded straight from my cell phone, but there’s nothing remarkable about any of those. They were mostly quick shots of me shopping and showing off things I bought, like a scarf and some shoes I thought were cute.”

  “Put those up on the screen,” Nick said.

  She did as he asked. “See? Nothing spectacular, just stuff I was sharing with my friends.”

  “Make that image larger,” Nick said, his eyes riveted on one of the photos. “Now clear up the background and add flash, so we can get a good look at those people in the background.”

  She did as he asked, then gasped. Standing by the specialty coffee kiosk was Chief Franklin having coffee with two men. One of them was Slick. She didn’t recognize the third man.

  “That’s the same guy in the photo my contact gave me. That’s Coyote,” Nick said.

  “Now it makes sense,” Drew said. “Once I started working at the station, the men figured it would only be a matter of time before I saw Coyote’s photo. They couldn’t take a chance that I’d put things together. I held the key linking Coyote to Chief Franklin.”

  Nick nodded. “Yeah, it makes sense. But we still need proof. All we really have here is a photo of the chief drinking coffee with some guys. He could claim that they shared a table and a brief conversation.”

  “So what do we do now?” she asked.

  “We talk to Beth Michaels. Let’s see if she can tell us how that tracking device got into your manual.”

  After learning that Beth had taken the morning off, Nick and Drew left for her house.

  “You and Travis have made a wonderful home for yourselves,” she said on the way to town. “It’s got everything two guys could ever want.”

  “It lacks…pink,” he answered, with a grin.

  “No it doesn’t,” she said, laughing. “It’s the perfect place for the two of you.”

  “True, it fits us,” he conceded. “We made it that way, just as you did with your apartment. That’s your perfect fit.”

  She shook her head. “My apartment was never a real home. It was more of a…transition place.”

  “How do you define home?”

  “A few weeks ago I would have said that home was a place of security and safety, the center of life well lived.”

  “And now?”

  “Home shouldn’t be static. It should be an ever evolving place, tailored to fit changing needs. The heart of it should remain the same—a place of sanctuary that’s far more than wood and stucco. But home could be a tent, or even on wheels. What makes it home is that sense of place and feeling of peace the people inside give to it.”

  He said nothing for several long moments. “Peace and security weren’t things I ever had, so I never missed them. I went after the opposite. I wanted the adrenaline rush that comes from facing uncertainty and danger. That’s why I became a Marine, and later a cop.”

  “There’s room for both in someone’s life, isn’t there?”

  “For some men, yes, but I’d never trust the things you spoke about. It’s when you’re comfortable and sure of your future that life comes in and blindsides you. I care about making the most of today. Tomorrow can’t be predicted.”

  His answer saddened her because she knew they’d never share a common dream. A part of Nick’s heart would continue to be weighed down by his past. Trying to silence the ache inside her, she looked out the window at the passing cars.

  They arrived at Beth’s twenty minutes later. “You should take the lead here, Drew. You know her as a friend, which means you’re more likely to get straight answers.”

  “Let me see what I can do,” she said.

  The house smelled of disinfectant and medications, something they detected the moment Beth answered the door. Drew suppressed a shudder.

  Beth waved Nick and Drew to chairs around the kitchen table. “I’m surprised to see you guys here. What’s up?”

  “Beth, we have reason to believe that someone in the department set me up from the very beginning,” Drew said, telling her of the homing device in the manual. “What made you choose that particular book?”

  Beth gave her a hard look. “And unless I come up with an answer that satisfies you, you’ll think I’m responsible and working with whoever set you up?” Beth shook her head. “None of what has happened to you is my doing.”

  “I know that because I know you, Beth. But I believe someone used you. Think back. What made you choose that particular manual?”

  Beth sat back and stared at something indeterminate across the room. “I went into the library section of records one afternoon and saw Chief Franklin and Captain Wright. I mentioned that I was trying to find a good reference book that would help with our software and Captain Wright asked me what I’d used. That’s when I remembered the green book. That’s what we called it. I couldn’t find a copy there, but Chief Franklin mentioned that he had one in his bookcase, and he brought it to me later that afternoon.”

  “Did you ever tell him who it was for?” Nick asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Beth met Nick’s gaze. “I know you think that medical bills make me vulnerable to corruption. I’ll admit, even my part of the copay is steep. But my financial troubles are temporary. My husband’s life insurance policy will ultimately take care of all that, and provide well for me for the rest of my days. So where’s my motive, Detective Blacksheep?”

  Nick looked at her. “We already have a good idea who’s behind this—a dirty cop.”

  “So how can I help you?” she asked, without hesitation.

  “Can you get us the security video feed from the evidence room?”

  “I can access anything in records, including the images, but I can’t do it from home. Anything that sensitive has to originate from a work station inside our departmental network, one that’s physically connected to the system. It’s set up with its own firewall, unlike the case files that officers can access from their vehicles with their MDTs or personal laptops, using the proper passwords.”

  “Would you be willing to call it a training session and take us over there right now?” Drew asked.

  “If I do that during the day, it’ll be too easy for us to get caught, even in my private office. And I can’t leave Charlie at night. There’s no one else here to take care of him.”

  Drew nodded. “I have an idea. We could get into those records from any station terminal using your password. Is that right?”

  “But doing something like that could also land you in jail.”

  “I know. It’s a risk.”

  “And not just for you,” Beth said. “If you access those records using my password, you’ll be leaving my calling card.”

  “We don’t have another choice,” Nick said. “We have a bad cop, and we need to bring him out into the open.”

  “All right. I’m the wife of a thirty-year cop, and the department still means a lot to him, and to me. Keeping it clean is worth the risk.”

  Beth took a steadying breath and looked at both of them. “I won’t tell you my password, but no one can blame me if you end up guessing it.” Looking at Drew, she added, “It’s time for me to check on Charlie. He’s always been the center of my life. We’re the same age, both of us born in 1945, and I think that’s why we’ve always had so much in common.”

  Drew nodded to Beth. “Thanks for everything.” Looking at Nick, she stood and gestured to the door. “Let’s go. We have all we need.”

  Moments later, as they set out, Nick kept a close eye on the rearview mirror. “There won’t be any turning back once we start this operation, Drew. You’ll be in too deep. You’re risking everything, and not just your job. Are you sure you’re ready?”

  She nodded. “Someone else started this, but this librarian’s going to finish it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The evening shift was on duty by the time they entered the station. At night, the department had an edgier feel to it. A different type of criminal came through the doors then, and the entire place resonated with the
dangers that thrived in darkness.

  Beth’s private office was away from the records room and down a hall that wasn’t fully covered by surveillance cameras. Leading the way inside and leaving the light off, Drew took Beth’s chair, and turned on her work station and monitor.

  “Close the door,” she whispered to Nick. “We don’t want to attract any extra attention.”

  Drew kept her fingers on the keyboard and entered “1945” then the word “Charlie.” The onscreen message read, “incorrect password.”

  “Try Charlie, then 1945,” he suggested.

  She did, but got the same results.

  “Do you think she gave us the wrong password? Maybe we’ve been set up,” Nick said.

  Drew leaned back and stared at the screen, lost in thought. “She said that Charlie was the center of her life. I thought she was just telling me how she felt, but I think it was more than that.” Drew typed “19,” then Charlie, and finally “45.”

  “Bingo. We’re in.”

  Using the mouse, she accessed the icon for the security cameras, then clicked on the evidence-room images, which were automatically recorded onto a hard drive.

  “These cameras store years of data. They’re on every minute of every day, and it’s all carefully archived. This could take hours, days,” she said, as Nick came to look over her shoulder. “We need to narrow the time frame.”

  “So how do we speed it up?”

  “Give me the serial number of one of the weapons we know were snatched from the evidence room. I can open a window and do a records search. That’ll list when the weapon was logged into the system.”

  Once she had a start date to begin the visual search, Drew scrolled through the video that recorded the hours following the placement of the M-16 assault rifle into storage.

  Seeing a flicker in the feed, Drew suddenly stopped it, then ran it back, frame by frame. “Five minutes are missing,” she said. “There’s a gap in the time stamp. Someone either turned off the cameras, or all four of them stopped working at once.”

  “Not likely. All the electronics in this station have battery backups, too,” Nick said. “Run it back again.”