She rolled her eyes at the thought. Police brutality. The same people who demanded the police to crack down on anything and everything after Arbor Day were softening up. Diane had her orders: Not another Arbor Day. Prison had changed her, she noticed. She’d become harder and far less interested in coddling undeserving criminals.
Diane caught sight of a garbage truck rumbling down a side street and got an idea. “Take me two blocks south of Captain Douchebag,” she commanded.
Hendricks looked confused. “What’s that going to accomplish? We just talked about this jittery goof and his lookouts. You want to take a run at him from further away? Not happening.”
“I need you to trust me on this, okay?”
Hendricks frowned and stared straight ahead for a moment, then made another right turn. “You screw this up, I’m not sticking up for you, got it?”
“Loud and clear. Hang back and wait for my signal.”
“What signal?”
Diane smiled. “You’ll know. Drop me off here.”
The car had barely come to a halt when Diane bolted from the passenger side. She slammed the door behind her and crouched behind a line of cars waiting at a stoplight. She disappeared, and Hendricks craned his neck looking for where she had gone. The light changed, and vehicles started to pass by from left to right. He yelped in surprise at the sight of Diane clinging to the back of a delivery truck. She peeked around the right side of the cargo box to get her bearings.
Hendricks pulled the cruiser tight to the curb. He was in a no parking zone but wouldn’t face any consequences for it. Cops didn’t cite other cops. There was a code.
Diane felt her pulse quicken as she cleared the next intersection. She bent her knees and prepared to spring into action. Seconds later, she spotted her target giving another handshake. She leapt from the truck and took large running steps toward him, shoulder-tackling him into the wall. His customer dropped the object he’d been handed. A vial of green and white pills spilled on the sidewalk. The customer scooped up a few pills and ran away. Diane drove her knee into the dealer’s back and pulled her sidearm from its holster. She pressed the barrel of the gun into the back of the man’s neck. “You’re under arrest for the unlawful sale and distribution of a Class X controlled substance.”
“You don’t got crap on me. You can’t prove dick,” he spat.
She patted his left pocket. “Figure I can. I’m running you in. Hands behind your back, or bullet in your skull. Pick one.”
“I got rights, pig bitch,” he said.
“I’ve got a gun, dumbass. I win.” She spun the weapon around in her hand and struck him across the back of his head. The man fell unconscious on the pavement. Diane shook him with her left hand, then holstered her weapon. She squeezed her radio and leaned into her left shoulder.
“Come and get it, Hendricks.”
The police cruiser emerged from around the corner two blocks away and flashed its blue and white lights. Cars and people scattered as Hendricks pulled up to the curb and stepped out of the cruiser. “Do I need to call a hearse?”
“Nope.” She cuffed the man and flipped him over. Her pride lessened as she recognized a face from her most wanted list. Taking him down in her free time would have bagged her $500, but she figured 10 percent of that was $100 which beat nothing at all. “But you can tell the boys back at the precinct to make a new top ten list.” She produced a folded copy of her flyer and Hendricks nodded appreciatively.
“Dino Caprese. I’d call that a positive ID. Good work, Pembrook.”
Diane pulled off the man’s coat and frisked him. “Let’s run his stupid ass in. I’m not losing credit for this one.”
“Rodger dodger,” Hendricks said, and called in the arrest. As Diane hoisted the man up onto his feet as he regained consciousness with his hands cuffed securely behind his back, an elderly woman stepped forward and gave Diane a thumbs-up.
Diane nodded to the woman and motioned for her to step back. “Just doing our job, ma’am. Stay safe.” She pushed the dealer’s head down as she stuffed him into the back of the cruiser. She slammed the door triumphantly. Hendricks patted her on the back before stepping around to the driver’s side.
After Diane was seated in the cruiser and buckled in, she stared through her window at the crowd. People were beginning to return to their daily business. A few hangers-on shouted encouragement to the officers, and insults to the man in the back seat. She smiled and nodded, recalling the last time she had attracted a similar crowd of supportive civilians. It was her who was cuffed in the back seat.
It felt good to be the hero and in the front seat. Caprese shifted in his seat and spat. “Let’s get this show on the road, huh? I’ve got bail to post.”
“No rush,” Diane said, not looking away from the crowd. “You’re not going anywhere I don’t want you to go.”
“The hell does that mean?”
Diane turned to Hendricks, who gaped at her with a questioning look. “Drive.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Diane and Hendricks hustled the drug dealer into the station and bent him over the front desk. Sergeant Parcells looked up from a glowing tablet. “Caprese?”
“The one and only,” Diane said, beaming.
Caprese looked up with one eye as his cheek remained pressed to the desk. “Nice place. Looks like no more kiddie-garten for the city’s finest.”
Parcells directed the officers to stand the suspect upright. He took retinal and fingerprint scans, then a photo of his smirking face. To Caprese’s chagrin, he did it without uncuffing him. Two intake officers grabbed him by the arms and marched him down a plain corridor. Diane heard a door buzz and he vanished from sight quickly afterward.
Hendricks gave Diane an appreciative pat on the butt. “That’s how we do it at Panther,” he said. “Too bad he’ll be out of here inside of an hour.”
“Not today,” Diane said. She headed to an open desk and plopped down in a sleek black chair. Hendricks leaned against the desk and gave her a questioning look.
“No? Every cell we toss him in might as well have a revolving door. He cools his heels for a little while, then bail clears, and it’s sayonara, Dino.”
Diane tapped away at a tablet. “I’m betting every time he’s ever been caught he wasn’t in a green zone.”
Hendricks frowned. “Can’t say he was. Wait, what’s a green zone?”
Diane tapped a bit more at the tablet, then showed him the screen. A green circle occupied a portion of a satellite photo. Hendricks squinted at it, then gave a nod of recognition. “Wait, is this the city center? Well, the old city center, I mean. Which means we picked him up over here, right? What’s so special about that place?”
“He was within 500 feet of a school,” she said.
Her partner’s eyes widened. “Hot damn, Pembrook. That means—”
“It means no bail for Dino. He’s looking at a minimum sentence of ten years.” Diane continued to tap away at the tablet and complete her report. She tapped a yellow icon and waited for Caprese’s photo and print sets to populate her report. Once the images loaded, she saved the report and submitted it for batch processing.
Hendricks scratched his head. “Wait, since when did we start calling them green zones?”
Diane stood up and patted his shoulder. “They’ve always been called that.” She smiled and headed off to the restroom.
She returned just in time to see Officer Goodwin walk in, accompanied by Officer Gupta. Unlike Diane and her partner, the two officers were empty-handed. She wondered if Goodwin winged another suspect.
Hendricks stepped forward. “Whoa, Goodwin, don’t tell me you didn’t bring anything to the picnic.”
Gupta grunted and excused himself. Goodwin’s eyes betrayed a flash of fear, then he stiffened. “For your information, officer, we rang up three hundred bucks in parking tickets.” He glared at Diane. “You’re welcome. Again.”
“Good job,” Hendricks said. “Every dollar counts these days. Police st
ations don’t build themselves.” He gestured to the brand-new facility, still under construction.
Diane twirled her finger. “Parking tickets. Whoopee.”
Goodwin walked up to her and leaned into her face. “Yes, parking tickets, Pembrook. Unlike certain wastes of roster space, I contribute to the bottom line.” He curled his lips into a derisive sneer. “That’s a plussy-plus-plus on my record. What crimes against humanity have you pulled today, huh?”
Diane felt adrenaline shoot through her veins. She fought it with everything she had, refusing to lose her cool in the middle of the station. She took a moment to collect herself, then said through gritted teeth, “I took down one of the top ten most wanted.” She shot an annoyed glance at Hendricks for not backing her up. “You’re welcome.”
Goodwin took a step back and looked to Hendricks for confirmation. “Who was she trying to shoot, the mayor?”
“Senator Heller,” he said grinning.
“For your goddamned information, it was Dino stinking Caprese, and they’re probably done strip-searching him, if you want to stop by and say hello.”
Goodwin took a step back, then gave her a slimy smirk. “Caprese, huh? Never heard of him. He can’t have been too important, if you took him down.”
Diane turned beet red and rushed forward. She stuck her index finger parallel to Goodwin’s nose and let loose with a torrent of insults. Hendricks got between them and pushed her away. Diane screamed at her partner not to interfere with Goodwin getting what he had coming to him when the ruckus was stopped cold by another male voice.
“Pembrook. My office. Now.”
First Lieutenant Kenner stood in the doorway to his freshly constructed office and glared at Diane. She felt her blood turn to ice at the sight of him. Great, she thought, another black mark on my record. Just what I needed. “Yes, sir,” she said feebly. She brushed past Goodwin and shuffled into Kenner’s office, who slammed the door behind her.
Kenner arm-pointed to one of the chairs aimed at his desk. “Have a seat.” Diane obeyed, and looked away as he bent over to pluck something out of a small refrigerator. She heard air hissing and metallic clicking, then ice landing in a pair of glasses. Fizzy pouring sounds followed. She looked up in time to see Kenner handing her a glass of foaming brown liquid. “Drink,” he said. It wasn’t a suggestion.
She nodded and took a sip. Cold cola tickled her nose. Kenner drained the remainder of the can into his glass and sat behind his impressive desk. He wasn’t chief yet, Diane noted, but he was definitely warming up for the big day. He took a gulp of his soda and grimaced. He let out a satisfied sigh and leaned back in his chair, cradling his glass. “That’s two,” he said.
Diane glanced over at the shelving unit that housed the fridge. A dented can of Blast cola sat alone. She recalled drinking it with Kenner after taking down the Toros, and assumed he was keeping track of how many glasses of his beloved soda she had drank. “Thank you, sir.”
He gave her an odd look, then took another swig. “First you took out that dead-ender and flushed out that rat of a lead detective. Now you’ve bagged the ninth most wanted. Message received, Pembrook, loud and clear. You have my attention.”
Diane sipped the cola and suppressed an involuntary cough. “Thank you, sir. Just doing my job.”
Kenner shook his head. “Yeah, except you’re not. Gupta and Goodwin did their jobs and ticketed a few cars that are going to get hauled away and sent to the scrapyard. All part of the recovery process, Pembrook. You’re not content to just go out on patrol. You go out and hunt.”
“I’ve just been darn lucky, really, sir. I didn’t have to hunt very hard.”
“Don’t give me that false modesty crap. You’ve been on my radar before. I’ll admit that I’ve been focused on other initiatives and haven’t had time to drill down on your career goals. You’ve brought them to me, Pembrook, and I respect that. Young guns like Goodwin could learn a thing or two from you.”
Diane liked receiving praise at Goodwin’s expense. She shrugged and smiled. “I’m happy to help the team any way I can,” she said.
“Good, good. That’s what I like to hear.” He patted a folder on his desk and slid it toward her. “How’d you like a little side project?”
Diane set her glass on the floor and opened the folder. She riffled through a few pages of typed text until she found a photo of a man taken from a security camera. She looked up at him and nodded. “Absolutely, sir.”
He smiled and jutted his chin toward the folder. “Eyes only, Pembrook. Meaning you don’t discuss a word of this outside of this room, understood?” Diane nodded. “Great. Here’s the deal: ever since Arbor, crime is up. Way up. Not that I have to tell you that. The thing is, it’s not as bad as it looks. We just need to take out some key players and word will get out that this city doesn’t piss around. They’ll take their crap elsewhere, and we’ll have safer streets for everyone. It’s a slam-dunk.”
Diane wasn’t sure what that meant, but his tone was upbeat, and she responded accordingly. “I’m on it like white on rice, sir.” Hendricks liked to say that.
“That’s the spirit. Anyway, in order to send the right message, we’ve had to make some adjustments in our operational structure. Don’t get me wrong, this city has had a fine police force for many, many years. Fantastic men and women have fought and served to protect and uphold the law. But it’s a new era, Pembrook. Times have changed. Patrol officers and detectives used to be enough to keep the crap from getting out of hand, but we need to adapt. And that’s what we’re doing, Pembrook, one step at a time. First, we scrapped the old precinct model and went with divisions, like Panther and Eagle. Next, we rolled out a program to upgrade and enhance our facilities.” He gestured to the four walls of his office. “Top of the line stuff. They’ve got a ways to go before this station is fully online, but you can see how far we’ve come from that old schoolhouse.”
Diane nodded and resisted the urge to remind him that she still occupied a room in the converted school. She assumed he was aware of the arrangement but didn’t want to risk getting kicked out without a solid backup plan in place. “It’s awesome, sir.”
Kenner looked off into the middle distance for a moment, then took another gulp of his soda. “Yes, indeed. The cell blocks are almost finished. That’s part of the strategy. Lock them up in solitary and take the fight out of them. Stick ‘em in front of a firing squad if they’re tough nuts. Sooner or later, the message will get out there.”
Diane disliked the reminder of her time in the cell block but kept up a brave front. “Absolutely, sir.”
He leaned forward. “Here’s what this means for you: we’ve got a new team coming online to sniff out the big rats and smoke them out of their holes. They’re law enforcement officers, like you and me. They just… they’re empowered to operate with a certain level of discretion to conduct their operations.”
Diane flipped back to the first page in the folder. It was titled SPECIAL NEIGHBORHOOD OPERATIONS POLICE ENHANCEMENT AND–a word she wasn’t familiar with. She tried sounding it out in her head but didn’t want to appear distracted while Kenner was talking. “How do I fit in to this?”
He smiled and finished his soda. “Report to room 305. You’ll be briefed there.” He stood up and Diane took the cue to get up as well. She held up the folder in acknowledgment and Kenner plucked it from her hand. “Eyes only, I said. This stays here. You go to room 305. Dismissed.”
“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.” Diane walked ahead of Kenner, who in turn slapped her on the butt. She looked back and met his leering eyes.
“Hustle,” he said, and she did. She wasn’t sure if he was being supportive or making a play for her. Either way, it felt… creepy. Sapphire tried to warn her, she recalled grimly. She was too sheltered to realize it.
Diane climbed the stairs to the third floor. She passed up the elevator in favor of the sensation of advancing up a level under her own power. This floor had been recently constructed and deemed oper
ational, however most of the officers and staff remained on the lower levels. Much lower, in the case of the cell blocks. Diane shuddered at the thought of it and relished the briefing she’d been sent to receive. She wished Kenner had given her a solid idea of what assignment she had accepted but being in Kenner’s good graces was enough for her. The rest would fall into place. She was sure of it.
Unfortunately, five doors lined the walls of the polished and stark white hallway. 300 was the first, ending at 304. Diane hunted around for room 305. She reached an elevator bank instead. She cocked her head and traced her path back to the stairs. She passed the same five doors. Room 305 didn’t appear to exist. She didn’t find an unmarked door, or similar clue that there might be a secret branch of the police force nearby. She snorted at the thought. Of course a secret police force wasn’t going to have a sign saying that anywhere.
She shook the door handle to room 304, but it did not budge. Nobody stepped into the hallway to inquire why she was up there. She looked up and spotted a security camera dome. Her eyes swept across the ceiling, and her heart jumped at the realization she was being watched at all points of her fruitless search. She gestured to a camera, hoping to prompt someone to come to her. Nobody did.
She shrugged and decided to circle back to ask Kenner to clarify his instructions. Maybe he had the room number wrong. Maybe she was in the wrong building. Or maybe, she thought darkly, this was a set-up and her fellow officers were enjoying the goose chase she’d been sent on. Kenner wasn’t the fun and games type, she assured herself. If he liked you, he gave you special projects and recognition. If not, well, that was a good time to worry.
She noticed a gap in the spacing of the doors. Either room 304 was some sort of conference room, or people weren’t supposed to notice this detail. She ran her fingers along the wall between room 304 and the first set of elevator doors. She reached the elevator and frowned. The call button was between the second and third set of doors. She waved her hand around the first elevator doors, then patted around the frame, expecting a secret access panel to appear. She wasn’t willing to rule anything out.
A Dangerous and Cunning Woman Page 7