by R. T. Wolfe
She skimmed the entries as she blocked Stocky's escape. "Manhattan, Buffalo, Binghamton. Lisa Jones. Jimmy Thomas. How have they gotten away with this shit for so long using such lame ass covers?"
"We've got a few blatant sex-for-money offers. Some details that weren't coded." They gave each other a look that made her want to lose her lunch.
"We can bust their balls for vice when this is over," she said as she flipped through entries. "I hope you two weren't getting your rocks off. The A.D.A. has cameras in this room." She was joking but suddenly realized how warm it was in here. Hopefully, it was from all the equipment rather than from two IT geeks jerking off.
"I'm kidding gentlemen, but you—" She pointed to Stocky. "—need to get the hell out of here."
"Yes, ma'am."
He stood, but she barely noticed. Her eyes had locked in on a tryst arranged between a Wendy Douglas and someone whose code name was House Guest.
"The Guest House," she mumbled. She picked up her cell and called Eddy. "I've got something," she said.
"Now? The press conference is in ten, and you lost the coin toss."
She did, didn't she? "It will take five. Get your butt in here."
"Press conference. Coin toss."
"Damn it."
* * *
Her captain took point. He preferred to do these things close to five o'clock. It was what the public thought was police business closing time. As if. Press conference and run. She'd barely made it in time for the opening statement.
"We are gathered here today—"
Nickie ground her teeth together to keep from laughing.
"—to update you on the Juracek murder investigation. Questions following will be limited due to the sensitivity of an open case. Detectives Savage and Lynx are the lead detectives and will provide any and all information possible at this time."
Dave didn't mention the third-shift beat cop and A.D.A., who stood out of sight behind the curtains. Nickie glanced their way. Parker had ditched the sagging punk cover, and was back to the stiff, humble way she was used to. He stood ramrod straight, facing the podium—except his eyes, which craned in the direction of the assistant district attorney.
Nickie counted fifteen reporters. She recognized the one from Binghamton and another from Rochester. Too bad they weren't as interested when a murder victim was a runaway or one of the homeless that ended up with a knife in his or her side and left in the hills or by the lake.
"Detective Savage will be briefing you this afternoon," the captain said in closing. He stepped out of the way and she stepped forward. "Followed by only a few questions, please," he reminded the silent group on her behalf.
The room was small, but full. She stood behind the wooden podium and glanced out to the people, all dressed in business suits, some with notepads, some with recorders held high like lighters at a concert.
It was a necessary hoop to jump through, and one she'd done dozens of times before. So, why did it bother her so much this time? The eyes that stared back at her seemed to say much the same. They knew this was a dog and pony show. Some would be eager, hoping to make her slip up and say something they could paste on the top of tomorrow's front page.
It was then she detected eyes that were much more personal to her. They were a deep brown, nearly black, and they matched the waves in his hair that framed the sharp lines in his face. Duncan. She would never admit the way he sent a melody of clarity through her. Blinking, she looked down at the podium before anyone realized she was staring and looked over to see why.
"The investigation of the death of Mr. William Juracek of Jackson & Juracek Jewelers continues."
Eddy cleared his throat. It was a jab at her tardiness and made her fight back the urge to elbow him in the ribs.
"First of all, I would like to extend condolences on behalf of the Northridge Police Department to the family and loved ones of the deceased. Know that we are doing everything in our power to find the perpetrator or perpetrators responsible. Mr. Juracek's body was recovered from the alley behind the jewelry business he owned with his father-in-law. Our medical examiner concluded the cause of death was a gunshot wound to the chest. I'm afraid I cannot disclose more than this, as the case is still under investigation."
As the room erupted in questions, she allowed herself one quick glance at Duncan before diving in. His eyes squinted in one of his slight and rare smiles. She meant it, the part about doing everything in her power. He knew that.
"Nick?" It was Captain Nolan.
She shook her head and pointed to the Rochester reporter. "Carol?"
Other hands dropped slightly. "Do you have anyone in custody?"
"I'm afraid I can't answer that question as it might hinder the progress of the investigation," she said with a flat expression, then pointed to the other side of the room. "Matt?"
"Do you have any suspects?"
She forced herself not to roll her eyes. "I can't answer that as it could impede the investigation."
It went on like this for five minutes, maybe ten. Did the killer act alone? How is the family taking the news? How the hell did they think the family was taking the news? She smiled politely until the captain moved her aside.
She knew what his words were, what they would be. They were always the same. But her sense of hearing had disappeared. Along with her others senses other than her sight. It was zoned in on the man in the back who stood between heads. Black eyes, black hair. She would know the eyes anywhere. But here? Jun Zheng. His head jerked sharply to his right before he took off running out the back. She moved her vision to see what spooked him and spotted Duncan sprinting toward the door Zheng had burst open.
Nickie lurched forward, ready to follow as a hand clamped her upper arm. She flipped her glance to find it was Eddy. "What the hell?" she hissed.
"Don't." He said it with surprising force. "You have a dozen sets of eyes on you. All who would like to make their own inferences as to what you're thinking of doing."
He was leaving a mark on her arm, but she ignored it, staring at him with vengeance.
"You'll thank me later," he said but didn't loosen his grip. "No one saw. Let Duncan handle it."
Maybe he was right. As hard as she could, she pinched his hand between the tendons of his thumb and forefinger, forcing his grip open. "Like hell."
Without giving Eddy or her captain a heads up, she took off in a full sprint down the side of the room and out the back door.
Chapter 14
Duncan bolted toward the elevator as Zheng stood calmly, grinning between the closing doors. Heat built in Duncan's skull as he reached the elevator and slammed the palm of his hand on the wall once, twice, three times. "Ah," he yelled and checked to see if it was going up or down. Down.
Blood pumping, he spun toward the stairs. The sound of fast boots pounded behind him. Nickie. He burst open the stairwell door and took the first half of the steps three at a time. Grasping the handrails, he catapulted the rest of the way, welcoming the painful shock that traveled up his legs each time he landed. He repeated the process three more times and arrived at ground-level parking. The elevator had been too fucking fast.
He shoved open the door to the concrete half of the parking garage and let it bang against the brick wall. His mind whirled with possibilities as he readied himself to spring. It was a setup; that was obvious. Did that change what needed to be done?
He stood, darting his eyes around the open area and listened. The fast click of shoes echoed on the floor above. They weren't Nickie's boots. Those should have been behind him by now. Sprinting, he took the vehicle exit ramp on foot. Images of Zheng made his legs move faster as he pumped them up the steep concrete.
He heard an engine, the spinning of tires. He listened for the sound of Nickie's boots and, as he reached second floor parking, craned his head to find her. His chest heaved as he sucked air.
He forced himself to top and close his eyes as he used the only one of his senses of use to him now. Nickie's boots. T
hey were faint, but it was her. She'd taken the second floor parking exit with Zheng. Fear gripped him as his legs started running again.
There was no car-to-body impact, only the sound of tires screeching. A black SUV rounded a corner and into his line of vision. And then he saw her. She ran between cars and heaved over concrete barriers before halting to a stop and locking her knees. She raised her Smith and Wesson and stared down the barrel.
Duncan stood his ground in the middle of the throughway, his head pounding, and stared into the black of Zheng's eyes. He saw him sneer as the vehicle picked up speed. Bam, bam, bam. Holy shit, she shot her gun. Like bouncing from a springboard, Duncan jumped as the SUV swerved, then squealed into the exit ramp. Duncan dove behind the nearest car, hitting his head on the mirror before slamming to the ground. Metal-on-metal scraped the concrete walls of the exit ramp.
"Duncan!"
Fast footsteps ran in his direction.
"Duncan, where are you? Say something."
A raspy, "Damn," was all he could get out of his throat. The ground was freezing, and his head pounded.
She appeared between cars and slid next to him on her knees. "Are you hurt?" She lifted his arms one at a time, then patted his chest and head.
Other than the large bump throbbing on the side of his face, he didn't think he had more than a few bruises. "I've been through worse."
"I guess you have."
"Nickie?"
She nodded.
"The ground is disgusting," he groaned.
Pressing her hand on his chest, she used him for purchase to rise to her feet, making him groan once more. "Did you see that? He was here. At the police station. Can you believe it?" she asked as she stood tall. "We chased him running scared, Duncan."
He could almost see the euphoria pumping through her veins.
"We took down his operation, and now he's pissed as hell." She fist-bumped the air, then held out a hand.
"No thanks." He'd like to keep his arm. "I've got it. I've also got the make and license number along with what he was wearing from head to toe. He turned north out of parking."
"And he's got three bullets in his hatch." Her brows dropped when her eyes landed on the bump at the side of his head. As she lifted her fingers to it, he jerked back.
"Don't be a baby," she said. "The bump is going out, not in. That's good. Do you feel dizzy? Tired?"
Captain Nolan came running from the second floor door, looking more like a concerned father than a boss. "Nick. What the hell? I heard shots. Eddy's holding back the press." Nolan stopped in front of them. "Duncan. I didn't know you were here."
Nickie looked to Duncan. Her face fell from the high of the chase to torn in a matter of seconds. Glancing back at her boss, she said, "Dave, it's time we talk."
* * *
Avoiding the press, they took the long way around to the captain's office. Nickie felt bad about sticking Eddy with them. Surely, he recognized who she was after. He may not know the extent of her connection to Zheng, but he'd seen the pictures of him—the one he stole from Duncan's printer, the one that stayed taped to the monitor on her office computer.
The captain unlocked his door and stepped into his office. He didn't sit and instead stood in front of his desk, leaned against it and folded his arms.
Before she sat, she glanced back and decided to walk over, close the door and shut the blinds.
When she returned, Duncan was already sitting in one of the captain's guest chairs. He draped an arm over the back of his seat, resting his hand on top of the one she would sit in. Everything was safer when he was with her.
Slowly, she sank into her seat and glanced up at Dave's waiting eyes. He was so tall, so big. Such a contrast to the worried expression on his face.
"I think I need to tell you more about my work with the FBI."
Duncan's hand rested lightly on her shoulder.
Pushing away from his desk, Dave held up his hands protectively. "I already said you don't have to tell me about that."
She knew he meant it as a show of respect.
"Dave."
She never called him by his first name anymore. 'Sir' or 'captain.' Sometimes 'boss.' All the titles he hated. It had been an inside joke between the two of them ever since Tanner went to prison and Dave took his place.
He looked to her now.
"The shots," she explained. "They were on your doorstep. You should know."
His expression was pained.
Looking away, she began. "When I was fourteen, I was abducted from my—"
"I know," he interrupted.
Without turning her head, her eyes darted back to his. "You know?"
His reddened as he nodded. "When you were transferred here, I did a background check. Who was going to be my underling? You know? There were holes, some locked juvie records. I shouldn't have. I checked. It wasn't hard to find you. Nicole Monticello. It's your birth name?"
She nodded. Chronologically, her mind started tracing back to the time she'd been Dave's aide, as his partner. Now, his detective. It started with an offer for a transfer. It had only been a few weeks since she learned it was staged. Shaking her head, she forced herself to be rational. He didn't know about that. Couldn't.
Tilting her head, she looked to Duncan. She wasn't sure why. Advice? Strength. He closed his eyes in a long blink and nodded slightly.
"My files say runaway. It started as an abduction investigation, but the careful lack of evidence regarding the crime scene turned me into a runaway. I was held captive for eighteen months in a child trafficking..." She took a deep breath, sat up and slung a boot over her knee. She'd never had to explain it like this before and wasn't about to let it break her. "A child sex trafficking group of girls. I escaped, but when my parents discovered what happened to me, they were disgusted and went back to the runaway story. They hid the files that said otherwise and sent me off to foster care. The decision was pretty much mutual between the three of us."
Dave squatted down in front of her and took both of her hands in his. Oh, boy. Awkward.
"I, uh—" She squirmed but made sure to smile at him. "—changed my name."
"The man."
The smile left her. "Yes," she said.
"He was part of this." It wasn't a question. "If I get my hands on him—"
"Get in line." Duncan may be a man of few words, but the ones he chose generally sent a chill down the spine of anyone within earshot.
Dave stood and walked around to his desk. Expressionless, he booted up his desktop as she continued.
"The FBI wants my knowledge. I've been inside, and they think I'm some sort of source. The activity with them last month. The time I took off—"
"The time you took off for the first time since you started here?" he said as his fingers plucked madly across his keyboard.
"Yes." She swallowed. "We took down an entire operation. Every girl saved. Every perp in custody. You heard about the arrest of the personal assistant to the governor?"
He looked up from the computer, his lips in the form of a small 'o.' "Thurmond Moody?"
"He was key."
Letting her foot fall to the floor, she scooted to the front of the seat. "Moody was key, but he seems to have been second in command. The gunshots in the parking garage were from my gun. I was shooting at the man, or at least the car of the man who was first in command. The man who abducted me as a child."
"I'm getting up the video surveillance now. We'll have a make and model of his car and description—"
"Dave."
He looked to her with glossy eyes. "Are you calling in the feds?" he asked. He was on overdrive. She'd seen it before.
She sat back and considered. "I don't know. This is backward for us. They call me when they need to. No." She paused, then decided. "No, Zheng came to our town. This is NPD, and it's personal." Moving her gaze to him, she felt a sudden rush of possibilities. "He's got nothing left, Captain. You know what happens when perps have nothing left."
"They make mistakes, yes, but this isn't a game, and I don't like your attitude." His glare bore into her.
"I'm okay, boss. I've got this." Although she knew she shouldn't, she moved her eyes to Duncan. Anyone else would see a flat expression of distance. She knew better. She saw a mixture of worry and pissed off.
"You don't have to do this alone," Dave said. "We're a team, remember?"
"Of course I remember. I guess I'm sort of still on a high from taking down his organization. I'm ready for him." So that no one would notice her quivering hands, she dug them in her pockets and spread a large smile across her face. "He's got nothing left," she repeated. "Payback's a bitch, ain't it?"
Chapter 15
Nickie flew so high from the gun chase that Duncan nearly had to haul her home over his shoulder. In order for her to let him drive, he had to agree to drinks at the cop bar with the other officers during the next NPD happy hour. Social interaction with people he actually had to speak with wasn't high on his list.
He'd barely had time to mix a drink at the wet bar in his bedroom before she came out of the bathroom wearing her silk white robe. It was tied loosely, her healthy cleavage speaking to him.
"Nickie," he said cautiously as she sauntered toward him.
A muscled thigh peeked from beneath the material with each step she took.
He held up his hands, palms out. "We need to talk."
Picking up his drink from the wet bar, she took a sip, licked the rim, then reached for the top button on his shirt.
He grabbed the wrist of the hand at his neck and scowled. "This is serious."
"Mmm-hmm," she patronized and took a swig before setting down the glass with her free hand, then reaching for the next button. He took hold of her hands, but she just smiled and led his arms around her back, pressing her cleavage against his chest.
No. He kept hold of her wrists and stepped away. "Zheng."
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Are you going to make us rehash that whole scene again? Now? I want you." Overtly, she let her gaze move to his pants as she raised her brows. "You want me, too."