Expired Refuge

by Lisa Phillips

  The chief’s death had stalled out his day. And with everything else that had happened—including getting shot and knocked unconscious again—he needed twenty-four hours of sleep, a pot of coffee, and three weeks to work through this case.

  Finally Meena said, “Ed has a set of books. Transaction records between him and the group that supplies the guy he buys from.”

  “Drugs?” Conroy would probably have to call the DEA.

  She actually rolled her eyes. “Among other things. There’s a safe in his uncle’s office, but the set of books in there is fake. Under the rug that the desk sits on, there’s a loose floorboard. That’s where the real books are.”

  “You’re giving us Ed?” Wilcox shifted closer to the two of them. “By handing us his uncle?”

  “No love lost between them,” Meena said. “He didn’t like the old man having that much power over him, keeping track of his accounts. So he sent me.” The look she gave him indicated what that had involved.

  Wilcox said, “So you entrap him. Ed uses that to blackmail his uncle. Leverage.”

  Meena smiled, sickly sweet and directed at Wilcox. “We all have our skills, sweet cheeks.”

  “Gross.” Wilcox walked past Meena, toward where Mia stood with Tate. Conroy saw them start talking.

  What about? He wanted to go over there, but the job came first. The chance to put Ed behind bars.

  “Get the books.” Meena had a knowing look on her face. “And I’ll come back if you need me to testify or whatever. Otherwise, I’m gone. You’ll never see me again.”

  Wilcox said, “Will wonders never cease? I was having a bad day up until now, and you go and cheer me up.”

  Conroy shot her a look, then pulled a business card out. He handed it to Meena. “Keep in touch. I’ll let you know.”

  “Fine by me.” She pocketed his card.

  Conroy wasn’t going to delude himself that she was doing this out of the goodness of her heart. She probably figured she’d handed him enough he could arrest Ed, and the source of her problems would go to jail. Meena wouldn’t have to come back. She wouldn’t have to testify. She probably figured this was the clean break she’d been looking for.

  Not that her sister had convinced her to act honorably. This was just in her best interest. Light a match and walk away. She didn’t plan to stick around long enough to see everything burn.

  “Don’t drop off the map.”

  He didn’t need her getting deeper into the things that had a hold over her life. She was the kind of woman who went all in, against advice. Usually the thing she went all-in on wasn’t good for her. Or anyone.

  “Maybe find a rehab center. Get in a program.”

  Mia’s sister moved closer to him, lifted a hand and touched his cheek. “So sweet.” She patted his cheekbone. “Make her happy.”

  Before he could respond, she breezed past him. Stepped into the elevator before the doors could close.

  Conroy took longer than he wanted to rally. Meena didn’t mean much to him, personally at least. Not aside from the standard care he had for anyone who lived in his jurisdiction. She was Mara’s kid sister, too young he hadn’t hung with her at all back then. Mia had been part of his life, though. At least on the periphery as she trailed after her sister.

  He cared about her, though. Didn’t like seeing her caught up in the junk Ed was doing. Even if it had been of her own volition. Conroy didn’t think Meena walked into anything without her eyes wide open, even if it did often lead to her being in over her head.

  It was the connection.

  Mia—and her sister—had been part of his life for years. Despite the fact he hadn’t hung out with either one. For different reasons. The two of them were an integral part of who he was. The man he had become. They had a connection, something he’d been waiting to feel for years, and he got it now? From Meena?

  Beyond her, Tate stood down the hall with a disapproving look on his face.

  Conroy didn’t need that.

  Wilcox shoved at the private investigator. Irritated, for whatever reason. The two of them wandered off in the opposite direction, leaving Mia standing at the door to her room. Black skinny pants under her hospital gown.

  He didn’t want her left alone, just in case she needed help.

  Okay, so that wasn’t the only reason he went over there. “Hey.”

  Her eyes smiled. “Tate brought me my badge and my gun.”

  “That’s good.”

  Mia nodded. “I was feeling a little…naked without it.” Her eyes flashed. “Uh.”

  Conroy said, “He got you out of bed?”

  “I was going to see my father.”

  “I’ll walk you.”

  “Thanks.” She tried to set off, but with all the stuff she was carrying, it was difficult. She pulled her gun from the bag, still in its holster. “Look after this?”

  He nodded and slid it on the back of his belt. Her badge she tucked in the front pocket of her pants.

  “That’s a good look with bare feet.”

  Mia chuckled, then sobered. “Is everything okay?”

  “The chief…” He couldn’t force the rest of the words out.

  “Oh, no.” Her voice was quiet.

  He was about to brush off her concern, as though it wasn’t a big deal. That was a lie, and she knew it. Mia moved closer and touched his cheek. Same as her sister had done. He wrapped one arm around her, the way Tate had done to her.

  “Thanks.”

  He frowned. They had more between them than this.

  Then she pressed her lips to his before she pulled back, so they were still close. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Conroy leaned in and rested his cheek against hers. “Thank you.”

  When the moment had passed, he walked her by the nurse’s desk. The nurse shot them a disapproving look but didn’t argue when he told her where they were headed. He went with Mia all the way to intensive care where she had to check in as a visitor.

  Conroy wasn’t allowed in. “I should get back to the office. Don’t walk back to your room without help, okay?”

  “I won’t.”

  “I’m glad you’re all right, and I’ll be praying for your father.”

  “Thanks.”

  He didn’t know what else to say. Conroy had to go. There was so much to do, but he wanted to stay there. Sit with her. Hug her. Wait for news about her dad. Make sure she got something good to eat and more medicine when her shoulder started to hurt.

  Mia’s expression softened. “Go.”

  He looked down for a second. “I’ll be back.”

  “You’d better be.”

  Conroy walked away smiling. Until he pulled out his phone. Kaylee picked up right before he got into the elevator.

  “Boss?”

  “Get me a meeting with the judge. I need a warrant for Kenny Aggerton’s office.”

  “The uncle?”

  “I got a lead on a set of books. Ed’s financial records.” Conroy’s grief lifted for a second. Long enough to say, “We have a shot at getting him.”

  Thirty-six

  One week later

  Mia climbed out of the car, passenger side. Wilcox got out on the driver’s side. She’d been keeping Mia up to date on the case since the last time she’d seen Conroy. He’d been busy all week. She’d been released after a couple of days and had gone home to shower. Then she’d come right back during visiting hours every day to sit with her dad.

  Her hearing was much better—almost perfect. Sometimes her ears got overwhelmed, and she had to wait out the ringing. She was supposed to stay away from earbuds, or headphones in general, as well as loud situations like rock concerts. She was careful to wear ear protection when firing her weapon at the range.

  If she got in a prolonged gunfight at some point in the future, she would likely wind up with permanent hearing loss. Scar tissue would build up on her eardrum, and there was no way back from that.

  Over the past few days she’d been passing informa
tion on her father’s prognosis back through Wilcox to Conroy. At least, she assumed the information got back to Conroy. He was busy. Too busy to call, or even text, apparently. The latest information he didn’t even know—that her father was awake finally.

  All she knew about what Conroy had been working all morning was that he was unavailable. When Savannah explained why, Mia knew she wanted in on the operation.

  “No.” He strode over to them, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

  Behind him was a crowd of officers all dolled up in their SWAT gear. Vests. Helmets. Conroy had cargo pants on, a polo shirt under his vest. One of the few times she’d seen him in anything other than a suit.

  “All hands on deck,” Wilcox announced. “Right?” She strode past them, a knowing smile on her face that Conroy didn’t see. Headed for the trunk.

  Super loudly, Mia said, “What?” and glanced between them.

  “You can’t even…” He turned to Wilcox. “She can’t hear?”

  “Actually, that was a joke.” Mia spoke normally this time. “I’m fine.”

  He didn’t look amused. “Yeah. No.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means go home, Mia.”

  “You’re arresting Ed Summers and all his people. You think I’m going to miss that?”

  “You are not here,” he said. “You have no badge, and no authority to be here.”

  He knew. “Yes, technically I resigned from the ATF and quit three days ago. I’m no longer a fed. I’m also not a licensed PI even though I asked Tate about that. Apparently you have to have someone sign off on your hours. And it’s a lot of hours.”

  That was when she’d made her final decision.

  She’d talked to her boss, and he’d sent a local agent to pick up her badge and gun. She’d surrendered both. There had been a lot of paperwork, but she’d fulfilled her obligation to the ATF. It hadn’t been nearly as hard to sever those ties as she’d thought it would be.

  His expression darkened in a way that indicated she probably didn’t need to have brought Tate into it. “So it’s like that?”

  “That I have a friend in this town? Because total right now, I have three. Besides you and Wilcox, Tate is one of them.”

  “You’re trying to distract me.”

  She took the protective vest Wilcox handed her and lifted it over her head. Ouch. She took advantage that he couldn’t see her face as she lowered it over her shoulders to wince.

  “You’re not fooling anyone.”

  “I’m going in with you.” Before he could argue, she said, “I’ll hang back. Out of the way. It’s not like I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve kicked in hundreds of doors to serve warrants.”

  “You’re not a cop right now.”

  Interesting choice of words. Not a cop right now. He could have said she wasn’t a cop “anymore.” But he hadn’t.

  “How’s Jess?” She figured asking about the chief’s granddaughter might distract him.

  He didn’t bite.

  “I’ll stay out of trouble.”

  He shot Wilcox a pointed look. “I blame you.”

  “Fire me later, Chief.” She wandered off to join the other cops.

  He called after her, “I’m not the chief yet.”

  Mia pulled the filled-out application from the back pocket of her pants. It was tri-folded and crumpled. If she was a boss and someone handed her this, she’d throw it away. But he had spots to fill, and if he took a chance on her then she would make sure he didn’t regret it for even one second.

  Conroy frowned.

  “Wilcox printed me off an application.” She rolled it up and slid it right underneath his vest, right at his shoulder blade.

  His lips twitched, along with a muscle in his jaw. “I’m not allowed to read it?”

  “There’s no time. We’ve got an arrest warrant to serve.”

  “Do you even have a gun on you?”

  “I could borrow one, right?”

  “You’d really take a job here? You live in Seattle.” Conroy said it cautiously, like he didn’t want to get his hopes up that she would actually move back to Last Chance County for good.

  Mia said, “Maybe you could go back with me, help me move.” She shifted her shoulder. “I can’t lift heavy things right now.”

  Basuto jogged over. “Chief, we’re all set and ready to go.”

  He ignored her grin. “Thank you, Sergeant.”

  They considered him the chief, even if he hadn’t technically been sworn in by the mayor yet. That would happen in a week or two, apparently. But until then, she figured he would be hard at work doing the job, the same way he’d been doing the job during the chief’s sickness. Just not taking over the old man’s now empty office. Not yet anyway.

  “When’s the funeral?”

  He almost looked relieved she didn’t razz him about the “chief” thing. “Tuesday.”

  No, she wasn’t going to point out that his recent promotion was due to his boss’s death. The mayor had signed off—Conroy Barnes would be the police chief soon enough. After the official ceremony, of course.

  He yelled, “Sergeant!”

  She started. He twisted around to where Basuto turned back. “Chief?”

  Conroy said, “Lieutenant Tathers needs a weapon.”

  Took him a second, but Basuto figured it out. Mia said, “We might need to give everyone else a little longer than that to get used to it.”

  Conroy chuckled. “Time to go.”

  “Maybe I should be a detective, and Wilcox should be the lieutenant?” She didn’t want resentment in the department.

  “No!” Wilcox shook her head, vehemently. “Don’t do that to me, Chief.”

  “Relax.” He held up a hand to her.

  Mia said, “Are you sure?”

  “I like my job as is. Do not mess with me.” Wilcox strode off. Again.

  Mia frowned. Conroy tugged her onward. They set off but didn’t get far before he said, “Be. Careful.”

  She nodded. “I’ll be as careful with myself as I’d expect you to be.”

  She saw a flash of his teeth in the dark as he grinned.

  Basuto said, “Ready for you.”

  “Fifteen seconds to ‘go’.”

  “Copy that.” Basuto turned and keyed his radio. “All positions, fifteen seconds. Mark.”

  Someone handed Mia a pistol, which she readied in time for the signal.

  “Go! Go! Go!”

  Basuto led the way. Conroy was to his right, angling out to swing around the flank. They ran flat out over the ridge to sweep down. She jogged, hanging back. As much as she wanted to be part of this, physically she was more of a liability.

  Ed Summers and his guys seemed to be tailgating in their own backyard. Truck beds, folding tables. A bonfire in the center, flames licking high into the air.

  Someone yelled.

  People scattered. Men and women scurried. Cops descended, throwing down. Just as she was wondering if they would be able to pull this off without gunfire, the first shot rang out.

  Then the answering shot.

  It was far enough away it didn’t hurt her ears and wouldn’t compound the damage previously done. If she was to be a cop, then she’d have to be very careful with close-quarters gunfire.

  Mia hung back to get the big picture, praying for the safety of every person here. Praying this didn’t erupt into a bloodbath. Along with a couple of other officers, she watched for the rogue who would make a run for it. Slip through the cracks and try to get away.

  There.

  She raced to the east, across from what amounted to Ed Summers’s front lawn. “Police! Stop!”

  It was Summers.

  She realized that as she ran after him, closing the gap as she’d done in many high school cross country races. He wasn’t going to get away with this. The same way he hadn’t gotten away with killing her sister.

  Summers turned and fired at her.

  He missed but she fell t
o one knee, got up, and kept going. Faster. Before he could fire again, Mia jumped and tackled him to the ground, pain reverberated through her shoulder. She pinned him down with a knee to his back.

  “Drop the gun.”

  He didn’t want to, but he let go of it.

  The similarity between this and the day she’d killed Thompson Stiles couldn’t be denied. It rolled through her like a flash of cold.

  He twisted. Launching up, he flipped her onto her back.

  Mia gasped, her ears ringing now.

  Ed reached for her throat.

  Then he was gone. His weight lifted off her and she saw Conroy, his face twisted with anger. He shoved Ed onto his front and cuffed the guy before she could even speak.

  “Edward Summers, it’s my great pleasure to tell you that you’re under arrest for drug and weapons trafficking. Among several other things, including accessory to murder.” Conroy continued, explaining his rights in a way they couldn’t be argued. There would be no mistakes on this.

  Mia laid there, trying to remember how to breathe—how to move—when she still had abject fear rolling through her, along with a mega dose of adrenaline. Bonus, her shoulder didn’t hurt too bad right now.

  “You okay?”

  It took her a second to realize he was talking to her, given how her ears were ringing. Mia managed to choke out the word. “Yep.”

  Great. He was never going to hire her for real now. She’d just been bested by a suspect he’d been trying to bring down since forever. He’d had to come to her rescue. Ed could have gotten away because of it, and it would have been all her fault.

  Conroy backed up past her, holding his gun aimed at Ed Summers. “I’d be more assured if you didn’t look like you were about to pass out.”

  She climbed to her feet.

  Conroy stood behind her, arm out with his gun pointed at Ed. His free arm slid around her, supporting her injured arm and taking the weight off her shoulder. She nearly groaned in relief. Her legs would have given out had he not been holding her up.

  He tugged her back until she was against his chest. A hug. “Basuto!”

  She jumped.

  “Sorry.” His voice was breathy against her ear.

  The sergeant raced over, hauled Ed to his feet, and walked him off.