In the Line of Duty

by Carolyn Arnold

  “Hey, I didn’t start all this.”

  “Technically, you did.”

  “No, you said I was a wise donkey. Hee-haw. Hee-haw.”

  Oh Lord. It must have been the sleep deprivation, but she found herself laughing at his impression. She cleared her throat. “Let’s be serious here for a second. We talk to Pope, find out more about Brown’s character, his nephew, and maybe then we’ll even be able to make a connection to Russell Coleman.”

  “Let’s go, boss,” he said with a smirk, before he snuck in another soft, “Hee-haw.”

  -

  Chapter 31

  MADISON PULLED THE DEPARTMENT SEDAN into Pope’s driveway. She lived in a two-story brick house in a middle-income neighborhood, and the building itself was in good condition. The front lawn needed a mowing, though.

  Terry rang the bell, and Madison waited a second before she pressed it again.

  “You’re not making things go any faster, you know,” Terry reminded her.

  She narrowed her eyes at him and pressed the bell for a third time. Then footsteps were finally padding toward the door. It opened, and the smell of garlic and frying ground beef wafted from inside the house. An early dinner in the works at four thirty in the afternoon.

  A woman in her midforties stood there with a baby on her hip. She was bouncing the kid up and down and holding a pacifier to its mouth. The baby’s cheeks were tear-streaked.

  The woman eyed them critically, her gaze going over them in a rushed fashion. “What is it?”

  Madison held up her badge, and Terry followed suit.

  “We’re detectives with the Stiles PD,” Madison began. “Are you Joy Pope?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We have some questions about your ex-husband.”

  “Oh Lord.” Pope rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth. “What has he done now?”

  “Can we come in?” Madison asked.

  Pope watched Madison a little longer before stepping back inside the house. She left the door open as an invitation for Madison and Terry to enter. Terry closed the door behind them.

  “Oh, could you just take her for a second?” Pope passed the baby off to Madison before she could refuse.

  The baby’s huge blue eyes looked up at her, and Madison didn’t like the way they made her feel. Children weren’t in her life plan. Not now. Not five years out. Not ever. She was testing her limits having a chocolate lab. What did she know about raising a child? She’d watched her sister tackle the feat seemingly effortlessly, as if she were born with the mother gene. Madison was pretty certain she wasn’t given one. But the longer this baby peered into her eyes, the more she felt her defenses melting. The baby did fit on her hip as if she were meant to be perched there. Usually there was a sense of awkwardness that came with holding a child, but something may have changed.

  That scared her more than the kid.

  “Here.” She handed the baby off to Terry.

  Pope returned a couple of minutes later. “I’m just cooking dinner and prefer that it doesn’t burn.” Pope’s eyes went from Madison to Terry, who was now holding her baby, and then settled her gaze on Madison. She smiled. “You’re not a mom, I take it.”

  “No. Would you have someplace we could sit down?”

  “Kids aren’t all that scary, you know.” Pope either didn’t pick up on Madison’s cue or didn’t care. “They’re fun actually.”

  Yes, a riot…

  They were an enormous responsibility, and the last thing she wanted was to be accountable for another human being. She had enough on her plate without adding to it. Besides, she was married to her job, and the cases could be her children. Yeah, that analogy worked, and that’s all she needed. She hated that a thought of Troy fired through her mind then, quick but nonetheless potent in its message. What was Troy’s opinion on children? They’d never discussed it, but she supposed that didn’t really matter anymore.

  Madison glanced over when she felt eyes on her, but they weren’t Terry’s. They were the baby’s. She popped the pacifier out of her mouth, and it fell to the floor. Her attention was still on Madison, and the baby smiled.

  “A place to sit?” Madison repeated her request as she bent over to pick up the pacifier. She handed it off to Pope. “Or we can talk right here.”

  Pope smiled, and Madison noted the physical similarities between mother and daughter. There was a tug on Madison’s heart, but she’d ignore it until any inclination toward motherhood dissipated. Such an unfamiliar—and unwelcome—feeling.

  Pope stuffed the pacifier into a pocket and took her baby from Terry. “Her name’s Ember, like a burning ember. I wanted to give her a powerful name. Now no matter how low or bad things may seem, there will always be a spark to get the fire started again.”

  Madison was beginning to feel as if she were being sucked into an emotional vacuum. It certainly wasn’t of her free will that she was standing here thinking about…children? Really?

  “Come this way.” Pope led them toward the kitchen. The smells in there were even more aromatic than they’d been in the foyer, and they had Madison’s stomach growling.

  Pope placed Ember in a high chair and pointed to other chairs around a table. “If you want to take a seat, I’ll be right there.” She went to the stove and turned the burner off under the meat.

  Madison sat across from Ember, thinking it best to get as far away from the baby as possible. What she hadn’t thought through was the fact that now Ember could look straight at her. And Ember wasn’t interested in the animal crackers sprinkled over the tray of her chair. She was fascinated by Madison.

  Madison glanced at Terry, and he was smiling at her. Did nothing escape her partner’s notice?

  No, Madison mouthed to him, and he laughed softly.

  Pope continued finishing up her meal, draining the pasta water and then dumping a bottle of tomato sauce into the pot, followed by the meat, garlic, and onions. She stirred it up, put the lid on the pot, and came to the table.

  “We won’t take up much of your time,” Madison began. She most certainly couldn’t afford to be here too long. That baby was starting to get to her whether she liked it or not. “We just want to know what kind of a man Phil Brown is.”

  “Huh.” Pope sat in the chair next to her daughter. “I’m not married to him anymore, if that tells you anything. It’s not that he’s a bad guy… He’s just sometimes misguided.”

  Yet her first reaction to their presence had indicated otherwise. Oh Lord. What has he done now?

  “In what way?” Terry asked.

  “He likes to see the best in people. A fault, if you ask me.”

  And here Madison thought that would have been a good trait to have…

  “If he’s in trouble, which I assume he must be, it’s got to be because of someone else.”

  “Why did you break up?” Madison asked, hoping the reason might shed some light on Brown’s character.

  Pope’s eyes went to Ember, who was still staring at Madison. “She really likes you.”

  Madison didn’t say anything. She wasn’t going to encourage Pope.

  Pope took a deep, heaving breath. “I loved him. I still do.”

  “Why the divorce and the name change, then?”

  “I didn’t do any of those things because I don’t love him. Actually, the opposite.”

  Madison leaned forward. Now she may have officially heard it all. “You divorced him because you love him?”

  “Yeah.” Pope reached for her daughter’s chubby little hand and played with her fingers. “We got married young. Too young to be getting married anyhow. We weren’t thinking about the future. We just figured we’d make life up as we went along. But when I got to the point that I really wanted children, I found out that he didn’t. And he wasn’t going to budge on it.” She paused there for a few seconds. “He can be so
stubborn.”

  It was more in the way Pope said it than in the words themselves, but there was an underlying implication that stubbornness applied to Brown in numerous ways. But Madison was going to let her continue to talk for the moment.

  “Ember’s not his, which you’ve probably figured out by this point. I left Phil and used a sperm bank. It took most of my savings, but it was worth it. Even my broken heart over Phil was worth it for her.” Pope bent over to tap a kiss on Ember’s head. “I changed my name right after the divorce because I wanted Ember to have my last name, not Phil’s. He had no claim to her at all.”

  “You said that if Phil’s in trouble, it would be because of someone else? Anyone specifically?” Madison asked. Pope’s earlier words were just sinking in now.

  “Phil’s nephew is bad news, but Phil refuses to see it.”

  “Clark Cousins?” Terry asked.

  “That’s him. God, he’s so blind when it comes to that kid. He stole a few video games—or at least he tried to. He was caught and sent to jail. Phil still protests his innocence. We never fought except for when Clark came up.”

  Madison nodded. “Why do you think he’s such bad news?”

  “If you met his friends Mike and Travis you’d understand. They aren’t exactly living on the right side of the law. And when Clark did go to jail, it wasn’t exactly his first offense. When he was a teenager, he was picked up by Walmart security for stealing. Because of his age he didn’t serve time. He did have to pay a fine, though. He was banned from Walmart for some time, too. I don’t remember how long.”

  “Why was Phil so defensive of Clark?” Terry asked, leaving out that they had, in fact, met Mike and Travis.

  “He said that his nephew was just like him and that he would never steal. ‘He’s a good kid,’ he’d say.” Pope scoffed. “Yeah, all good kids go to jail.”

  “Is he still close with his nephew?”

  “I imagine so, but I haven’t exactly spoken with Phil in a while. A couple of years actually, so I can’t say for sure.”

  “Have you ever heard of the Devil’s Rebels?” Madison asked.

  Pope’s face paled, and she nodded. “I wish I could say no.”

  “What do you know about them?”

  “I just heard of them. I remember them coming up regarding Clark. Why?”

  Madison took out a photo of Russell Coleman and handed it to Pope. “Do you know this man?”

  Pope glanced at the picture and shook her head. “He’s involved with these Devil’s Rebels?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Madison responded.

  Terry leaned on the table. “What about the name Russell Coleman? Does that sound familiar?”

  “I do remember Phil mentioning a Russ. Do you think that’s the guy?” Pope pointed to the photo.

  Madison’s heart was thumping hard. “What did Phil say about him?”

  “He said that Clark was innocent, but that one of his friends was trouble. That friend being Russ. Phil figured it was Russ who was actually the thief.”

  Madison rose from the table, as did Terry. She handed Pope a business card. “If you think of anything else we might want to know, call me.”

  “I don’t even know what exactly this is about.”

  “And it’s probably better that you don’t. Thank you for your time, and I’m sorry we interrupted your dinner.”

  Ember cooed in the high chair and banged one of her arms against the tray.

  I’ve gotta get out of here.

  -

  Chapter 32

  CLARK COUSINS’S CONNECTION TO RUSSELL COLEMAN was enough to start the arrest warrant for him. Officers were dispatched to watch over the Chestnut residence and verify he was there. Madison insisted that she and Terry be the ones to bring Cousins in, too, but in the meantime, they would be apprehending Phil Brown.

  Madison and Terry were positioned outside Phil Brown’s residence armed with an arrest warrant for him and a search warrant for his property. Combining Brown’s close relationship with his nephew, Cousins’s supposed affiliation with the Devil’s Rebels, and Brown’s ownership of a Glock 17 and a black BMW 3 series sedan had provided enough provocation to act. While Brown fit the physicality of the driver, as did Coleman, this was a discrepancy cast aside in light of those other factors. The fact that Pope had mentioned Brown didn’t like Coleman was also discarded, because his opinion of the guy could have changed.

  Plainclothes officers had posed as utility providers and already confirmed Brown was home.

  Brown’s house was in a new neighborhood with cookie-cutter houses whose garages were their dominant features. There was no BMW in the drive, but it could be in said garage.

  Police had cordoned off the block surrounding Brown’s house, and Troy’s team was there to ensure that things stayed under control. There were still several hours before the raid on the Hellions’ hideout, but with Brown being a suspect in Barry’s shooting, no one at the Stiles PD was taking any chances.

  Three members of SWAT—including Troy and Nick—were in front of the door. Madison and Terry stood well behind them, prepared to present the warrants. She was aware of her Kevlar vest and the few pounds it added to her frame as she walked to the door. Adrenaline pumped through her system. She was aware the vest was for protection, but it could fail her. A head shot, the random positioning of a bullet like in Barry’s case.

  Troy knocked, and a few seconds later, a frightened-looking Phil Brown answered the door.

  Madison analyzed what she could see of Brown past the SWAT team. Nothing about his physical appearance was really noteworthy except for his height and slender frame. His eyes were a flat brown but wide and panicked, and his lips were small in proportion to the rest of his face.

  “Put your hands in the air,” Troy demanded.

  Nick moved in and patted him down. “He’s clear.”

  The third SWAT guy—who Madison could never remember the name of—walked past them. The situation was seemingly under complete control.

  Nick handed Brown off to Terry, and he and Troy headed toward the SWAT vehicle. Madison’s gaze met Troy’s, and he nodded at her, a slight curve to his mouth. That was the closest thing to a smile she was going to get from him.

  Terry pulled Brown’s arms behind his back and cuffed him. “You’re under arrest for your involvement with shooting a police officer.”

  “Whoa! I never killed anyone!”

  Madison got in Brown’s face then, her nose mere inches from his. She just wanted to look into his eyes, but he wasn’t revealing anything. He did, however, smell like cigarettes. The manager of the Bean Counter’s testimony came to mind. Kayla had said the driver had been smoking the entire time.

  Two patrol officers came up the walkway to take Brown to the station.

  She turned to Brown, who was still standing there flanked by two officers, each holding him by an arm. “Where will we find your Glock?”

  Brown’s eyes moved from her to Terry and back. “In its gun box.”

  “And where is that?” Madison asked.

  “In my nightstand.”

  “Is it locked?” She was ready to scream.

  Brown looked away.

  Madison took that as a no. Did Brown not realize he was in trouble for a lot more than not locking up his gun?

  “Do you have ammunition?” Terry asked.

  Brown nodded, pale-faced. “Bullets are in my bedroom closet on the shelf.”

  Madison looked past Brown to where the SWAT vehicle was leaving the premises.

  Madison entered the house and scanned the main level as she headed for the garage access off the kitchen. Terry was right behind her. She opened the door, and her eyes fell on the empty bay.

  “Son of a bitch.” She stormed back to Brown, who was still being held at the front door. “Where’s
your BMW?”

  “I sold it.” It was spoken with no emotion and deadpan body language.

  “You sold it?” she asked incredulously. This guy must have thought they were idiots. The stupidity of criminals never ceased to amaze her. At least he didn’t claim it was stolen and not reported yet. “When?”

  “Uh, four days ago.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “There’s no record of its sale.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’ve got my plates. They’re in the basement.”

  Upon transferring ownership of the vehicle, Brown would be responsible for his plates, but she didn’t think Brown was telling the truth. There was no sale. Not only was there no record of a title transfer but his body language was closed when he said he had sold it.

  “We’re going to get your Glock and bullets now. Are we going to find them, or did you sell them, too?” Madison raised her brows.

  “Last I knew they were where I told you.”

  Madison glanced at Terry and nodded. He went into the house while Madison kept an eye on Brown. Liars were usually motivated by self-preservation. Brown was involved with Barry’s shooting, she had no doubt. She still wondered why, though, and if it had something to do with his love for his nephew. And did Brown really hate Coleman as much as Pope made it sound? How was Brown directly connected to Coleman, and why did both men fit the physicality of the driver?

  Terry returned with a gun case, a box of bullets, and the license plates.

  “See, I told you.” Brown was getting excited and nudged his head toward the plates. “I sold the car.”

  “They don’t prove anything.” Madison regarded Brown with irritation.

  Terry spoke to her as if Brown weren’t there. “The bullets are the same caliber as those used in the shooting.” Terry opened the ammunition box. “And seventeen rounds are missing.”

  That was enough to fill the magazine. Madison glanced at Brown, who was now looking peaked.

  Terry passed the ammo box to her and opened the gun case. She leaned over to look inside and felt her skin heat as she fired a glare at Brown. “And you said your gun was where?”