“No, it’s my fault,” she moaned, over and over. Rick wondered if somehow she was relating all of this to her brother’s death, or Tim’s death four years before—those were the words she had uttered. She’d blamed herself for both.
“What’s your fault, Night?” he asked gently.
Midnight looked up at him sharply. “It’s my fault if Joe’s dead,” she said, her voice clear in the silent room.
“How?” Rick said, just as sharply.
Midnight took a deep breath, looking away from him then. “You wanted to know what happened the day I lost the baby?”
“Yeah…”
“It was Dickerson,” Midnight said tonelessly.
Rick felt the blood leave his face. He reached out and turned her back to face him. “He’s the one that—”
“Killed our baby. And I let the sonofabitch walk.” Midnight shook her head, as if she didn’t believe her own words.
“Why?” Rick asked, horrified.
Midnight looked him straight in the eye. “Because Randy was with him when he did it.” The words dropped in the room, and Rick had to let them sink in before real understanding dawned.
“Randy?” he said, pure anger flooding his veins.
“Wait, Rick,” Midnight said as he started to stand. “I don’t think she planned on Dickerson ending up tangling with me. She was pissed because I had denied her application for a ride-along. Now that I think about it, I’ll just bet Dickerson pumped her up to come and confront me.”
Rick looked at her doubtfully.
“Let’s find out.” Midnight reached up to wipe her face with her hands. She closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure. Then she looked up at Rick. “Okay, go get her for me, will ya?”
Rick nodded and left.
He came back a few minutes later with Randy trailing him. Midnight was sitting behind her desk.
“Randy, come in. Have a seat.” She motioned for Rick to close the door. “Look,” she said, as evenly as possible. “I told Rick about you and Dickerson, but he doesn’t believe me.”
Randy looked from Midnight to Rick and then back at Midnight, obviously trying to figure out what Midnight had said. Her eyes showed her worry, and Midnight nodded. When Randy glanced at Rick again, she could see hatred in his eyes. “Oh, God,” she said, closing her eyes and beginning to shake. She looked at Midnight, beseeching the other woman to understand. “I swear, I never meant any of it to happen. When I got the call that you’d denied my application I was mad, but Dick told me I should go and talk to you about it. He said that you were a bitch and you were trying to ruin my career. I decided to go and talk to you, but when we got there, I thought Dick would wait outside—it was my problem, after all. But he insisted he’d come in, and he swore he’d stand there quietly.” She laughed ruefully. “If I had known what would end up happening, I never would have gone there. Sure, I was mad, and you know I was even stupid enough to take a swing at you, but I had no idea that he’d jump in…” There were tears in her eyes by the time she finished. She looked over at Rick, almost afraid of him now.
Midnight looked at Rick too, and he nodded to her. He believed Randy; she wasn’t the kind of person who could act that well. She’d always been too genuine.
“We believe you, Randy,” Midnight said calmly. “The reason we had to find out was that we think Dickerson has Joe.”
“What!” Randy said, her face reflecting shock and horror. She started to shake her head, not wanting it to be true.
“Randy, it was Dickerson’s partial print on the keypad at the house,” Midnight said.
Randy became still as things started to fall into place. She remembered the day she and Dickerson had gone to Joe’s house to pick up the rest of her things. Dick had been adamant about doing it that morning, even before the academy started at 8:00 a.m. She had punched in the security code without even thinking, and had actually stepped back on his feet when she moved to open the door. She had been surprised that he was that close, but she hadn’t realized he’d been looking over her shoulder. She remembered the night he’d shown up when Joe wasn’t home; she’d heard noises on the deck and by the front door, and Dickerson had shown up right after.
“Oh, God,” she said, closing her eyes. “I told him so much about Joe.” She shook her head, as if trying to clear it. “I don’t even remember everything I told him. He was another cop—I never even imagined…” She trailed off as she realized that she may have gotten Joe killed.
“We know Dickerson’s involved, Randy, but we don’t know with whom, who’s behind it,” Midnight said.
“Yes, we do,” Rick said.
Midnight looked at him as if he’d just lost it. She started to shake her head.
“It’s the Riveras,” Rick said.
Midnight stared at him for a long moment, as the memories of what the drug family had done years before came flooding back. “No,” she said, wanting to be right this time. “We haven’t gotten any threats, demands, or anything.”
“So they’re bein’ real quiet about it this time,” Rick said.
“How?” Midnight said, and Rick knew she wanted to know how he came by the information.
He shrugged. “A friend of Teddy’s went out with Carlos Rivera. We were in a club and she was drillin’ me on what I did for a living. We hit on FORS, and she told me that Carlos Rivera was planning a hit on a certain member of the unit. I just assumed it was Joe, because she said it was a he.”
Midnight was nodding, purposely stepping past the fact that Rick had been out with Teddy only hours before.
“Where’s Mikeyla?” She was suddenly terrified that he’d brought their daughter back with him.
“She’s still in England. I figured she’d be safest there.”
Midnight sighed with relief, nodding. “Good.” Then she looked at Rick seriously. “They have our address.”
“They what?” Rick replied sharply, wondering when the surprises for the morning would end.
“Have our address. Griff’s group hit a house and found it with the Perros Locos, and I’ll just bet that our boys have a pretty strong connection with the Riveras.”
“Jesus,” Rick said, moving to sit on the credenza behind Midnight’s desk. “This is too fucking much for one morning.”
Midnight called a meeting to tell everybody what they now knew. Randy was pointedly absent; she’d gone off to recover from what she’d done. The last place she wanted to be was in the room when Midnight told everyone that the guy she had cheated on Joe with was the one behind his disappearance.
“Okay,” Midnight said. “We have some more information thanks to the help of some very able-bodied police officers.” She glanced at Tiny and Jessica first, then looked over at Rick, who was leaning indolently against the window in the conference room with his arms crossed in front of his chest, pointedly distancing himself from the rest of FORS. He knew how they all felt about him, but he didn’t care.
“We know that a cop is working with the bad guys on this one,” Midnight said, and an outraged murmur started in the crowd. “Okay, people.” Midnight raised her hand for silence. “The thing is, this cop has taken advantage of an awkward situation when all of our guards were down. The cop is Dick Dickerson, and”—she raised her voice—“before you all get your hackles up, let me tell you a little tidbit of information.” She saw Rick look up at her sharply, but she shook her head, telling him she had to explain.
“I had the best reason of all to know that Dickerson was dirty. You see, my ‘accident’ wasn’t an accident at all. Dickerson’s the one that introduced my head to my entryway wall.”
There was total silence in the room as everyone realized the implications of what she was saying. She could also see that they wanted to know why she hadn’t done anything about it. “The reason the sonofabitch isn’t in jail right now is because of my weakness for Joe. You see, Randy was with Dickerson at the time. But before you all start in on her, you need to know that Randy had nothing to do with
it, and if I didn’t honestly believe that, she’d be in jail right now.” The severity in her voice served to convince the unit. They knew that Midnight’s instincts were just about always right, so they believed her. “Now look. Randy’s as rattled about this as the rest of us, so let’s try to give her the benefit of the doubt. She wants Joe back just as badly, if not more so than the rest of us.”
The members of FORS started to nod and talk among themselves. The gist of what they were saying was Dickerson and what they’d do to the guy when they got to him.
“The other bit of information we have,” Midnight continued a few minutes later, “is that our old friends the Riveras are behind this little shindig too.” There was shocked silence in the room. Nobody could even fathom the nerve it took to try and hit a police unit not once or even twice, but now a third time. The possibilities were devastating. It also made them aware that any of them could be targets, but for the most part they were concerned about their leader.
“Could Dickerson’s attack on you have been planned?” someone asked.
Midnight considered the thought, and after a moment began to nod. “It’s possible. It may have been a quick attempt to get me out of the way.” She looked over at Rick and saw a stricken expression on his face. If he hadn’t been screwing around with Sheila, he would have been there to protect her. He’d known that, but the thought that it could have been an actual planned attempt to kill Midnight, with the secure knowledge that Rick was staying somewhere else with his girlfriend, made the impact of Rick’s infidelity more significant.
“So Dickerson could have had his sights on Randy from way back,” someone else said.
“Isn’t Dickerson’s sister the chick Randy was staying with?” Spider put in.
Midnight nodded, seeing the pieces fall together.
“Think his sister’s part of it too?” Kana asked, looking at Midnight.
“Let’s pick her up and find out.”
Midnight lay on the couch in her office twenty minutes later, trying to get rid of her pounding headache, covering her eyes with her arm. She heard the door open but didn’t want to use up the energy to open her eyes and see who’d come in. It was six o’clock in the morning, and she’d been awake for twenty-six hours. Her energy levels were dropping dangerously low. She sensed someone sitting next to her, and his scent came to her a moment later. She opened one eye. Rick was sitting on the floor right next to her. She closed her eye again, shaking her head. “I don’t have the energy for a confrontation with you right now.” Her voice was very weak, as if backing up her statement.
“Good,” Rick said, very close to her ear. She could sense his face near hers. “Because I don’t want to have a confrontation with you.” His voice was very soft and sincere. His lips brushed her ear, and she shivered in response. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“Which time?”
“Every time,” Rick said, refusing to rise to the bait. She felt him touch her hand, which was lying on her stomach. She tensed. She wasn’t even close to being ready to deal with him yet; she was still reeling from the morning’s revelations.
“Rick, don’t,” she said, softly but firmly. “Not here, not now.”
When he didn’t speak, she glanced over at him. He nodded, his face showing the pain of her rejection. She didn’t have the energy to deal with that now either. She closed her eyes again, and must have dozed off, because she woke a little while later. Rick was still sitting on the floor next to her, his knees up to his chest, his ankles crossed, and his head down on his crossed arms resting on his knees.
The door opened, and Sarah Dickerson walked in, escorted by Tiny and Jessica. She looked afraid as Midnight and then Rick looked up at her with narrowed eyes. The two officers who had come pounding on her door at 5:20 in the morning had told her she was under suspicion of conspiracy to murder a police officer. Now, as she looked at Midnight, she was worried. Rick stood up and extended his hand to Midnight. She took it and moved to stand. Rick noticed her wincing and made a note to watch her the entire time they talked to Sarah.
They found out that other than disliking Joe and goading Randy into leaving him, Sarah had had no other involvement. They told her they had rock-solid proof that her brother was involved, and asked her about his associates. Sarah was able to tell them that he visited friends in Mexico a lot.
“Do you know where?” Rick said, his eyes shining intensely.
“Yeah. Well, sort of—it’s down by Ensenada.” Sarah shrugged helplessly. “They don’t exactly mark the streets down there, but I’d know it if I saw it.”
“What about a picture?” Midnight asked. Sarah nodded, and Midnight turned to Rick. “I’ll bet that Griff can get the National Guard or even his own people to fly over a certain area and take pictures of the houses there.”
Rick nodded. “Do it.”
Midnight picked up the phone and dialed Griff’s cell.
He answered almost immediately. Midnight explained what was happening, and Griff agreed to get ahold of the Guard. He explained that at this time of the morning, they were likely to have a faster response, since BNE’s airplanes for southern California were stationed in Long Beach.
He called back twenty minutes later. “I can get you a C-26 out of North Island in twenty minutes. You did say these guys are drug dealers, right?” He sounded a little hesitant.
“Yeah, Griff. Coke, I think. Why?”
“I just didn’t want to have to lie to the Guard and tell them it was a drug case, but I would have if necessary.”
“Thanks, Griff. I owe ya.”
They hung up, and Midnight got a call from the National Guard a few minutes later. She explained the situation and put Sarah on the phone. She told the guardsman what area the house was located in and then disconnected. She looked up at Midnight. “Lieutenant?” she said hesitantly.
Midnight looked at the younger girl, her mind already working through her plans for the next steps. “Yes?”
“I’m really sorry, ma’am. For everything.” Sarah looked sincere, and Midnight couldn’t help but smile. The kid looked absolutely terrified too.
“You’ll make it up to me by finding the house they’re holding my sergeant in.”
Sarah nodded emphatically.
Chapter 5
Joe regained consciousness slowly. His head ached. Reaching up, he felt dry blood matting his hair. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he realized he was sitting on the floor. He tried to stand and was rewarded with excruciating pain in his side. Looking down, he saw that blood was still seeping from the gunshot wound in his side. He glanced around and knew he was not at home. “Shit,” he muttered, resting his head against the wall again.
After a while he felt less groggy, so he once again attempted to stand. Eventually he made it to his feet. He looked around. There was one window and a door. The only furniture in the room was a chair. Joe tried the window but found that although it wasn’t barred, it was nailed shut. He rapped on the glass and decided it was double-paned—no real hope of breaking it. He checked the chair and found that it was nailed to the floor. Moving back to the window, he looked out. The house he was in was on a beach, but he wasn’t sure which one. He could also see men walking around outside, and he could tell they were guarding the house, even though they were trying to look casual about it.
He heard the door behind him open and turned around slowly, his side burning all the while. He was stunned to see Dick Dickerson. After a long moment, Joe started to shake his head, the look on his face one of disappointment.
“Bad cop?” he said derisively. “Isn’t that just a bit too cliché?”
“Fuck you, Sinclair.”
Joe just looked back at him, his eyes still reflecting disapproval.
“You think you’re so ethical?” Dickerson said with a sneer.
“I know I wouldn’t try to kill another cop,” Joe said. A momentary look of surprise crossed Dickerson’s face.
“It’s too bad I d
idn’t succeed,” he mused.
Joe realized the man wasn’t talking about him. “Yeah, well I guess you fucked up, didn’t you?” he said, trying to draw him out.
“Next time,” Dickerson said, his voice turning almost evil. “I know someone that wants to fuck her first.”
“Yeah?” Joe narrowed his eyes. “Who?”
Dickerson looked at him sharply, suddenly realizing he was being played. “Don’t try to play games with me, Sinclair,” he said, gritting his teeth. “My associates may not want you dead just yet, but if you piss me off, I might just kill you accidentally.”
Joe shrugged. “Probably shoot your own foot off in the process.”
Dickerson produced a pistol and pointed it at Joe. “You wanna do some target shooting, Sinclair? ’Cause I could use some. Been a while since I’ve been to the range.” The look on his face changed, becoming knowing. “’Bout three weeks, I’d say.”
Joe did a quick calculation. That was when Randy had been there with the academy class. He looked back at Dickerson, his eyes narrowing once again.
“Guess you hadn’t figured that one out yet, huh?” Dickerson clicked his tongue. “And I thought you were this great cop?”
“You put that heavy load in Randy’s clip,” Joe said, pulling a mocking expression. “Couldn’t even do that right, could you?”
“I wanted it to be a hot load,” Dickerson snapped. “I was hoping it’d blow up in her face.” He sneered at the last, hoping to draw Joe out.
To his utter shock, Joe started to chuckle. “Like I said, you couldn’t even do that right.”
“You sonofabitch!” Dickerson took a step forward and raised the gun.
Joe tilted his head to the side. “You’d better get a little closer. I’ve seen your range scores.”
Dickerson fired, but Joe had anticipated it and jumped out of the way before the shot went off. As he had predicted, it went wide. Dickerson didn’t shoot well when he was pissed off. Joe made a mental note of that. He glanced up from where he lay on the floor; he’d landed on his sore side, and he was hoping that Dickerson hadn’t managed to line up his next shot. He was surprised when two men entered the room and grabbed the gun from Dickerson’s hands.
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