Tactical Pursuit

by Lynette Mae

“Thanks, Dev.” Kelsey’s phone rang and she answered it, waving to Devon as she left.

  DEVON PULLED UP at the rear of the station just after one a.m., thankful that her shift was nearly over. She’d caught up with almost everything except the last-minute paperwork, and it looked as though she was actually going to get out on time tonight. Amazing. She grabbed the stack of reports from her passenger seat and rechecked the interior to ensure that she hadn’t forgotten anything. Satisfied, she climbed out of her vehicle and kicked the door shut behind her.

  “Excuse me?” A man’s voice startled her. The fact that she hadn’t heard him approach was a little unnerving. Automatically on alert, her eyes darted over his body, making a quick assessment of his appearance. He stood at least six inches taller than her, with a cut, muscular build. The blue mechanic’s-type work shirt had the name Vinny stitched above the left pocket. His shirt and pants were smeared with dirt and grease. A scruffy three-or four-day growth of beard covered his face, and his disheveled hair stuck out in various places. He was alone and appeared harmless, but something about him made Devon’s skin crawl. His odd demeanor brought to mind images of some unassuming guy who lives out in the open for years before anyone finds out he’s got ten bodies buried in his backyard.

  His expression had a hint of darkness and the smile that twisted his features before he spoke gave her a chill. “I apologize, ma’am. I thought you were a different officer. My mistake.”

  She watched him walk back across the lot and dissolve into the night. Odd.

  “Who was that?” Nate crossed the parking lot toward her, staring after the stranger.

  “I don’t know. Some mechanic.” She couldn’t see him anymore, so she turned to walk with Nate. “He started to ask a question, then he just stopped. Said he thought I was someone else.”

  “Huh, well, maybe that’s all it is then. You know how it is. People only really see the uniform, not us.” Nate pulled open the back door and held it for Devon to enter.

  “Yeah, maybe,” she said, but something about the guy’s eyes unsettled her.

  “Let’s get this shift in the books. I’ll buy the first round at the lodge tonight.”

  “Big spender.” Devon laughed. “The beer’s free. What’s going on tonight?”

  “The rookie class finished the training program. You have to come. Everyone’s gonna be there, even Mac.” He slugged Devon in the arm playfully.

  “Oh, all right. I’ll be there. Just give me a few to finish up. Then I’ve got to go home and get the Jeep.”

  “All right, bud. I’ll see you up there.” Nate headed down the hallway in the direction of the men’s locker room and Devon took the first left, entering the District One office. The midnight receptionist sat at the front counter doing her best to calm an agitated person on the other end of the telephone line. Devon could hear the ranting caller from where she stood. The receptionist rolled her eyes and mouthed, “Crazy.”

  Devon laughed. “Hang in there, Amy.”

  “James!” A voice bellowed from the shift commander’s office around the corner.

  She dropped the night’s paperwork into the large accordion records file next to a gray metal file cabinet and went to see him. “Yes, Sarge?”

  He held up two yellow message slips. “Detective Sinclair wants you to call her about that car from the chase the other night, and some guy was in here a couple of hours ago. Left you a message.”

  “Thanks.” Devon took the slips, reading as she walked through the rows of cubicles in the supervisor’s area. Her desk was in the back of the room that was organized according to squad numbers and cycles. The first message was from Kelsey, but she’d have to call in the morning. She turned her attention to the second note. Her name was in the ‘to’ line and the ‘from’ line was blank. The message read, “Sorry I missed you. My father sends his regards.” She turned the paper over. Nothing else. Puzzled, she re-read the note, but it still made no sense. She dialed the sergeant’s number from her desk phone. “Sarge, the second note you gave me doesn’t have any name on it. Did you take the message?”

  “No name? Huh. Well, when he came in, the phone was ringing off the hook and I had three walk-ups waiting. He asked for you—no he asked if you worked here. I told him you did but you were out on the street, then he requested a piece of paper to leave you a message. To be honest I didn’t even read it. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Sarge. Do you remember what he looked like?”

  “Let me think. It was busy, like I said. White guy, nothing special, except he was big and cut—ya know, all muscle—brown hair and brown eyes, kind of dirty looking.”

  “There was a guy in the parking lot just now that fit that description. Maybe he left the note and realized he’d made a mistake once he saw me.”

  “Maybe. Look, the other line is ringing, I’ve got to go.”

  “No problem. Have a good night, Sarge.” Devon balled up the slip of paper and tossed it into the trashcan next to her desk, satisfied to have solved the mystery. She checked to make sure her in-basket was empty and switched off the reading light. On the way to the women’s locker room the strange encounter with the guy in the parking lot crept into her thoughts. It wasn’t even a full moon until tomorrow. She shook her head wondering why the nuts always found her.

  Pushing through the door, she nearly collided head on with someone coming out. The woman pitched backward, flailing her arms trying to regain her balance. Devon just caught her wrist, pulling her up before she tumbled to the floor.

  “Sorry, Corporal,” Jessie stammered.

  Devon held Jessie’s body away from hers, but they stood close enough that she felt the heat of her skin. “No, excuse me,” she mumbled.

  Color climbed from Jessie’s neck into her cheeks. A little flip in her own stomach made Devon step back and look away to conceal her own blush. After the conversation she’d had with Mac, it was getting harder to dismiss her growing interest. Her professional side warned her to stay detached, but personally she couldn’t deny the pleasure she felt at the unexpected encounter. She tried to think of a conversation starter, just to extend the moment, but stood there awkwardly. Finally, her brain engaged. “Last day of training, right? Congratulations.”

  Jessie beamed. “Yes! Thank you.”

  “I had a feeling you’d do well. The first time I saw you…umm…” Devon felt herself color even more remembering Jessie’s workout attire and cleared her throat. “Guess I better let you go.”

  Jessie looked as though she might say something and then stood aside for Devon to pass.

  “Have a nice night, Corporal.” Jessie pulled open the door.

  “You, too.” Devon stepped past her and then stopped. She turned back with a question that suddenly mattered very much. Quietly she asked, “Jessica or Jessie?” When the young officer looked at her with a question in her eyes, she clarified. “Your name. I’ve been meaning to ask. Do you prefer Jessica or Jessie?”

  A pleased smile lit up her face. “Either. My friends call me Jessie.” She shyly dropped her eyes to her boots. Devon stood there wishing she could think of something more to say. Pretty women tended to leave her tongue-tied, and Jessie tended to make Devon forget how to do much of anything.

  “Was there something else, Corporal?”

  Recovering, Devon shook her head. “Sorry, I guess it’s been a long night. Take care.”

  “Will you be at the lodge?”

  Devon hesitated and glanced back over her shoulder. Jessie’s face was openly hopeful and that suddenly made her a little skittish. But then again, all of her friends would be there, so it was no big deal. “Yeah, guess I’ll see you there.”

  A bright smile broke across Jessie’s face. She pushed purposefully through the door, and Devon tried to ignore the rise in her pulse rate watching Jessie walk away. Her inner pessimist taunted her about getting stupid over a pretty girl. She grabbed her gear bag and slammed the locker door to silence the voice. Nate’s right, I need to get out and
have a beer with the gang. That settled, Devon headed back to the lot, jumped into her police cruiser and drove home for a quick change of clothes. A cold beer and a game of pool with her friends sounded like a damn fine way to end the week.

  THE POLICE LODGE was packed and Devon circled, surprised by the number of cars filling the lot and spilling over into the property next door. “It’s not like today’s the first day they started pouring free beer,” she groused, eventually finding a spot in the rear. She took a look in the outside mirror of her Jeep, finger combing her windblown curls before striding confidently to the rear door of the hall and letting herself in with her key.

  More than fifty people jammed the place, spread out amongst the two adjoining main rooms. Devon worked her way through to the bar at the back of the first room to get a beer. She smiled at Joe the bartender and held up her index finger, indicating an order for a draft. Four big-screen TVs were spaced around the room, each one showing a different game. The Yankees game played on the one closest to her. She leaned against the lacquered surface of the bar waiting for her order. Joe slid the frosty mug across the bar before leaning in for a tight hug. “Good to see you honey,” he said into her ear. “You need to come and visit more often.”

  “I know Joe, I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

  “Listen,” he said in a hushed tone, “don’t you worry about the IA thing. That was a clean shoot. You did what you had to do.”

  “Wow,” she marveled, “you sure have your finger on the pulse.”

  “Johnson from IAB was one of my first rookies.” He winked. “You’re gonna be just fine. If you need an ear, my bar’s always open.”

  She met him at the end of the bar for another hug, and he patted her cheek affectionately before moving away to fill the next order. Devon carried her beer through the doorway to the poolroom. Three tables lined the left side of the room, and all were in use with additional players waiting in the wings, quarters stacked on the rails ready to go. Four small tables crammed the center of the space, filled with new officers Devon guessed. A couple of pinball machines pinged and rang, lights flashing as the players flipped levers and racked up bonus scores. To her right, two electronic dartboards were in use by a group that included several members of Devon’s squad, including Stephanie. She nodded hello in her direction.

  “Over here, Dev.” She turned in the direction of the familiar voice and saw Nate waving at her from the pool table in the corner. Devon watched the game as she made her way across the room. As usual, Mac was soundly whipping him, systematically clearing the solid balls off the table.

  “Why’s the place so crowded?” Devon continued to scan the faces, waving to colleagues she recognized.

  “This was a big class that graduated, remember?” Nate said, still watching Mac shoot. “Aw, c’mon,” he moaned when she called the eight ball in the side pocket and then slammed it home with authority.

  Devon climbed onto a stool along the wall, just behind the pool tables, content to observe the activities around her. The side door swung open and a young officer held it for the person entering behind him. Devon watched Jessie enter, her eyes taking in the soft curves of a figure normally obscured by the confines of the body armor and gun belt. Nice. A little tingle buzzed through her in response to the visual stimulation.

  Jessie joined the other rookies across the room, and they all raised their mugs saluting their accomplishments. The entire place bustled with promise and youthful exuberance. Their enthusiasm was contagious and Devon smiled, watching the group interact. When a muscular brunette in uniform and wearing knee-high motorcycle boots approached the table, Jessie’s smile immediately faded. Devon recognized her as the sergeant of the motorcycle squad. Angela something. It didn’t really matter. The woman placed her palms on the table and leaned over Jessie, saying something directly into her ear. Jessie responded without looking up, a negative shake of her head accompanying whatever she had said. She stood and pushed past the other woman toward the restroom. Devon knew instinctively the dark-haired woman was the ex that Nate had talked about. She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you, asshole.

  “Devon, c’mon, let’s play doubles,” Mac called to her from the pool table.

  “Yeah, I’m coming.” Devon gratefully said, needing a distraction from whatever was going on with Jessie. The ex met her outside the restroom, and the two of them were now standing in the corner having a serious conversation. Jessie seemed to be fine with it, so Devon stepped up to the table with her friends, but a moment later she clenched her jaw when she saw the sergeant attempt to drape an arm possessively over Jessie’s shoulders. Jessie shifted away from the contact, but they continued talking. When Jessie didn’t walk away, Devon shook her head at her own hasty assumptions. Maybe the two of them were still working things out. No reason they shouldn’t.

  Normally she and Mac paired up for games of pool, but Nate protested. “Oh, no way. You two are not going to gang up on me. I’m taking Mac.” Before Devon realized what he was doing she heard him calling across the room, “Jessie, come over here, we need a fourth player.”

  Jessie worked her way across the crowded room to Devon’s side with her ex staring after her. When Angela’s eyes found Devon’s, there was a hint of challenge, but Devon wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of taking the bait. She simply raised her mug and smiled. Angela turned away.

  Nate racked the balls while Mac launched a new series of jabs about the last time he attempted the break and managed to miss them all. “Aww,” he complained, “we’re on the same team now, remember?”

  Mac relented. “You’re right, partner. I’ll get you another beer as a peace offering. Does anybody else need one?”

  Nate nodded, passing his empty mug to her. Devon downed the remainder of her mug and wordlessly handed the empty to Mac. Every nerve ending registered high alert. Jessie standing next to her was electrifying, sending charges that pulsed through her body, making her hyper-aware of every nuanced gesture.

  Mac tilted her chin in Jessie’s direction. “How about you? Jessie, is it?” She let the question dangle in the air, obviously waiting for confirmation.

  In the silence Devon and Jessie shared a look that shortcircuited Devon’s verbal skills.

  Mac stopped next to her. “Hello?” She elbowed Devon. “Does your friend want a beer?”

  Devon kept her eyes on Jessie’s and said, “Why don’t you just bring us all one, Mac?”

  Mac put her hand out to Jessie. “Hello. My friend here is very rude, but I’m Mac.” Devon closed her eyes and shook her head.

  “I’m Jessie, and yes, I’d like a beer. Thank you, Sergeant.”

  “Ah, my reputation precedes me again. Don’t believe anything you hear. Unless it’s good, right, Dev?” Mac grinned mischievously.

  “Oh, no,” Jessie said, “it’s nothing like that. I mean, everyone knows you’re the chief pilot, that’s all.”

  “I’ll give you that. Air service is a small group, but I’d prefer Mac, rather than the whole sergeant thing.”

  Jessie looked uncertain but said, “Mac.”

  “Good. That’s settled,” Mac said happily. “So, beers all around, including one for my suddenly mute buddy, here.” She swung her thumb in Devon’s direction.

  “Just get the beer, Sergeant.” Devon gave Mac a light shove to underscore her sarcastic tone.

  “Coming right up!” Mac laughed, already threading her way toward the bar.

  Soon, the group fell into the rhythm of the game, easily conversing and sharing a few jokes. While Jessie lined up a shot and talked to Nate, Mac poked Devon lightly in the ribs.

  “Jessie is very nice.” Mac nodded her head in the direction of the woman in question.

  Devon grinned. “Yeah.” She looked briefly at Mac before turning her attention back to Jessie.

  Never the one to let Devon off the hook, Mac prodded, “They graduated. You can stop keeping your secret.”

  “It’s no secret. I told you I d
on’t know her well yet so don’t read into anything.”

  “If you say so,” Mac teased.

  Devon didn’t elaborate to satisfy Mac’s curiosity. Meanwhile, at the pool table, Jessie proved her mettle by sinking tough shots amid Nate’s futile attempts at distraction. Mac started telling Nate some story about flying in a combat zone. It was interesting and Devon tried to follow, but instead found herself stealing glances at Jessie. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of her. When Jessie made her next shot and smiled up at her, Devon felt herself melting into a puddle.

  She cleared her throat, grasping for coherent thought. “I...uh, excuse me.” Her powerful reactions had her feeling so undone that Devon hustled toward the restroom. She lingered in the hallway, attempting to locate her misplaced sanity. Unable to find an off switch for her out-of-control libido, Devon decided to call it a night before she did something to really embarrass herself, like drool on the woman. Jesus.

  When she returned to the pool table Jessie was gone. “Anybody see where Jessie went?” She looked at her friends.

  “She said she had to get going,” Nate said.

  Disappointment squeezed Devon’s chest that Jessie hadn’t even said goodbye. She figured it must have something to do with the woman she saw Jessie with earlier, who Devon noticed was gone now as well. Or you might have scared her off looking at her like she was lunch. She decided that maybe it was a good thing that she didn’t have the chance to spend more time with Jessie. Devon didn’t want to find out just how foolish her behavior could get.

  “I’m outta here.”

  “You sure you’re okay to drive?” Mac asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Devon assured her. “See you guys later.” She called out a goodbye to Steph, who was deeply involved in a dart game, and made her way to the exit, relieved to escape the intensity of the evening.

  “JESUS,” DEVON MUTTERED, “what the hell is wrong with me?” She walked quickly across the parking lot, deeply inhaling the warm night air to resettle her emotions. She told herself she just needed to get a good night’s sleep. She dug in her pocket for her keys, whistling a Melissa Etheridge tune as she walked, and mulling over the evening’s developments. Seeing Jessie with her ex certainly put a different spin on things. Devon always made it a point to steer clear of involving herself in others’ relationship dramas. Cute or not, a woman with a not-so-ex girlfriend hanging around wasn’t worth the aggravation.