by Lynette Mae
“Yeah, yeah,” Devon groaned, before shooting a sideward grin at Paul Nicholson, the recruit behind the wheel. He was actually top notch. She considered him the best rookie she’d ever trained, and she liked his personality. Devon knew Paul didn’t take her grumbling seriously. He laughed as they pulled out of the parking lot. She watched Steph’s vehicle pull away first and while Paul drove, she dialed Kelsey’s number to relate the details of their call.
“I didn’t think you were working tonight,” Devon said.
“Crazy night. I was on a call around the corner. Get this. A uniformed officer responds to a auto theft at a car storage place. Three Mercedes Benz and a couple of BMW coupes were taken out of the lot. It looks like they freakin’ drive up and remove the gate, go in and drive off with the five cars.”
“Wow. Sounds like an inside job.”
“Most likely. And, that’s not all. Vice still has the wiretap going and we picked up some very interesting chatter tonight. I was going to call you later, but now I’ll fill you in when I see you.” There was no mistaking the excitement in her voice.
“I’ll be waiting.” Devon grimaced as she climbed from the patrol car and took in the scene before her. The firemen were drowning the vehicle with hundreds of gallons of water. Devon couldn’t see any more flames, but the fire fighters continued to flood the wreckage as an extra precaution. One of the guys used a crowbar to wrench open the hood, and the one on the hose doused the entire engine area as well. The acrid smell of burned rubber and charred upholstery produced noxious gasses and the officers tried to stay upwind to inhale as little as possible. What a mess. At least they’d gotten lucky and it wasn’t fully engulfed, which would have obliterated any possible evidence.
When the firemen finished, the two recruits carefully combed through the wreckage looking for any salvageable item to be cataloged on the impound inventory. Between the fire and the water, Devon doubted they’d find anything, but she wanted to be thorough just the same. “If you find anything, let me know. I’m going to check the hot sheet for vehicles like this one.” Sure enough, a green Chevy had been used in another robbery a couple of nights before. No tag on this one, she noted.
A dark blue sedan pulled up behind her squad car and Devon smiled at Kelsey. “Sorry to add to your work tonight.”
Kelsey climbed out of the car and pulled a notebook from her back pocket. She was dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, much more casual than her normal business attire.
“Who wants to relax on a Sunday night?” She plucked a pen from behind her ear. “What have you got?”
“This one matches the general description of the getaway vehicle in that restaurant robbery from Friday night.” Devon pointed toward the burned out wreckage. “No tag on it.”
Kelsey nodded. “Let’s have a look and see if we can find a VIN.”
Devon checked the VIN plate on the dash, just at the base of the windshield. It was a little melted, but she could just make out the numbers. She jotted them down in her notebook and then ran the number on her computer. “Comes back to an eighty-five Chevy,” she told Kelsey, who was leaning over the engine block and straining to see something on the back wall.
“Dev, you’re taller than me. If I shine the light, see if you can read off the number for me? Just give me the last four for now.”
“Sure.” Devon leaned down and called out the last four digits. She frowned, realizing they were different from the numbers on the dash. The numbers should match.
“Just as I thought,” Kelsey said. “They switched the VIN in the dash, ’cause that’s the most common place people look. The number on the engine block is the real one.” They ran that number, and sure enough, it came back stolen.
Kelsey made some notes and examined the rest of the car while Devon and Steph had their rookies order the tow truck and check the area for possible witnesses.
“So, what do you think is going on?” Devon asked when she finished.
“I really don’t know. The car lot job has got to be pros, but these individual ones…” She shook her head. “I’m thinking it’s the same guys taking the cars with the VINs switched out. Kids don’t do that. For now, I’m focusing on those, because they keep showing up in other crimes. The others have vanished, probably sold, and headed for points south, like the one I told you about in Miami. I think the same shop is running the operation, though. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Roy’s name came up.” Kelsey flipped through her notes as she talked.
“What about Honeycutt?” Devon watched the car being hoisted onto the flatbed of the wrecker. As the front end lifted off the ground, water gushed from the interior.
“Miami ID’d your guy. He’s the one who dropped the vehicle at the port there.”
“No shit?” She spun back toward her friend waiting for the rest.
“Yeah. I haven’t got enough to link him to the other thefts, so I’ll let that ride. The detective in Miami and I are going to compare notes to get the whole picture and hopefully make a much stronger case. It will help that Vinny’s got priors out the ass. I can get more leverage with his probation officer. That was a real treat talking to him at the jail. Apparently, women are supposed to be subservient to men in all things, which kind of put a damper on our rapport.” She snorted. “He’s a jack of all trades, and his specialty is lifting cars. But of course, he does things like beating women in his spare time. I wanted to kick the shit out of him right there in the jail.”
“Sounds like a real asshole,” Devon said.
“But that’s not all. I got some more background on him for you. Interesting stuff. White male, Vincent Honeycutt, twenty-nine years of age, released last August from Florida State Prison at Starke. His first juvenile arrests are in Maryland and Virginia. Small-time stuff, thefts and the like. Nothing that really sticks out.”
“What’d he do that landed him in the state prison with the big boys?” Devon asked.
“That aggravated assault charge was dropped from attempted murder. He drove a screwdriver through a co-worker’s eye during a fight at the body shop he worked at.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah,” Kelsey said. “He’s got anger issues. His encounters with the law go back to when he was about sixteen. Oh, and he fits the description the kids in the stolen car gave us on the guy who traded it for dope.”
“What about Martin Honeycutt?”
Kelsey walked toward her car, away from the others, and Devon followed. “That’s where things get interesting.” Kelsey spoke in a hushed but animated voice. “His military service record shows a dishonorable discharge and an arrest. Did you know about that?”
“Yes.” Devon remembered the day Honeycutt was taken into custody. He was charged with falsifying documents in order to justify her arrest for conduct unbecoming an officer.
“Did you know he committed suicide several years later? I’ve got a copy of the obituary notice listing a Vincent as his surviving son, and I found a hometown newspaper article with a picture of the funeral service. The son and our boy are one in the same, Devon.”
Devon stood perfectly still, absorbing the words. The wrecker driver finished securing the car with chains and the hydraulic lift groaned as it shifted its heavy load into place. Her stomach soured. Suddenly the truth came rushing in like a roaring waterfall. He was in town because she was. She could dismiss it as coincidence if they simply happened to arrest him on the battery charge, but he had made a point to show up at the station and walk right up to her. She winced at the realization that in all likelihood he had known full well who she was and she had been completely vulnerable. It wasn’t a good feeling. Kelsey was still speaking and she refocused.
“Did you hear me? Did you know that?”
“No. Not the suicide.”
“Are you going to let me in on what’s going on soon? Does the father’s suicide have something to do with your past? And is that the reason the son’s here?”
“I’m starting to think it might be. His fa
ther was definitely an enemy when I was in the service.” Devon’s brain was in overdrive as she thought about all of the implications. “Vincent was hanging around the lot at the station the other night.”
“We’ll deal with it as it comes. Just make sure you keep me in the loop, Dev.”
“I will. So, did you talk to him again?”
Kelsey shook her head. “He made bail somehow before I got back out there to follow up. I was hoping maybe you might have some time tonight or tomorrow to try to find him at his place there off of Broadway. Given your history with the father, I’d obviously prefer you to take someone with you. I didn’t see the Taurus when I went by there yesterday. Hopefully, he didn’t skip out on us.”
“I’m on it.”
“Thanks. Also, Roy’s auto body is still my best guess for engineering this little enterprise. As of right now, I’ve got nothing concrete to actually tie them in, beyond the name Roy mentioned on the wire. If we can find any kind of link, then I can get a search warrant for the place. These guys are slick. I’ve got some spotty surveillance going on but nothing to show for it. He’s keeping his little side business pretty well hidden so far.”
“Maybe he’s got another place where they clone the stolen cars?” Devon suggested.
“Probably. Do me a favor and look around. It’s gotta be close by. Call me if you need anything. I’m heading back home to try to salvage the rest of my night off.”
It was nearly the end of the shift before Devon could even think about getting back out to check on Kelsey’s leads. Paul stopped the patrol car several houses away from where she'd previously arrested Vincent Honeycutt, and they exited quietly to make the rest of their approach on foot. He jogged to catch up with Devon, who was already striding quickly toward the porch of the now familiar ratty duplex. Unlike her first visit, all was quiet. Tonight an empty six-pack of cheap beer sat on the cracked cement stoop beside the door. Both sides of the place were dark, but an old air conditioner rattled loudly in the window on the south side. Devon was glad. That was Honeycutt’s unit and the noise would conceal their presence. She circled the entire building without finding any sign of the inhabitants or their vehicles. Devon wondered briefly if his female companion had finally gotten her fill of the beatings and left.
“Anything?” she asked her trainee.
Paul shook his head as he emerged from the other side. “You think he’s still here?”
She motioned in the direction of the front window. “Somebody’s running the A/C unit.” Scanning the surrounding property one more time, Devon had a gut feeling that he hadn’t moved on. He might be gone right now, but he’d be back and so would she. The muffled sound of an air compressor kicking on behind her made her look to the east. A dim light was burning somewhere inside the body shop a few doors down. The rolling chain link gates out at the road were closed and secured with a padlock, but someone was working inside. Her eyes followed the roofline to the front of the business. A hand painted sign read: Roy’s Auto Works.
“Let’s go, Paul. We’ll follow up on this next week.”
ROUNDING THE CORNER of her street on Monday evening, Devon was surprised at the sight of Mac’s truck in her driveway. She pulled past it into the garage and then hit the button on the inside wall to close the door before entering the house through the kitchen. When she reached the doorway of the living room, she had to laugh at the sight of her friend sitting on the couch with a beer in her hand, her sock-covered feet propped up on the coffee table.
Mac grinned at her. “Hiya.”
“What’s up?” Devon took her gear bag to the bedroom and dropped it on the floor. She’d been teaching defensive tactics at the academy most of the day, and the beer in Mac’s hand looked like just the thing to cool her off. First she needed a shower.
“Hope you don’t mind me letting myself in,” Mac called from the living room. “I just wanted to hang out. I ordered a pizza.”
Devon leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded across her chest and studied Mac. She had this aura of happiness around her, like she was quite contented to be sitting right where she was, without a care in the world. Her weekend had obviously gone well. The two of them must have shared an evening just like this one hundreds of times, kicking back and talking about whatever was on their minds. The problem was, Devon wasn’t sure how much she wanted to hear about whatever was going on with Mac and Jillian at the moment. She and Mac had been sharing details of their lives for more than ten years now, but this time Devon was feeling a bit of anxiety about what Mac might want to tell her. No matter what she’d told herself about being supportive, this was obviously going to require some adjustment. Still, she didn’t want Mac to feel uncomfortable and gave her an easy grin. “You disappear for three days and then suddenly show up here?” It was the only question that came to mind.
“I did not disappear.”
“I last saw you at a bar in Orlando on Friday night with a strange woman,” Devon said. “Today’s Monday.”
“I’ll give you the three days, but she was no stranger.” She winked at Devon, who covered her ears.
“I don’t want to hear details.”
Mac laughed at her. “You want a beer, then?”
“In a minute. I’m in desperate need of a shower. Be right back.”
Devon emerged feeling refreshed but hungry and glad to see Mac carrying the pizza box to the coffee table with plates and napkins. She picked up her beer and plopped onto the couch next to Mac, taking a long, satisfying drink. They dug in wordlessly, each drifting in her own thoughts, although Devon suspected that Mac was here to do more than share a meal. She lifted a second slice of pizza onto her plate and they settled back, both sets of legs crossed at the ankles on the table. “Damn, this is awesome. Thanks.”
“No sweat.”
“You’re in a good mood tonight,” Devon observed after a few bites. Mac looked as if she wanted to say something and Devon waited. She knew Mac was very precise when sharing her feelings, never one to just pop off without thinking. That’s why Devon paid attention when Mac talked.
“How’s Jessie?” she finally asked.
“Good. I haven’t actually seen her yet. Scheduling hassles.” Devon felt herself grinning foolishly at just the mention of Jessie. “She’s good.”
“Good. You said that.” Mac chuckled and sat back, watching her with interest. “So you’re seeing her officially?”
“Wednesday night will be our first actual date, but we’ve been talking a lot, wearing out my mobile phone battery. I’d like to think it’s a beginning.”
“That’s…good.” They both laughed now. “Don’t we sound intelligent tonight?” Mac said.
“Beautiful women do that. Make your brain go all fuzzy.” Devon playfully tapped her finger on the top of her dark head. “Especially after you sleep with them.”
Mac looked uncomfortable and shifted on the couch. “I tried to imagine what it would be like if you suddenly told me that you were dating my ex, but I couldn’t do it.”
“I knew the minute I saw you with her at that bar that it was inevitable.” Devon shrugged. “Different circumstances.”
“That’s it? Really? This is me, remember? I happen to know you’re not that well adjusted.”
“Funny.” But Mac was right, so she came clean. “It’s a little weird. And I’ll admit it’s going to take some getting used to. I will though.”
“I’m glad to know you aren’t just being magnanimous for my sake.”
“This whole thing has been kind of crazy.” Devon’s gaze drifted to the window and her mind’s eye saw a younger version of herself, so brash and foolish. She blew out a long breath and refocused on Mac. “Anyway, we had dinner and came to an understanding.”
“I talked to Jillian about you the other night.”
“That’s not a very conducive topic for romance,” Devon told her.
“It was important for both of us,” Mac continued. “Actually, she brought it up. She asked m
e how long I’d known you and then asked me a little about Beirut. I didn’t know you hadn’t told her about Alex. Sorry.”
“That’s okay. It doesn’t have to be a secret.”
“Of course, that led into the topic of your relationship with Jillian, briefly. For what it’s worth, I got the feeling that she genuinely regrets what happened with the two of you. I know how stubborn you can be when you feel that someone has betrayed your trust. I think she’s paid the price. You were both young and scared, making the best decisions you could under incomprehensible stress.” Mac looked kindly at Devon. “Jill told me that the two of you were friends before anything else and she would love nothing more than to reestablish your friendship. Your call, though. I’m not taking sides. The part of me that’s your friend just needed to know that she really cared about you once.”
Devon had so many conflicting emotions when it came to Jillian. But once upon a time, it had been true that next to Mac, there was no more loyal friend to have than Jillian Gray. Devon understood the compassionate woman beneath the frivolous playgirl front that she put on for the rest of the world. One look at Mac told Devon that she’d be seeing more of Jill, for sure.
“You don’t have to worry, I’m good. We’ll work on the friendship.” She tapped her bottle against Mac’s. “You’ve made quite an impression on her, and that’s no small thing. I’m happy for you.”
Relief washed over Mac’s features. “Glad that’s settled. Anyway, tell me all about Jessie. You’re different about her. Intense.”
Devon favored Mac with a flash of her trademark grin, then said seriously, “To be honest, Mac, I realized that Jessie makes me feel...I don’t know.” She bit her lip, trying to think of the right explanation.
“Like you’ve been wasting time with every other woman you’ve known?” Mac said. “I get that.”
“That is one way of putting it. She’s amazing. You get that, huh? As in, you feel the same way? Wow, I didn’t realize just how serious you were.”
“Jill is like no woman I’ve ever met. She makes me want to really know her—not just physically. Ya know, things like whether she likes cherry or orange popsicles, or if she cries at sappy old movies, what’s her favorite color.”