Tactical Pursuit

by Lynette Mae

  “Wow, the seasoning smells wonderful,” Jillian said. “Jessie, can I help you with anything?”

  “I’ve gotten everything just about set, but I’d love the company.”

  Jillian followed Jessie back inside.

  “I think they’re hitting it off fairly well.” Mac dropped into a chair at the patio table. “You and Jill okay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks, Mac. You’re a good friend.”

  “Let’s dig into this dinner and that’ll be thanks enough.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’m starved.”

  After devouring a delicious meal, they sat enjoying the warm evening under the stars. Jillian said, “So, Jessie, I hear that you had a pretty good tussle with Honeycutt junior.”

  “I didn’t know it was him at the time,” Jessie said. “Nate and I got him on a domestic violence charge. He’d beaten the crap out of his girlfriend.”

  “She kicked his ass,” Devon added proudly. “Broke his arm after he punched her in the face.”

  “Nice.” Jillian gave Jessie an admiring grin before her face took on a sober expression. “Who would have thought this situation would be possible? The Honeycutt nightmare continues. I can’t believe that after everything that happened with senior, now we have to deal with the evil spawn.”

  Mac hugged Jillian and kissed her forehead. “I’m not going to relax until that bastard’s in a cell. The four of us have to understand until that happens we need to be extra vigilant. Anything out of the ordinary, no matter how small, we don’t blow it off. Trusting our instincts is what will give us the edge. And don’t forget, we tell each other what’s going on.” She gave Devon a pointed glance.

  “You three be careful,” Jillian said. “There’s not a doubt in my mind he’s coming back your way. I’d sure hate to have to come over here and rescue Tampa SWAT.” Jillian winked at Devon.

  Devon grinned at her. “You wish.”

  “Knock, knock,” Someone called from outside the front screen door.

  Devon started to rise, but Jessie was up first. “I’ll get it.”

  She was back in moments with Kelsey who said, “Damn, I missed the party.”

  “I invited you,” Devon said, “remember? You said you had to work. We’ve got plenty of leftovers if you’re hungry.”

  “Nah, I’m just bustin’ your chops. I will take a beer, though.”

  Mac reached behind her and pulled a beer out of the cooler. Kelsey thanked her and cast a puzzled look in Jillian’s direction, and Devon realized they didn’t know each other.

  “Oh, sorry. Kelsey Sinclair, Jillian Gray,” Devon said. “Kelsey’s one of our detectives. Kelse, Jill’s a sergeant with the Orange County Sheriff. She’s the friend I asked to help us out over there.”

  “A pleasure, ma’am.” Kelsey shifted right into charm mode, flashing a huge smile and taking Jillian’s hand.

  Devon stifled a laugh when Mac automatically linked her fingers together with Jillian’s other hand, sending a silent message. She was pretty sure that Kelsey flirted with everyone, but preferred men. Obviously, Mac was taking no chances. Another first, Devon thought, Mac acting insecure? She must have it bad for Jillian.

  Kelsey pulled another chair up to the table. “This is perfect. I’m glad you’re all present and accounted for, because I’ve got news.” She paused for effect and took a long drink from her beer. “Dev, I went to the jail today and talked to Little Man. As you know, he was less than cooperative at our first meeting. I explained to him this time that an armed robbery charge would get him twenty-five to life, especially with his criminal history. Unless he were to tell me where I could find the gun.” She leaned forward. “I’ll cut to the chase. He eventually told me that he traded the gun and a couple of rocks to a white dude friend of Scooby’s for a car.”

  “White dude?” Jessie asked.

  Kelsey was beaming. “I showed him a photo pack and he freakin’ picked out Junior!”

  Devon bolted upright in her chair. “Holy shit!” She and Kelsey high-fived. They all raised their bottles in a toast. “Now we’ve tied Scooby’s runner with Honeycutt. What about ballistics on the gun?”

  Kelsey said, “I’ve sent the request. That’ll take the state lab a little while to complete.”

  Jillian rose. “I’ll call right now and have our homicide sergeant request the ballistics comparison from our murder as well.”

  “Kelse, you are the best.”

  “I’ve got a really good feeling about this,” Kelsey said. “The Orange County case might be a long shot, but it feels like too much of a coincidence for our boy not to be involved. After all, Junior’s known for his temper, and when he snaps, he lashes out. Even if that murder wasn’t him, we still know he’s got the ratchet from Tampa. We have the evidence tying him to running you down, and the wire ties him directly to Roy’s operation. Those charges will put him away for the rest of his life.”

  “Only one problem,” Devon said. “We haven’t figured out where he is.”

  “We will,” Mac assured her. “It’s only a matter of time.”

  LATER THAT EVENING, Jessie and Devon stood at the doorway bidding their friends goodbye. “That was fun,” Jessie said.

  “Yeah, it was.” Jessie held the screen door for Devon to maneuver through with her crutches and closed the interior door behind them. “I’m so glad this cast comes off tomorrow,” Devon said with a sigh.

  As she passed, Jessie curved an arm around her waist, pulling her close. “Now remember, the doctor said just because the cast is gone doesn’t mean you can blast off at full throttle. You have to give that leg time.” She shifted her hips against Devon’s and squeezed her backside. “You know, I’ll kind of miss the vulnerability part of it.” Her voice soft and throaty in Devon’s ear as Jessie nuzzled her neck.

  “Is that so?” Devon inhaled deeply, immediately feeling the effect of Jessie’s touch in every inch of her body.

  “Mmm, hmm,” Jessie continued, delivering feathery kisses along her neck and collarbone, sending a pulsing signal between Devon’s thighs. She leaned heavily on her crutches, momentarily wondering if she might lose her balance. The combination of several beers and Jessie’s talented ministrations made her lightheaded.

  “Like this.” Jessie placed her open palms against Devon’s breasts. Her nipples tightened beneath the fabric as she gently massaged. “See, your hands are on the crutches, so I have free reign.” Her voice was low and suggestive.

  Devon’s breathing accelerated and her heartbeat thundered in her head. “Jess?”

  “Yes, love?” Jessie watched her playfully. She wrapped an arm around Devon’s waist and leaned in, kissing her thoroughly. The crutches fell to the floor as Devon abandoned them for the stability of Jessie’s neck. Jessie’s pressed her hips into her. The contact of their entire bodies made her tremble. Jessie tugged Devon’s shirt from the waistband of her shorts and stroked her skin, all the while her tongue worked Devon’s expertly. Soon clothing was an annoying obstacle and they moved to the bedroom.

  “You are so gorgeous,” Jessie breathed. She peeled off Devon’s clothes before placing wet kisses along the line of her ribs and then down her stomach. Devon’s muscles jumped in response, while Jessie’s hands continued to roam freely. She stopped to remove her own clothes, piece by piece, revealing herself before Devon’s feasting eyes. Devon grew impatient, desperate to consummate this act of lovemaking. She longed to scoop Jessie up in her arms and lay her across the bed to ravage her, but was frustrated by the obstructing cast on her leg. Her annoyance escaped in a hungry growl.

  Jessie giggled. “Problem, my sweet?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle.” She climbed onto the bed and drew Jessie to her. After that no words were spoken. Their bodies moved in concert, wordlessly communicating the symmetrical beauty of passion between them.

  Devon woke hours later. Although it was now well past dark, the house was still bright with every light burning. Jessie slept soundly by her side, her head resting on
Devon’s shoulder and one leg thrown over Devon’s thighs. Jessie’s gentle breathing and the comfort of lying with her gave Devon a greater peace than she had ever known. She knew for certain that Jessie was right—they were each other’s future. She lightly kissed Jessie’s temple with tears of joy filling her eyes.

  “I love you, Jessica Kilbride,” Devon said aloud.

  Jessie stirred awake. “What is it? Why are you crying?”

  Devon kissed her softly and smiled through the tears. “I just realized that I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with you.” She held Jessie’s gaze with intensity. She remembered the hesitation when she asked Jessie to move in and wanted more than anything to erase any doubts from her mind. Whatever Jessie needed, Devon would do. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind Jessie’s ear. “That’s why I asked you to move in. Because I love you. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? You were waiting for me to say it.” She brushed a whisper of a kiss across Jessie’s lips. “I love you.”

  Jessie took Devon’s face in her hands and kissed her deeply. A soul-reaching kiss that made Devon melt inside.

  Jessie’s voice trembled. “I have loved you since the first day I saw you. Didn’t you know that?”

  “No.” Fresh tears blurred Devon’s vision. She spoke barely above a whisper. “I never dared to think this was possible, but now, you’ve changed everything. I can’t believe how happy you make me.”

  “Believe it. I’m here and nothing can take me away from you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  NATE LOOKED UP from the daily “hot sheet” of wanted subjects and laughed out loud as Devon strode into the roll call room. “Devon. Damn, it’s good to see you in that uniform again.”

  She returned his smile. “It’s good to be back.” Devon continued past the rows of tables four feet long, each seating two officers, until she reached the front of the room. She took her customary seat next to her sergeant, facing her squad. Automatically, she searched the room for Paul, the stellar rookie who was with her the day she was injured, and frowned when she realized that class had graduated at least two weeks before. Devon wondered what else had changed in the eight weeks since she’d been gone. A new group of recruits dotted the room, their fresh faces eager to learn.

  “You sure the leg’s strong enough?” Nate eyed her warily from the second row. “It’s only been two weeks since your cast came off.”

  “It’s a little sore if I overdo it, but the doc says it’s healed. I ran this morning and it was fine.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Nate, I couldn’t spend one more shift behind a desk.”

  “I know what you mean,” he said seriously. “I’d rather take an ass whipping.”

  “All right everybody, listen up,” the sergeant said. He read off the current daily briefs and informed them of various criminal intelligence sheets passed along from the previous shift. Nothing much regarding crime had changed during Devon’s rehab. The same zones were the problem areas just as they’d been the day she’d become a cop.

  “That’s everything.” The sergeant pushed away the clipboard. “Except for welcoming the corporal back. Devon, it’s about time, we were wondering how long you were gonna milk that injury.” Laughter rolled through the training officers in the room. The recruits wanted to laugh, but smiled nervously instead.

  Devon laughed with them. “You guys know you missed me,”

  The sergeant stood, suddenly business-like again. “Steph, do you have the item?”

  Stephanie stood and walked to the front of the room, carrying a shoebox. She stopped next to Devon’s chair with a gleam in her eye. Steph barely held back a grin as she placed the box in front of her.

  The sergeant said, “Devon, the squad wanted to offer a tribute to your recovery and give you a reminder to always be mindful of traffic hazards. We got you a little something to commemorate your return.”

  Nate was red-faced, barely containing his laughter. Steph slapped him in the arm, but she was trying to stifle her own giggles. Devon opened the box and broke into a laughing fit. Inside was a twelve-inch figurine of a crash-test dummy. Someone had dressed it up in a mini police uniform, complete with corporal stripes.

  “You have to admit,” Steph wiped away tears, “it looks just like you.”

  “Yep.”

  “Actually the dummy’s cuter,” Nate cackled, supremely pleased with his remark. Devon went along with the jokes, knowing it was her friends’ way of telling her they cared. These types of moments allowed humor to mask the reality of the dangerous nature of their jobs. Now, they could all laugh at the dummy because everything had worked out. The rest of the squad took turns adding their comments and prolonging the fun until the sergeant called for order, and it was time to get to work.

  “Thanks guys,” Devon said. “I’ll put this up on my desk.”

  After their briefing, Devon stopped Nate on the way out to the parking lot. She loved the camaraderie and banter of her squad, but now that she was back, it was time to get down to business. Honeycutt was on borrowed time. “Yo, funny man, you want to come with me to squeeze the owner of Roy’s Auto body?

  “Hell, yeah. What’s the plan?”

  “My friend in Orange County says that their garage owner murder victim was a business associate of Roy’s. We heard Roy talking to Junior on the wire about his friend being able to give Honeycutt work. Our case is getting better, but it’s still circumstantial. I want to cause him some consternation. Maybe it’ll unnerve him enough to make an error. We have to flush Honeycutt out.”

  “I like it,” Nate said. “Let’s go, partner.”

  Devon climbed into her cruiser, itching to get back into the game. She started the ignition and then remembered the special addition she’d brought for her patrol car. A snapshot of Jessie. Devon pulled the photo out of her shirt pocket and pondered the significance of this small gesture. Never before had she considered adding any personal memento to her squad car. Other guys had pictures of their wives and kids discreetly displayed, and she recognized this decision as a similar statement of commitment. Devon flipped down the visor and clipped the smiling image of Jessie into place on the underside. Warmth and peacefulness spread though her. She sighed. The radio squawked, jarring her back to the job at hand. Time to move. Rousting Roy Beckman was a great way to jump-start her return to full duty.

  They pulled up in front of the building next door to Roy’s shop and exited their patrol cars into the muggy afternoon heat. The air was stifling, with no breeze except for the hot blasts of air that pushed dust against them. Semi-trucks rumbled down the industrial road, dirt swirling. The rollaway gate of the perimeter chain link fence was open, as were the three doors on the garage bays at the east end of the building. The dirt lot was packed with cars of various makes and models wedged into rows. Farther back Devon saw what she guessed were scrapped vehicles that were probably used for spare parts. A dingy gray portable structure in the center of the lot was the office according to the filthy metal sign that hung off-kilter over the door. The sounds of compressors and air guns carried out of the open bays as they approached on foot.

  Inside, Roy was seated behind a banged-up metal desk at the back of the room. A tiny oscillating fan usually seen on car dashboards moved back and forth in an arc, rustling papers on the desk and cork bulletin board behind him. The place smelled of grease, tire rubber, and body odor. Sweat stains beneath Roy’s armpits were likely the source of the last. He looked up and scowled. “I paid my last ticket.”

  “Do we look like traffic cops?” Nate snapped.

  “Then what do you want?” Roy glared at Nate and Devon in turn.

  Devon smiled thinly at him. Beneath the bravado, she saw in his eyes that he recognized who she was. “We came to ask you about one of your employees, Vincent Honeycutt.”

  “I told the detective last week, I haven’t seen him in over a month. He skipped out without paying me money he owed, so if you find him I’d like to know.”

  “Oh,
I think you know where to find him.” Devon spoke matter-of-factly. She moved around the office scanning paperwork and casually examining the business license on the wall.

  “I already told you, I don’t know. The trouble he’s in has nothin’ to do with me. So, unless you have a warrant…” He snatched back a title that Devon picked up from his desk. “You can leave. I’m busy.”

  “Who said he was in trouble? Do you know something I don’t?” Devon watched him closely.

  “No. I just figured if the cops are looking for him, he’s in trouble, that’s all.”

  Devon drew a deep breath and looked evenly at him. “Mr.

  Beckman, let me be clear. I believe you do know how to get in touch with him. You are a liar.” The desired resulting anger flashed in his eyes. She leaned a hip against the edge of his desk. “Here’s the way I see it. The black Mercedes in our impound lot was involved in the attempted murder of a police officer—me.” She paused for effect. “That vehicle was stolen and had VIN plates removed and altered. So, we’re talking a life felony and two first-degree felony theft counts. So far. Then there’s the physical evidence we’ve obtained from three other stolen vehicles recovered recently.”

  “That’s got nothing to do with me.” Sweat dripped down Roy’s brow. Devon took great pleasure in watching him squirm.

  “Oh, but Roy, I think it does. I think that’s exactly what you do here.” She waved her arm in the air, indicating the area around her. “In fact, I happened to notice that BMW out by the front gate is somehow missing a VIN plate on the dash.” Roy fidgeted. He reached for a cigarette, which was amusing because she hadn’t even looked at the car.

  “Not to mention,” Nate added, “an associate of yours turned up dead near Orlando. We hear he worked a similar operation to yours, but he royally pissed off somebody and they capped him. You might want to be careful who you hang with.”

  Devon picked up the conversation again. “We hear that you’ve also been keeping company with some shady characters who might traffic in drugs—even guns. You might be getting in a little over your head, Roy.” She smiled to herself, watching Roy bite his dirty thumbnail.