Sheltering Emma (Police and Fire: Operation Alpha): Finding Shelter #1

by Drake, Aspen

  Rena smiles widely in that motherly way that makes you want to give her a hug. “That’s me.” She reaches for the paper bag then proceeds to hand it over to me. “Here’s your lunch, Mr. James. Your team is waiting in the conference room.”

  “Thanks, Rena.” I turn to the delivery woman, immediately focusing on those cheeks that currently display her embarrassment. “And thank you.” I wink then head to the large conference room with my new team. Before I shut the door behind me, I glance over my shoulder one last time, curious about the woman and how she ended up in such a tight position.

  Three

  Emma

  Are you kidding me? The hot guy in the elevator is my customer? Awesome. I’m sure that’s gonna be a nice one-star rating with a complaint about my unprofessional demeanor and financial irresponsibility.

  FML.

  I carry the coffee order down two more floors and deliver it to a harried woman who appears to be in her eighties. Then I head back to the street, checking my app on the way to see what my next delivery is.

  The sushi bar three blocks up. Perfect.

  That gives me just enough time to call Yoshi and ask him to have an order of California rolls waiting for me when I get there. Since I have to eat while I make my deliveries, sushi is ideal. It’s an easy finger food while I am walking, and Yoshi never charges me for my food when I’m making deliveries for him. He calls it my delivery tip. Considering that most of my tips are only about 30% of what it would cost me to pay for my lunch, I’m grateful for his generosity.

  I’m on my ninth delivery of the day at two p.m., and if I hit twenty for the day, I’ll get a $50 bonus. And I really need a $50 bonus. So, I ignore the shin splints and blister forming on my heel and don’t even consider signing off until that “bonus attained” button flashes on my phone.

  * * *

  It takes four more hours for me to finally get to the point that I can’t even consider another delivery. And with my bonus attained over an hour ago, I don’t feel at all guilty as I slowly walk back to where I left my car parked and think about the hot bath and book waiting for me at home.

  Dropping into said tub is the first thing I do when I get home, but I only let myself soak peacefully for about five minutes before I start to get antsy. Thinking about all the things I need to get done, I grab my phone and pull up the Meals2Me app.

  In my driver earnings menu, I click the transfer icon to move the money I earned today into my checking account. I should’ve done this on my way home so I could’ve stopped to pick up groceries, but I was too fucking tired. Toilet paper and ramen can wait until tomorrow.

  I almost drop my phone into the tub when I see the number displayed as my balance.

  $5,270.48.

  That can’t be right. There’s no way in hell I earned that much today. There has to be an error somewhere. I scroll through each transaction, looking for the problem. It doesn’t take me long to find it. My delivery at lunchtime to the hot guy with the secretary shows a $5,000 tip.

  Obviously, that’s a mistake.

  I doubt he would’ve given me a five-dollar tip based on what he overheard, much less a five-thousand-dollar tip.

  The bitch of it is I can’t transfer just the $270.48 that I actually earned. I can only transfer the entire balance at once. All or nothing. And I don’t want to owe this guy five thousand dollars when he realizes his mistake and comes asking for a refund.

  Which means I can’t transfer any of it. I must have murdered kittens in my previous life for Karma to hate me so badly. The thought of yet another day being spent begging other people to fix their mistakes so I can pay my bills and access my own damn money is just too much. I’m suddenly exhausted and want nothing more than to fall asleep and pretend the past two years of my life never happened.

  * * *

  “Excuse me,” I say to the woman behind the desk.

  She’s on the phone and holds her finger up to ask me to wait. I don’t really have time to wait, but I also can’t leave without getting this resolved. So, I force a smile and tap my foot, trying to be patient while she finishes the dinner reservation for fifteen that she’s making.

  “I’m so sorry to make you wait, dear. How can I help you?”

  She appears to be younger than my mom, but she gives off that same maternal vibe that all moms seem to have. Despite my frustration, she does put me at ease.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but I made a delivery here from Meals2Me yesterday. Do you remember me?” I hope to come across as genuinely nice and not the fake nice I’m feeling.

  “Of course I do. You brought lunch for our meeting.” She nods, and her smile grows. “Is there a problem?”

  “There is, unfortunately. I think you made a mistake when you were leaving the gratuity. I don’t know if you meant to leave five dollars, but it actually came out as $5,000.” I make a face to convey my shock at the amount. “Obviously, that will be refunded, but I just wanted to bring it to your attention so we can take care of it immediately.”

  She chuckles and reaches for her own cup of coffee. “Well, this might be your lucky day, because that wasn’t a mistake. Mr. James, the man who bought lunch for his team, personally told me to give you that gratuity himself.”

  My jaw drops, and I have no words. How can that be? I take a breath and look at her in confusion. “But why? I don’t understand.”

  She shrugs and looks toward the same conference room the man walked into yesterday. It’s empty now, but I can still see the outline of his firm body walking away from me in my mind. “He said he likes to spend his family’s money. I guess it’s a thing he does…”

  I shake my head, still not completely understanding what she means. “I can’t accept that much. All I did was deliver a few sandwiches. Even $50 would be too much, but $5,000 is ludicrous.”

  “Honey, just take the money. A lot of the guys around here are overly generous. I guess they like helping people, which is why they end up in law enforcement.” The woman just shrugs and leans closer. “He assured me he has plenty to share, so if it doesn’t go to you, it’ll go to the next person. You might as well be the one to get it.”

  I bite my lip, considering my options. I really do need that money. Like really, really need the money. Not only would I be able to get caught up on rent, but I could pay off all my late utilities and not have to worry about where my next meal is coming from. “Are you really sure?”

  She pats my hand with a twinkle in her eye. “I promise it’s okay. Just consider this a good deed someone did for you, and maybe someday you’ll be able to return the favor.”

  Four

  Hunter

  It’s only been a few weeks, but my guys are already starting to gel as a team. We were hand-selected by the chief because of our tactical and field experience, but we’re still essentially strangers, just trying to bond and build the trust we need to keep each other alive and protect the streets of San Antonio.

  Right now, I have a few guys working a ring of car thieves and a couple others following up on complaints about some front porch bandits, but nothing too serious. At least not yet. But those are the kind of cases I’d have fun working. At least I did back in my early days. But as the team lead, I can’t be out in the field the way I want. Now my job is to read reports and make recommendations, both above and below my pay grade.

  Part of me misses the excitement of being on the streets, talking to people and trying to piece together clues, but this is the natural progression of my career.

  After spending three years as a military police officer down in San Angelo, I was stationed in Maryland as part of a team of a cross-branch squad of investigators to study internal affair complaints. I mostly handled sexual harassment and insubordination cases, but after being one of the key members of a team who located the leader of an arms smuggler from the middle east, I was fast-tracked to a director position. I was even being groomed for a possible political career when I got the call that my parents were dead, and I needed
to come home.

  I didn’t plan to take a job in San Antonio, at least not until I was sure I’d be staying for a while. But my dad knew how to mingle and was all too happy to brag about my accomplishments when I wasn’t around. I can count on both hands the number of compliments I received from my dad throughout my life, but according to both the District Attorney and the chief of police, he was quick to brag when I wasn’t around, and they all but begged me to join the force after I moved back.

  So, for now, I’ll do what I can to create a team that can clean up the streets and make the city I grew up in a safer place to live.

  “Hunter, can I have a word with you? I need your team for something that’s just come up.” Chief Presley’s voice came over the intercom on my phone.

  “Sure thing, boss.” I locked the screen on my computer then hit the intercom button on my phone to respond. “Be right there.”

  * * *

  “Hunter James?”

  I look up at the large man towering over my desk and tip the edge of my hat toward him. “That’s me.”

  “Cruz Livingston.” He holds out his hand and offers a firm shake. “I understand your team will be helping me run down some of the leads I come across in my operation for the bureau.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told.” I gesture to a chair across from my desk. “Have a seat, please.”

  The large man slides gracefully onto my guest chair then pulls a folder from the bag he’s carrying. “I’m working deep cover with the Hermanos Rojos motorcycle club. I’m specifically focused on their drug operation assholes and don’t have the bandwidth to chase down everything else that comes my way.” He opens the folder and points to a list of names. “But we need to get on this one sooner rather than later.”

  “What do you got?” I lean closer to the page and scan the list that looks vaguely familiar. “Who are these people?”

  “Women aged seventeen to twenty-five, reported missing from Austin to San Antonio. These cases are cooling or cold, but some new guys at a party were talking about a buyer just over the border who needs a new batch of girls. From what I could tell, the price tag for each girl delivered is twenty-five grand.”

  I shake my head in disgust as I scan the names. Thirty women, and that’s just on the first page. “Doesn’t the FBI want this?”

  Cruz leans back in the chair and clasps his hands in front of his chest. “Yes, we will. After we know for sure there’s a federal crime happening. Right now, it’s all just rumor. We need your team to do some of the legwork to find out if these cases are connected and whether or not the victims are being sold to traffickers.”

  “Okay, we can help you with that.” I flip through the photos and grimace at the seemingly innocent lives that are very likely over at this point. “Any similarities between them, other than being beautiful women?”

  “About half went missing on Friday or Saturday nights after being out with friends. The rest were reported missing after not being heard from for days or even weeks in a few cases. We don’t have good data on when or where they were last seen. They probably aren’t all related, but if we can link even two or three missing women to these guys, we’ll be able to get federal assistance in taking them out.”

  I nod, lifting a polaroid photo of a girl who appeared to be in a quinceañera dress. Such a shame. “You’ll let me know if you hear anything else?”

  Cruz nods as he stands up to leave. He pulls a dictionary off my bookshelf and flips it open. “I can’t make contact often, but if there’s anything important, I’ll get a message to you. If it comes from someone on my team, I’ll give them this as my code word.” Cruz turns the book in my direction and points to the word macadamia.

  I look between the book and him, raising an eyebrow in question.

  “Just remember to ask for it if anyone ever claims to be sending a message from me.”

  Five

  Emma

  I run through Jenna’s front door and drop my bag in the entryway as I kick off my shoes. “I’m here. You can go.”

  Jenna emerges from her bedroom in skinny jeans and the cutest ankle boots I’ve ever seen. “You like?”

  “Holy hotness. Where did you get those boots?”

  She lifts her foot and does a little kick. “TJ Maxx. $14.99, baby.”

  I’ve never been more grateful that we’re the same shoe size. “You know I’m borrowing those, right?”

  She shrugs. “Since my date isn’t here yet, and you’re not officially late, I suppose that’s a possibility.”

  “I know, I’m sorry for cutting it so close. My last delivery took forever because the lady couldn’t figure out how to unlock the office door to let me in.”

  Jenna quirks an eyebrow like she thinks I’m lying. “The woman didn’t know how to open the door to her own office? How does she go home at night?”

  “I asked her the same thing, believe me.” I grab a beer from Jenna’s fridge then walk to her couch. “I was annoyed as hell by the time she finally got somebody to open the door. But I guess there’s a back entrance that goes down a service hallway and opens up to the employees-only parking lot. So she’s never had to open the front door after hours. It was a cluster.”

  “Well, I’m glad you made it.” Jenna reaches for my beer and takes a swig.

  “Yeah, thank god your date’s late too.” I look at my watch and then back at Jenna. “Is that okay? I know how you value punctuality in a partner.”

  She rolls her eyes at me and waves off my remark. “Right now, all I value in any partner is a nice body and decent breath. Beyond that, I’m can’t be too picky.”

  “Probably for the better.” I look around the room in search of my little buddy. “Where’s Ollie?”

  She holds her finger up to her lips to shush me and then waves for me to follow behind her into his bedroom.

  Ollie, Jenna’s son, has a box full of family photos scattered on the floor and is busy arranging them on decorative paper.

  I give my best friend an incredulous look and then step back into the living room with my hand on my hip. “You have him scrapbooking for you?”

  “He loves it. Kids love craft projects, and I have about five hundred printed pictures I’m never going to do anything with.” She gives me a victorious smile. “Win-win.”

  Ollie is one of my favorite people. His dad has never been in the picture, so it’s always just been him and Jenna. And as her best friend, I’m the cool aunt who gets to spoil him then give him back.

  After Jenna’s date arrives and they take off, I make my way to the kitchen and fix some dinner. Jenna keeps the cabinets stocked with easy food that Ollie likes. It’s not gourmet, but I’m more of a takeout girl myself. If I’m cooking, fast, kid-friendly food is fine by me. Once dinner is ready, I call him to the table.

  Ollie comes running from his bedroom and plops down in a chair at the table in the small dining area. “That smells good.”

  “It is.” I slide a plate of broccoli and mac & cheese in front of Ollie then sit down across from him with my own plate. “So, what’s on the agenda for tonight, kiddo?”

  He shovels a few bites into his mouth before stopping long enough to respond. “I need to study for a spelling test, but we can watch TV instead, if you want?”

  “Nice try, kid.” I pick up my fork and dig into the culinary masterpiece I’ve created. “How about we study first, and after that, if it’s not too late, we can watch TV. Sound good?”

  “I guess.” He begins shoveling food into his mouth like it’s a timed race. He hasn’t even chewed or swallowed before he’s pushing another mouthful inside.

  “Whoa, whoa there.” I reach out and still his hand before the fork makes it to his face. “Slow down or you’ll give yourself a tummy ache.”

  He looks at me like I’m crazy. “You don’t get a stomachache from eating too much, you know. You get a stomachache from not eating enough.”

  I let go of his hand so he can take the bite. “You’re not going to lea
ve the table hungry, I promise. Just slow down so you don’t make yourself sick.”

  He rolls his eyes and makes a point of chewing each bite before swallowing and taking another one.

  “Much better.” I take a bite and chew slowly, even going so far as to rest my fork on the plate between bites. “You know, when you grow up, you’re going to need good table manners. Chicks don’t like guys who eat quickly because it makes them feel like they’re eating too much.”

  He furrows his eyebrows. “I don’t get it.”

  I wave my hand to dismiss my strange analogy. “Just eat slower, kid. There’s plenty of food so you can have as much as you want. Just not all in the next thirty seconds.”

  He giggles and nods his head as he chews his next bite. He’s eight, but not as tall as most of the other kids his age. Jenna said he’s the smallest kid in his class, so when he actually has an appetite, we try to fill him with as many calories as he’ll eat. Usually, he eats like a bird and is never hungry.

  “And, if you do a good job studying for spelling, we might even have time to bake some cookies.”

  Ollie’s eyes grow wide as he starts shoveling food into his mouth again. Shit, that didn’t work out at all as I planned.

  “Wait, sorry. How about, while we’re studying, I’ll make the cookies and they’ll be ready when we’re done?”

  “Deawwl,” he says through an overstuffed mouth.

  We clearly have some work to do on those table manners.

  * * *

  Ollie is finally asleep, and I’m about to dig into a Real Housewives marathon when the door pops open, and Jenna comes inside.

  “You’re home early…”

  She slams the door and leans up against it as she unzips her boots. “Why are men such assholes?”