by Jay Allisan
I scanned the cork board from top to bottom, looking for a signature. It wasn’t method. Not age, race, or gender of the victim. Not precinct. Not career. Maybe a token was left at the crime scenes, some kind of symbol.
I steeled myself and took a better look at the photos. There, on the first victim’s chest. It was a splash of red I’d first taken for blood, but now I could see it was a rose, peeking out of the officer’s jacket. The rose was present on all the victims, laid across a chest, tucked behind an ear, clutched in a hand. That had to be the Garrison’s signature, thought what it meant, I had no idea. I needed more information.
I cast furtive glances around the empty room as I went to Max’s desk. I wasn’t interested in his car keys. Instead I jostled the computer mouse, the monitor waking to the logon screen. I typed in his mother’s name, his password for everything, and the system let me in. I sank into his chair and pulled up the case files.
I moved chronologically through the victims, delving deeper into the investigations. No arrests had been made, but the police must have had a few good suspects. The Garrison had to be a group, a team of experienced killers with a personal investment in attacking the BRPD. There couldn’t be too many—
I yelped in surprise as hands came down on my shoulders, swiveling my chair and then yanking me out of it.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” Paddy demanded. “That’s classified, you moron! Are you trying to get arrested?”
He mashed a key and the computer logged me out. I grabbed for the mouse. “But I wasn’t finished yet!”
Paddy blocked me, hissing between his teeth. “You are so fucking lucky I got here first. Dixon would’ve thrown you out on your ass if he’d seen that, and I might do it anyway.”
“I just wanted to see—”
“You. Don’t. Have. Clearance. This. Isn’t. Your. Case.”
“Like hell it’s not!” I shouted. “I might not have a badge and gun yet, but I’m a cop, and these are my people too, my people these bastards are killing! If there’s something I can do to help I owe it to them to at least try!”
Paddy ground his teeth but didn’t say anything. He turned away with a shake of his head.
“You’re a pain in my ass. A self-righteous, thick-skulled pain in my ass, but you’re not all wrong. Get out of here and maybe I won’t tell Dixon.”
“I’m staying.” I hoisted myself onto the table and swung my legs belligerently. “I’ll tell him myself.”
“You think honesty’s gonna do you any favors when he finds out what you were up to? After all the hoops you’ve jumped through I could’ve sworn you want this job.”
“Dixon will understand. He’s got a reputation for thinking outside the box.”
“Not on this case he doesn’t. Not with stakes like these and that promotion—”
Paddy snapped his mouth shut too late. I was already piecing it together. “Dixon’s up for a promotion? Holy shit, is he up for Captain? Wessel’s retiring in less than a month! I thought they’d have someone lined up already.”
“It’s none of your business and none of mine,” Paddy said bitterly. “Forget I said anything.”
I wasn’t about to let it go. Dixon was half the reason I wanted to work in homicide, and he was the one willing to give me a chance in spite of my red flags. If he got promoted out of here, my future was in jeopardy.
“You seem upset,” I prodded. “You don’t want him to take the job?”
“I don’t want anything.”
“You’d rather he stay in charge of homicide?”
“I’d rather you stay out of office politics when you’re not even part of the goddamn office.”
“Just a question.”
“Stupid one.”
“Your nose looks better.”
“Just ‘cause it’s not gushing blood doesn’t mean it don’t hurt like a bitch.” He took a seat at his desk, muttering, “Gonna get you back for that someday.”
I ignored that. “What happened at Red Rocks?”
He ignored me back. I watched him finger-peck for a minute before asking again. “What happened at Red Rocks?”
“Can’t tell you.”
“Just give me the press release, Paddy.” I glanced at the whiteboard and lost some bravado. “Was anyone killed?”
He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Nobody killed, nobody hurt. Building’s gutted, though. Staff’s all being relocated to other precincts til they’ve got something temporary in place.”
“But there was a rose?”
Paddy said nothing. I took his silence as confirmation. “Did any of the prisoners escape? Could it have been some kind of jailbreak?”
“All persons safe and accounted for,” Dixon said as he entered the room. He raised an eyebrow at me. “Max said you were going home.”
“I stayed,” I said, catching Paddy’s eye. “I was—”
Paddy interrupted. “Girl was snooping where she don’t belong.” He propped his ankle on the opposite knee, his face contorting with familiar irritation. “Caught her trying to jimmy your desk drawer with a paper clip. Doing a lousy job of it, too.”
There was a beat of silence before I said, “My phone. You have my phone, and Max was supposed to call—”
“Christ, Shirley, wet blanket much? Can’t go half a day without your boyfriend—”
“I had a stressful morning, asshole. Excuse me if Max going after the Garrison is cause for—”
“Enough.” Dixon disappeared into his office at the back of the room and returned with my phone. My immediate message check wasn’t even an act. I had a voicemail from Tish but nothing from Max. I glanced toward the door.
“He’ll be along shortly,” said Dixon. “He’s coming with the Red Rocks detectives.”
“What about Kris?” Paddy asked. “He had a rowdy one last I saw him. You hear from him yet?”
Dixon frowned. “No. You weren’t with him?”
“We’d just gotten a guy into the back of the car when an officer called for help. Kris went to assist and I delivered my package to Moses River. I went back to Red Rocks to wait for him, but he never showed. The fire department kicked me out so I came back here.”
“You try him on the radio?”
“Couldn’t reach him, and he’s not answering his cell.”
“Try him again. Odds are he’s got his hands full, but I’d like to know just the same. Let me know when you get through.”
Paddy nodded, already dialing. Dixon’s gaze settled on me and I almost squirmed. “Shirley? You still waiting for something?”
“I’d just like to wait for Max, if that’s okay,” I said hastily. “Just, you know, make sure he’s all right before I—”
“Wet blanket,” muttered Paddy.
“Shut up—”
“Might as well,” Dixon said. He looked to the whiteboard and back to me, and this time I did squirm. I could have sworn he smiled. “You’ve waited this long. No sense leaving before—”
“Lieutenant Dixon.”
A heavyset blonde woman stepped into the room, a plastic smile on her dolled-up face. Following after her was a petite woman with vivacious red curls, a tall, thin man wearing a somber expression, and Max, looking painfully uncomfortable. The blonde woman extended her hand to Dixon.
“Word is I’ll be here for the next few days,” she said. “I hope you’ll pardon the intrusion.”
Dixon accepted the handshake, his expression neutral. “Pleased to have you, Lieutenant Shapiro.” He looked past her to the new faces as Max slunk out of the lineup and took refuge beside me. “These would be your detectives?”
“Yes, Detectives Josephine Steinbeck and William Reynolds.”
“Call me Josie,” the woman said, “and call him Whale. He’ll have to tell you the story.”
“Officer Mordecai you’ve already met,” said Dixon. He nodded to Paddy, who rose from his chair. “This is Detective Paddy O’Reilly. His partner Detective Kristoph Gauge is still en route.”
There were handshakes and pleasantries all around before Lieutenant Shapiro’s sharp blue eyes zeroed in on me. “And you are?”
“Shirley Kelly,” I said, all too aware of my lack of title. I slid off the table and offered my hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lieutenant.”
Her smile was condescending. “You didn’t answer my question, dear. You are?”
“Shirley Kelly,” I repeated, bristling. “Or is my name not good enough for—”
Dixon touched my hand, still extended in a now-defunct gesture of goodwill, and I stuffed it in my pocket. “Ms. Kelly is graduating from the academy in six weeks,” he said, “at which time she will begin training for homicide under my supervision. She’s with us.”
Max slipped an arm around my waist. I just about beamed with happiness.
Lieutenant Shapiro’s smile became forced. “Another recruit.” She fixed her gaze on Max, who colored. “Some might question the capability of a unit staffed with amateurs.”
Thick, heavy silence.
“Staffed with what?” Paddy growled.
Dixon’s eyes were flat and dangerous. “Do you question this unit’s proficiency?”
Lieutenant Shapiro pursed her lips in disinterest. “It just strikes me as an odd professional decision for a man with your record, but perhaps I’ve got the wrong idea. Perhaps,” she looked from Max to me, “it’s a personal courtesy instead.”
Lieutenant or not, I was ready to pop her in the mouth when Josie began coughing dramatically. She pounded herself on the chest.
“Wow is it ever dry in here. I’d sure love a glass of water. Could someone show me where the kitchen is? Shirley?”
“No problem,” I answered, glaring at her boss. “I could use some fresh air.”
I brushed past Lieutenant Shapiro and led the way down the hall, Josie scrambling to keep pace with me. She grabbed me by the elbow and forced me to a walk.
“Slow down, Shirley, where’s the fire?” She laughed. “Whoops, sorry, bad turn of phrase. This place had better not go up too, though the way things were heating up, who knows, right?”
I turned wordlessly into the kitchen and pulled down a glass from the cupboard. I filled it from the tap and handed it to her.
Josie leaned against the counter as she sipped the water. Her bright green eyes studied me openly. “Don’t be mad,” she said. “At least, don’t be mad at me. Shapiro was way out of line and everyone knows it.”
I folded my arms. “What’s her problem? She doesn’t know anything about me, or Max.”
Josie winced sympathetically. “Nothing about you maybe, but I bet she grilled Max pretty good on the ride here. And really, as far as she’s concerned, all she needs to know about you is that you’re part of the placement program.”
“What’s she got against that?”
“Oh, she’s made all sorts of protests, arguing that everyone needs those first few years answering calls before knowing where their strengths lie. If you ask me, she’s just bitter it wasn’t around when she came up. She thinks it’s a shortcut.”
“Bullshit! She has no idea how hard I’ve worked to be top ranked at the academy, and I have to go through detective training same as everyone else. It’s not like I’m handed a free ride.”
Josie set her glass in the sink. “Don’t let her get to you. If you’re here it’s because you deserve to be.”
“I didn’t sleep my way here,” I muttered.
“I slept with my first training officer,” she said. “Married him, too.”
“People give you a hard time?”
She laughed. “Like you wouldn’t believe, and it didn’t stop even after we got divorced. I didn’t let it stop me, though, because I’m a great detective and I know it.”
I raked my hand through my hair and let out a sigh. “Thanks for intervening back there. I was about to do something I’d regret.”
Josie winked. “Maybe so, but she would’ve deserved it.”
WHEN WE returned to the office the atmosphere had shifted from hostile to apprehensive. Max was on his phone, someone I didn’t recognize working at a computer beside him. Paddy and Whale had their heads bowed together, and Dixon and Shapiro were shut up in the conference room.
Max set the phone down with a shake of his head. “Nothing.”
“Keep trying,” the new guy said. “I’ve just about got the signal locked down.”
Max hit the redial button, his foot tapping nervously. I dragged a chair up beside him. “You okay? What is it?”
He chewed his lip. “We still can’t get ahold of Kristoph. Quin is tracing his cell phone signal, but he’s not answering. Why isn’t he answering?”
The unspoken fear felt like a tangible presence, so ingrained it was an automatic leap. I tried for another explanation. “Paddy said the transport was rough. Maybe his phone got knocked out of his pocket, or he dropped—”
“I’ve got it,” Quin said. “The signal’s coming from the Amberleigh neighborhood.”
Paddy’s head snapped up. “From Moses River? Is he at the precinct?”
“He’s moving.” Quin traced a finger along the computer screen. “He’s west of Moses River, heading toward the docks. Call him again.”
The room went quiet as Max redialed. He wove his fingers between mine.
“Kris!” he said suddenly. “Kris, it’s Max! Where’ve you been? Why didn’t—” All the color drained from his face as he whispered, “Who is this?”
Paddy was there in a heartbeat, snatching the phone out of Max’s hand. “Get Dixon. Get Dixon now.”
I moved first, panic spurring me into action. I ran to the conference room and burst through the door, the words erupting before I’d even processed them.
“The Garrison has Kris. Paddy’s got them on the phone.”
Dixon ran past me without a word. Shapiro stopped in the doorway and blocked my exit.
“You can’t be here, Shirley. You need to leave.”
“Like hell. I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s an order. You’re not an officer—”
“Which means I don’t take orders from you, Lieutenant. No offense.”
I shouldered past her, forcing my way back into the office. Dixon was on the phone, calling for squad cars to converge on Kristoph’s GPS signal. His voice was nearly lost beneath Paddy’s rage.
“You fucking bastard!” Paddy roared. “You hurt him, you harm one hair on his head, and I’m gonna tear your lungs out through your ass! You hear me?! You touch him and you’re—fuck!”
He hurled the phone against the wall, tremors rippling through him like an aftershock. “I lost him,” he said hoarsely. “They’ve got Kris… oh, fuck. They’ve got—”
“We’re going to get him back,” said Dixon firmly. “We’ll have units at his position in less than a minute.” He put his hand on Paddy’s shoulder and guided him to a chair. “Tell me what happened. Start to finish.”
“I called,” Max said, quiet. “I called a dozen times with no response, but then he—someone picked up. I thought it was Kris but then he said, ‘Do you know who this is’ and it wasn’t Kris’s voice. Then Paddy took the phone.”
Paddy hunched forward, his eyes pressed shut. “I took the phone, and I said, ‘Where’s my partner’, and he said, ‘Do you know who this is’, and I said yeah. He told me to say it, so I did. I said, ‘You’re the Garrison’, and he said, ‘Then you know what’s coming next.’”
“You’re certain it was—”
“It’s him, it’s the fucking Garrison, and they’ve got my goddamn partner!” Paddy was on his feet again, starting for the door. “I’ve gotta go. I’ve gotta get to Amberleigh and find—”
Whale stepped in front of him, his hands raised in placation. “You won’t get there before the squad cars do. We need you here. We need your statement.”
“I’m going after—”
Dixon’s phone rang. He listened briefly, then hung up. “Uniforms recovered Kris’s phone,” he said. “It
was in an abandoned squad car. Forensics is en route.”
Paddy’s voice rasped. “En route for what?”
“They found signs of a struggle.”
“You mean blood.”
“I mean blood.”
Paddy sank into a crouch, his palms pressed against his temples. Dixon knelt in front of him. “How do you know it was the Garrison?”
“Last thing he said,” Paddy whispered. “‘Now he’ll get his rose’. Nobody else could have known about the roses.”
“What else did he say? Anything that could identify him?”
“Nothing. There was nothing else.”
Slowly Dixon straightened, pushing his glasses up his nose. He looked at Max. “Get upstairs. Tell Wessel we need every officer on the streets. Call in anyone off-duty and get them out there too. I want uniforms sweeping everything from the docks to Moses River. The rest of you pull every file we’ve got on these bastards. I want to know who they are and I want to know now.”
Max sprinted for the stairs. Whale said, “I’ve finished the sketch of the officer Detective Gauge left with. It’s rough, but—”
“You take it,” Dixon told Quin. “Scan it and run it through facial recognition.”
Quin hurried from the room. Josie and Whale each chose a computer and I dropped back into Max’s chair. The display disappeared just as I logged in.
Shapiro stood over me, the input cable in her hand and her expression furious. “Lieutenant Dixon, I can’t allow this,” she said loudly. “This is a breach of privacy and security, not to mention protocol, and I won’t stand for—”
“Don’t stand,” Dixon spat. “Take a cue from Shirley and get to work.”
“She can’t be working on anything until she graduates, which, if I have anything to say about it, won’t be—”
“I don’t give a flying shit what you have to say, not when my man’s in trouble. I’ll take all the help I can get. You got a problem with that, then get out of my office.”
Shapiro flung the cable down and stalked to the whiteboard. Dixon’s hand fell on my shoulder in brief assurance. “Ask questions. We could use a fresh perspective.”
I reconnected the monitor and pulled up the case files. “First question: any ex-cops on your suspect list?”