“Mike,” I call, but he isn’t finished.
“I should have never let you take that kid home with you.” He sighs, shaking his head. “It all stems from that. I know it does. Maybe you are helping the DEA on their case, but I can see this is also personal for you. I just don’t know if it’s because the boy was taken from your home or if it something deeper with Acerbi.”
He stands in front of me, inspecting me the same way he would a suspect and I hate it.
“This blows.” Connie throws her head back, making her chair recline back. “I don’t want a different partner!” The last word is gritted out between her teeth.
Wait a minute. She isn’t getting a new partner, so what is she crying about?
“I’m still here. Just because I’m helping Special Agent Alders on a case doesn’t mean I’m quitting. We’re still partners. I still work here.”
“You still work here? Sure,” Mike chimes in. “But the chief forced my hand, so I had to assign her to the new detective that started Friday.”
“We’re full up. We don’t even have room for a thirteenth detective. Where is he planning on putting them?” I gesture around the room. There are twelve desks, but one of them belongs to the administrative assistant that’s assigned to the detective department since Mike has his own office as senior.
“He’s a transfer from the South Park District.” Cupping the back of his neck and squeezing, Mike blows out a breath. “Pretty sure he wasn’t planning on the guy being a thirteenth member of the team, but more as your replacement.”
My mouth drops open in shock. I’m speechless. I have no idea what to say to that information. The bastard was going to fire me no matter what.
“But your boy Summers put a kink in that plan, I guess.” Connie sits back up, eyeing me while chewing on her lip. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t show up at the hospital. Well, I did, but the chief said I couldn’t see or talk to you because IA was being brought in to investigate your actions. He said I could be subject to the same if he found out I knew anything. I got scared, okay?” she admits.
For a second, I do feel bad. Connie knew certain things because I told her, so if the chief had been privy to that knowledge, she would have been facing the same hot water I had been in with IA. Lucky for me, Eric came to my rescue.
I nod, letting her know I understand. It still sucks, and I believe if our roles had been reversed, I would have found a way to let her know I was at least thinking about her.
“If there’s a new guy taking my spot and my partner, then where the hell does that leave me?” I look to Mike for answers.
“With me.” I snap my head around, seeing Eric walking toward me with a box in his hand. “Snagged this from the mailroom. Grab whatever personal things you have and throw it in here. You can get the rest later. Hurry. I want to get the fuck out of here before I lose my shit.”
“I’m sorry. What’s going on?” I ask, not sure if I’m questioning him or Mike as I look between them both.
“We’ll talk on the way out. But for now, until this case is wrapped up, you’re fully with me.”
Eric places the box on my desk then takes a step back.
His phone rings, so he digs it out of the pocket of his black BDU tactical pants. He takes one look at the screen and then sighs. Before answering it, he glances up at me. “Meet me outside. No more than five minutes.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to reply before he turns, walking back out the way he entered.
“That’s who you get assigned to?” Connie raises her brow. “I get some half-wit, and you get a wet dream. How is that fair?”
I laugh, because it’s right then I realize Eric is her type to a T.
Walking outside, the mid-sixties temperature in early December does little to cool me off. And from the looks of Eric, it’s doing the opposite. I feel the heat rolling off him as I near. He isn’t happy about something, that’s for sure.
“That call you took,” I inquire, coming to a stop in front of where he’s leaning against his SUV. “Is that what has you so pissed off?”
“I don’t lose my cool, ever, in front of others. I had to get out of there; I felt myself unraveling quickly.”
“Why? Did Ramirez say or do something?”
He wants me gone. He could still be pushing that. Hell, he probably is since he’s already brought in another body to replace my position. Shit!
“No.” He shakes his head. “Hop in. We’re going to meet J for lunch.”
“It’s only ten.” I eye him over the hood of his Tahoe as I round the vehicle to get into the passenger side.
“Yeah, but I don’t eat breakfast. By the time we grab something, the restaurant will be filling up and it’ll be twelve before any food is in front of me. Let’s go, Andrews.”
Eric was antsy the whole drive. His only words were to inform me that we’re meeting Justin at Mint, a trendy restaurant inside The Cove—an upscale luxury hotel downtown. Luckily for me, it’s considered a working lunch, so the meal is expensed according to Eric.
With Tom out to ax me, I’m starting to think I was lucky I still got paid while I was out on leave. Something else I might owe thanks to not only Eric but Justin too. He knows the nondisclosure agreement Eric presented to my boss with both of our signatures on it is bullshit, yet he still recommended my reinstatement, putting in his report that he didn’t find any foul play on my part of the investigation into any criminal actions on Drago’s part; citing I accepted an undercover special assignment where having a personal relationship was part of the plan from the beginning.
I spent the first part of my morning reading every detail he outlined in the report. The phone number Tom gave me for Captain Roy Williams was the wrong number, so even though it was a department-issued cellular number, the number Tom gave me was currently unassigned. But being that it was only off by one digit, Justin cited it as an error on the chief’s part.
I’m starting to wonder if it really was an error, or if it was intentional. What if Tom isn’t the man and cop I thought he was? It’s one thing to be a hard-ass and expect your subordinates to follow your rules to the letter. It’s another entirely to break the rules and ethics we all swore to uphold.
“Goddammit,” Eric huffs out in frustration.
Looking over, I see him cutting his eyes up and down, looking at his cell phone and then back to the road.
“Problem?”
“Yeah, but nothing I can’t handle. Just some shit from another case I’m working.” He sighs. “Look, I’m going to drop you off to meet J. He can bring you back to the field office to grab your car afterward. Is that cool?”
“It’s fine unless there’s something I can help you with?”
I’m not sure I want to be alone with Justin. I don’t know him that well, and he may be a part of Eric’s task force, but he’s still IA. It’s a stigma, I know, but it’s one I’m not sure I can get past.
“Unfortunately, no.” He parks along a curb, not pulling into the valet parking section in front of the hotel. Throwing the gear shift into park, he leans back into his seat and looks over at me. “It wasn’t your boss that pissed me off. Well, he did, but that wouldn’t have gotten under my skin. He doesn’t want you in the detective bureau anymore, yet he doesn’t have a viable reason to fire you. So, he’s stuck until you fuck up or he still has the option to transfer you to another precinct, which is where he’s leaning.”
“Ugh,” I breathe out, relaxing into the back of the seat. “Fuck me,” I whine, because why not. It’s not like I can beat the shit out of something to expel all the frustration coursing through me. It’s not unusual for me to get angry or upset in my line of work, but I’ve always had kickboxing and now MMA training to work out all the stress inside me. Now that I haven’t been to the gym in over two weeks, I’m tight all over, especially in my neck and shoulders.
“It was Houston.” Eric’s admission brings me out of my thoughts. “That’s who ticked me off and why I told Ramirez I’d ta
ke you off his hands while this case is active or until he finds you another home with PD.”
“What?!”
Is he serious right now? I never asked or even wanted to be a part of the DEA; not that there’s anything wrong with anyone that is. It’s just never once crossed my mind. I like my job and where I work. Other than being mad at Connie these last couple of weeks, I enjoy being partners with her.
His head swings toward me and there is something in the way he looks at me that makes me do a double take. It’s concern.
“Houston’s partner, Travis Hayes, is going out for surgery later this week and is expected to be out for at least six weeks. Houston conveniently volunteered to let you step in and—” Eric looks away from me, blowing air out of his mouth.
“And what?” I demand.
A scowl develops between his brows.
“It was the way he said it and the gleam in his eyes.” Eric shakes his head rapidly. “I didn’t trust him. I don’t trust that motherfucker,” he clarifies.
“I’m not afraid of Houston if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Maybe you should be.” He turns his head, training his dark eyes on me again.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means Diaz tried to kill you. If you hadn’t been wearing a vest, you’d be dead right now. Do you really understand how lucky you are to be sitting there?”
As his words sink in, I realize it hadn’t truly hit me until right now. He’s right. Not about being afraid of Houston, I’m not, and that’s not going to change because Lance may or may not have had something to do with Diaz and his men coming after Gabriel in my home. I could have died on the floor of my condo at the hands of a drug lord. I could have never seen my family or Drago, or even Gabe again.
“Look,” Eric says. “Let’s drop this for now. It’s done, and you’re stuck with my ass for the time being.” He throws his gearshift into drive without taking his foot off the brake. “Head on in. J should already be inside. I’ll catch you later or I’ll call you tonight to hash out the plan for where we go from here. Sound good?”
I reach for the door handle, nodding. “See ya, Alders.”
After using the bathroom, I asked a hotel employee passing by me where to find the restaurant. It’s on the lobby level, so it doesn’t take me more than a minute to walk there. It’s bustling though, and it’s not even noon. I guess Eric was right. This is certainly a busy place.
I’ve been in this hotel a handful of times. Every time Alana comes to town, it seems we come here for a spa-day together, but I’ve never eaten at this particular place. My sister-in-law usually likes to dine at the most expensive places and they have a fancy restaurant on the third floor that she and I love.
Looking at the entrance, this place has a laid-back vibe while maintaining the fancy, high-end persona it’s known for. There is nothing at The Cove, a luxury hotel, that’s lacking, and from what I can tell, the restaurant and bar are unique in what they offer. There’s a younger crowd of patrons crowding the entrance, making me think this place is your typical run of the mill everyday food, but Mint is famous for its American-style cuisine with a gourmet twist.
Walking up to the host, I stop in front of him, hoping Justin is already here and we don’t have to wait. I’m impatient and waiting for a table is not my strong suit.
Before he lifts his head, I catch sight of Justin sitting on the right side of the restaurant waving me over.
“Can I help you?” the host asks.
“Actually, I see my friend, but thanks anyway.”
Once seated, the waiter is in front of me before I can even open the menu.
“If Alders called in a favor to his dad, then he must have thought you were in danger.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re supposed to be helping only when we need you, not tagging along with Eric.”
“No,” I correct. “What do you mean he had to have called in a favor to his dad?”
It dawns on me, Eric mentioned his parents live in Virginia and that’s when it hits me. Holy shit. Magnum Alders, the director of the DEA is his father. I guess it never crossed my mind that they could be related since Magnum is white, but then Eric could be half African-American or even adopted.
“So, you didn’t know he had to clear it with his dad, or you didn’t know Eric’s father is the director?”
“Both,” I admit.
“Fair enough.”
Picking up the menu, I flip it open. There are a lot of options and none that I’m skimming look very healthy.
“So, what’s semi-healthy at this place?” I ask, assuming he’s eaten here before.
“Not much really.” He grabs his menu, flipping it open. “Bottom right corner. I usually stick with the grilled chicken Caesar or go for a bun-less burger. Their burgers are pretty good too.”
“Bun-less.” I laugh. “I never took you for the burger type without all the carbs.”
He rolls his eyes while dropping the menu back down in front of him.
“Can’t stay this good-looking downing a plate of carbs.” He points to himself, chuckling. “I try to follow the Ketogenic diet at least ninety percent of the time. Heard of it?” he asks.
“Yes, I’ve heard of it.”
I’ve actually wanted to try it for the longest time, but then I’d have to give up my signature Starbucks coffee, the Chinese food I love on occasion, and not to mention the fried cinnamon elephant ears I always get from one of the vendors when I spend a day out at Venice Beach. Not that I’ve gotten to do any of the things I used to enjoy since Gabriel appeared in my life. He really did turn everything upside down, but I still don’t think that was a bad thing. I could give anything up if it meant getting him back.
Needing a change of subject, I take a breath and then ask Justin another question. “So, I guess you and Eric work together often since you’re also part of the task force?”
“When I’m needed. I’m based downtown out of the headquarters office, which is where all of IA is located. But I’m sure you already know that.”
“It’s not a secret where your department is.”
“True, but I’m rarely at my office. Too many officer complaints. So between my IA cases and the task force, I barely have time to breathe.” He flips his wrist, looking down at his smartwatch. “I have forty-five minutes before I need to be at the Echo Park station for an interview.”
“So, order and eat fast then?” I laugh. “Oh, Eric said you would be able to take me back to the field office where my car is.”
“Fuck.” He shakes his head.
“My dad’s office isn’t far from here. Could you drop me there and I’ll get him to take me?”
“Sure.” He nods. “Something to learn about Alders. He can be a hard-ass at times, but generally, he knows what he’s doing even if his methods don’t always seem the obvious choice. But don’t ride with him. Always take your car, because he’s going to pawn you off on someone else.”
Justin takes a sip of his water.
“Noted,” I tell him.
“It’s not that he does it on purpose. But he’s always going from case to case. He can flip a hat better than any cop I’ve ever met.”
I take Justin’s recommendation and mirror what he’s ordering when the waiter brings me a glass of water.
“If this isn’t ideal for eating, why are we here?”
“The kid’s mother.” Justin brings the glass of water to his lips again, sipping. “She frequents here. Eric was hoping we’d spot her and you could try to get useful information out of her.”
“Why not bring her in for questioning?”
“Remember what I said the other day? This isn’t black and white, and we can’t play by the rules on this case. If Diaz or anyone connected to him gets wind that we’ve taken her in for questioning, it’ll likely end up with her dead. Even if she is involved, I don’t like getting people killed. I’m not overzealous in any way. If I take longer on
something, it’s so that I don’t fuck up. And I don’t fuck up, Bri.”
“Neither do I,” I spit, taking offense.
“You sure about that?” He cocks his head and arches an eyebrow.
“I thought your case against me was behind us?” I narrow my eyes at him.
“It is, luckily for you, but don’t think for a second I won’t give you hell from here on out about it.” He smiles, lighting up his face. It makes my anger turn into annoyance. I don’t want to find him attractive, not even a little bit, but I have eyes and he is.
We order our lunch and surprisingly it doesn’t take long before it’s placed in front of us. For a packed restaurant, service seems spectacular so far. Although, I’m not looking forward to the check even if it will be expensed at a later date. I still have to make money last until I get paid next week.
“So, why IA?” My curiosity gets the better of me as I stir my fork around my salad.
Lifting his eyes, he sets his fork down and steeples his fingers together.
“You can’t serve and protect those you’re sworn to when your own house is littered with the same criminals we’re fighting against.”
“Fighting?” I question his use of the word.
“You don’t think we live in a world where it’s us versus them, do you?”
“Maybe,” I concede. Sometimes it feels like the world hates law enforcement, but other times I see the good and the gratitude from people we help.
I turn my head away, only meaning to briefly look elsewhere, but my eye catches sight of Drago sitting at a table on the other side of the restaurant. I can’t control the sharp intake of air I pull in, and I’m not quite sure if it was loud enough for Justin to have heard it. Seeing Rebecca De Luca perched next to him with her hand wrapped around the bend in his arm causes my stomach to plummet and my throat to close up.
Dirty War Page 14