by Kathryn Shay
“Back at ya, buster.”
Mack was calmer, but Ty could see his jaw tighten, indicating he wasn’t happy. “Then what happened?”
“Sometimes people rub each other the wrong way, Mack.” Ty’s tone was aggressive.
“There’s more to it now.”
Francesca said, “No, Mack, there isn’t.”
Ty didn’t contradict her boldfaced lie.
“Ty?” Deke asked.
“She’s right. I respect both of you. You have years on us. But nothing new happened.”
“Something’s gotta change.” Mack’s tone was commanding.
Ty sighed. “All right. I’ll be nicer.”
“And I’ll be more patient.” Francesca circled the car. “Now let’s get back to the district.”
* * *
By Monday of the following week, the office situation had calmed down. Though she and Ty were frigid with each other, there were no fireworks of any kind and for that, Frankie was grateful.
The door was closed to the captain’s office when she and Mack came back from lunch. Ty returned a few minutes later and was in the corridor when the cap came out with another man.
An angina-like spasm clutched her heart.
“There she is,” Lincoln said to Lou. “Your favorite undercover officer.”
“That and more.”
Frankie walked into the hallway and met him halfway across the room. He looked good with his hair a bit long, probably for a case, his eyes dancing with delight at seeing her. He wore black jeans, with a black T-shirt. Briefly, she remembered what all those muscles felt like pressed against her. “Hi, Frankie.”
Damn him. She lifted her chin. “Hi, Lou.” She lightened her voice as much as possible. “What are you doing up here?”
He gave her a killer smile. “Now don’t get mad. I know you said you were done with undercover, but I need you for something that no one else can do. We have to revive our old covers.”
Behind Lou, the captain intervened. “I told him you’d been approached a couple of times for gigs and said no. But he insisted on talking to you himself. Let me grab my jacket, and you can have my office. I’m going to lunch.”
Frankie said, “I don’t need time to reconsider, Cap. I’m not doing any more undercover.”
Lou took her by the arm. “Now Frankie, don’t be rash. That Italian temper of yours is vicious.”
His patronizing tone grated on her. Had he always sounded like that? But she went with him to the office and closed the door because he was making a scene. They faced each other standing up.
She recognized the look he gave her, even before he said, “Hi, baby.”
“Don’t you dare call me that again.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Old habits die hard. But I need you on this case.”
“The hell you do. There are other female cops who work undercover.”
“Not like you and me. We got chemistry.” In a lower voice, he said, “In and out of bed.”
Frankie realized she had to get control of this situation. She knew all his moves, and he was pulling them out one by one. “What happened, Lou? I told you when you got your promotion that I was done with the relationship. You agreed we should split.”
His boyish shrug, which she used to love, meant nothing to her. “I miss you.”
“How’s Becky? And Adrianna and Louise?”
“They’re okay. But I’m even less happy at home than I was with you in my life.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “And what about me?”
“It’s only been three months. You can’t have forgotten me already.”
“No, I haven’t. Hypothetically, how do you see this playing out? I’d be your mistress year after year, but your real life would be with them? Do you want that for me? Someone you professed to love?”
“It wasn’t that bad. We had plenty of time together.”
She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “You’re a piece of work. It was horrible for me.”
Furrowed brows. “You never told me that.”
“Because I hate people who choose a certain kind of life then complain about it. But I’m telling you now. I was miserable most of the time. If I wasn’t missing you—remember my last birthday?—I felt guilty when we were together. So no, Lou. I won’t go back to that. And if you push this further, I’ll report you for sexual harassment.” With that, she walked out.
Ty was leaning against the wall outside her office. He studied her with concerned eyes. She shook her head and walked to the ladies’ room. At least Ty had made her a better offer. A lot better.
Chapter 11
At seven-thirty the next morning, the captain burst out of his office and yelled, “Collingsworth, Johnson and Mackey, with me. I got a line on possible elder abuse reported by a student at P.S. 5. We’re going over to the high school now.”
All three men jumped to attention and joined the captain in the squad room. Francesca came out of her office. “What about me, Cap?”
“You gotta testify at nine. Then you can hold down the fort.”
“Lucky me,” she said under her breath.
Ty glanced at her. He wasn’t going to make her day any better. They’d been civil since that bastard came to see her two days ago. Word had leaked that he wanted Francesca back in undercover work. But she’d gotten her way. Ty wasn’t surprised by either. “Hey,” he said to her. “Can you do me a favor?”
She smiled at him. “Sure, since we’re getting along so well.”
“We gotta talk about that. But my mother’s meeting me here to have lunch. She’s in town because she’s on the board of a literacy charity headquartered in Baltimore. If she shows up and you’re back from the courthouse, can you entertain her?”
“Sure. But can’t you text her?”
“She’s morally against texting. Long story. I’ll phone her, but I never know if she’ll answer.”
“No problem, if I’m back.”
“I’ll leave a message at the desk, too.”
On the way to the school, Ty phoned his mother. No answer.
“We’re almost there,” Deke told him at one point. “You can’t call Mommy anymore.”
“Up yours.”
“I think it’s nice,” Mack said from the front seat.
“Get your heads in the game,” the captain ordered.
At the high school, which was well-kept, even if it was old, they were met by security guards, who escorted them to the principal’s office.
The principal stood behind her desk when they entered. “Thank you for coming so fast.”
When they were seated, Lincoln began. “Tell us what happened.”
“A student came in to talk to me. He’s seen evidence of his stepfather abusing his grandmother.”
“Did you call elder services?”
“Of course. But it’s our legal responsibility to report child and elderly abuse to the police. The boy’s waiting in the counseling suite with one of our staff. He’s pretty upset.”
“Understood. We’ll be careful.”
The group followed her out and down to the counseling suite.
Disgust rose in Ty’s throat, like the worst bile. “This makes me sick.”
“That’s why we do the job, guys.”
* * *
“Detective Marcello, why do you think Danielle Murphy should be given a plea deal?” The judge, a woman in her forties rumored to care about kids, asked Frankie the question shortly after she took the stand.
The district attorney stood. “Your honor, there’s already—”
“I know there’s a plea deal on the table.” She gave him a haughty look. “I want to hear from the detective anyway.”
“I’d like to speak.” Frankie explained to the judge the circumstances of the kids attacking the homeless man through her perspective.
“And you think Danielle was coerced?”
“My professional opinion is that she was threatened with bodily harm. She had a gash on her
head that she got from the other two when she said no to them.”
“They report the incident differently. They said she tripped getting off the train.”
“Convenient. But the medic involved,” she pointed to Brady Sullivan, who was also in court, “believes a human fist caused it.”
The judge nodded. “Yes, he testified earlier.”
“She was horribly shaken. She could barely look at the victim.”
“At the man she kicked,” the judge clarified.
“Yes. I understand he’s recovering. He could support what I’m saying.”
“You have had some experiences with troubled teenagers, correct?”
“I worked at a teen shelter for a few years as a volunteer. Danielle is like a lot of girls who are victimized into committing brutal acts.”
By eleven o’clock, Danielle’s plea deal was accepted. The girl hugged Frankie, and she was reminded how satisfying it was to work with kids. “Thank you so much, Detective Marcello.”
“Stay away from those boys, honey.”
The girl pulled back. Her tearstained cheeks testified to her pain. “I will. I promise. My mother said we have to make this up to the homeless man, too.”
“Good idea.”
Danielle’s mother hugged her too, then Frankie left the courthouse. The hot sun sparkled on the pavement and she put on her sunglasses. She got down several of the steps when someone called out, “Hey, Frankie, wait.”
Brady Sullivan caught up to her. He was dressed in a pair of black pants, a light blue shirt and a taupe blazer. His dark hair glistened in the light of day and curled at the bottom. A perfectly beautiful male specimen.
“Hi, Brady.”
“Can I take you to lunch?”
She glanced at her watch. “Sorry, I’ve got to head back to the station house.”
“Some other time?”
Looking at this probably safe man, Frankie sighed. “Not for a while. I’m not dating anyone yet.”
“Bad breakup?”
She winkled her nose. “Something like that.”
“Okay, I’ll try in a few months. Maybe you’ll feel better.” He squeezed her arm. “I hope you do.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
But as she slid into her car, she realized when she’d turned down the date, it wasn’t Lou who came to mind. She’d been thinking about troubled gray eyes and a blond man who wanted her.
* * *
After talking to the grandson, the captain called a judge for a warrant and the three of them headed to Cromwell Heights, an upscale suburban neighborhood. The house was all brick and partially covered with ivy. Palatial trees peppered the yard. The doorbell ring was Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy,” and soon, an older woman peeked out a side window. Mack flashed his badge and she opened the door. Her gray hair was back in a bun, but messy and her eye was black. She invited them in, and after some tearful mumbling, she confirmed what her grandson had told them.
“Don’t worry, your son-in-law won’t be home until later. Perhaps you and Tommy can go stay with a relative?”
“My other daughter. We’ll leave this house, Captain. I want to.”
“We can drive you there.”
“No, she’ll come get us as soon as Tommy gets home. The school is providing transportation.”
“What about his mother?”
“She turns a blind eye.”
The four of them drove downtown next and pulled up in front of a
glossy chrome-and-glass office building. “It hits all levels, doesn’t it?” Mack commented.
“I guess so.” Lincoln frowned. “We gotta wait for the warrant,” he said checking his phone. “This is gonna be tense. I doubt if he’ll come easily.”
Fifteen minutes later, the warrant appeared on the captain’s phone. They exited the car, went in by way of the revolving doors and were met by a receptionist dressed to the nines. “May I help you?”
“I’m Captain Lance Lincoln. We’re here to see Jonathan Paige.”
Going behind the desk, she checked a book. “Mr. Paige isn’t expecting anyone now.”
“Damn right he’s not,” Deke mumbled under his breath.
“And you’re a captain of?” She could see their badges prominently displayed.
“Of the Baltimore Police Department.” The cap showed her the warrant.
“All right. I’ll call up.”
“Don’t!” Lincoln’s voice boomed out the command. “Mack, stay with her and don’t let her use the phone.”
The three of them located a directory, then took the elevator up. High in the sky, they bypassed another receptionist, then strode to Paige’s office despite her protest. They didn’t knock, just walked right in. Four men sat around a table. One stood. Dressed impeccably, with a four-hundred-dollar haircut, and a thousand-dollar suit, he asked, “What the hell’s going on?”
The cap indicated his badge and handed him the warrant. He took out plastic ties. “You’re under arrest for the battering of an elder female. You have a right to remain silent...”
“Like hell.”
The captain cuffed him.
“Get away from me!” He tried to shrug Lincoln off.
After the Miranda, Paige said over his shoulder, “Richard, call my lawyer.”
Deke muttered, “Yeah, Richard, go ahead and do that.”
* * *
Frankie was working on a report about Danielle in her office when her phone buzzed. The caller was the desk sergeant, a tough and by-the-book officer who scared rookies. Frankie liked her. “Hi, Tessie, what’s up?”
“Collingsworth has a visitor. He told me to let her up when she came. I gotta drop something off on the second floor so I can bring her to you.”
In five minutes, a blond woman wearing a summer sundress made of some frothy, peach material glided in through the doors. Tall and lithe, she practically floated next to Tessie to Frankie’s office.
Frankie stood.
“Mrs. Collingsworth, this is Detective Marcello.” Tessie’s brows rose and her mouth turned up in amusement, then she left.
Smiling—Ty resembled her—the woman held out a long-fingered hand—with peach polish on her nails. “It’s so sweet of y’all to entertain me until Tyrell gets back.”
Tyrell. Hmm. “You’re welcome. Would you like coffee?”
“No thank you, dear.”
Frankie looked around. “I could probably find tea.”
“I’m fine.” Once ensconced in Frankie’s office, Mrs. Collingsworth’s brow knitted.
“Is something wrong?”
“Have you worked here long? I don’t reckon that I’ve seen you on previous visits.”
“I transferred to the district three months ago. I, um, enjoy the work.”
“Tyrell is devoted to this place. To this task force.”
“It’s a good squad.”
“I’m sure it is...” long emphasis on I’m, “but I do worry there’s no woman in his life.”
Frankie cleared her throat.
“Have you seen him with anyone?” she asked, innocently.
“Um, we don’t socialize much outside the office.” A vision of Ty, naked and sweaty, above her made Frankie feel like a hypocrite.
“My younger son told me he’s been like a porcupine with his needles caught in a bush. Ashley swears on the Bible a lady’s involved.”
“I can’t comment on Ty’s love life.” She was glad she didn’t choke on the words.
“Of course. Your name is Marcello, correct?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is that a married name or your own?”
“My own.” Was the woman going to matchmake?
“I know we’ve never met, dear. I’d remember your lovely face. But you seem so familiar. And your name. I’ve heard it before.”
“I don’t know why that would be.”
“What’s your first name?”
“Frankie.”
“Hmm. Doesn’t ring a bell.”
&nbs
p; “There you are.”
Thank God, Ty and the group walked through the door soon after and crossed to Frankie’s office.
Mrs. Collingsworth stood. “Tyrell, darlin’.” She kissed his cheek. “And Deke.” She kissed him, too. Then she shook Mack’s hand. And the captain’s. They addressed her as Anna Mae. Obviously they’d all met in the past.
Anna Mae turned back to Frankie. “As you can see, I know all Tyrell’s colleagues. That’s why I was questionin’ you, dear. That and your name...” Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “I know where I recognize your name. Now don’t that beat all.”
Frankie felt her face drain of color.
“It’s the same as Alexandra Marcello, the new children’s book author. I’m interested because—”
“That’s Francesca’s sister, Mom. We met her and she’s sweet. Now can we—”
“She’s more than sweet.” Ty’s mother faced Frankie again. “Why, bless your heart, dear, you’re a princess.”
* * *
For the first time in Ty’s recent memory, the entire squad room went silent. Other cops came out of their offices to see why. One who was nearby asked, “Who’s a princess?”
“Why, Frankie here is.” Deke’s tone was indecipherable. “You been holding out on us, girl.”
“I...”
Ty stepped forward so he partly shielded her. “Frankie’s entitled to her privacy.”
His mother’s hand clapped over her mouth. “Oh, dear. I’ve caused a commotion.”
Francesca stepped around Ty. “It’s not your fault, Mrs. Collingsworth.”
“No, it’s Frankie’s for not telling us.” Anger rose on Mack’s face. He was a stickler about honesty. “What I wanna know is why.”
The captain took over and addressed the room. “Break it up and get back to work.” He motioned to her. “Marcello, come with me. You three, too.”
“I’ll wait back here, Tyrell,” his mom said.
Lincoln led them across the squad room, ushered them into his office and closed the door. He leaned on the edge of the desk and the others took seats. Francesca stood in front of them all, firing-squad fashion.