by Carsen Taite
“Walters, you mind waiting for us at the bar?”
Nancy looked between us, clearly puzzled about the request and reluctant to comply, but she did what he asked. Jackson waited until she was settled on a barstool before he started talking.
“Jorge is green. He never should’ve been promoted to detective so soon.”
“Okay.”
“He’s a nice enough kid, but he doesn’t get how things work. You know what I mean?”
I didn’t have a clue, but I nodded to keep him talking.
“Some of the guys let him work their CIs, but he didn’t really know what he was doing. When I tried to give him advice, he did that rookie thing, acting like he knew more than he did, saying he had it handled. You know what I mean, don’t you, Bennett?”
Didn’t take a rocket scientist to read an undercurrent there. He knew I’d been a rookie once and had never made it any further. I tried to follow what he was saying, but I really didn’t have a clue where he was headed. “Did you know the CI he used, the one that testified before the grand jury?”
“Garcia? I knew him, but he was bad news.”
“Why was he still on the books?”
“Other guys used him. He earned his keep.”
“Care to give me names?”
“It’s your investigation. You figure it out. Me? I’ve got too much at stake. The boy didn’t listen, and that’s his fault. I’ve got my own stuff to take care of.”
He glanced around nervously, and I saw him fix on Nancy who was seated at the bar, acting like she wasn’t trying to listen in. I lowered my voice to a whisper. “She okay?”
“Who’s to say? Jorge didn’t set this up on his own, and whoever did has the power to take anyone down.”
“Funny. You seem to be immune. You want to tell me why you didn’t get swept up by internal affairs?”
He shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He stood up.
Not much of an answer, but Jackson was done. I asked a few more questions, but he waved me off and downed the rest of his beer. I finally gave up and climbed out of the booth. Nancy jumped off her barstool, and the three of us walked out of the bar. I looked down at Cash. He seemed a little twitchy. “Cash, you need to pee?”
Instead of a simple yes or no, I got a long string of whines and yowls. I turned to Nancy and shrugged. She said, “Pretty sure that’s a yes. There’s a field behind the bar where he can take care of business. I’ll wait here. I need to talk to Greg.”
Greg didn’t look like he wanted to talk, but I figured I’d give her a shot. I whistled to Cash to follow me, and we walked behind the bar where I shooed him into the field. While he did what dogs do, I took stock of the surroundings. From the back, the bar looked like a rundown house with decades-old Christmas lights. The strings of big bulbs were the only outside decoration, although I had noticed a couple of neon beer signs through the window when we’d been standing out front. Hadn’t seen a single customer in the place, but maybe they were in the back room playing cards. I doubted this was a place Jackson hung out when he was off duty, which made me wonder why he’d picked the place. The three of us would stick out like a sore thumb. Not only were we the wrong color for this part of town, we looked like we were gathered for something official, and folks who hang out in these kind of bars aren’t partial to the official. Guess it was a good thing no one else was here tonight.
I looked across the field. Cash was no longer conducting business, but he was very interested in something moving through the brush, and he’d wandered pretty far off to find it. Probably a rabbit or a possum. Something likely to bite his nose if he caught it. I walked to the edge of the tall grass and whistled. He better come running because I wasn’t about to wade in to get him.
Damn dog. He acknowledged my call with a few soft yowls, but he kept his nose to the ground and refused to come. From where I was standing, I could see a portion of the front parking lot. Nancy was standing next to Jackson’s truck and he leaned against the cab. Her arms were moving wildly, but I was too far away to hear what she was saying. I hoped she was almost done because I was ready to leave whether she was or not.
“Cash, get your ass over here right now.”
I got a look, a whine, and a yip before he went back to his role as bloodhound. He seemed way too confident that I wasn’t going to leave him. What he didn’t know was that the chances of that were higher than me going out into that field and getting bit by a rabid raccoon or possum. Freaking dog.
I waved at Nancy to signal I was about done. When I finally caught her attention, she waved back and a loud pop accented the gesture.
That was weird, was the only thought I registered until I saw blood fan out across her chest. Her outstretched arm, the one that had been pointed toward me, was the last thing to hit the ground. Behind her, Jackson yelled something at me, but I couldn’t make out the words. He emphasized the point with his own waving arms, but all I could think was don’t do that, man, didn’t you see what just happened to her when she pointed my way? As if he heard me, he stopped waving, grabbed Nancy’s prone body, and started to drag her off behind his truck.
In the midst of continued gunfire, Cash’s voice rang loud, and I dropped to the ground and turned, finally registering that whatever was happening in front of me, was coming from behind and over toward where Cash had been exploring. Two guys with guns were running away through the field, in the opposite direction of the bar, but only one was getting anywhere since the other had a Husky attached to his arm. The endearing sounds Cash usually made had turned into ferocious snarls as he gnawed on one of the gunmen’s arms. I pulled out my long Colt and fired it once in the air. The noise froze both of them, and before Cash could resume his meal, the guy took off running after his friend. Cash looked at me and barked as if asking whether he should follow.
“Stay, Cash. Stay.” I motioned for him to come to me and then fired another shot to encourage the guys to keep going in the direction they were headed. I wanted to go after them, but Nancy was down. Last time I’d left an injured cop to chase a bad guy, the cop had died. I only hesitated a second before running over to Jackson’s truck.
Nancy was sitting up against the right rear wheel—definitely a good sign. Jackson was lying flat on his face, blood spreading out on the ground around him—definitely not a good sign. I shot a look at Nancy and she held up her phone. “I already called it in. See if you can turn him over. They got me in the shoulder. I can’t move him.”
I holstered my gun and used both hands to roll Jackson, nice and easy, while looking for the entry wound. It was in his chest and he was barely breathing. I tore off one of his sleeves and pressed it against the wound. All we could do now was hope the paramedics got here quick. I turned back to Nancy. “You okay?”
“I think it just grazed me. I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t look fine. Her face was pale and her hands were clammy. She looked like she was going to pass out. I’d probably looked that way the first time I’d been shot. A few times later, I knew what to expect. It hurt like hell and I felt like I was going to die, but I never did.
I looked at the doors to the bar. Something was bugging me, and I scanned the porch trying to figure it out. Nothing, no one. Everything looked exactly the same as it had when we’d arrived. Deserted. I had a feeling no one was playing cards in the back room and the bartender who’d served Jackson was nowhere in sight. Yep, only two vehicles remained in the parking lot, Nancy’s and Jackson’s. I bet the building was empty. This whole thing reeked of a setup.
Before I had time to process the thought, three black and whites roared into the dirt parking lot, sirens and lights full on. I got to my knees and put my hands in the air, bracing for the treatment to follow. Nancy’s officer down call would bring the full force of DPD down on whoever had committed this crime, and right now, they were going to focus on the armed civilian who didn’t have a gunshot wound as the likely suspect. Thankfully, Nancy was conscious or I would be facin
g a grueling interrogation. As it was, the questions would come, but at least I wouldn’t be the focus. I’d been booked in as a murder suspect before, and it wasn’t an experience I wanted to relive. Probably not a coincidence that the time before had been while working a case with Ronnie. Jess was right. The woman was trouble, and I planned to lose her as soon as I got through this.
Just before the officers opened their doors, I leaned over to Cash whose head was stretched across Jackson’s thigh and said, “Stay down. No matter what.” His yip was muted, and he hunkered down while I turned back to face what I knew would be a very long night.
Chapter Nine
“Talk to Detective Walters. She’ll tell you what you want to know.”
We were on hour three, and I was getting cranky. I couldn’t remember my last meal, and I had no idea where they’d taken Cash when they’d escorted me to this interrogation room at police headquarters. Some detective I didn’t know with a shiny bald head had asked me to repeat my story about fifty times, and his anger escalated each time I relayed the facts. I didn’t have a clue what Nancy or Jackson—if he was alive—would say, so I kept the details to a bare minimum to accommodate variations. And I sure wasn’t about to ask about the dog. If they thought I cared about the dog, it would give them a wedge.
I’d expected a grilling, but I hadn’t thought it would take this long for them to sort out that I wasn’t involved in whatever had gone down. I attributed part of the problem to Nancy being at the hospital getting stitched up and Jackson being in no condition to talk about anything.
“We want to hear your side of the story.”
“I don’t have a side.”
He turned and nodded at an invisible friend. “She doesn’t have a side. That’s convenient. So you just happened to be at this nightclub where a couple of cops get shot up and you don’t have a scratch?”
I wanted to make fun of his calling the dilapidated Lucky Seven a nightclub, but instead I shrugged and then pretended like I was fascinated by something on the floor. I was done talking. If this kept up much longer, I was calling a lawyer. I mentally cycled through my contacts and quickly realized the last time I needed a lawyer Ronnie had filled the bill. She’d be the logical choice this time since she’d gotten me into this mess. She owed me. But if I called her and she helped me out, we’d be back to even. No, I’d call Hardin if things dragged out. He’d know someone who could help me out.
I heard the door open, but I didn’t look up. Apathy was my new best friend.
Until I heard her voice.
“Luca Bennett. I knew you’d be back. Couldn’t make it as a cop, so you decided to take a few down instead?”
I couldn’t help it. I looked up into the eyes of my nemesis, shooting her what I hoped was a strong you don’t scare me look. Teresa Perez was a bitch on a good day, and she rarely had good days, especially not when I was around. We hadn’t gotten along since the day we’d first met. She’d been Jess’s mentor on the force, and I figured she always wondered what Jess saw in me. Last year when Ronnie hired me on a case that placed me at a murder scene with a dead stripper, Teresa had been certain I was up to no good. When she couldn’t pin it on me, it only fueled her constantly brewing anger. What had happened tonight was likely to make her explode, especially if she learned why we were at the Lucky Seven to begin with.
“Come on, Luca. I thought you liked Walters. Why’d you go and get her shot? Or do you just like getting all your women shot? Is that it?”
I gripped the edge of my chair with both hands and resisted fighting back. I knew she was referring to Jess. A few weeks ago, she’d taken a bullet meant for me after I stirred a hornet’s nest to life. I knew Jess well enough to know she figured she was just doing her job, but if I hadn’t gone off half-cocked, she wouldn’t have had to race in to save me. Perez probably compared what had happened with Jess to the death of Larry Brewster, and maybe she wasn’t far off the mark. I’d left him to go after the shooter, and Perez was convinced that if I’d obeyed orders to stay put and wait for backup, he’d still be alive. The doctors said it wasn’t true, but I still felt a trace of doubt. I was the trouble spreading harm to the people around me.
I shook my head to get Perez’s venom out. Maybe I was the bad seed, the evil center to a vortex that whirled the unlucky souls around me into harm’s way, but I wasn’t about to admit it to her. I faced her square and spoke the only words she was going to hear from me tonight. “Book me or let me go.”
*
“Get in.”
Jess didn’t wait for me to respond before she got behind the wheel of her car. I squinted at the sunlight reflected off the chrome. What a way to spend the morning.
After I’d repeated my mantra of “I’m not talking” to Perez for the fourth time, she and Detective Baldy left me in the interrogation room for another couple of hours. Occasionally, a uniformed officer poked his head in and looked me up and down and then stepped back out. Once, he brought me a cup of water that I stubbornly refused to drink. Finally, Detective Baldy cut me loose without so much as a “take care.” When I walked outside and saw Jess waiting, I knew the reason for the curt release.
I stared at Jess’s car. I didn’t have a lot of options for a ride since my Bronco was back at my apartment. I climbed in the passenger side and barely had the door shut before Jess slammed the gas. Jess shot me a look that said we had some talking to do, but after a night of no sleep and no food, I wasn’t in the mood. I leaned back in my seat and shut my eyes, wishing for a nap on the way to wherever she planned to take me.
Before I could count ten sheep, I felt the car slow and then stop. Coffee? Donuts? I opened my eyes and struggled to focus on the building in front of me. We were in the parking lot of the SPCA. “What the hell?”
“They dropped your dog here.” Jess didn’t wait for a response before getting out of the car, and I finally realized she expected me to follow. As we approached the doors, I pointed to numbers painted on the door. “They’re closed.”
And that was good, right? I’d planned to take the dog to the shelter, and last night was proof I didn’t need complications in my life. If we picked up the dog, I’d have to walk him and feed him before I could do anything I wanted. I turned to walk away, but Jess walked around to the back of the building. A couple of seconds later, she shouted for me to follow. When I found her, she stood next to an open door and a baby butch dressed in scrubs.
“They have a twenty-four hour emergency clinic,” Jess offered, as if that would explain why we were here.
My apathy about Cash disappeared, replaced by anger. “Did those assholes hurt him?”
Jess and the butch both wore confused expressions, but I persisted. “He was fine when the cops got there. If they hurt him, I’ll…”
I didn’t know what I’d do, and I wasn’t sure why I cared so much. But I did. I started to push past them, but Jess grabbed my arm.
“Hold up. He’s fine. I just meant, we can get in this way. You know, because the clinic’s open even though the adoption desk doesn’t open until later.”
“Okay.” I calmed down and tried to breath through the word “adoption.” “What’s the drill?”
Jess pulled out her badge and showed it to the child dressed like a doctor. “Her dog”―she pointed at me―“was brought in by mistake. We need to pick him up.”
Butch junior glanced between us, no doubt wondering why Jess was hanging out with the likes of me. I didn’t need a mirror to know that I was wrinkled, dirty, and smelled like a Dumpster. Jess, on the other hand, was fresh, pressed, and wore a touch of that musky cologne that turned me on. Judging by the lingering look, it turned the child on too. I waved a hand in front of her face to break the spell. “Hello, my dog?”
She reluctantly tore her gaze away from Jess and motioned for us to follow her into the building. Jess flashed me a grin, and I knew she had noticed the baby butch salivating. I wanted to punch them both.
A minute later, we were in front of a lin
e of crates all filled with howling canines. Except one. Cash sat up when we walked over, but didn’t say a word. I know I hadn’t known him long, but his silence was totally out of character. I nodded and he stood up. Still not a word.
“Something’s wrong. Have you checked him out? Made sure he’s not hurt?” My questions were directed at the baby butch, but I couldn’t help but notice the odd expression on Jess’s face in response to my interrogation. What? She thought I didn’t give a shit about the dog? I may be a jerk, but I wasn’t heartless. Did she really think I was heartless?
Maybe she did. Maybe she had good reason. I couldn’t process that right now. All I wanted was to go home, crawl in bed, and pretend I’d never met Ronnie Moreno.
“Oh shit.” Thinking her name triggered my memory. I was supposed to meet Jorge this morning. At the lake. The clock on the wall told me I had about forty-five minutes to deal with the dog, lose Jess, get my car, and get to the meeting. Likely impossible and I should blow it off, but after what had happened last night, I was personally invested. Nancy was a good person, and even though I hadn’t been the direct cause, I felt guilty about her getting shot.
“Do you want the dog or not?”
Jess tapped a finger against the crate and waited for my response. I could tell she’d misinterpreted my cussing to be about the dog, and that was good. She didn’t need to know anything more about what else I was up to. That there was any question I was going to take Cash home showed she still didn’t think I had it in me to take care of anything other than myself. “Of course. He’s my dog.”
Fifteen very long minutes later, Cash and I climbed into Jess’s car. She turned the key in the ignition. “You want breakfast? We could stop at Fuel City, grab some tacos.”
“Actually, if you could just take me home, that would be great. Then you could go on with your day and all…” I left my voice trail off, and I looked out the window to avoid her scrutiny. Didn’t work.