by LK Shaw
“Thanks, you as well.”
“Bye, Maisie,” he said.
She waved with one hand at the same time she pulled me harder with the other. “Bye.”
With that, I turned my back on Pablo and let my daughter lead the way to the water, but for the rest of the day, I couldn’t get him out of my mind.
Chapter 3
Getting shot was a bitch. Recovering from a gunshot wound? Even more so. Trying to minimize my still-present limp, I strode through the station house like I had every day since my return to full duty nearly a month ago.
I glanced around at the place I called my second home. All the desks were in the same spot. The dinner plate sized stain still remained on the carpet just outside the break room. My gaze landed on the familiar “out of order” sign taped to the coffeemaker. A cacophony of voices echoed as loud as always. Everything in here was exactly as it had been before I’d been shot nearly eight months ago.
Except me.
Twelve fucking years. I’d made it twelve years being a cop without ever taking a bullet.
I weaved in and out of loiterers shooting the shit and officers parked at desks taking witness statements and processing releases before finally reaching my own. The ragged chair creaked under my weight, and I let out a relieved sigh to finally be off my feet. Stretching my leg out in front of me, I shifted to get more comfortable and then tried digging into the piles of never-ending paperwork.
My mind wouldn’t focus on it though. Instead my thoughts kept drifting back to the encounter I’d had earlier today. Seeing Michele and her daughter at the rec center had been a surprise. Most definitely a pleasant one. It had taken me a moment to recognize her with her dark brown hair pulled up, but then she’d turned her head just enough in my direction. It was definitely her. My initial intent had been to just grab my towel and head to the locker room, but her name left my mouth before I could stop it.
I’d sensed the wariness in Maisie at my approach. I hadn’t been sure if it was me specifically or just a general nervousness around a stranger. Either way, I didn’t want her afraid. Ines had told me about the little girl’s infatuation with my niece, so I’d hoped to put her at ease with the mention of her. Man, that kid’s smile was enough to pull even the grumpiest person out of a bad mood.
I would have paid money to see the same smile on her mother’s face. Something told me it would have hit me just as hard, but much lower. What was it about her? I’d only met her once before, and we’d hardly spent more than ten minutes in each other’s company, but that first glance had me intrigued. Over the last couple years, I’d heard bits and pieces of her story from Ines. Michele had had a rough life, and I’d seen shadows of that pain lingering in her eyes. Those shadows had called out to me.
Not that it mattered. I had to be close to fifteen years her senior. Pushing away that depressing thought, I forced myself to focus on the stacks of reports on my desk that needed my attention. It wasn’t long before I was intent on my work.
“You look like shit, Rodriguez.” Oliver collapsed into the chair opposite me with a smart-ass grin across his face.
“That’s not what your mom said when I left her house this morning,” I volleyed back.
He slouched in his seat and kicked his heels up on the corner of my desk, crossing one ankle over the other and threading his fingers over his lap. “Look at you with the lame mom jokes. I’m sorry, how old are we again?”
“Can I help you?” Garrison was the type to easily get off topic if I didn’t reign him back in. Good cop, but far too easily distracted.
“Talked to one of my nurse friends down at Rush today. Man, the things that woman can do with her mouth should be outlawed.” He made a lewd gesture, and I grimaced.
“Please, stop. Does this have any relation to actual police work?” I griped.
“You’re no fun anymore.” Oliver gave an aggrieved sigh. “Anyway, it would seem that over the last six months, there’s been a rise in deaths related to Fentanyl overdoses. By people who don’t have a prescription, I should add. Now that Miguel Álvarez is dead and the Juarez Cartel lost its foothold in the city, the Sinaloa Cartel has slithered its way over here. They’re the biggest supplier of that lovely little narcotic.”
I glared at him. “Emilio Salazar had been trying to take over the drug trade in Chicago for nearly two years. Now he’s got it. That’s what started the whole civil war within the Juarez Cartel in the first place. Alejandro González didn’t think his uncle was taking the threat seriously enough.”
“And now they’re both dead,” Oliver pointed out.
Good riddance, too. Not only had Álvarez’s people killed Ernesto, but Ines had been permanently scarred after taking a knife across her face by his nephew. The world was a better place with the two of them burning in hell.
“I hear the Feds are still salty about losing out on the King bust. Almost eight months later, and they keep whining about it. Speaking of, how’s the leg?” he gestured with his chin.
“The doctor cleared me for duty a month ago,” I said, trying not to sound defensive.
Oliver’s arms mimicked his leg’s pose, and he stared me down. “That’s not what I asked.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve still got your back if we head into another takedown. I know how nervous they make you.” The smirk on my face felt forced, but I maintained the expression.
Oliver flipped me the finger. “Speaking of takedowns, Captain has a new task for us. One you’re not going to be excited about. Then again, considering you’ve only been back for a short time, it’s probably a good thing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He single shoulder shrugged. “There’s just been some chatter.”
I drew back. Chatter? “About?”
He didn’t meet my gaze for several seconds. Oliver wasn’t normally one to hedge. In fact, he was, more often than not, the first one to start gossiping like a schoolgirl. For him to hesitate? It wasn’t good.
“Garrison,” I growled after the extended silence became too much.
He blew out a sharp breath of air. “A couple of the guys aren’t sure if you’re ready to be back. They’re worried about you.”
My body stiffened. “That’s bullshit. What you mean is they’re not ready for me to be back. No doubt it’s Peterman leading the witch hunt.”
“Look, forget about him. He’s an asshole. Like you said, the doc cleared you.”
There was a small part of me that wondered if the guys should be concerned.
“What’s this new assignment?” I changed the subject.
His lips turned up in that smile that always made me nervous. “It’s not the thrill of danger you’re used to—I get that honor this time—but you…are now…my handler,” he announced with an idiotic amount of dramatics.
My pulse kicked up a notch, and I breathed through it. “What do you mean your handler?”
Under my desk, I cracked each of my knuckles.
“Cap sent me undercover inside Los Lobos, and he wants you to be my point of contact within the department.”
Jesus. They were the largest Hispanic gang in Chicago, and they had direct ties to the Sinaloa Cartel. “What’s the end game?” I asked.
“Los Lobos and the Spanish Serpents have always been bitter rivals. Now that Salazar has moved his operation into the city, these guys are on the verge of an all-out war, because he and Los Lobos are taking over the Fentanyl trade. Prior to the cartel’s arrival, the Serpents were the prime supplier. While gangs aren’t specifically our jurisdiction, the product they’re trafficking is. I’ll be working on bringing down Ricardo Morales.”
Shit. “Are we talking about El Diablo?”
Oliver nodded, his expression finally turning serious. “One and the same. We’re leaving Salazar to the DEA, but Cap has his eyes on Morales and Los Lobos.”
“Christ.” The breath exploded out of me. “How deep are you?”
“Not very. Yet. They’ve got me doing p
etty shit right now. Courier stuff. However, I’ve been recruited to be part of a robbery planned for tomorrow night. I keep pushing for more involvement, but not trying too hard or too quickly. Cap wanted me to wait on trying to get any deeper until I had you on board.”
“And who am I supposed to be?” I needed a cover as well, in case Morales or any other members happened to catch us meeting. Everything had to be discussed in person. No phone calls. No email exchanges. Of course we’d take precautions, but there was always the risk of being seen together.
“You, my friend, are my cousin Ángel on my mother’s side. You’ve recently crossed the border, no papers, to try and make money to send back to your beloved madre in Torreón.”
Fantastic. “And when does this new assignment start?”
Oliver pulled his feet off my desk and laid his crossed forearms, chin resting on them, atop the faded wooden surface. His smirk made me twitchy. “Today.”
He reached across my desk for a Post-it note and scribbled something on it before tossing it down in front of me, grinning. “Meet me at my temporary humble abode two days from now at eleven p.m. sharp.”
“I got it. Thursday night at eleven. I’ll be there.”
Oliver stood and came around to my side, clapping me on my shoulder. “See ya soon, cuz.”
Chapter 4
Someone cleared their throat, and my body jolted. “Sorry,” I threw the word over my shoulder, and moved forward in line.
"Can I get the sprinkle pop, mama?” Maisie asked from my side looking up at me with her father’s electric blue eyes and a pleading expression on her face. I hated to deny her since it wasn’t often that I was able to splurge on extra. Plus, she’d been doing well in her new pre-school, and I had mentioned I’d get her a special treat to celebrate. A quick check of the time said it was early enough not to spoil dinner or having her bouncing off the walls before bedtime. At least I’d hoped it was.
“Sure, baby. Ms. Nickels told me that you helped pick up all the crayons after your color time today. Thank you for being a good girl.”
“I love to color. Purple is my favorite." She swung our connected arms forward and backward.
"Mine too." We took another step to reach the counter.
"Hi there. What can I get started for you today?" The barista asked.
"Can I get a medium regular coffee with cream and sugar, a small hot chocolate with a small cup of ice, and one of those pink sprinkled cake pops, please?"
"Of course, can I get a name?"
"Michele."
I paid for our purchase and then went to find us a seat. Ines should be here soon. It had been far too long since we'd seen each other, especially with my new, inconsistent work schedule. I’d thought working out in the real world would have far more regular hours than when I’d danced at Sweet SINoritas, but that wasn’t even close to being the case.
It was the double shifts that were killing me, and I found myself working them more often than not trying to save money. Except, with the extra cost of paying for a sitter, I wasn’t sure the long hours were even worth it.
The barista called my name, and I hurried to get our drinks, my eyes frequently darting back to Maisie, even though she wasn’t more than ten feet from me. No sooner did I return to our table than Ines came scurrying across the coffee shop with a wave, her other arm weighted down by a baby carrier.
"Hey, I hope I'm not late. Who knew babies needed so much shi—stuff?” she quickly corrected after a glance in Maisie's direction. She pulled me into a one-armed hug and then turned to my daughter who'd jumped out of her seat to peer down at Zoey.
"Hey ya, Maisie May."
"Hi, Miss Ines," she answered, not taking her eyes off the baby. She was completely infatuated with the infant.
"Sorry," I said with a laugh. "You're second string now."
“I've gotten used to it,” she said with a shrug. “Everywhere I go with her she gets all the attention. It's a good thing I love her, because she's killer on the ego."
"Tell me about it. Come, sit down. What do you want?" I asked.
Ines put the carrier on the seat next to Maisie. “I can go get it."
I waved her back. "You can get it next time. What do you want?"
She narrowed her eyes at me in playful annoyance, but I only smiled. "Fine. I'll take a small caramel macchiato, please. I should probably get decaf, but I'm splurging today."
"Eh, live a little," I winked at her and left her with my baby-obsessed child. Ines adored Maisie. She’d extended the offer to babysit multiple times if I ever wanted to go out on a date sometime, but I'd always turned her down. For starters, no one was knocking down my door to go on a date.
The only place I’d ever gone without Maisie was Sweet SINoritas, and the clientele there was hardly dating material. Two years ago, it was owned by a cartel leader, Miguel Álvarez. After it was seized, shut down, and then reopened under a new owner, most of the clientele were married men in their sixties who were unhappy at home or trying to relive their youth. Not that I was dancing there anymore.
Second, I was extremely careful about who I brought around my daughter. Especially after Jonas. I shuddered thinking about him. I picked up Ines’ order and headed back to the table where Maisie was playing a rousing game of peek-a-boo with Zoey. I smiled at their laughter.
After setting the drink in front of Ines, I took my seat next to her and added a couple ice cubes to Maisie’s hot cocoa. We’d learned the hard way how hot it actually was. Although it was probably pointless considering it would be cold by the time she got around to drinking it. Her focus was elsewhere. I turned back to Ines. “So, tell me what's been going on with you lately? Have you decided if you're going back to work or not?"
She took a sip of her drink. “I still haven't made up my mind. Brody says we'll be okay if I don't, but I miss it."
That didn’t surprise me. Ines loved being a cop. Her entire family—her brothers, her father, her father's father—are and were, all cops. It's the only thing she'd ever wanted to be. It was in her blood. I couldn't blame her for missing it.
“I know your career meant a lot to you,” I said.
I tried to imagine missing something that bad. Until two months ago, the only job I'd ever had was as a stripper. It had been the one thing, as a seventeen-year-old high school drop out with a fake ID, that I'd been qualified for. I loved the money I made, that was for sure. I’d earned enough to put myself through nursing school, pay for a sitter, and put a roof over my daughter's head. It would be a lie to say I didn't miss that part of it.
I hadn’t loved taking off my clothes for strangers, putting up with the occasional groping, and certainly not the catty bitches I danced with. Well the few catty bitches anyway. I'd made a couple of close friends, and I did miss them. Mostly though, I missed the money.
“I don’t have to make a decision today.” She tried to shrug it off. “What about you? I can't believe you've finally gotten out of the club. I feel like you're all grown up now." She practically cooed the last part. Not that Ines was wrong. Here I was, on the edge of turning twenty and just starting my first job in the real world.
My eyes danced over to check on Maisie, who was still busy having a one-sided conversation with Zoey about the field trip her preschool had taken to the library yesterday.
"Very funny. It's...different, that's for sure. Well, mostly different. I'm still dealing with the occasional grabby hands," I chuckled. "But for the most part, the residents are great. Who'd have thought that one day I'd be a nurse? I’ve still got a ways to go until I get my Bachelor’s, but at least I’m out of SINoritas. Man, if my parents could see me now,” I mused.
They'd be horrified actually. I was never meant to be the hired help, which is exactly what they considered a caretaker to be.
Doctor.
Lawyer.
CEO of some Fortune 500 company.
Trophy wife.
My parents would have taken any of the above. Preferably the last. All
the things I could have been. All the things I should have been. If only I hadn’t gotten knocked up at fifteen.
“I’m so happy that things are going well for you. You’ve worked so hard these last three years, going to school and taking care of Maisie. If anyone deserves good things in life, it’s you.” She reached over and squeezed my hand. I had to swallow the lump in my throat. Life was a daily struggle, and had been for years, so to hear her praise made me feel a little better.
“Thank you. I appreciate you saying that.”
Just then, Zoey started to fuss. Maisie blinked a few times and her lips turned down. She looked like she was about to burst into tears right alongside the baby. Ines scooped her daughter up out of the carrier, and while she adjusted her shirt and pulled out a nursing blanket, I turned to my daughter.
"Here, eat your sprinkle pop, baby, and drink your cocoa before it gets any colder.”
"Sorry," Ines said once she’d started nursing and the baby settled. “I meant what I said though. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished. Anyway”—she patted the table—“tell me about the new place? Any problems? I know you’re an adult and have been on your own a long time, but I worry about you two. Especially in that neighborhood.”
Ines wasn’t the only one. It made me a little nervous as well, but I’d needed something central to my work, Maisie’s preschool, and her sitter’s house that was actually in my price range.
“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not West Loop or anything, but it’s convenient.” I paused, debating on whether I should mention it or not, because knowing her, she was going to mother hen me to death. Before I could change my mind, I blurted it out. “There is this guy, though.”
Ines perked up, a sly smile on her face. “A guy? Tell me more.”
My nose wrinkled, and I shook my head. “No, definitely not that kind.”
She straightened in her seat, her gaze locked on me. “I don’t like that look. Is everything okay? You're not in trouble, are you?"