“Exactly.” Terry steeples his fingers on the desk. “You know there’s a good chance this isn’t bullshit, Mak.”
So many things whirl through my head. I do not like Craig Kennedy, never have. He has his own code as far as street ethics are concerned. I was warned early in my police career to stay clear of him. That was before he made my life a nightmare whenever he was around.
He wouldn’t take no for an answer. No, I wouldn’t go out with him. No, I wouldn’t let him cop a feel, and no, I wouldn’t fuck him. I refused to date the cops I worked with is what I told him. And especially not married cops like Kennedy. Just no! When I finally threatened to go to a supervisor, he backed off and gave me the stare-down whenever he could. I’d just roll my eyes. I heard rumors from other officers that Kennedy walked a thinner blue line than the rest of us or that he often straddled it. Most of these rumors related to him getting aggressive during arrests. I stayed out of the gossip and away from Kennedy.
There are always two sides to every story and I tend to support my brothers and sisters in blue unless someone proves that I shouldn’t. Even though I don’t like Kennedy, it doesn’t mean I believe Terry. But, it makes me think.
“Lay it out for me.” My words are clipped because I’m still pissed.
Terry offers a slight smile that fades when I give him hard I-might-strangle-you eyes.
“Dixon says he wanted out and was done running drugs for Alonzo. Alonzo told Dixon it wouldn’t fly because Alonzo is no longer the main honcho and Kennedy is.” Terry’s eyes stay glued to mine as he adds, “Dixon left Alonzo refusing to take the drugs with him. Two hours later, Dixon’s picked up with meth in his pocket. He says he used a few days ago but had nothing left and that Kennedy planted the meth on him.” Terry pushes the picture of Dixon back my way. “This kid’s small and wiry, and he’s timid. He said he didn’t resist at all. Said he was walking home from his girlfriend’s apartment and Kennedy pulled up. Kennedy kicked over a few outside solar lights, beat the shit out of him, and arrested Dixon for criminal damage, resisting arrest, and drugs.”
I stare at the picture of Dixon as Terry continues. “I haven’t mentioned this because I know your blood runs blue, but there have been rumors about Kennedy for years. He has backing too. Someone big.” Terry places his hand up, palm toward me when I try to interrupt. “You don’t need to like it, agree with it, or work the case for me. I want you on it because you were an honest cop and if there is something going on, you won’t cover it up.”
He’s right, I won’t. This entire scenario doesn’t make sense, though. “I have trouble believing Dixon’s father is footing the bill. If it were a homicide, I’d understand, but not a felony drug conviction that’ll be reduced and have drug court as a possible option. If Kennedy isn’t hurt from Dixon resisting arrest, that will be plead out too.”
Terry cracks his knuckles. “You’re right. He isn’t footing the entire bill; I’m supplementing your end of it. I know you have trouble believing this, but I have a client or two who are innocent. Kennedy put them behind bars for his own reasons that have nothing to do with the law. He’s a liar and he’s damned good at it. I’ve wanted him for a long time. And if you take this on and it’s me footing the bill, I’m hoping you’ll give me a discount.”
That earns a tight smile. “Not on your measly fucking life.” Terry knows there’s no way I’d take a penny off his bill. I decide to twist his little weasel nose a little. “From what I hear, you may be in the poor house soon anyway, so this may be my shortest case yet.”
Terry’s face turns a delightful shade of burgundy. “Fucking Brenda. She needs to keep her trap shut.”
I smile.
Terry comes off his chair a bit and leans toward me. “Mark my words, Sheila will be my wife shortly and her tantrum will be a thing of the past.”
He’s serious. Sheila must be the woman he…umm…dropped. My stomach feels queasy over the thought of anyone marrying Terry. Yuck. Honeymoon… double yuck.
During the next thirty minutes, Terry outlines everything he’s ever heard about Kennedy and tells me what he wants me to do. Nothing overt, just feeling out my contacts and keeping my ear to the street. Terry knows I collect good street information, but he doesn’t know who gives it to me and he never will.
I leave Terry’s office with a check in hand. It will cover the first week of working this new case. I arrive five minutes late for my meeting with Penny at Starbucks. She’s sitting in the back corner and waves when she sees me. I order a Frappuccino, which is usually outside my meager budget. I splurge because of the check in my wallet, and, if I don’t have coffee, I may hit the closest bar and drink hard liquor until someone sticks me in a cab. Terry and the Kennedy mess is really playing with my mind.
Penny stands when I approach. As always, she kisses my cheek and makes it seem natural. I, on the other hand, have no idea what to do every time she does this.
“You’re a godsend, honey. Harry cried all night. I had to give him painkillers and alcohol to calm him down. He was too afraid to go to the doctor and worried the goons who attacked him would come to the house and find him. As soon as the pills and booze did their job, I told him I was leaving and taking my fair share for the eight years of hell he put me through. He was fairly out of it by then, but he did mention during his foul rambling that you’re a bitch and he’s coming after us both.”
This thankfully has my new case fading into the background. “Why did you even stay the night? You should have let him suffer.”
Penny’s smile only grows. “You’re right, but for some reason, seeing his five broken fingers made me feel magnanimous. I loaded him into my car this morning and dumped him at the hospital. If he wants to talk to me after this, he can go through my attorney.”
Penny’s different than I am. I’d have kicked Harry and then stomped on him while he was down. “So what did he tell you about his, umm, accident?”
“Between crying, he said he was mugged in the underground garage after you took the pictures. He cried that you did nothing to stop the attack.”
“Did he offer an explanation for the prostitute hanging off his dick?”
She sweeps her styled blonde hair behind her shoulder. Penny is beautiful and always perfectly attired. She’s a trophy wife, and I make no judgments. Even though she married for money, no one should be stuck with Harry Dandridge for eight years.
“He told me he had a lapse in judgment. Of course, he was sniveling so much I had trouble understanding most of what he said.” She rolls her eyes.
I hand over the thumb drive. “Be sure to stay safe,” I tell her. She offers my check. I take it without glancing at the payment amount. “I hope you find someone who treats you like you deserve.”
“Oh, honey, I don’t plan on having a man in my life for a long time. Harry’s money will keep me square for years. I want a home on the beach somewhere and out of this infernal heat.”
“Go for it,” I say as we both stand up. Another cheek kiss later and I’m walking back to Sally. I turn her on to get the air flowing. It’s wonderful to actually have cold air, but I refuse to thank Moon for the luxury. I glance at Penny’s check before placing it in my wallet. She added a $1,000 tip. I haven’t been this flush… well ever. Most of my jobs come from referrals, and I have a feeling Penny won’t mind giving out my name.
I head to the bank and deposit both checks using the drive-thru. It’s been a profitable and eventful day. I’ll work out before heading out for the evening.
I don’t plan to be home for Moon’s seven o’clock pickup. He’s off limits for me, and even though I feel that bad boy pull, it’s not enough to change my mind.
I blast through my workout in record time and head back to my apartment for a quick shower. After washing my hair, lathering all my body parts, and drying myself, I take an hour to style my hair, apply makeup, and doll myself up for Fiddlers Bar and Grill. It’s located outside Sunnyslope’s Wendell district and outside the Cactus police district. It’s also where both groups of cops gather in plain clothes to unwind. I want to look my best and get a feel for what’s happening in the blue world. I park Sally in the side lot with five other vehicles and enter the dark and cool interior of the bar. After completely ignoring the sign on the door that reads: No Guns Permitted, I take a booth in the back corner. I guarantee everyone in here is carrying and not just the cops. I scout out the crowd and see only a few vaguely familiar faces. The majority of the police crowd will start drifting in shortly. I came a bit early so I could take the back booth and see who enters the bar. The cops I k
He’s certifiably crazy. Through gritted teeth, I warn, “I don’t like repeating myself and I won’t press charges if you leave. Now.” His smile disappears. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, pull your gun.” I close my eyes in frustration and then realize what I’ve done and open them again. My gun isn’t the problem; his damned guns aka ripped arms, are. No one involved in crime should have a body like Moon’s. His cologne drifts over me and I inhale deeply. Somehow he’s found that perfect match that accents his natural man-smell. Add in his blue eyes, which capture everything going on around him, and I’m having heart palpitations that have nothing to do with my apartment being broken into. I pull in another long breath to gain a small semblance of control. I’m unwilling to stand and point a damn gun at him now, and that pisses me off. He removes his cell from his pocket, backs a couple of feet away, and speaks to whoever’s on the other end. “Order for two from El Tiempo and pick
The chime of Moon’s phone stops him from answering my question. He places his glass on the small side table, twists up a bit, and takes his cell from his pocket. He checks the screen and like a teenage pro, sends a message. He looks up at me after sending it. “Alex is here with our food.” At the thought of El Tiempo, my stomach rumbles. Moon cocks an eyebrow. Hell even that’s sexy. I stand up when I hear a soft knock at my front door. “Sit. I’ll get it and bring everything over here,” he says as he heads to my door, like he owns it, and opens it for Gomez. Moon takes the food and I see Gomez peer at me over Moon’s shoulder. I can’t identify the exact look he gives me, and I tell myself that I don’t care. So what if Gomez is impressed with the way I handle myself. That and a dollar will buy me an ice-cold Slurpee. Moon closes the door with his elbow while holding the bag in one hand and a six-pack of Corona in the other. It reminds me that I was being observed inside the bar. It’s s
I stare at the dark television for ten minutes. This solves nothing. I check the sliding glass door that leads to my very small patio. It has a broken broomstick in the bottom rail so it can only slide open after removing it. The locking mechanism, which I check too, is a piece of crap. I head to the front door and lock it. I walk to my bedroom to go through my pre-sleep ritual. After a quick shower, I slip into one of my large shapeless tees. Brushing, flossing and moisturizer are next. I lie down in bed and turn off the lamp. When I close my eyes, I picture Moon—his reticent smile, his intense eyes, and his sexy as hell bod. My girl parts are ramped up and it’s all Moon’s fault. With a groan, I roll over and grab the purple wonder from the drawer beside my bed. I hit the switch and then lift and spread my knees. I place the vibration against my clit. The purple wonder twirls and vibrates, hitting the spot perfectly. I slide it through my folds and back to my clit while imagining Mo
Sweat drips down my brow and my tee is soaked. My brown BDUs are damp too. I need water, so I walk back to Sally for my water bottle. It was completely frozen when I left the apartment earlier. It’s lukewarm now. I take a healthy swallow. I search for Mama Kane for an hour, but I can’t find her. A homeless man I’m unfamiliar with tells me she’s at Veterans hospital. Her goat went with animal control. I head to the hospital and receive bad news. Someone assaulted Mama Kane and she’s in critical condition. A nurse tells me that no one has visited her and that I’m the first to ask how she’s doing. It’s so incredibly sad. As a cop, I was limited in what I could do. The homeless are considered a problem. It was my job to keep them in line. Don’t get me wrong, I helped where I could. It’s never enough, though. The nurse tells me that the cops want to know when she dies. This should make me angry, but I know it means the detectives have a suspect. If Mama Kane dies, the charges will chang
Moon has pulled me so close that his face is inches from mine. “I locked it after I opened the door so it auto locks and I don’t have a key,” I say on a slow breath. “I have a key. Christ, you smell so good,” he murmurs and runs his nose across my cheek. I would tell him the same thing, but the information about him having my key stops me cold. “You made copies of my keys?” I knew he must have, I just didn’t expect him to admit it. His hand glides down my body until he cups my ass. He ignores my question. “I just needed to see you for a moment and do this…” His lips crash down on mine. He isn’t gentle. I forget about the keys. Hell, I forget that I’m outside in my short shorts. The kiss is hungry and wet, dominating and sexual. He tastes so damn good. He backs off and runs his tongue across my lips. “I’ve fantasized for the past two nights about you, like this.” He deepens the kiss. His tongue slips around mine and I moan. He pulls me closer and presses his erection into my lower
I don’t recognize the voice right away. “Mak, please.” It’s Penny Dandridge. “What’s wrong, Penny?” I ask her softly. She sounds desperate and it helps clear my foggy thoughts. “I need you to pick me up,” she says between tears while gasping for breath. This isn’t good, and I’m rethinking a cement foundation for her soon-to-be ex-husband. “Okay, have you called the police?” “No police.” Pure distress is clear in her answer. “Don’t call them, please. I just need you to pick me up.” Well, hell. I will most likely change my mind and call the police after I discover what condition she’s in. “Are you safe?” “Ye…yes. I’m safe. I’m in Heber. At the cabin in Heber. I need, just need a ride.” “Okay,” I get up and head to my desk. “Give me your address. It’ll take about two hours to get there.” I scribble the address. “Thank you, Mak… I’m so sorry.” She hangs up. Her voice sounded incredibly sad. I, on the other hand, am pissed off. If I had my hands on Harry Dandridge right now, he’d
“Madison?” Moon asks groggily. Relief swamps me and I try not to cry. This does no good and tears of relief fall from my eyes. “I’m hurt,” is all I can manage to say and even that’s shaky. “Shh,” Moon whispers. His voice is my lifeline and I only cry harder. “Where are you?” Another round of trembling hits me. I suck air into my lungs and try to control myself enough to speak. “Between Payson and Heber…” My teeth continue to chatter and once again, I breathe. “I’m about a hundred yards down the side of the mountain.” “Jesus.” I hear movement and then my eyes jump left and right in case whoever did this has decided to come after me. “How bad are you hurt?” he finally asks. The words are filled with concern, though I can hear the suppressed anger behind them. I concentrate on Moon’s question and manage to speak coherently. “Bleeding. It’s a head wound. I went over right after the second s-turn about fifteen minutes or so outside of Payson.” His voice changes from concern to deadl