A Mended Man (The Men of Halfway House Book 4) (2 page)

Oh, God…please. I don't want to die.

Through his fuzzy vision, a glint of light reflected on the glass angel on the windowsill, like a beacon answering his plea for help. His protector. As if the one who'd given him the figurine commanded him to fight.

A surge of adrenaline jolted his body. He reached up with his good hand and firmly gripped the glass angel. With a warrior yell, he summoned every ounce of strength in his shattered body and jammed the glass figurine into the monster.

PART 1:

Surviving

Detective Aidan Calloway signed off on the last document, closed the file, and sighed. He hadn't discharged his weapon and no one had gotten hurt. Less paperwork for him and a better day for everyone in his proximity. A win all around. He could finally call it a night and head home after another painfully long day.

He threw the pen on the desk and caught his reflection in the screen of his propped up phone. He ran his fingers through his hair and scratched his chin, cringing at the growing stubble and his now disheveled dark hair. It was getting too long and he found himself brushing it out of his eyes more often than not. Maybe he should go back to the high and tight look he used to wear in the Marines. He wasn't a vain man, but he looked a bit worn, even to his own eyes. And he couldn't do this whole metrosexual-gel-hair shit to keep it all in place.

"You look fine, pretty boy. Stop fussing."

Aidan scowled. Sunny, his partner of six months, had more balls than most of the men he'd been paired with since he'd joined the force roughly six years ago. Growing up with a flower child name like Sunshine Mooney definitely forced a kid to develop one hell of a thick skin rather quickly. And good luck to the person who called her by her given name. He wouldn't openly admit it, but he had mad respect for the woman who never turned away from a challenge and never took shit from anyone. Including him. They were a perfect match and could dish out comebacks until the end of days.

"You're a real fucking comedian," he said, glaring into her chocolate-brown eyes.

She quirked a dark eyebrow. "You know, that evil, hazel-eyed glare of yours has zero effect on me."

"Calloway," Captain Harry Jameson yelled from his office across the department floor.

"Oooh, you're going to the principal's office," Sunny whispered from her desk.

"Cut it out, Sunshine," he growled, emphasizing her given name. She straightened in her seat with a smirk, having figured out early on when not to push. He stood from his corner cubicle and grabbed the file and his sport coat, hoping to quickly wrap up whatever the captain wanted and head out of the station without much delay.

Sunny opened the drawer and grabbed her keys. "I'm outta here before he decides to do a group think meeting or something."

"Don't get into too much trouble on your own this weekend." Finally, they had the weekend off after working consecutively for the last three weeks.

She cackled.

"That's attractive."

"Mock me all you want. You're the one headed into a meeting while my ass heads home into a nice, warm, comfy tub." She turned and dramatically flipped her bleached hair then waved over her shoulder as she walked away. "See you Monday!"

He dropped the folder off at the processing table and shrugged into his jacket as he headed over to his captain's office. All he wanted right now was his couch and some white noise from the TV until he passed out. He made his way down the hallway and caught another glimpse of himself in the glass of the picture hanging on the wall. It seemed reflective surfaces were on a mission to showcase just how badly he wore his exhaustion. He straightened the collar of his shirt under the jacket and finger-brushed his hair. He added another item to his weekend checklist: get a haircut.

Aidan entered the captain's office and cleared his throat.

"Shut the door," Harry said, not bothering to turn around from his perch by the window.

Aidan closed the door to his boss's office then walked over to stand behind the chair opposite his desk.

The captain finally turned around. "I wish you'd actually wear a tie to work and follow our dress code."

"I'm not wearing a fashion noose," he said, tugging the cuffs of his shirt while he maintained his spot behind the chair.

Harry shook his head and groaned. "It makes it a bit tough to enforce the code with the other detectives when you refuse to follow it." 

"When they close as many cases as I do, then I think it's fair to extend them the same courtesy."

Harry grunted and sat in his chair, gesturing toward the vacant seat. "Please sit."

Aidan internally cringed with the dimming promise of a quick escape. He pulled out the chair and crossed his legs, hoping the captain would skip the chitchat about his kids, the wife, or dog. Whatever. He just wanted to wind down and disconnect.

"I'm putting you in a group."

"Like therapy?" he said with a lopsided grin.

"Smartass. No. Although I'm sure you could benefit from that."

"What kind of group?"

"A team of detectives."

Aidan threw his head back and spread his arms dramatically. "C'mon, Harry. You know that shit never works well with me. I'm surprised Sunny's lasted this long." He looked back at his captain and lowered his brow.

Harry rubbed his temples. "That's why she's going in with you. For some reason, she doesn't want to strangle you at the end of the day so I'm not messing with that formula. I'll call her and tell her tomorrow. I figured it was easier to break it to you individually rather than have the both of you gang up on me."

"Captain—"

Harry raised a halting hand. "
They're trying something new. You guys will help with potential serial cases that have a local connection. That includes current and cold cases. Assess the situation and whether it may be linked to other jurisdictional files…work them, find leads. The team will work with the federal agencies, have access to their resources if needed and determine when the agencies need to step in. The case will get handed off or you all will close them as the intermediary working between jurisdictions."

Aidan mulled it over. Locals always bitched and moaned when the FBI came in and snatched a case from them. Ego, glory…there were tons of reasons as to why, so having a team as the go-between seemed like a viable solution to soften that transition. "I'm fine with Sunny, but you can't stick me with a group."

"Think of it as a hybrid task force. We're gathering a group of people from different divisions. You and Mooney are the two coming from homicide. It's a small group and no one's a paper-pusher. I think you'll fit right in."

"Why me?"

The captain raised a gray eyebrow. "You really have to ask me that? You're working on taking down one of the largest crime and drug rings the city has seen in over a decade, and six months ago you cracked down on a country-wide counterfeit auto parts dealer and an exotic car theft export network. You've helped contribute to the highest arrest record in the state. You've already worked with several government agencies.
With your contacts and this team, I think the group can be quite effective."

"I'm quite effective without a group."

"You are. But this will make everyone better."

"Yay team," he mumbled.

"I know this isn't your ideal situation, but I need you to play nice with others. We both know Mooney will jump at the chance. She fights the glass ceiling at every opportunity so she's not going to sit on the sideline to pacify you. I've held them off as long as I can with every kind of excuse I could think of. They don't care."

"Who's
they
?" Aidan asked, crossing his arms.

"Way above my pay grade and yours. They asked me to assemble the task force from various departments. Your name was specifically mentioned…I'm guessing because of your existing work with the agencies on our other cases. There will be certain liberties with this group and the reach is far more than the tri-county area."

Aidan uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. He glanced over to his right and spotted himself in the reflection of the silver pen holder. He reluctantly admitted his stare was a little angrier than the norm. He reached out and repositioned the cup-like object out of his line of sight. Even he couldn't stand himself sometimes.

"Manny Reyes is going to head up the task force."

Aidan shook his head and raised his hands. Manny was the most pigheaded, self-centered son of a bitch he knew—excluding, of course, the man who seemed to stare back at him from every reflective surface that day. He often served as his department's mouthpiece when the press needed a statement. When things went badly, Manny zeroed in on people's weaknesses and went in for the attack like a ravenous pit bull. No one ever knew where they stood with the man, and it was that unexpectedness that made one question their loyalty to him.

"No way. We're like oil and water. Besides, his focus is special victims. You and I agreed that's one area not up for negotiation."

The captain stacked a few folders on his desk then crossed his arms. "You're in it. Stop arguing with me on this."

"It's not going to work."

"You have that third eye and usually see things differently in cases. It's multi-jurisdictional, so the fact that you occasionally liaise with the FBI makes you a logical addition to the team. I think the team synergy will work well."

"Third eye? Team synergy? Wow, Harry. You're reaching."

The older man rubbed his balding head and winced. "I need you to bend a little here. You're the best detective I've got and I need to keep you in the field working cases. The higher-ups want you on the team. It's bad enough I have to deal with the FBI trying to steal you away from me. If you don't agree to this, you'll be relegated to desk duty."

Aidan frowned. Paperwork all day every day would be a slow death. Then again, working with Manny could be a close second.

"Try it and see how it goes. If Manny's a prick about it, we'll figure something out. Just give me a heads-up if you think you're getting close to putting a bullet in him," Harry said with a hint of a smile. "Deal?"

Aidan blew out an exasperated breath. People. They always pried too much into his business, asking questions and invading his space. Why the hell did everyone always feel the need to interfere in someone else's life? As if that wasn't enough, there was the issue of trust. Trust didn't magically appear upon assignment of a team.

He sighed heavily. "I'll give it a shot."

"No shooting, please. Just promise you'll try."

Aidan chuckled. His captain knew him well. If Aidan didn't want to do something, no one could force him. Period. He held his right fist up to his chest. "I am your humble servant, my captain."

Harry laughed. "Bullshit. Now get out of here and have a great weekend. I need you to come in all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed first thing Monday morning."

Aidan stood and made his way toward the door. "By the way," he began, looking over his shoulder before exiting, "I wouldn't leave you for the FBI. They'd
demand
the tie." He wouldn't leave his job or his captain. Not only did the man put up with his shit, he took Aidan at his word and let him do his job with the least amount of meddling possible. The captain had
earned
his trust over the years.

"Glad to know that's the only reason," Harry responded with a knowing grin.

Aidan quickly turned and exited, hiding the hint of a smile that tugged at his lips. He had a reputation to protect and quickly steeled his features. He'd try the task force. Besides, he didn't have much of a choice. Pushing papers all day was not an option. A paper cut would be certain death.

* * * *

Aidan turned on the couch and rolled onto his side, ignoring the vibrating cell phone dancing across his small living room table. 

Persistent son of a bitch.

The constant vibrating wreaked havoc on the peaceful white noise of the television station. He cracked open an eye and raised his arm to look at his wristwatch. Two in the morning. Someone was going to suffer for this.

He reached over and grabbed his cell phone, instinctively catching the picture frame before it slid off his chest and onto the floor. He held the frame protectively in one hand and looked at the phone's caller ID in the other.
No way
. His first weekend off in weeks. Why the hell was someone calling him from the precinct?

He swiped his finger across the screen. "Yeah," he croaked, incredibly thankful he had bypassed the beer the night before and opted to crash on the couch naturally.

"Detective Calloway, I'm patching through a call from the field," the dispatcher said, the line clicking then silencing.

Aidan waited—not so patiently—while the call connected.

"Detective Calloway?" the male voice said on the other end of the line.

"Who's this?" Aidan asked, needing to know exactly whose ass had to be kicked.

"This is Detective Jason Palmer. I contacted Detective Manny Reyes and briefed him on the crime scene and he urged me to contact you directly."