Avenged (5 page)

HALF BAKED AND ALMOST GROUNDED
looked crowded with morning traffic when Carly arrived. Part of her wanted to talk to Erika and Ned, get more information on Dean. But she didn’t want to drag them into the drama. The complaint would be resolved at intake—she believed Barrett—but it still pricked her that Barton had filed it in the first place.

She pulled into the lot behind the shop and saw Nick’s plain car. He was still in the driver’s seat, talking on his phone. Her heart raced a bit. He still did that to her. Eight years of marriage, a year of separation, and nine months of a second marriage, and he still percolated her pulse. Even the scar on his forehead, the result of a smack to the head by a bad guy, did nothing to diminish his handsomeness in her eyes. He was her
GQ
hubby.

Walking to his car, she leaned against the front fender. He held up one finger and quickly finished the call before getting out of the car.

“Hey, how’s Joe?” he asked as he closed the door, shoved his phone in his pocket, and faced her.

She folded her arms and shrugged. “Doctor said his knee is sprained and that he’s likely to be off work for a month. But he has to go to occupational health and get an MRI. Did you get anything from Trey?”

Nick shook his head. “Trey lawyered up.” He stepped forward and ran his index finger across her forearm. “Losing your partner for a month is tough, but it’s not the end of the world. What else is wrong?”

Cognizant of the fact they were in a busy parking lot, Carly swallowed, fighting frustrated tears. She told Nick about the complaint by Dean Barton. Nick leaned next to her, his hip touching hers, and listened.

“When it rains, it pours.” He took her hand and pulled her toward the shop. “Let’s go in and get something to eat. We’ll both probably think clearer about all this with some food in us.”

He smiled and she squeezed his hand, feeling slightly better and all of a sudden hungry. Now that she’d told him the bad news, excitement from the good news of the task force offer bubbled up. She’d tell him about that over breakfast.

Inside, the coffee shop was bustling. Nick took a number and placed their order while Carly found a table for two near the counter. The food would be delivered to them when
ready. She could see Londy working busily in the coffee and baked goods area and Erika doing likewise in the kitchen. Carly also saw Mary Ellen following Jinx around, apparently learning to deliver food and bus tables. Carly knew Mary Ellen had applied, but she hadn’t realized that the girl would be working so soon. Like Londy, Mary Ellen had a checkered past. She’d run away from a foster home and even committed a kidnap, snatching Joe’s son, A.J., from the hospital about a year ago. But she’d brought the baby back unharmed and later saved Carly’s life. When Carly, Joe, and his wife, Christy, went to bat for her, the justice system was lenient. She ended up staying in the juvenile justice system and not moving to adult court.

Mary Ellen had also done a lot for her own cause by buckling down and catching up on missed schoolwork. She completed her high school diploma while in state custody, completing one year’s work in four months. Now, while still on probation—the juvenile system would have jurisdiction over her until she turned twenty-five—she was a ward of her uncle, Jonah Rawlings, who also happened to be Carly and Nick’s pastor.

In spite of the crowd, their food was delivered quickly. Nick had ordered veggie omelets and large coffees for them both, plus a huge cinnamon roll to share. It was the type of meal they’d share together on a day off. Carly felt her aggravation fade with each bite.

“Why are you always right?” she asked Nick after half of her meal had disappeared.

“Hmm?” he mumbled with his mouth full.

“I do feel better, at least about the bogus complaint. But I’m so bummed about losing Joe. You know how tough it is to find someone you can work with for ten hours in a black-and-white.”

Nick swallowed and nodded. “I do. I’m sorry he got hurt. You were safe with him; he has a good head on his shoulders.”

Carly knew he meant physically safe. More than anything, a cop wanted a partner who would always have their back. Joe was that type of partner; she could trust him and they meshed. She took a few more bites of her omelet and then cut into the cinnamon roll.

“Is anyone on your watch looking for a partner?” Nick asked.

Carly shook her head, enjoying the taste of cinnamon and gooey icing. “I would have asked Kyle, but he’s retiring soon and has been taking a lot of time off.” An old-timer and a good friend, Kyle Corley wouldn’t be inclined to be a hard charger, but he wasn’t lazy, and he would back her up.

“But I did get an interesting offer.”

Nick’s eyebrows arched with curiosity as he sipped his coffee. “Yeah, what?”

She told him about Wiley’s visit. When she finished, Nick sat back in his chair, and Carly studied his face for some hint about what he was thinking.

“Hmm, that’s an awesome career opportunity. Have you looked at the information yet?”

“No, right after Wiley gave it to me, Barrett came in to
tell me about the complaint. The bad news makes me think the task force is the ticket. I got so angry after hearing about Barton’s complaint—maybe working with the feds is the change I need.”

Nick took a minute to respond, chewing thoughtfully. “You need to look over the details and be certain about everything the job requires.”

“I agree, but it almost seems like an answer to prayer.” She hated the fact that he had such a great cop face. “I know we both need to look at it. But it was you who said I need a change.”

He hiked a shoulder, but she still couldn’t read his expression. “While I agree you need a change, I don’t think you should make such a big decision just to avoid a situation in patrol you don’t want. It will be a commitment in time and energy, babe, and you need to ask yourself where you want your career to go.”

She sipped her coffee, knowing he was right but feeling irritated just the same. “You haven’t read it, and it already sounds like you don’t want me to take it.”

A hint of a frown marred his features for an instant and then was gone. “I don’t have to read it to know that this is a job that will put you on a path you’ve never said you wanted to be on. It’s a stepping stone to either move up in rank or out to a federal agency permanently. Do you want that?”

Carly sighed and pressed her fingers to her forehead, not wanting anger to rule her response. “I don’t know what I want right now. I thought I wanted to work with Joe in
patrol forever, but I know nothing lasts forever. In fact, Joe said that just the other night.”

“We’ll pray about it, then. I’m sure Agent Wiley would want you to be 100 percent certain before you decide.” He drank his coffee. “Don’t think you don’t have any options or that you have to decide too soon without considering all the variables.”

“Lately I’ve just felt like I’m spinning my wheels, working hard to put people in jail and then seeing them slither out on technicalities.”

“That’s Burke frustration. You know that’s not true with every case.”

Carly huffed. “Well, I thought I’d be in a patrol car for thirty years. It surprises me that the task force sounds so inviting.”

“It’s an honor.” His elbows were on the table, and he held his coffee in both hands. “Maybe this is a broader career nudge for you. If not in the direction of the task force, maybe it’s time to think about detectives here at home.” His thoughtful gaze held hers.

“Hmm, you might be right.”

“It’s just a thought. I know you hated juvenile, but that was an involuntary transfer. This would be your choice. If you do need a change, several details have openings. I’d think you’d want to look at all your options before making a huge leap.”

She sat back and looked toward the coffee bar, where Londy worked the espresso machine. Mary Ellen was busing
tables on her own, and the crowd had thinned. “I guess I like the idea of being challenged. A federal task force makes working in Las Playas look like working in Mayberry.”

“We’re not LA, but we’re not Mayberry. You never know—you might love working a detail like violent crimes or even homicide.” He reached across the table and gripped her hand, rubbing her palm with his thumb. “Or maybe the change you’re looking for is in a different area. Maybe we can think about starting a family.”

Carly jerked her hand away. “What?”

Nick chuckled. “Babe, you look like I just asked you to cut off your leg.”

“Maybe you did. You’re the one who always says that kids end the parents’ life.”

“It’s been a long time since I said that. And maybe one kind of life does end so a new one can start.” His eyes were warm, and Carly struggled to stir up righteous anger to flush out the fear.

She couldn’t do it. The thought of being a mother scared her to death.

Just then Mary Ellen stepped up with a bag of to-go food. “Here you go, Sergeant Anderson,” she said with a smile. “I waited until you were just about finished before putting the order in.”

“Perfect.” Nick took the bag and handed Mary Ellen some money. “I don’t need any change back from this.”

Mary Ellen blushed, thanked Nick, nodded hello to Carly, and was gone.

“Looks like she’s doing well,” Carly said, happy for the subject change.

“Yep.” Nick finished his coffee in one gulp. “I’ve got to get back. Mickey is probably cursing me in all five of the languages he speaks. Those guns opened a can of worms. The serial numbers have all been filed off. We have to call in ATF on this. They have the resources to try to raise them.”

He reached across the table and laid his hand down, palm up. After a second, Carly put her hand in his. He closed his hand around hers. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be home. Try to get some sleep.”

She nodded and squeezed, fighting the unsettled feeling in her gut. “I will. You be safe.”

He winked and left the restaurant. Carly watched him leave as she nursed her coffee. She would have left shortly after him if Dean Barton hadn’t walked in a few minutes later.

HE SAW HER AT ONCE
and smirked. There was a tall blonde at his side. Carly thought the woman looked familiar but didn’t waste time trying to figure it out. She focused like a laser beam on Barton and was on her feet without stopping to think.

“What are you doing here?”

“What’s it look like? Getting something to eat. What are you doing? Waiting to harass me again?” His gravelly tone was singsongy and taunting. He winked at the blonde.

Carly felt her face redden with anger, and she was conscious of several people turning their way to watch the confrontation. “You were told to stay away from here.”

“I’m here and I’m staying. What are you going to do
about it?” He stared at her with cold, empty eyes, the challenge there naked and obvious.

What could she do? She was off duty and there was no sign of Erika anywhere. Barton’s threat hung in the air. Carly stiffened and struggled to avoid what she knew the man wanted: a physical confrontation. The trouble was, she wanted one as well. She wanted to smash him in the face and wipe that smirk off.

“You—”

“Carly.”

She turned and saw Ned emerge from the kitchen. Taller than his brother, Ned was thinner, and he walked with a bit of a limp. Carly caught Dean’s glance at his brother and saw in it undisguised animosity, so Ned’s next words surprised her.

“It’s okay. He’s my brother; he can stay.” Ned held up his good hand and continued toward them. He never wore a prosthetic, so the handless arm hung at his beltline. His brow creased in a frown as he cast a glance at Dean, who now grinned broadly, animosity gone. “We’re working some things out,” Ned continued.

“What about what happened last night?”

Ned sighed. “Like I said, we’re working on things.”

She studied him and read a lot of things in his face but saw no level of comfort with his brother.

“Me and my lady need some food, little brother.” Dean grabbed the blonde’s hand and continued smirking at Carly.

She turned back to Ned. “All right, all right. My mistake.”
Inside, she seethed all the more, knowing that Dean Barton was trying to set her off.

“You’re a stupid cop,” Dean said, his scarred face twisted with glee. The woman laughed. “We expect stupid mistakes.” He waved a hand dismissively and turned away. “Come on, Bro, buy me breakfast.”

Ned gave Carly an apologetic nod. She knew he wasn’t happy with the situation. Something else was going on, but she wasn’t going to find out what this morning. She said good-bye and left for her car, knowing that it would be a miracle if she got any sleep today.

•••

That night, Carly slid into the squad meeting expecting she’d draw a solo car. Kyle Corley was off, and everyone else was partnered up. She figured it was just as well because she was tired and cranky. Dean Barton had gotten under her skin, and she knew she needed to rise above his taunts. To be on the safe side, she filed a short memo to Sergeant Barrett about the morning incident with the parolee.

And there was a conversation she’d had with Joe before leaving for work that nagged at her. She called to check up on him and mentioned the task force offer.

“I have to have surgery,” he said. “Pretty soon too. I’m likely to be off work at least six weeks. You just thinking about the task force, or did you accept already?”

“I’d like to go over the job description with Nick, and we haven’t had the time,” Carly said, anxiety rising because she
feared the more she read, the more she’d want the job badly and Nick would advise against.

Joe’s advice was the opposite. “Maybe you should take it,” he said. “Christy wants me to look into a detective position. She worries about me in the car. And, well, I’ve been in one for over five years. Maybe this injury is telling me I need a change. I guess I might be deserting you. But she worries about me, and she has a point—if I work days, I’ll be home with her and A.J. every night. And you have options. I’d hate to think of you turning down a plum job offer because of me.”

The conversation had left her with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach that she’d worked her last night in a patrol car with Joe. Though taking the task force offer would have meant the same thing, somehow it hit harder when it was Joe leaving first.

Was this a sign that she should accept Wiley’s offer? Or maybe it was time to move to detectives like Nick suggested. What he and Joe both said was true—she had options. She’d hated juvenile because it had been a forced transfer. If she were able to go to a detail she chose, maybe it would be different.

The idea of detectives, while not as attractive as the task force, didn’t tweak her so much now. She wouldn’t have to deal with pukes like Dean Barton in a detective detail. Or stand in skirmish lines. But then, she wouldn’t have to do that on a task force either. And the task force would be more challenging in a good way. But with a detective slot, she’d still be here in Las Playas.

Her mind was a jumble, filled with pros, cons, and all the changes available to her and the adjustments she would have to make. A new wardrobe. A new daytime schedule. A new partner. But maybe it was time. Time to think about a new career direction, maybe starting a family . . .

“Ah.” She gave an involuntary shudder and sat up straight. The officer next to her raised an eyebrow, but she just shook her head.

I cannot wrap my mind around having a kid.

“Okay, everyone listen up.” Sergeant Barrett brought the squad meeting to order and Carly’s thoughts shifted.

“The Oceans First people have been quiet today, which is good because things are tense in the field right now over the shooting. There was a no-hit drive-by on Ninth Street earlier with the suspects still outstanding. We’ve had an upsurge in fight calls with one beating of a Playboy that resulted in a broken arm. There’s also been a boatload of tagging going on. Marshall from gangs is here to update everyone on the situation.”

Fernando Marshall traded places with Barrett. He was a slim black man who’d been on the gang detail almost as long as Mickey T. Nick had told Carly that Nando, as he was called, had a lot of street smarts and a great rapport with most of the known gang members in the city.

The gang detail normally worked afternoon shift, 4 p.m. to 2 a.m. Gangs were creatures of the darkness. But in order to have coverage twenty-four hours a day, Nick had flexed everyone into three shifts. While Nick was home sleeping,
Nando was in charge. Only one sergeant and six officers staffed the gang squad, so Nick’s new schedule ensured there were at least two officers on at all times.

“Okay, here’s the update,” Nando said. Carly knew the update because her husband had told her, but she gave Nick’s colleague her undivided attention.

“We contacted ATF about the guns recovered in the Victor last night. They are more than happy to try to raise the serial numbers. If they can, we’ll be one step closer to getting to the bottom of this gang war.”

“At least all that firepower is off the streets,” someone chimed in from the back of the room, and there was a lot of murmured agreement.

Nando agreed and continued. “We need to get these kids off the street if possible, give passions a chance to cool off. If you find bangers with warrants, pick ’em up. If the banger is a minor and curfew applies, go for it. And they keep trying to set up a memorial. The crime scene has been cleared, but they can’t get through the gate to set up there. They’ve picked the Marina Access Way bridge into the Catalina Shores for the flowers and candles. We want to nip that in the bud. Stop them and send them home. If stuff is left, dispose of it. All we need is a spot where people can gather and become targets.”

Muffled conversations sprouted when Nando finished and the meeting ended. Everyone was on edge.

Carly found a car and began the preshift inspection. Working alone meant she wouldn’t be too aggressive unless she was working in conjunction with another unit. Graveyard
shift typically fielded eight to ten officers in a mixture of one- and two-officer cars for the whole city. Tonight, because of the situation, there were five two-officer cars, Carly, and the gang unit. She decided she didn’t mind being alone on this particular night. There was a lot on her mind and she wanted to think. She planned to listen to the radio and pick a pair of officers to follow around.

Right out of the gate, she heard Flanagan and Lopez on the radio requesting a female officer to assist with a search. This was the overlap time, and the afternoon units were still busy. Flanagan and Lopez were stopped on the Marina Access Way ramp, so Carly figured they had interrupted a memorial builder. She answered and made her way to the access ramp to help.

She pulled in behind the flashing ambers and activated her lights as she got out of the car. They’d stopped a beat-up Chevy, currently illuminated with their spotlights. Lopez was talking to an adult male with his hands on the hood of the black-and-white while Flanagan stood watching three individuals seated on the curb behind the unit. He nodded as Carly approached.

She looked over the threesome—two girls, probably late teens, and a boy Carly doubted was a teen yet. She almost laughed when she saw the scowl on his face. He was trying so hard to look mean, it was comical. All the individuals were dressed in Ninja gang attire, which was black everything.

“Officer Edwards, do you mind checking these young ladies for weapons?” Flanagan asked.

“Not at all.” As she stepped onto the curb, she saw the flowers, candles, and makeshift memorials on the sidewalk.

She motioned for the first girl to stand.

“I don’t got nothing,” she said in a petulant, irritated tone.

“I’d like to check that for myself. Turn around and put your hands on your head and interlace your fingers.”

The girl complied reluctantly, and Carly reached out to grip the interlaced fingers with her right hand. “Do you have anything on you that’s sharp, that might poke me?” she asked as she began the pat down.

“No.”

“No guns, knives, or hand grenades?”

That got a derisive snort, but the girl relaxed and Carly completed the pat down, finding nothing. She repeated the process with the second girl, who was a little less angry.

By the time she finished, Lopez was cuffing the adult male. After he put him in the backseat, he stepped back to confer with Flanagan and Carly. “The driver is unlicensed, and he has a couple of warrants. The rest are all curfew violations.”

Duncan Potter appeared on the other side of the bridge, snapping photos. Carly did her best to keep her back to him. He lived on a boat in the marina, and anytime she was anywhere near the marina, he appeared quickly.

Flanagan cocked his eyebrow and looked at her.

“Just ignore him,” she said.

He grinned. “We can’t mix adult bookings with juvies.”

Carly chuckled. “I don’t feel like booking all three of
them. I’ll just take them home unless you think they need to be booked.”

Both officers shook their heads. “That’s fine with us,” Lopez said. “All they were doing was making themselves targets.”

“Okay. I’ll need to borrow a set of cuffs.”

Policy said handcuffs were needed for anyone transported in the black-and-white. Most officers, like Carly, carried two sets. Flanagan offered one of his sets. She probably could have justified not handcuffing the three juveniles, but since there was only one of her and they were all wannabe gangsters, handcuffs it would be. She would file RNB paperwork on them and release them to the custody of their parents.

Flanagan gave Carly the field interview cards he’d written on the trio. The girls were sisters, so that was easy enough. But the name on the card for the boy gave her a start.

Victor Macias. He was Crusher’s little brother.

•••

After releasing the girls to a mother who couldn’t care less, Carly headed for Victor’s house. “Sorry about your brother Hector.”

Victor mumbled something she didn’t quite hear.

“What?”

“Where were the cops when he got capped? You don’t care.”

She clicked her teeth. “I know your brother, Victor, and I care. He’s a good kid caught up with bad people. We’ll catch who did this.”

The boy cursed. “Ain’t counting on you. Only his homeys care, and I’m gonna help with payback.”

“Payback won’t help your brother.”

He cursed again, this time more colorfully. “Sure it will. When he wakes up, the first thing I’ll tell him is the dudes who shot him are dead. Make him smile.”

Carly bit her tongue, surprised at the venom in the ten-year-old’s voice but not really knowing why she was surprised. He was a kid of the streets, living in the middle of a gang neighborhood. For the remainder of the ride to his house, she prayed for Victor and his brother.