All This Time (34 page)

Chapter
Sixty-Five

“That
was interesting,” Russ states joining me in the same unmonitored room we were
in a couple of months ago. Stepping through the doorway, he hugs me around the
neck much in the same manner that he did before this case started–like a
friend. “I actually think the fucker might have real feelings for you, Sam.”

“Yeah,
he can keep them.” I back up a step, pulling away and sitting on the edge of
the administrator’s large desk in the private office. “Now are you going to
tell me what happened at Holidays? I don’t believe that Juan walked in and
pulled the trigger himself so tell me how it went down.”

“Are
you sure now is the best time for that?”

“I
have time. If you think Decks will give up everything easily to the captain
you’re delusional,” I demand. Russ grunts, but takes a seat in the large
leather chair behind the desk.

“According
to witness reports, Juan sat with Wise for a couple of minutes. The
conversation was quiet and quick. After a couple of exchanges that referenced
the lost shipment and Juan’s disappointment in the destroyed relationship he
asked Wise to relay a message to Decks and Nelson.” Russ glances away from me
and stares at the closed wood door before sighing heavily. “Everyone at the table
watched him rise from the chair, make his way over to the bar where he ordered
a drink then turned and offered a salute to the X’kapz. He downed the drink
then made his way toward the entrance where he stopped by the pool tables.
Murph and
Jerrik
, you know the new guy that replaced
me?” I nod. I’ve seen the guy, but wasn’t introduced before that fateful night.
“Well, they had been playing all night when Juan dropped a stack of quarters on
the top of the table and then just as casually, he walked out the front door.
The two guys they were playing, one was a white guy –” I interrupt remembering
the men.

“Yeah,
I watched them play one game. The white guy was around forty with thin brown
hair sprinkled with gray. He was dressed down in jeans, a black Gentleman Jack
tee-shirt and a soft black leather coat, which he kept on the whole time.” Russ
nods and I continue with my descriptions. “The other guy was black and dressed
nice. Well, he was dressed like everyone else unlike his tablemate. He was
wearing khaki pants and a white button down shirt with a brown tie and matching
loafers. He was in his early thirties. Oh, and on his left hand he had a
college ring,” I pause trying to visualize the insignia on top of the stone.
“It was Texas
A&M
.”

He
bobs his head, his eyes fixated on the top of the desk. “They were the
shooters. After the silent exchange from Juan, they placed their pool sticks on
top of the table and walked over to Wise’s table. While the black guy turned to
face the dance floor, leaving his back to Wise and Natalie, the white guy
lifted the gun to the side of Wise’s head.”

“Damn,”
I whisper lowering my eyes and feeling the hot tears burning a trail down my
cheeks. “The crowd would have suspected more Hispanics, but no one thought twice
about those two guys because they basically blended in with everyone else.”

“And
no one reacted initially because they were shocked the fuck out. Naturally, no
one witnessed a damn thing except...” Russ scrubs his hands over his face and
then leans forward, placing them palm down on the thighs. “Natalie watched the
whole exchange and gave her testimony that night. She was a good cop’s wife.”

“She
knew what he was?” I ask incredulously, clearly shocked that Natalie hadn’t
spilled Wise’s real job to me. I just can’t believe she didn’t spill it all the
day we were out shopping, when she told me about his previous plans of becoming
a cop. She really was a good cop’s wife for withholding all of that
information.

“Yeah,
he was undercover for a long time. What we thought was an investigation for
only a year was even longer for him.” Russ eyes flick up at me, sadder now
thinking about his friend who lost his life because of this damn case and the
fucker in the room down the hall. “He was working for the Marshall’s Office.”

“So
is any good going to come from his death? What do they have? Can Decks provide
information that will get Nelson locked up for the deaths too?”

“I
hope,” is all Russ says staring at the door again.

“Okay,”
I turn glancing at the door too.

Two
hours later Captain Reebals pushes open the door with a strange glint in his
eyes before nodding once.
It’s done
. I let out a loud breath and stand.
Russ and I follow him back into the small interrogation room where Decks sits
slumped forward, elbows on his knees and head resting in his hand.

“Angel,”
he breathes sitting up straight and glancing at me with a weak smile that falls
instantly when his eyes shift to the man standing behind me, “Rad?”

“No
Decks, my name is Sergeant Russ Daniels,” Russ corrects walking in behind me
and shutting the door. The confused look on Decks face morphs to understanding
and he nods before glancing over at me again.

“What
now?”
Decks asks
heaving a loud sigh.

With
my eyes downcast, I can feel the three men watch me as I prop on the wall
across from Decks. Inhaling deeply, I cross my arms over my chest and pierce
him with a serious stare.
“Now?”
Decks watches me
closely for a moment then bobs his head slowly, wringing his hands together.
“Decks, my name
isn’t
Angel Johnson.” I pause, letting
that sink in before divulging the rest. His eyebrow pinch in, but his eyes stay
latched onto mine. “I’m Detective Samantha Walker with the Atlanta Police
Department Drug Task Force.”

Decks
continues to watch me his emotions staying solid, completely unmoved by my
admission. I turn my head slightly gesturing toward Russ. “We really appreciate
your cooperation and I promise that we’ll do everything we can to keep you safe
until Nelson’s trial. I’m sure the captain told you that afterward you’ll be
placed in witness protection where he won’t be able to reach you.” Emotionless,
he bobs his head still staring a hole through me. “Good.”

Seeing
that Decks isn’t going to comment Captain Reebals says, “You can go.”

“Wait,”
Decks says holding a hand up as I move to leave. I glance down at him still
sitting in the chair. “It was all just a job?”

Stepping
back slightly, I slide my hands into my front pockets and tilt my head to the
side. “Decks, I know it may sound heartless, especially after…” I don’t finish
my sentence. He knows that I’m referring to his declaration of love earlier,
and I don’t want to embarrass him in front of the other men. I straighten my
spine and answer his question honestly. “Yes, it was just a job. And really,
thank you for cooperating. You’ll never know how much it means to me that you
did this.” I flick my eyes down at the signed confession that Captain Reebals
clutches in his hands.

“Great,”
Decks replies moving his gaze toward the file folder. He leans back in his
chair, bringing a hand up to his chin and rubs it while watching me with a
menacing glare. “How many fucking cops where in on this shit?” he growls. No
one answers him and from the distant look in his eyes he isn’t really expecting
a response.

Russ
holds the door open as I walk out of the room without another word between us.
Captain Reebals follows us into the hallway and grabs my arm before I can turn
down the corridor. He pulls me into a strong hug and pats my back before
releasing me completely. “Great work, Sam. Go home.” He smiles, but it doesn’t
reach his eyes. “Take some time off. I’d say you definitely earned it.” I bob
my head and glance up at Russ who catches my questioning eyes.

“Go
soak in a hot bath. I’ll pick up Kris and bring her home.” He smiles, his eyes
sparkling with renewed excitement. “We’ll meet you there in an hour.”

“Sure,
but I need a ride. I left the Jeep he bought me at his place since there was no
way in hell I was going to keep it.”

“I’ll
get dispatch to send a uniform over.” Russ says clicking his Southern
Linc
and connecting instantly with the dispatch center.
“Your ride will be here in ten minutes.”

“Alright,”
I stroll to the front door after saying goodbye to the guys. My eyes glaze over
as I step outside and see the last of the sun’s rays darken from pink to black
almost instantly. Finally, the squad car pulls up to the curb. After a quick
hello between us, Officer Serrano and I are off heading toward my house.

Other
than the random and usual radio chatter the ride home is silent. We pull up to
the double garage and I hop out, giving him a small wave before walking up to
the front door. Once inside the house I walk casually through the entry way,
glancing around the house and smiling at the comfort the familiarity brings.
I’m
home
, I sigh happily before racing up the stairs to my room.

Chapter
Sixty-Six

Wiping
the fog off the bathroom mirror, I stare into dark gray eyes and all the
memories from the past year play like a movie through my mind.

Going
in as Russ’ girlfriend

Momma

Decks,
Wise, Shane

Russ
getting busted and leaving me alone

Natalie,
Dean and Princess Simone

Moving
in with Decks

Mad
Hatter

Saving
Chelsea

Ryske

Lourdes
trying to kill me

Retaliation
from the
Hijos
and Wise dying because of Lourdes

Decks
giving up states evidence

Baltimore…
and fortune cookies

Chesapeake
Bay… and jazz music

Seaside
Island… and falling in love

My
Blues

I
lower my eyes and sigh out loud as I trail back into my bedroom. Glancing over
at the clock I note that it’s been over an hour since I left Russ downtown. He
and Kris should be home by now. I dress quickly before picking up my phone and
sending him a text. Once downstairs I make my way into the kitchen in search of
a warm drink. Reaching into the cabinet beside the refrigerator for a tumbler,
I notice a stack of notes pinned to the cork-board hanging on the side. Reading
the top one I notice my name. I unpin the stack and realize it’s a note from
Kris written today.

Hey
Sam,

I’m
working overtime at the ER. If you come home tonight I’ll be there in the
morning. Miss you like crazy!

Loves
~ K

Underneath
it is another note written last Friday. I skim over the stack and realize that
they are all notes written from Kris every Friday night since I left a year ago
telling me where she is and when she’ll be home. Smiling, I drop into a chair
at the kitchen table and read through each of them. Except for a couple of
times when she was having dinner with or sleeping over at Tate’s, or spending a
holiday with her parents, all of the messages are informing me of her being at
work. She seriously works too damn much. Ugh! Thank goodness that will change
when she gets engaged. There is no way in hell that Tate will let her work all
of the time. Remembering that I planned on taking care of her parent’s mortgage
before my accident I jog upstairs with her notes in hand and enter my bedroom
in search of my phone. I grab up my cell and begin typing an email to my
attorney while strolling into my office. A text message pops up flashing in the
middle of my screen. My feet stall, irritation boiling in my blood as I read it
and Kris’ notes flutter to the floor landing at my feet.

DECKS:
SORRY DET. CANT DO IT UR WAY. IM WITH BLUES

A
loud tone screeches for three seconds from my police radio indicating a high
priority incident is about to be dispatched on the main channel. The obtrusive
tone repeats and my heart flips knowing that a double tone means a call for
S.W.A.T.

…Dispatch
to all units, be advised hostage situation in progress at 210 Main Ave. Suspect
is a white male in his mid-thirties wearing purple thermal pants and red hooded
sweatshirt. Witness states that subject cornered several patients, nurses and a
doctor in the emergency room after producing a large knife demanding drugs.
Hospital security is standing by at the entrance to the Canton Children’s ER.

Oh
god Kris!

Disregarding
Decks message, my fingers tremble while I tap out another text to Russ again
after noticing that he never responded to mine from earlier. Taking several
deep breaths I grab up my gun and badge before rushing down to my Camaro. I jam
my foot on the gas pedal so hard that I probably busted through the floorboard,
but I don’t give a damn. Snaking my way through the subdivision at accelerated
speeds, I blast through the gate, thanking the sweet lord above that it is
partially open. But really I was preparing to rip it down with the front end if
it was closed. Trying to get my breathing and heartbeat under control, I hit
the call button on my steering wheel and dial Russ’ cell. It goes straight to
voice-mail and I scream a ton of curse words after canceling the call. The air
inside the car becomes stagnant so I drop the windows before passing two cars
in a stretch of highway that is marked with double-yellow lines and then gun
the gas rolling the speedometer over one hundred miles per hour.

The
tall illuminated Canton Children’s General Hospital building peaks over the
dark horizon and is only a half mile away from me now. I floor the gas pedal
and jerk the wheel to the right, skirting passed several patrol cars parked
against the curb leading toward the emergency room. A marked unit blocks the
entrance so I jam down on the brakes and kill the engine before jumping out of
my car. A large rowdy group is being kept over a hundred feet away from the
building, probably patients and family members. As fast as my body will move I
leap over the yellow tape, flashing my badge at the two uniformed officers
raising their hands and voices at me, demanding I stop. They shut their mouths
instantly recognizing me as one of their own, and I continue on my route
directly toward the double glass emergency room doors.

Stopping
behind one patrol car with the strobe lights popping intermittently, I spot a
familiar face and rush over to ascertain any and all updates since the call was
dispatched.

“Sam?”
Officer Serrano says noticing me as I approach.

“Hey
Spike, what’s the latest?” My eyes are locked on the glass doors standing open
fifty feet in front of me, surrounded by several uniform officers.

“One
subject armed with a knife. We have one off duty on the inside, but we don’t
know his status. There are eight small extractions in addition to the five
adult extractions. S.W.A.T is en route and will be assembling in the back
parking lot.”

Still
scanning the area while Spike gives me the updates I realize that I don’t know
the guys guarding the doors, but that’s okay, I can work with this. My priority
is getting inside quickly and finding Kris even quicker.

“Do
we have an ID on the suspect or the off-duty?”

“Off-duty
is Sergeant Daniels…” my hearing distorts while my vision blurs knowing that
the only reason Russ is inside that building is because Kris really is one of
the hostages. He wouldn’t leave her behind. I glance over at the small group of
employees congregating back behind the yellow tape just to confirm if she is
among them, but I don’t see her. “…he has a shitload of priors, mainly drugs
offenses. We’re just waiting for S.W.A.T and the mobile command to assume the
scene before we fall back.”

“Who
did you say?” I missed the name of the perpetrator while sorting through the
crowd.

“Mark
Hatfield,” he shouts before ducking back into his patrol car and answering his
ringing cell phone.

Frozen,
I stand staring at the front steps completely stupefied while fear courses
through my veins at an alarming rate. In my peripheral I spot the mobile
command RV speeding toward the back parking lot and know that I only have
precious moments before they take over, removing my only chance of getting inside.
Spinning away from Spike I dash over toward the front entryway and approach the
guy who appears to be in charge.

“Hey
guys,” I flash my badge casually and swiftly while keeping my eyes on the
doors. “S.W.A.T is moving in so you are authorized to fall back now.” I give my
voice a heavy tone of authority and then cut my eyes to the officer closest to
me when they don’t move.

“Fuck
that,” he snaps glaring suspiciously at me. “Let me see that badge again.”

Grabbing
him by the collar, I thrust my badge against his cheek and growl, “I fucking
said stand the fuck down and I won’t fucking repeat myself again…” I glance at
the name stitched on the front pocket of his dark blue polyester shirt before
shoving him away from me, “Officer Seals.”

“Angel?”
A deep voice shouts behind me while large hands clamp down on my upper arms.
Another man charges passed me and gets in the face of the officer I tossed
growling at him to take his men and move away from the doorway. My heart rate
spikes even higher when the voice behind me growls out a string of cuss words
before spinning me around. My throat constricts, seizing all of the air in my
lungs staring into a deep blue set of bloodshot eyes.

Blues

“What
the fuck are you doing here?” I yell shoving out of Blues’ unyielding embrace
and staggering backwards away from him completely lightheaded because of his
proximity.

“I
spotted you racing down the highway and–” his words halt as his eyes drift down
to my hand. “What the fuck?” he growls incredulously, glancing from my badge to
the gun on my side before stabbing me with deadly and wide eyes. “You’re a
cop!” From his shouting directly into my face, I smell the woodsy aroma of
whiskey on his breath.

“Get
the hell away from me,” I spit at him turning my back on his drunken ass and watching
the large guy still in the face of the smart ass officer. He’s also flashing
some form of identification. With each punch of his words spit flies through
his ferocious snarl while his fist pounds against Officer No-Balls bulletproof
vest.
That shit’s going to hurt.
The big guy spins around and stomps
over to me pulling a calmer, but still scary face as he approaches.
Wow, he
looks like Blues
.

“What’s
the plan?” he growls glaring between me and Blues.

“My
plan is getting the fuck inside there and his plan,” I jerk my thumb in the
direction of the pain in the ass behind me, “is getting the hell away from me,”
I growl just as loudly. I’m so pissed off at him for taking Decks away from me.

He
smirks deliberately, lifts his chin glancing over me, and then says to Blues,
“Fucking perfect brother.”