Broken (20 page)

Feeny hit the ground like the hundred-and-seventy-pound sack of manure he was.

It was over within a matter of seconds.

Arena blinked in astonishment.

“We’ll be happy to add assault and battery of a police officer to the list of charges,” Berg said to Feeny’s dumbstruck lawyer as she carefully smoothed down her hair and straightened her suit. “You might want to call an ambulance,” she said as she stepped back inside the station rubbing her forehead.

Fifteen minutes later, Arena walked into the room and interrupted Berg who was writing up the report for the state’s attorney that would form the case against Feeny. “That was the best thing I have ever seen. The medic thinks you ruptured one of his balls,” Arena said, grinning.

“I was aiming to lodge them in his esophagus, so that’s a bit disappointing,” she replied, still typing.

“Fuck. Remind me never to piss you off.”

“You’re just figuring that out? Were you held back a few years at school?”

Jay stalked out of his office, his eyes locked on Berg. “What am I hearing about battery of a suspect?” he asked angrily.

“It was totally self defense, Captain,” Arena replied as he jumped off the edge of Berg’s desk. “He was trying to choke her.”

Jay frowned and moved closer. “Are you okay?” Leaning down, he pulled aside her collar and checked out the red marks on her neck, some of which were already blooming into a deep purple. He pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“I’m fine.” Berg raised her hand and rubbed the welt that was forming on her forehead. “No permanent harm done. I get worse in the
dojo
.”

Among other places.

“I’d feel better if you at least went downstairs to see Dr. D and got checked out,” Jay insisted.

“Hey, guys! It’s already on YouTube!” Cheney rushed in with his phone. “There’re calling you the
Copinator
,” he said to Berg proudly.

Berg sighed.

Of course
.
Nothing’s private nowadays.

Several detectives, including Cheney and Arena, as well as Jay, crowded around the small screen, watching the short clip twice.

“That was awesome!” Cheney said in awe. “Did you see the way he hit the deck? Boom!” he shouted in glee. “They teach you how to do a headbutt like that in kung fu?” he asked Berg.

“Nope. I learned that in foster care,” Berg replied. “And I don’t do kung fu, I do karate. If I’d used that on him, he’d be dead. My
sensei
has a considerably less forgiving philosophy of ‘one punch, one kill.’ ”

Suddenly speechless, the crowd dispersed, staring at their phones intently.

“Go and see Dr. D. now,” Jay ordered Berg. “When you’re done, I need to see you both in my office.”

It was several hours before Berg and Arena made their way to Jay’s office as requested.

Jay was in the middle of a phone call and motioned for them to take a seat while he finished.

He hung up. “First, are you okay?” he asked Berg through clenched teeth.

She nodded.

“Then, what
the fuck
?”

Arena waved Jay off and started fast-talking. “Before you lose it, you should know that, in order to stay safely tucked away from his coconspirators, Feeny copped to two counts of murder for hire and gave up the hitters in Devil’s Hand. They’re being picked up now by SWAT.”

“He took a plea, of course,” Berg said. “In exchange for pleading guilty and handing over the hitters, the ASA took the death penalty off the table, dropped the charges of assaulting me, and Maroney will allow him to serve out the remainder of his life in an out-of-state federal prison under an alias for his own protection. His children will go into witness protection.”

“I don’t give a shit!” Jay bellowed. “I don’t know how you did it, or what you were thinking, but how could you? This is borderline coercion! Not to mention the gangbangers could have offed Feeny right in front of us and taken a few CPD officers with him. And what about Feeny’s kids? You just gave them a death sentence, too!”

Berg held up her hand. “To be clear, Feeny did that the second he hired those gangbangers to murder their mother. It’s a miracle he and his kids are not dead already. And we didn’t—”

“The hell you didn’t!”

“Captain!” Arena slammed his hand on Jay’s desk. “If you’ll just listen for a minute . . .”

Jay glared at Arena with such venom Berg wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if he had punched Arena in the face. With great effort, Jay bit his tongue and crossed his arms.

“As we were saying . . .” Berg cleared her throat and stared at Jay an extra beat just to make a point. “We called in a favor with an undercover in the gang—that’s who you saw out the front, not some psycho banger. If Feeny jumped to conclusions and a confession followed, then great! And if he didn’t, there would be no harm done. Besides, who cares how we did it? Feeny’s in a federal prison for the rest of his life, the hitters will get death, and the rest of the conspirators will go away for a good, long time. Just to be safe, the kids are already on their way out of the cit—”

“I care! This is not some TV cop show. We use proper police work here, not games or manipulations. We interview witnesses, examine evidence, and draw conclusions. You got impatient and lazy and you’ve put a case at risk because of it!”

“Jay, we got the job done,” Berg said. “There was every chance Feeny was going to walk, and all our leads went nowhere.”

“That’s ‘Captain O’Loughlin’ to you,” Jay snapped.

Stung, Berg fell silent.

“
Captain O’Loughlin
,” Arena drawled sarcastically. “There was no evidence! What we had was burned up when they set that car on fire. The witnesses saw nothing admissible in a court of law. Feeny hid behind his lawyers and either paid off or scared the shit out of everyone we spoke to. What would you have done? Let him go? I know that you were a hell of a detective once, but I guess that all got forgotten when you got the corner office, huh? We did what we had to do, end of story. There was a time you would’ve done the same—or is the cop who went undercover without authorization nothing but folklore?” Arena asked, referring to Jay going undercover as a trucker without the knowledge of his superiors to flush out Leigh.

“If Feeny’s lawyer gets even a hint that we tricked him, he’ll have the case thrown out faster than you can say ‘
we did what we had to do
,’ including your confession. Feeny will walk out a free man and we won’t be able to touch him!” Jay yelled.

“It’s a done deal! Signed, sealed and delivered. You’re just jealous because you didn’t think of it,” Arena said sourly.

“Give me your gun and badge and get out. You’re on suspension for a week, Arena, without pay. I’ve had enough of your shit.”

“This was my idea,
Captain O’Loughlin.
If he’s suspended, then so am I,” Berg said, handing over her gun and badge.

“Fine by me,” Jay replied.

“Want to get that beer now?” Arena asked Berg as they turned to walk out.

“Absolutely.”

“What a fuckwit,” Arena slurred after finishing his sixth beer.

They sat in a booth at Jensen’s, a popular bar in Little Italy only a few blocks away from Berg’s place.

Berg, still on her second beer, simply shrugged, unable to get the look of disgust that Jay had given them out of her head.

We did the right thing, right? Feeny had signed the deal and was in custody.

He’ll never understand your need for justice
, Leigh whispered in her ear.

Panic built in the pit of her stomach.

“I mean . . . we get a confession, the case is all neatly stitched up, and what do we get for it? A suspension, that’s what. Fucker.”

“Well, you must admit, we went about it in an unconventional way,” Berg replied, finishing her beer and ordering another.

“How else were we going to get him? We had nothing! He bought off witnesses and lawyered up. The bad guys break the rules; meanwhile, our hands are tied.”

“Amen to that.”

“Hey, did you just agree with something I said?” Arena said with wide eyes.

“I guess I did.” Berg laughed.

“So what are you going to do with your week without pay?”

The idea of a week without her job as a distraction scared the shit out of her. “No idea. You?”

“Wanna spend the week in bed? I bet we could make it go pretty pleasantly,” Arena slurred.

For a split second, Berg almost agreed. Anything was better than a week alone with her thoughts.

Then again . . .

“Not if you were the last man in the universe.”

Arena actually looked crushed at the rejection for a moment before his expression was replaced with his usual sarcasm. “Fine. I might just give our favorite witness a call. Bet she knows a few fun tricks.”

“Charming. And on that note, I’m going to take off. I’m only a few blocks north of here. See ya.” Berg stood up before her beer arrived, unable to take Arena’s company for even a single second longer. Not to mention, the beer combined with dread was making her feel nauseated.

“You can’t walk by yourself!” Arena replied, standing up abruptly and knocking over his empty beer bottles in the process.

“This again? I think my little demonstration on Feeny earlier indicated I’m quite safe walking a few blocks on my own!”

“Hell, I know that! I just need you to protect
me
.” Arena wrapped his arms around his swaying body. “It’s scary out there after dark.”

Berg couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine, come on. You can get a cab from my place.”

The walk was nearly tolerable with Arena on his best behavior. They chatted amiably about carefully neutral topics like Arena’s complicated extended family and the upcoming Memorial Day weekend.

“Hey,” Arena said as he walked. “I always thought you were a bit of an ice queen. But since becoming your partner, I actually think I
like
you now.”

“Gee, thanks,” Berg said, raising an eyebrow.

“I might take off to Hawaii for a few days. Wanna come?” Arena asked.

“No,” Berg said, irritation creeping back into her voice. “Besides, after a forced week off, neither of us will be able to afford a vacation. Not with our caseload. I’m surprised Jay—sorry,
Captain O’Loughlin
—even made it a week. He must’ve been really pissed.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m going to call in a few favors and make the suspension go away. O’Loughlin’s not the only one with contacts, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Berg asked, frowning.

Arena glanced sideways at her. “Nothing. Just talking out my ass.” His chuckle sounded forced. “So this is you?” he asked smiling a bit too bright as they finally stood outside her door.

Berg nodded and opened the door to be greeted by the adorable one hundred pounds of dog that was Jess. “Hey, boy!” she said, ruffling his coat.

Jess sniffed at Arena with disdain as he stepped past and quickly went back to his fuzzy adoration of Berg.

Arena made himself right at home, wandering off to Berg’s fridge and grabbing a couple more beers from the almost bare space. He opened them and handed one to Berg before she could object.

She took it reluctantly, wondering how she was going to get the drunk Arena out of her place before she did something stupid.

He plopped down on the sofa and put his feet up on the coffee table. “Nice place. A little cold, but still nice.”

“Thanks,” Berg said, sipping her beer by the kitchen counter. “Aren’t you supposed to be calling a cab?”

“Oh, come on. I’m your partner, and this is the first time I’ve seen your place. Please? Just come and chat with me,” he said, patting the cushion next to him.

“Look, I really need to hit the sack.” She set her beer bottle down, wandered pointedly toward the door, and opened it. “See you in a week.”