Debra Burroughs - Paradise Valley 04.5 - The Color of Lies (2 page)

Gazing at her, Colin’s mind couldn’t help but recall Miranda again. He had sat beside her, holding her hand too, as she’d slipped away from him.

I can’t do this again.
He wiped a tear that escaped down his cheek.

“She isn’t Miranda,” Ernie said softly, appearing to read Colin’s mind.

Not taking his eyes off Emily, Colin nodded. “I know.”

“I was already living in Paradise Valley when you and Miranda got engaged. I never knew how you two met. I know it was in San Francisco, but beyond that…”

He turned and looked at Ernie with a slight frown, wondering why he would bring that up.

“Why don’t you tell me about Miranda? It might take your mind off Emily for a while.”

Colin looked back at Emily and thought about it for a long moment, then his gaze returned to his friend, who was sitting on the edge of his chair, waiting.

Ernie meant well, and maybe he was right. Reluctantly, he agreed.

Slowly, Colin’s gaze floated down to Emily’s hand wrapped in his, as he thought back to the night he and Miranda met. “Late one night, I was leaving one of my favorite haunts where I often met up with some of the guys from the precinct after work. As I walked to my car, I noticed a young woman trying to change a flat tire. She was struggling with the jack.”

He paused and smiled to himself at the thought. Then he let the memory envelop him as he told Ernie the rest of the story.

~*~

“Need some help?” Colin asked.

The woman spun around to face him, her long dark hair floating around her shoulders. Colin noticed her deep brown eyes right away, sparkling in the light of the street lamp.

“Do I know you?” she asked, taking a step back.

“No, I just thought I could help. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a cop.”

“Well then, Officer, you should know better than to walk up behind a girl on a dark street in this city.”

“It’s Detective.” She was pretty and all, but if she was going to give him grief, he might as well keep walking. “Do you want my help or not?”

She held the jack out to him. “I can’t seem to get this stupid thing to work right.”

He took it from her and quickly got her tire changed.

As soon as he was finished, she opened the door and began to climb into her car. “Thank you,” she said with a little wave.

“Hey!” Colin marched up to the open car door. “Would you like to go for coffee some time?”

“I don’t date cops,” she said over her shoulder as she started her engine.

“At least give me your name.”

“Miranda.” She shut her door and drove off.

~*~

Early the next morning, as Colin stepped out of the shower, his phone began to trill on the counter. It was his partner, Charlie Spencer, calling. He had a just gotten a tip from one of his confidential informants that a murder suspect, a known drug dealer they had been searching for, was at a certain apartment building at the moment. If they had any chance of sneaking up on him, they had to go now.

Colin met his partner almost a block away, hoping for the element of surprise.

“Are you sure Antonio is in there?” Colin asked, tilting his head toward the old four-story stucco building.

“I trust my CI. He knows if he burns me he’s toast.” Charlie smoothed back his slick, black hair. He had been a detective several years longer than Colin had, and he had built a network of informants around the city. He walked with a cocky swagger and turned the air blue sometimes, but Colin knew this man had his back.

Inside the building, they cautiously climbed the stairs to the third floor, guns drawn, and found the apartment number the CI had given. Charlie knocked and shouted, “SFPD! Open up!”

Sounds of frenetic movement inside the apartment told the detectives they had better move fast.

“We don’t have a search warrant,” Colin said.

“Did you hear that?” Charlie asked, nodding his head toward the door.

“Hear what?”

His mouth quirked into a sideways smile. “It sounded like someone calling for help.” With that Charlie leaned back and kicked the door open.

Once inside, the apartment went quiet. They moved from room to room, searching for anyone, with no luck until Charlie went into the bedroom. A woman cowered in the bed, sheets and blankets pulled up around her.

“Where’s Antonio?” Charlie demanded.

“He’s not here,” she said, pulling the blankets tighter.

Charlie and Colin glanced around, checked the closet and the bathroom, then backed out of the room, regrouping by the front door.

“If he’s not here, what was all that noise?” Colin asked.

The sound of scurrying in the bedroom drew their attention.

Charlie ran back toward the bedroom. “He’s out the window, going down the fire escape!”

“You follow him down, I’ll go out front.” Colin fled the apartment and flew down the stairs. As he ran out the front entrance to the building, he saw their suspect come out of the alley between the buildings and race down the street.

Colin took off in foot pursuit, his gun lowered to his side as he ran. “SFPD! Stop or I’ll shoot!” he called out, but the man kept going. He chased the suspect for a couple of blocks when a police cruiser, sirens blaring, abruptly stopped in front of Colin, cutting him off from his suspect.

The two officers jumped out of their car, a male and a female, and drew their weapons on Colin from behind the protection of the car doors. “Drop the gun!” the male officer ordered.

“I’m a cop, you idiots!” Colin screeched. He looked down the street. The perp was gone. It was too late to do anything about it. What else could he do but set his gun on the ground and raise his hands.

“Against the wall!” the female officer ordered as she approached, her weapon still pointed at him.

Colin turned and put his hands on the wall. “Did you hear what I said? I’m a cop, and you two geniuses just let my murder suspect get away!”

When she began to pat Colin down, he told her she’d find his shield clipped on his belt. As she was reaching around him, Charlie ran up to them, holstering his gun as he approached, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m Detective Charlie Spencer,” he said, breathing hard, holding out the gold shield that hung on a chain around his neck, “and this is Detective Colin Andrews. Let him up.”

Charlie turned his attention to Colin. “Where’s Antonio?”

Colin pushed off from the wall and spun around. “These rookies got in the middle of my catching him.”

“Sorry, Detectives,” the male officer said, putting his firearm away. “We got a report there was someone chasing a man with a gun. In this neighborhood, that usually means some kind of drug deal gone wrong.”

“Do I look like a drug dealer?” Colin asked angrily, flapping one side of his open leather jacket and smoothing his tie. “Really?”

“You never know these days,” the female officer said, holstering her gun.

“Hey, I know you.” Colin’s eyes narrowed as he frowned at the female officer. “You’re the girl from last night. Miranda, right?” The hair was different, pulled back into a low bun below her hat, but the deep brown eyes and full lips were the same.

“Girl from last night?” Charlie mused, raising his eyebrows up and down.

“Good memory, Detective.” Her gaze lingered on Colin’s for a moment. “Well, we’d better let you two get back to work. Sorry for the mix up.” She and her partner turned and climbed back into their cruiser, leaving Colin and Charlie frustrated with the way things had turned out.

“That woman has an attitude on her,” Charlie said, “but she’s a looker.”

Chapter 3

The next morning, in the briefing room at the beginning of the shift change, Charlie and Colin stood in the back of the room, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. The room was crowded and noisy with uniformed officers sitting at the rows of tables, a few standing along the sides, making notes of anything new the Watch Commander had to announce.

The Commander waved his arms, signaling everyone to quiet down. “I’d like to have you meet a couple of new officers in our precinct, Miranda Cruz and Arnell Humphries.” He asked them to stand. “Arnell transferred in from Oakland, and Miranda is a rookie, just finished her training at the academy. So, make both of these guys feel welcome,” the Commander said, clapping his hands.

The room followed his lead and broke out with applause as the two took their seats.

Charlie leaned over to Colin. “Maybe I’ll get her number.”

“Go for it, tiger,” Colin replied smugly—the girl didn’t date cops, let Charlie find that out the hard way. Colin did. He chuckled quietly.

The meeting concluded and Miranda twisted out of her chair. Colin stared at her from the back of the room and their eyes met. His gaze locked on hers for a couple of seconds until she looked away and walked out. Was there a spark of interest there? Maybe not dating cops was more a
suggestion
than a rule.

~*~

“So that’s how it happened, huh?” Ernie gave a little smile. “It’s hard to resist a pretty face in a uniform.”

“Guess it was.” Colin looked down at Emily, her own pretty face so battered and distorted. “This one never wore a uniform.”

“True…but my guess is she has the same fire in her eyes Miranda did. And she does carry a gun.”

“True on both counts, Ernie, only Emily’s a little softer, sweeter.” Colin’s voice faltered.

“Did you work any cases with Miranda?”

“A few.”

“Tell me about ‘em.”

Colin’s gaze lowered as he stroked Emily’s hand, wishing she’d wake up, give him some sign she was coming out of it.

“It’ll take your mind off your worry, son. Go on, tell me.”

“All right.” Colin wiped a hand across his moist eyes. “I must be allergic to something in here.”

“Must be,” Ernie said, letting Colin off the hook for tearing up. Then, Ernie sat back in his chair and laced his fingers over his stomach. “I’m listening.”

~*~

A few weeks after he’d met Miranda, Colin and his partner needed some uniformed officers to go with them as backup to make an arrest in a gang-related murder case they were working. Miranda was one of the four officers the Captain assigned to the job.

In the crowded conference room, where those involved assembled, Colin noticed her fastening her bullet-proof vest and checking her weapon, as were the others. He announced the address where they were to meet and the precise time.

Once they were assembled outside of the rundown old house, where they had reason to believe their suspect was holed up, Colin pointed at two officers and motioned for them to go in with him and Charlie, one to stay out front, and Miranda to cover the back door in case the suspect tried to make an escape.

Colin watched her, with her gun at the ready, as she quietly moved to the back, keeping her head down as she passed a couple of windows before disappearing from his view.

Then Colin pounded on the door, announcing who they were and that they had a search warrant, demanding they open up. The sound of swift movement inside brought Charlie to the front and he kicked the door open. He and Colin ran in, the two other officers close behind.

Chasing the men down in the other rooms, scuffling with a couple of them as they resisted arrest, one of the men made it out the back door. Colin, who was in the front room at the time, heard the back door slam shut. He knew Miranda was alone out there.

He raced out the front and down the steps, heading for the rear. As he rounded the corner of the house, shots rang out.

Miranda!

One of the suspects was running toward him—a dark-skinned man in ragged jeans and a white t-shirt, shooting back at Miranda, who was scrambling to her feet. The man must have knocked her down as he flew out of the back door.

When the man who was running spun back around to face forward before reaching the sidewalk, Colin sucker punched him, then twisted the gun out of his hand. By the time Miranda reached the front of the house, Colin had the man on the ground in handcuffs.

Embarrassment colored her face.

“I only took my eyes off the back door for a second. A loud noise came from the house next door, and I turned away for just a moment. As I was turning back, the guy bolted out the back door and mowed me down.”

“You’d better keep a closer watch next time.” Colin motioned to one of the other officers to take the suspect away. “You all right, Cruz?”

Her face still appeared flushed. “I’m all right.” She brushed the dust off her uniform. “It’s the adrenaline, you know. I haven’t been shot at before.” She paused to pull in a breath. “He surprised me. It won’t happen again.”

“Are you
sure
you’re okay?” Colin asked again, sticking his finger through a bullet hole in the upper part of her sleeve. “A little to the left and it would be a whole nother story.”

Miranda looked down at her sleeve. She blinked and swallowed hard. “I guess if he’d been a better shot, I’d probably be dead.”

Colin nodded. “Probably.”

~*~

Back at the precinct, Colin took off his protective gear, and then went to the break room. He noticed Miranda pouring a cup of coffee, then grabbing a chair at one of the tables. She set her cup down and stuck her finger in the hole in her sleeve again, wiggling it around, a look of distress on her face.

“Pretty lucky today, Cruz.” Colin said, taking a seat beside her. “Maybe you should buy a lottery ticket.”

She smiled at him. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Hey, a bunch of us are going to O’Flaherty’s after work. You’re welcome to join us.”

“I’m not much of a drinker,” she said.

“Neither am I. I just like hanging out with the guys—commiserating, you know. There aren’t many people who understand what we do.”

She nodded and the corner of her mouth tugged upward.

“Have a Coke or something. It’s in your best interest to get close to this group, become one of the guys. These are the people who are going to have your back.”

“I know. It’s just hard being one of the guys,” she gestured to herself, “when you’re a girl.”

Colin grinned—he definitely hadn’t overlooked her feminine form. “I’m sure you won’t be the only female cop there. McNally and Franklin usually show up.”