LineofDuty (7 page)

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Authors: Sidney Bristol

BOOK: LineofDuty
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“I’m on it, Vant,” Cole said over the comm.

“No time, Sarge.”

The young woman twisted, broke free and flung herself from
the man.

Jake squeezed his trigger a second behind the boom of a
shotgun discharging.

The first gunman flew back as SWAT took charge of the scene.
The gunman didn’t get back up.

“Where’s patrol?” Jake asked, trying to keep a handle on his
frustration.

“They’re on a different channel, Vant,” Cole replied.

Jake swallowed his irritation and shoved the clusterfuck
aside. Since the house seemed to be under control, he turned his attention
toward the fields, sweeping for any sign of movement or fleeing suspects, but
they appeared to have taken everyone with minimal injuries, save the one downed
shooter.

“Vant,” Cole said over the com.

“Yeah?”

“Come to the house.”

Glad to get out of the truck, he closed the turret and
stowed the platform before stepping out into the cool embrace of the evening.
He jogged the forty yards to the back of the farmhouse where officers and an
EMT crew were taping off the scene.

Cole stood off to one side with a narcotics officer Jake
recognized, though he’d joined the team after Jake had left.

“Guys.” Jake nodded and directed his attention to Cole.

Cole gestured to the narc officer. “This is Officer Dewan
Tatum.”

“We want you to do a quick identification for us,” said
Tatum. He was younger, with sandy-brown hair and a no-nonsense altitude Jake
could appreciate.

“You need me to ID someone?” Jake stilled. Who would he know
that could possibly be mixed up with this business?

“This guy.” Tatum gestured to a sheet thrown over the downed
body of the first shooter. He grabbed the edge of the sheet and folded it down
to reveal a face, slack from death, eyes and mouth open.

Jake followed and peered down at the face of a middle-aged
man. Fat had created folds in his face, though he didn’t appear to be grossly
overweight. Jake breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t know any Hispanic men
that bore even a remote resemblance to the dead man.

“Who do you think he is?” Jake asked.

Tatum glanced at him, then Cole.

The pieces clicked.

“David Alvarez,” Jake said. Take off fifty pounds, give him
some stubble and longer, greasy hair and you had the pot runner himself.

“That’s who I thought it was. Won’t know until we make a
positive match,” Tatum said. They couldn’t rely on visual identification. They
had to match fingerprints, dental records, something concrete, which would be
done at the morgue.

Jake whirled to the three men. “We caught Jose Garza last
night. Now we’re given a tip that takes us to Alvarez? Something’s just not
right.” His brain whirled, internal sirens blaring a warning.

“We were hoping we could bring you in on this, get some of
your insight. We’ve never gotten as close as you did to catching the old crew.”
Tatum dusted off his hands and stood. “Look, between us, there’s a mole in
Narcotics. Whenever we know something, the bad guys are five steps ahead of us.
Someone’s tipping them off. We need to take these guys down, but figure out who
the mole is.”

Jake nodded, his mind blown. A mole? Wasn’t the first time
there’d been one.

He glanced at the body once more. One more file closed. He’d
only ever caught Diego Cruz before this, and thank God for that. The man was a
sick fuck.

* * * * *

Nicole picked through the handful of outfits hanging in the
lonely closet. Her hands kept tracing the bruise on the back of her thigh.
Between the purple blemish and the soreness between her legs, Jake had left his
mark on her. She didn’t know how she should feel about that.

If he’d pulled this act a few months ago, she’d be swooning
and thinking everything was going back to normal. Now part of her wanted to be
pissed at him for even considering he could come into this house and take her
as if nothing had ever come between them. But she couldn’t deny that a tiny
seed of hope had taken root.

Maybe their love had died and they were finding a new one.
Was that even possible?

She picked a pair of trousers, a blouse and a blazer from
her much-abbreviated wardrobe and quickly got dressed. Getting out of bed had
been a chore, but she’d managed to get a shower, fix her makeup and hair, all
while still wearing the pink silk nightie. She carefully hung the outfit,
panties and all, on a hanger and hurried out of the bedroom.

The office would be quiet today with half the staff out for
yearly training. It was a relief since her thoughts were screaming at her. She
didn’t think she could take the memories of coming so hard she’d screamed while
her desk neighbor chattered about her five cats. The two were mutually
exclusive.

Nicole stopped in the kitchen and stared at a vase of white
roses sitting on a card table in the middle of the eat-in kitchen nook.

When had Jake had time to bring her flowers?

Had he brought them to her in the middle of the night after
whatever emergency he’d been called away to?

She didn’t know, but the blooms stirred a smile from her and
that seed of hope pulsed, filling her with warm, fuzzy sensations she wasn’t
ready to name yet. He’d once brought her flowers for every occasion. A project
completed at work, birthdays, holidays, any reason at all he’d stop at a
grocery store or florist and get her a bouquet. The price had never mattered to
her, it was showing her he cared.

Nicole could remember the last bouquet he’d bought. It’d
been for the funeral they’d had for Willow. A bunch of pink roses and
carnations they’d left on the gravesite, together.

She’d missed flowers these last few months.

Maybe this was the beginning of something new.

Nicole lifted the vase and inhaled the fragrance of one
large blossom.

There was no denying that between the sex, presents and
flowers, hope was growing. Maybe a better way to look at it was that the love
for her husband hadn’t really died. It had withered and gone dormant. With just
a little attention she could feel it reviving. Was this his plan?

She put the vase down and went about gathering her breakfast
and lunch into her tote. All the while her thoughts revolved around the fact
that love wasn’t quite as dead as she’d first thought.

They’d tried to change—both of them—but nothing had worked.
Jake had walls up so high she’d been effectively shut out. Not that she’d been
in much of a state to climb the barrier. The miscarriage had taken part of her
soul. Her very being. Battering down Jake’s defenses was beyond her. But now he
was chasing her all over again.

Did she want that?

Could they have the kind of love they’d once shared?

Nicole didn’t know and there wasn’t time to dawdle before
work any longer. She scooped up her tote, purse and at the last minute grabbed
the flowers before hustling out to her car, strapping the vase into the
passenger seat. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, to indulge in the relationship
she’d had with Jake like this, but it made her feel. And she’d been empty and
numb for so long, any feeling at all was a welcome change from the dark
depression that had strangled her.

She pushed the thoughts from her mind, turned up the radio
and sang along to the morning tunes. One nice thing about the old house was how
much closer to work it was. The whole drive took no more than fifteen minutes
with traffic before she pulled into the parking garage and gathered her things
for the trek into the building.

When she’d been in college Nicole had wanted an exciting
career. Maybe in fashion or music, something glamorous. Thank goodness her
parents had talked her out of both. There was nothing truly exciting about
being an analyst, but she’d long since learned the value of a stable job with
plenty of upward mobility. The reality was that Jake’s job would only ever pay
so much. Metro City had a much better policy on pay than many cities of
comparable size, but for the family they’d wanted they needed a bigger income.
Which was where her job came into the picture.

Nicole muttered her hellos as she passed coworkers before
finally reaching her desk. She didn’t rate an office, not yet, but she had a
large, L-shaped desk with a decent view of the Metro City Amusement Park. The
park had birthed the whole city, and on any given day she could watch people
soar through the air on coasters doing loop de loops. What had begun as a
kitschy theme park and a few hotels had sprouted a city and culture. There was
a huge emphasis on the everyday hero. There were even weekly spotlights on the
news about a local hero, and any time there was an extreme display of heroism,
the mayor rolled out the thank-yous. That mentality had attracted Nicole years
ago. The idea that there was greatness in everyone.

Take Tanya and Cole, for example. In the disaster that was
the attempted Olympic bombings, the couple had played an integral part in
ending what could have been a tragic loss of many lives. They’d been honored by
the mayor with medals and a whole production. Every TV station had wanted a
piece of them, though the couple had mostly declined the offers. Nicole had
moved here for school and a cheesy idea that of all cities, here she could make
a life for herself that mattered. It was dumb, but she’d been fed a steady diet
of romantic notions and sky-high dreams growing up.

Her family had been completely normal. A mom and dad, still
married and bickering about who tracked dirt into the house. An older brother
who would probably never get his nose out of a book or project but was somehow
moderately successful. She’d wanted something more than normal.

Nicole sighed and stared out her window. How long had it
been since she’d gone to the theme park? A few years at least. Maybe she should
go. Oh, she’d feel silly, but maybe she needed that dose of wonder again in her
life. When she’d imagined the Dread Pirate Roberts could be her hero someday.

Part of Jake’s appeal was the contradiction of good ol’
country boy in the city. He was about as far from normal as a girl could get,
with a sweet drawl and rough hands. She hadn’t even minded his job that much
because their normal wasn’t really normal at all.

“Nice flowers.” Collin leaned against her desk, one hand in
his pocket, the other holding a cup of coffee.

“Morning,” she replied automatically to hide her jump of
surprise.

Nicole glanced up at him but his gaze wasn’t on her face. It
was a little lower. Irritated, she tugged her blouse down in the back, bringing
her neckline up as far as she could manipulate it. Since her wonderfully tipsy
happy hour on Monday she’d avoided Collin. He was a handsome, suave man. The
kind she’d thought she might marry one day, before she met Jake and her ideals
of the perfect man changed. Oh, Nicole had indeed considered him for a rebound
after the divorce in her spiteful moments, but she didn’t want the man. Not
like she wanted Jake to sit with her and hold her hand while she was in the
bath he’d run for her.

“You look lovely today. Want a cup of coffee?” he asked.

“No thank you.” She’d never picked up another cup after Willow.

“Did you do something different with your hair?” Collin
reached over and tucked a curl behind her ear.

Nicole recoiled and his fingers skated along her jaw. He was
lucky she didn’t break those damn fingers. Jake had taught her more than a
little about self-defense. “Excuse me, need to run to the break room.”

She grabbed her tote and retreated. His desk was on a
completely different floor, so he couldn’t hang around for long. But he could
and did follow her.

“I was thinking we might get together. What are you doing
this weekend?” He walked so close their arms brushed.

“Sorry, Collin, I’m not interested.” She sped up but he
matched her pace. What was wrong with the man?

“Okay, okay, sorry. I know you and your husband just
separated. Too soon, I get it.” He said the words as clear as day, and with no
attempt whatsoever to be quiet.

Nicole stopped in her tracks. An invisible hand constricted
her throat and her knees locked in place. Collin took two more steps before
pivoting to face her, head tilted to the side and features creased as if he
wanted to ask a question but couldn’t find enough words to string a whole
sentence together. God, how had she ever found him attractive?

“How did you know that?” she demanded. She’d told Tanya,
that was it. Her private life was that, private. Her parents didn’t even know.

“I heard you say it to your friend on Monday. We all did.”
He shrugged.

Heat blossomed on her cheeks and her jaw hung open. Was that
why Tanya had hustled her out of the bar? Had she really announced to everyone
she was separating from Jake?

“It’s none of your business,” she blurted and pushed past
him into the break room.

“Nicole. Nicole, wait.”

Collin continued to follow her into the kitchen area with
the little four-top tables where people gathered to eat lunch and socialize
away from their desks. A few people stood clustered around the coffeepot, a
bunch of groggy zombies.

She pulled open the fridge and froze.

Sitting on the middle rack where usually someone stashed
that week’s birthday cake was a black frosted monstrosity with
Nicole, Free
At Last
scrawled on it in hot-pink letters. A pink ball and chain with the
cuff open looped around the outside.

“What is that?” she shrieked.

“It’s just a joke,” Collin replied. He had the good grace to
appear a little bit ashamed.

She slammed the door closed and glared at the man. “Was this
your idea?”

“Well, you seemed happy about it on Monday.” He glanced
around as if looking for an exit.

“This isn’t funny, Collin. This is my life. My private life.
It’s none of your business.” She whirled around, avoiding the stares from the
coffee zombies and stormed back to her desk, head held high. The invisible hand
around her chest squeezed tighter until her lungs burned.

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