Silent Reckoning. Debra Webb

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СКАЧАТЬ I don’t know exactly how they do things in Georgia, but up here in Tennessee when someone says, “Nice to meet you,” a person generally says something like, “The pleasure is mine” whether they mean it or not. That he didn’t only lowered my impression of him.

      Ray turned to Barlow and I did the same, just in time to catch something about seat or seats. Barlow gestured to my chair and then I realized he’d said that we should take our seats.

      Before I could settle back into mine I realized Ray had spoken to Barlow. I swung my attention back to him as he said my position clear. Man, I was a little slow on the uptake today. I’m generally much better at keeping up with a two-, even a three-way conversation.

      I would prefer a male partner. Ray looked from Barlow to me. I don’t mean to offend you, Miss Walters, but in my experience women are too emotional. That natural fault makes female detectives too unreliable for my comfort.

      I told myself to think before I responded, but it was already too late. My mouth was in motion before my brain jumped into gear.

      “I understand completely, Ray,” I said with all the feigned patience I could muster. “But we all have our faults. If you won’t hold being a woman against me, I’ll try my best not to hold your stupidity against you.”

      Chapter 2

      Sunday morning I slept in.

      I’d stopped by the hospital after my shift ended yesterday. Shameka was out of the woods. Looked pretty damned good for a woman who’d been shot the night before. She thanked me repeatedly for saving her life. But she was the one who deserved the respect and gratitude. It had taken mega guts to put herself out there like that. And, though Johnson hadn’t been caught yet, Shameka’s efforts were not for naught.

      Having drawn Johnson out into the open again, Metro now had hard evidence against Clarence Johnson, drug dealer, on-again off-again pimp and perpetual scumbag. Not to mention we had an eyewitness regarding Johnson’s intentions on Friday night. A witness whose credibility would be impeccable with the DA as well as any judge on the circuit.

      Me.

      Up to now he’d been a mere suspect. All of Metro had been pretty darned sure he was their man, especially considering Shameka had insisted that Johnson was the one who’d shot the cop. She hadn’t witnessed the shooting but she’d heard him brag about it. But still, we hadn’t had the evidence we needed until now.

      The man who’d killed Officer Ted Ferris had left some DNA evidence at the scene of the shooting. Apparently Ferris had injured his attacker. Blood not belonging to Ferris had been found on his uniform. The crime lab had stopped everything to run the needed tests on the blood they’d found in the abandoned Caddy.

      I smiled. Clarence Johnson was a match. The blood wasn’t proof positive that he’d killed Ferris, but it was solid evidence that he’d been there when Harris died. The scumbag was going down. All Metro had to do was find his sorry hide. Then again, maybe he’d crawled into some hole and bled to death. That would save the taxpayers having to foot the bill for his trial.

      I still felt furious at my new partner. But I would have died before I’d have let him see how he annoyed me as we’d muddled through the day yesterday.

      Introducing him around and showing him all the important destinations, such as evidence lock-up, the Chief of Detectives’ office and the archives, my old stomping grounds, had been standard procedure. Ray Patterson smiled and shook hands with everyone he met. He played the good-old-boy charm to the hilt.

      Mostly I wanted to puke.

      The guy was a fake. He pretended to be cool with his new assignment, specifically with me as his partner, and yet I had been in the room when he’d made his position more than clear to Barlow. He was the quintessential male chauvinist. A pig, no pun intended.

      As I’d tossed and turned last night I’d considered why Barlow had decided to partner me up with a dinosaur mentality like Patterson. He could have easily shuffled someone else around. It wasn’t unheard of. There might have been rumbles of complaints but it would have passed.

      I knew Barlow. He was a smart man. His first loyalty was to the job. He had his reasons for doing this the way he did. I just wasn’t privy to them yet. As much as I disliked the idea of working with a guy who considered himself a better cop than me simply because he was a man, I trusted Barlow’s judgment. We might not be able to work out our personal feelings but the guy had it on the ball where his work was concerned.

      I felt totally confident that his reasons would be revealed eventually. And all would have been for the best for all concerned. The question was, would Patterson live to see it?

      My lips quirked.

      I padded into the kitchen for more coffee. As I surveyed the room I considered whether or not I really wanted to jump into a kitchen renovation. I’d been thinking about it since I returned from the academy. My whole house could use an update. Though I liked the cottage-style, it was getting a little worn. New cabinets and countertop, definitely new appliances would be good. The hardwood floors throughout I would keep, but a fresh coat of paint and maybe some new slipcovers for the living room furniture. Maybe.

      I thought about calling my mom to see if she’d heard from Sarah or Michael this weekend.

      Michael is one of my brothers. He’s also a fireman in Brentwood. His wife, Sarah, was my best friend all through high school. We’ve always been like sisters, which is great, since I never had one for real. She’s also the Chief of Detectives, Barlow’s boss’, secretary. But more important, she’s pregnant, due any second. This was actually her second pregnancy—she’d lost the first baby at six weeks. That was a tough time but she and my brother had been determined and they’d gotten through it. Her maternity leave from work had started a week ago. I missed her smiling face around Metro but I sure was happy for her.

      The arrival of the first grandchild in any family is a monumental occasion. But in my family it ranked right up there with the second coming of Christ. We could hardly wait for this baby to come.

      I would be turning thirty-one in a couple of months with no prospects of marriage, much less childbearing. I don’t have a problem with that. I love kids. I definitely love men and sex. But I’m still enjoying my second career and my newfound independence. Besides, staying unattached was so simple. Love was too complicated…still, the sex part would be nice. Truth is, like most women, I told myself what I wanted to hear. I didn’t have any offers, so I focused on my career and, for now, that was for the best.

      Besides, whenever I thought of sex…I thought of Steven Barlow and what it might be like to have hot, frantic sex with him. We’d kissed, but nothing else. And every time I let myself dwell on how much I wanted him…well, it wasn’t good. I got all frustrated and then I started thinking about another man, one as equally forbidden, or maybe more so, as Barlow. Mason Conrad. He was totally off limits. I’d been undercover to take down that mob boss I told you about and he’d been one of the bad guys. But that didn’t stop us from connecting in a big way. What we’d shared, which wasn’t actually sex, but had the same result, had rattled me, still did, when I obsessed on the memories. Hanging on to my feelings for Barlow was probably all that had saved me from a monumental mistake.

      The smell of overheated coffee made my nose twitch and dragged me away from thoughts of my lack-luster sex life. I should make a fresh pot. Feeling lazy, I tightened the sash of my robe and opted for taking my chances with the already brewed stuff. If I could drink the СКАЧАТЬ