Delta Stevens 1: Taken by Storm (3 page)

Finally buckling up her belt, Delta looked at herself in the full-length mirror hanging across the room. She had lost weight since the break-up, and her large frame appeared gaunt until she put her vest on.

Adjusting the last of her gear, Delta sighed. With nearly twenty pounds of gear on, she felt more comfortable than when she was wearing her street clothes, which now hung loosely off her.

“I’ve got to start eating more,” she grumbled, staring at the new notch she was using on her belt. “I hope Sandy finds the ten pounds I lost.”

Checking her weapon and her ammo one last time, as she always did, Delta started out the door. “’Bout time Stevens. Captain is chewing the burnin’ end of the cigar waiting for you.”

“What does he want?”

“Dunno. But you’d better get your butt in there. He’s asked for you twice.”

Delta inhaled loudly, anticipating trouble. Captain Williams was not one to call her in and ask how her life was. He was more like a principal who called kids in only when they were in trouble. Rifling through her short term memory, Delta searched for any mistakes she might have made during the week.

Slowly entering the Captain’s office, Delta closed the door softly behind her. The room, as always, was nearly dark, except for the tiny beam of light shining down from his desk lamp. The room always reminded Delta of a cave.

“You wanted to see me, Captain?” The large, broad-shouldered man looked up from his report and stared at her. A slow grin crept across his face. “Have a seat, Stevens.” Laying his report aside, Captain Williams ran his meaty hands through his thick salt and pepper hair before locking his fingers behind his head and leaning back in the chair. Delta read this posture as harmless and not offensive. Delta believed that posture was the ultimate in truthful communication, and when this particular man was aggravated with someone, he would fold his bands in front of him and rest his chin atop his massive knuckles.

“You’ve been turning in some excellent reports, Stevens, and that collar you and Brookman made two weeks ago was a fine catch.”

Delta nodded, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Thank you, sir.”

“You and Brookman have been working very well together for quite some time now, haven’t you?”

“We manage, sir. Some days it works, some days it doesn’t.” Delta knew what happened to partnerships that became too complacent and comfortable. It was erroneously believed that partners who got along too well weren’t on their toes as much as those who argued now and then.

“Except for a few glitches here and there, you’re managing nicely.” Lowering his hands, the Captain leaned forward against the desk his hands were folded but rested against his broad chest. “Stevens, I’m all for partners sticking together and showing loyalty, but there are times when it can be extremely detrimental to one partner’s health. Are you following me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve been listening to the hubbub around the station, and I’ve watched Brookman very carefully lately, and he appears to me to be missing a step.”

“Missing a step, sir?”

“Yes. You know, he’s been edgy and looks exhausted. What I’m needing to know is, is your partner moonlighting?”

“Not that I know, sir.” Delta leaned forward, very aware that her body language was telling him that she would not be cowed into snitching on her own partner.

“I ask you this because some of the men were questioning whether or not he’s up to par. Know what I mean? My concern is for your safety, as well as the others in this station. ”

Delta licked her lips and chose her words carefully. “If you have a question, sir, why not ask Miles? I’m sure he’d tell you what you wish to know.”

Captain William’s eyes narrowed. “I have. He tells me he’s having trouble at home, but then, I’m sure that isn’t news to you.”

“No, sir, it isn’t.” Delta lied. “He’s just having a bad week, that’s all.” Delta felt the sweat form on her palms, as it always did when she was nervous.

“Then you have no concerns that he might be burning out on patrol?”

“No, sir, I don’t.”

Williams leaned back once more and rested his hairy paws on the arms of the wooden chair. “While I value your opinion, Stevens, I think it’s always best to play it safe. I am going to have to consider putting him behind a desk for a few weeks until he straightens out whatever is going on in his personal life. At present, he could be a liability to you.”

Delta blinked. That was the worst possible thing for Miles right now. If Williams put him behind a desk, Miles would go nuts. “Sir, I have to say that I don’t agree with that de—”

“I understand your reservations, Stevens, but I won’t have an officer on the streets who isn’t functioning at a hundred percent. Would you?”

“No, sir, I wouldn’t. But even on his worst day, Miles is the best beat cop around.”

Captain Williams nodded. “You’re a good partner to him, Stevens. But unless he straightens up or takes some time off, I’m afraid I’ll have to yank him.”

“I understand.” As Delta reached for the brass knob, she turned back to see Williams pushing down on a medical inhalant many asthmatics use. “Sir?”

Captain Williams held the medicine in his chest for a moment before exhaling. “Yes?”

“Miles has never put my life in jeopardy, and I hope you realize what a good cop he is. Putting him behind a desk, even for a week, would be a terrible waste.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, Stevens, but I appreciate your honesty.”

As the glass door clicked behind her on her way out, Delta felt a ball of anger tighten in her stomach.

“You okay?“ Connie asked, putting her Math Monster computer game away.

Delta nodded, still feeling the clamminess of her palms. ”Does Captain Williams ever give you major creeps?“

Connie nodded. “Often.”

Wiping her hands on her pants, Delta glanced over to the glass office and the burly man still sitting at his desk. “Me, too.”

“Are you in trouble?”

Shaking her head, Delta gained a better grip of the firey ball burning in her. “Not me. Miles.”

“Uh oh. Big trouble?”

Delta nodded. “Big trouble. And it’s the last thing Miles needs right now.”

“I don’t suppose—”

“Not a chance. Williams never really listens to what we have to say. His mind was made up before I went in. I’m not even sure why he bothered talking to me at all.”

For a moment, the two women looked at each other in silence, before Connie flicked off her computer screen.

“If he gets a burr up his royal ass, Miles is screwed.”

Delta nodded. “I know.”

“Fat Man might just take him off the streets, you know.”

I know,” Delta replied as she stared through the glass at the Captain. In the darkness of his office as he hunched over papers, he reminded her of the Quasimodo high atop Notre Dame, hanging on with one hand and drool coming out of his mouth. “Con, do you ever wonder whose side he’s really on?”

Tonight, Delta decided, she would get some answers from Miles. Up until now, she had been able to keep his drowsiness and restlessness to herself. But people were starting to take notice. And if so, it was time for her to pull her head out of the sand and deal with it. If he could-n’t be honest with her, then maybe the Captain was right maybe whatever he was doing was hazardous to her. Delta knew she couldn’t go on protecting him indefinitely, especially when she didn’t know what she was protecting him from. Signing out for a radio, Delta slid it casually into the container, adding even more weight to her overloaded belt.

“Ready?” Miles asked, dangling the keys in the air. This was his signal to her that he didn’t want to drive.

“Sure.” Taking the keys, Delta’s gaze tried to penetrate through his eyes, as if it were possible for her to read some mysterious message.

“Come on, pardner,” Miles drawled in his phony John Wayne accent, “Let’s go get us some bad guys.”

Carefully watching Miles’s every movement, Delta cocked one eyebrow at him. He appeared in better spirits than he’d been in a long time. There was a lightness to his gait that set her at ease as he acted his usual cocky self.

“You must have had a nice day,” Delta asked, starting the engine. The overhead clock read 6:05, but it was already beginning to get dark. “

As a matter-of-fact, I did. Jen and I went out to lunch and shopped around a bit until the kids came home from school. How about you?”

“I kicked around the house, watched some soaps, and did some laundry. Not the most thrilling of days.”

For the next ten minutes they drove in silence, with only the squawking of the radio making a sound between them. Delta was turning the muster report over in her mind. This was their usual routine; a few bits of personal conversation before both ran through the day’s reports. The Sarge had reported that there was an unusually high amount of tampered coke and crack on the street and much of it was beginning to filter into the schoolyards. A large shipment was believed to have landed in the area, but Vice had yet to locate the exact source. It appeared as if Vice was baffled by the amount of drugs flowing this time of year. Drug activity slowed in the winter as the cold kept people off the streets. But this year was dramatically different. Already, a number of busts had occurred in an area that normally had very little drug activity. This was an indication that there was a great deal more drugs on the street and that the pushers were forced to expand their dealing area. Delta winced, remembering the bust she and Miles had made on a kid who had been pushing drugs in Miles’s kids’school. She thought he was going to kill that kid, he was so incensed.

“I also spent some time talking to Bassinger from Vice.” Miles’s voice interrupted Delta’s thoughts.

“Oh?” She wished he’d get off this vice thing and concentrate on what they were being paid to do.

“He’s not as closemouthed as the rest of those guys. I got some pretty interesting information from him.”

Delta swallowed hard. What in the hell was he up to?

“Bassinger thinks the source of dope is coming from around our area and borders Patterson and McKlinton’s beat. ”

Delta did not look at him, but stared straight ahead. The bar she’d gone to last night was in Patterson’s beat; so was the Red Carpet. “Go on.”

“This could be the one, Del.” Delta gripped the wheel harder. “Give it a rest, Miles. We’ll get to Vice sooner or later.”

“Sooner is my preference. Come on, Del, you know that you’ve got to make your own path in this business. You can’t wait for the big busts to come to you. You have to create them. ”

Delta turned slowly. “Is that what you’re doing? Creating a big bust?”

Miles said nothing.

“Miles, do you realize how close you are to being yanked off the streets?” Delta surprised herself with that bit of untethered honesty. And even more to her surprise, Miles nodded.

“I haven’t been totally honest with you, Del.”

“No shit.”

“No, really. You know how badly I want to get to Vice.”

Delta slowed and eyed a van driving suspiciously slow. “I hope you haven’t done anything we’re going to regret.”

Miles shook his head. “Just the opposite. I’m just taking care of us, that’s all.”

Before Delta could respond, the dispatcher’s voice crackled their number.

“S1012, what’s your 20?”

Miles picked up the mike. “This is S1012. Our 20 is 8th and Dryden.”

“You have a 416 at 1900 South Bronte, and see the lady.”

“10-4.” Miles laid the mike back on the arm.

A knot built up in Delta’s stomach when she heard the address. 1900 South Bronte was next door to where she’d seen Miles last night. Whatever he was up to, he’d stopped hiding it from her.

“What’s this all about?” she asked him as she turned left onto Bronte.

Miles rubbed his hands together like a greedy miser. “It’s a bit premature to give you any of the details yet, but this is the info I’ve been waiting for.”

Delta looked at him sideways. “Is that her?”

Miles jumped out of the car practically before she could stop it. When the car came to a stop in front of a “no parking” sign, Miles leaned back into the window and smiled. “This won’t take but a second.”

The knot grew tighter as she watched Miles approach a young woman in her mid-twenties wearing a red leather skirt and matching pumps. The long slender legs and silky blonde hair draped over her shoulders would normally have been admired by Delta. As a woman, Delta filed her beauty deep in her subconscious. As a cop, she took a snapshot with her eyes and filed it with a red flag. Whoever this woman was, she sent the alarms ringing in Delta’s gut.

Miles spoke briefly with the woman, who handed him something, and then returned quickly to the patrol car. A second later, Delta pushed down the pedal and zoomed away.

“I think it’s time you did some explaining, Miles.” Delta’s emotions were caught between anger, fear, and curiosity. This time, he would answer all of her questions, or she would return to the station and dump him at the door.

Before answering her, Miles picked up the mike and told the dispatcher they were all clear.