Jump The Line (Toein' The Line Book 1) (8 page)

I put Theodore on my list, anyway, and decide
I’
ll keep him on my radar just in case.
 “
Alright,
I’
ll be in touch
,”
I say, standing and offering Rakesh Gupta
,“
criminal attorney
,”
his business card says, my hand.
 “
Do
n’
t leave town, Theodore
.
” 

Ignoring my hand, Gupta grabs my perp by the hairy forearm.
 “
Le
t’
s go
.
”

Theodore stops on his way out the door.
 “
You oughta go get my truck back, officer, instead of accusing an innocent man of murder
.
”

“
Yo
u’
re all innocent
,”
I say
,“
until yo
u’
re fucking caught.  Yo
u’
ve been caught, Theodore
.
”

“
Now wait just a gawddamn minut
e
—”

“
Not another word
,”
Gupta says, shoving my perp from the interview room.  I
t’
s not easy, either, considering Theodor
e’
s size.  I gaze at him.  Maybe he did
n’
t murder the girl in the alley, but if h
e’
s innocent of other felonies, then
I’
m Peter Pa
n
—

“
Stay away from Alaina Colby
,”
I warn, sorry the second I open my mouth and certain the words
I’
ve blurted have been provoked by my per
p’
s size.  H
e’
s massive.  H
e’
s got an assault record six inches thick and hates women.  And Alaina Colby, wh
o’
s all woma
n—
another surprising thought whose origin I ca
n’
t quite fatho
m—
is yet very vulnerable to whatever chicanery Theodore might decide to dream up.  If
I’
m wrong about Theodore not being Megalo Don, she could easily end up being vic number four.

“
I
t’
s a free country
,”
Theodore says, jerking his jeans up over a hairy belly by the belt loop and puffing out his barrel chest.
 “
I know my constitutional rights
.
”

I almost laug
h—
almost.

“
Shut up
,”
Gupta says.

I ignore DeeDe
e’
s raised eyebrows, her perplexed gaze.  Even Rakesh Gupta, the criminal trucke
r’
s patron saint, stares at me.  He and Theodore squeeze through the door and exit the interview room.  What made me say that?  Wha
t’
s Alaina Colby to me?

Following them out, DeeDee close behind, I grab my notes and briefcase.
 “I’
m going home to grab a few hour
s
’ sleep.  See you at Arne
e’
s for breakfast.  W
e’
ll get a workup started on the latest vic.  Captain Meyers is demanding an immediate report
.
”

“I’
ll be there
,”
DeeDee says, suddenly all smiles.

Sh
e’
s not still pissed that I dumped her and went to the homicide scene with Wes?

Hmmm.
  That thought, and her flirty smile, make me worry. 
This is
n’
t a date,
I want to warn her. 
I’
m DeeDe
e’
s boss until sh
e’
s trained, but tha
t’
s not the problem.  I
t’
s her mother.  Sh
e’
s Newpor
t’
s Mayor, Darlene Laws.  My boss at Newport PD, Captain Bill Meyers, gave in to Mayor Law
s
’ demand that he put her daughter on homicide instead of vice, where DeeDee and every rookie belongs. 
I’
ve got to train DeeDee, and at the same time
I’
ve also got to keep this whole mess from blowing up in my face.  Tha
t’
s not going to be easy, considering DeeDe
e’
s temperament, and her mothe
r’
s.

“
Yeah
,”
I say, feeling a knot forming and gouging my gut.
 “
See you tomorrow
.
”

Chapter 6

Tomorrow arrives before I get a chance to lay my head on the pillow.  Bright and early, I skip another shave, do a quick shower, and then rush to meet DeeDee at Arne
e’
s.

Shoving eggs around on my plate and drinking coffee to clear the cobwebs from my sleep deprived brain, I feel irritable.  And I know why.

The moment I laid eyes on Alaina Colby at Oma
r’
s last night I felt it, the attraction.  Instantaneous.  Strong.  I ca
n’
t shake the mental images tailing me from last night.  Her hair.  The crazy harem outfit.  Those
breasts.

In a very good way, i
t’
s torture. 
Let it go.  Roll with it.
 

But I ca
n’
t.  Women do
n’
t get under my skin.

“
Aidan, is something wrong with your eggs
?
”

“
No, the
y’
re . . . nice
.
”
 
I plunge my fork into a swollen yolk and stare, but i
t’
s images of Alaina Colb
y’
s taught breasts I keep trying to push from my brain.  Most men would argue this is a good quandary, the sweetest form of torture.  I just do
n’
t happen to feel that way, not this time.  Something feels very different, unsettling as hell.

DeeDee soaks up adoring stares cast by Arne
e’
s customers and then launches a smile at me across our table.  I do
n’
t bother hiding my frown.  Best she starts getting to know
I’
m not the easy mark sh
e’
s apparently got me figured for.  Just because women draw a bead on me does
n’
t mean
I’
m easy.  Still, sh
e’
s got assets . . .

I sneak another glance.  Sh
e’
s blessed doubly.  Cup size and a family that wields local power: DeeDe
e’
s got both.  Her grandmother was Newpor
t’
s reform mayor, Irene Blackmoore.  Irene chased the bars, and the B-girls and prostitutes and naked dancers, out o
f“
Sin City
,”
Newpor
t’
s name back in the day.  Thanks to Irene, the only topless dancing bar left in Newport, other than Oma
r’
s, is the Brass Ass.  The PC police have moved in, so everyone calls it the Brass Mule nowadays, except the old timers, who simply call i
t“
the Ass
.
”

“I’
m privileged to be sitting across from you
,”
DeeDee says.

“
Oh
?”
I yawn.
 “
Wh
y’
s that
?
”

“
Yo
u’
re only Newport P
D’
s youngest ever lead homicide investigator
,”
she says.

“
Glad you feel that way
,”
I agree, lying bastard that I am.  I turn the problem in my mind. 
I’
m saddled with a rookie who has more political clout than sh
e’
s earned and more blonde hair and plastic boobs than a Barbie doll.
 
“
Wish I had my old partner back
,”
I grumble. 

“I’
ll pretend I did
n’
t hear that and just keep thinking about how lucky I am
.
”

Is she serious?  Or is she truly acknowledging her good fortune to be working with me?  Does
n’
t matter. 
I’
m stuck with her.  W
e’
re working the case o
f“
Megalo Don
,”
our serial biter, who brutalizes young girls, literally chewing and eating them, and then dumps them in the alley behind Oma
r’
s.  So
I’
ve got to deal with her.
 “
Glad to have you on board
,”
I mumble, about as glad as
I’
d be to rewrite the Ohio Revised Code.

“
I
t’
s a chance in a lifetime for me
,”
she says.  

Yep.  The case is a career maker for anyone, much less a rookie like you.

Former Miss Kentucky and a former freelance reporter for the
Cincinnati Enquirer
, DeeDe
e’
s a well-heeled hothouse flower.  She quit her work at the
Enquirer
when NPD hired her.  HR bitched about the conflict her work as a former stringer posed, but since her mama is Newpor
t’
s mayor, they shut up quick.  Never mind the political conflict: no one in Newport gives a shit about that, not even HR.  But DeeDee wo
n’
t last.  When she gets bored dabbling in murder, sh
e’
ll do NPD the favor they deserve and move on.

I prep myself mentally.  How shall I deal with DeeDee now? 

Got it.  Same as I do all women.  Women want equality. 
I’
ll give it, even though I wish there were one female left on Earth wh
o’
d let me be on to
p—
just once.  For now,
I’
ll mentor DeeDee the same as I would a man.  No breaks.

“
I eat here because I do
n’
t have time to cook
,”
I say, hoping to straighten her out.
 “
And speaking of time, w
e’
ve got plenty of work to do.  And very little time
.
”

“I’
m ready
,”
DeeDee says.
 “
Captain Meyers has already given me my orders
.
”

The
hell
?  Meyers is already doing everything he can to make my life a living hell.  Man hates me.
 “
Tha
t’
s not how this is going to shake down
,”
I say.
 “
Agreed, we both work for Meyers.  Agreed, you and I are partners.  But
I’
m senior on this team.  Yo
u’
re rookie. 
I’
m calling the shots
.
”

I admire her pluck.  Instead of the hurt look some women would fake, the one
I’
m expecting, she puts on an amused frown.
 “
Why, I swear.  Aidan Gerard Hawks, you are cold as ice.  Cold
,”
she repeats, her southern lilt laced with rebuke.  Then she fidgets.
 “
You just took what I said the wrong way, tha
t’
s all
.
”

“
Did I
?
”

“
I hope you do
n’
t curse like that all the time
,”
she says.
 “
I ca
n’
t bear cursing
.
”

It irritates me the way she uses my full name, like my mother does when sh
e’
s upset. 
Why does she go out of her way to give me a mental wedgie?
 
Why does it bother me?
 
“
Better get used to it
,”
I say.
 “
I fucking love to cuss
.
”

“
I like a challenge
,”
she says, and then winks.

Wha
t’
s with women who feel it okay to wink but lawyer up if a man holds open her door? 

“
Be cold to me if you want, bu
t
”
—
she shakes her finge
r
—
“I’
m known to melt ice. . .
.
”

I’
m from Cincinnati, but I work in Newport, so I like Kentucky, but natives like DeeDee mak
e“
ic
e”
sound lik
e“
ass
.
”
 
Right across the river in Cincinnati, women plainly sa
y“
ice
.
”
 
So on top of everything else, I detest her southern belle accent. 

“
I
t’s‘
ice
,
’ dammit
,”
I say
,“
not
ass
.  Now le
t’
s get busy
.
”

* * *

Being traine
d
—
“
mentore
d”
as Captain Meyers prefer
s—
is never a cakewalk for a rookie.  I
t’
s time to test Ms. Law
s
’ mettle.  I toss a color photo across the table top.  It lands near DeeDe
e’
s fruit compote.  Sh
e’
s been nibbling, so the mostly uneaten grapes and cantaloupe look pretty damn lonely. 

“
Hmmm
,”
she says. 

To her credit, she does
n’
t shoot up from the table and run off to vomit.  I cut my rookie some slack.  Not much, but some.
 “
Tha
t’
s Megalo Do
n’
s most recent vic
,”
I say.

“
Time of death
?
”

“
Ca
n’
t say for sure until the corone
r’
s report comes in, but he left her in the alley some time last night or early this morning
,”
I say
,“
over near Sixth and Monmouth
.
”
 
After I dumped your ass and called Wes, a real cop.
 
I’
d taken DeeDee with me to Oma
r’
s to warn the dancers to be careful leaving the bar.  I thought the dancers might relate better to a female cop.  When I got the call about the body, I sent her back to the cruiser, telling her giving chase on foot to Alaina Colb
y—
and the bigass Coke truck she and her partner had heiste
d—
was
n’
t my idea of good police work.  Tha
t’
s when w
e’
d had our little argument.

“
Then
y’
all are sayi
n
’ this per
p’
s MO is same as with the last two vic
s’?
”

“
Could be
,”
I say.
 “
Both MOs look the same.  We found the last one in the same alley.  Megalo, if i
t’
s him, left her in a commercial grade lawn bag near a dumpster behind Oma
r’
s
.
”

“
What does Captain Meyers say
?”
she asks.

I give her a hard stare and hold back a purely acid though
t—
What the fuck do I care?
  The captai
n’
s opinion is a sore point with me, one I wo
n’
t share with DeeDee.  I also do
n’
t tell her that, when the second body showed up week before last, Captain Meyers had warned me
,“
Get this mess cleaned up, Detective Hawks.  Pronto.  Or
I’
ll have your badge
.
”

Captain Meyers was responding to pressure from Newpor
t’
s city council, under pressure from voters to lower the cit
y’
s crime rate.
 “
Shame DeeDe
e’
s working for the
Enquirer
and NPD is a conflict
,”I’
d told him.
 “
She could make up better statistics for NPD and then write whatever the hell NPD wanted her to
.
”