Club Justice (31 page)

“We need to talk.”

The Captain looked at his watch and the pile of paperwork in front of him. It was seven o’clock and here he sat while his dinner got cold and his wife’s temper hot at home. He sighed. As if his problems made a bit of difference to Brawer. He waved a hand to the chairs in front of his desk.

Zeke ignored the invitation and paced the small office. Rage rolled off of him.

“This is a courtesy call before I head up the chain. I want that pissant’s head on a pike. I’m done tolerating his bogus investigation and jabs. He assaulted a fucking old lady and had the balls to tell her that I was the one she should be afraid of!”

Donovan shook his head, trying to follow his detective’s rant. Was he talking old lady wife, or the geriatric variety? He winced as Brawer’s heavy fist plowed into the wall. Plaster crumbled.

“Kramer assaulted your wife?” he asked, taking a shot.

Zeke collapsed into the chair and dropped his shaking head into his hands. He tugged at his hair in frustration.

“That too. Hell, I’m not sure. The little fucker is looking good for it, but they won’t let me anywhere near the investigation. Give me ten minutes with the son-of-a-bitch and I’ll have an answer for you.”

Donovan shut the blinds and fished a couple cups and a bottle of Jameson’s out of the cabinet behind his desk. Pouring them each a generous splash, he settled back into his chair.

“Start from the beginning.” 

Zeke swallowed the amber liquid and leaned back in the chair to collect his thoughts. Closing his eyes, he let his pounding head rest against the top of the chair and let the words pour out.

Donovan listened intently to the big man decant the details. Jotting notes, he struggled to hold his questions until the room fell silent. He opened his mouth and thought better of it. Swiping a hand over his face, he tried to digest everything Zeke had said. The thought of a police officer committing the atrocities Ginny Brawer had suffered sickened him. Zeke didn’t have the physical evidence, but the facts made a lot of sense. Would Kramer of gone to such lengths? There was no doubt that he had went too far in his dealings with Miriam. Physical and verbal assault of an elderly citizen, and damaging personal property in the course of an investigation wasn’t going to fly. She had filed a complaint with her local Sheriff before feeling the need to let Zeke know what was being said about him. Kramer’s accusations were slanderous. Brawer would have every right to sue the Internal Affairs rat.

He met Zeke’s eyes. Rage emanated from the big man. Legal action wasn’t what he had in mind. If he found Kramer before they did … Donovan didn’t even finish the thought. This was above his pay grade. Shaking his head, he reached over and picked up the phone to call the Chief.

A knock on the front door unheeded, Zeke walked around the side of the house. A peek in the garage found Miriam’s sensible sedan at home. Following the flower lined flagstones around back, he found her kneeling in the grass surrounded by potted Mums. He winced at the multi-colored bruise marring her lined cheek.

“Miriam?”

She started and then clutched a gloved hand over her heart.

“You startled me,” she said with a nervous laugh.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to stop by and make sure the door was secure for you.”

She ignored Zeke’s offered hand, standing and brushing off her knees.

“It cracked, but it didn’t shatter, thankfully. I’m going to have to see if I can find someone to replace just the glass or if I will have to get a whole new door. It breaks my heart really. My Thomas said that the stained glass roses were what caught his eye when he first saw this house. He knew I would love them.”

“Ginny’s good at finding things on that computer of hers. I’ll see if she can find a company that specializes in stained glass. Since it isn’t broke out, it gives you some time to find what you want and the department is going to have to reimburse you for the damages.”  

“That is so sweet of you, Zeke. I really appreciate your kindness.”

“Neighbors stick together. I have a tape measure in the Durango. I will take some measurements and snap a couple pictures with my phone so Ginny has something to work with.”

Miriam followed him back around the house, fussing with dead blooms while he took a look at the door.

“Do you think it was Tyson that hurt Ginny?”

Her question was so soft Zeke almost didn’t hear it over the rustle of the leaves. He swallowed his hatred. The pain in her voice reminded him that no matter what Tyson had been, Miriam was his mother.

“I don’t think so.”

Some of the tension left her slight body.

Zeke searched for something else to say, but came up empty. Giving Miriam’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, he headed for his SUV.

Zeke leaned next to the patio doors, the tantalizing smell of barbeque making his stomach growl.

“It should be done soon, Sasquatch,” Ginny murmured, checking the hash brown casserole in the oven.

Zeke smirked at her sass. She had been quiet since he had filled her in on his visit with Donovan.

“You’ve been quiet since I got home.”

“Correction, I’ve been quiet since you told me to be quiet and listen.”

“Jesus, Gin! Don’t be petty.”

“I’m not being petty, just thinking.” 

Zeke sighed and thumped the back of his head on the door frame.

“Talk to me.”

“I just want this shit to end.”

Zeke softened at the strain in her voice.

“It’s going to end, baby, one way or another.”

“This time it was Miriam. What if next time it’s Kat?”

“Kat’s …”

“Kat’s what? Tough? Is she smarter than I am, Zeke? Is she more careful? What is it that Kat is that I’m not?”

Seeing the cracks in her armor, Zeke stepped around the counter and pulled her safe into his arms. Rocking, he stroked her hair.

“You’re right, baby. We’ll protect the prego.”

“She’s so damn cute,” Ginny whispered with a sniffle.

“She’s got nothing on you.”

Ginny slapped at his chest, pulling back to find a Kleenex.

“You didn’t see her today when I went over to help with painting the nursery. She’s the cutest prego ever. She had on a tank and her ratty bibs with the legs rolled up. She was adorable!”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“She wants this baby so badly.”

Capturing her face between his hands, Zeke looked into her eyes.

“I promise you that we are not going to let anything bad happen to Kat and the baby.”

Ginny searched his eyes and then slumped.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re worried, but don’t borrow trouble. The top brass are looking into this shit with Kramer. As scary as it was for Miriam, this is the fuck-up we needed.”

“And if having nothing to lose pushes him over the edge?”

“A wise man recently reminded me that when an animal is sick, you put it down,” Zeke said, with a glint in his eye.

“It’s not worth losing you.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a smug bastard?”

“I think it has been mentioned a time or two.”

“Jokes aside, I meant what I said. This family needs you. I need you.”

Zeke cupped her cheeks again, giving her a firm kiss and a wink as Mox walked in.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Rage and hatred tinged with despair bubbled through his veins. Fists knotted in his stringy hair, Kramer’s mouth opened in a soundless scream. Blood smeared his table and trickled down his face from a gash on his forehead, but no amount of punishment would silence the taunting laughter ringing in his ears. The blue line had closed ranks all the way to the top, enclosing Brawer in the safety of their numbers and shutting him out. Their smug smiles played behind clenched lids.

They had stripped him of his badge and gun like the common riff raff he fought to put away.  Suspended, they had sent him home pending an investigation that he knew was a mere formality. Justice was a joke. Even the jealous bastards in Internal Affairs had hid their faces in convenient files, not a one meeting his eye as he cleared his desk. Not one of them would have the balls to go after Brawer now. Why bother? The brass were making it clear their golden boy was off limits. 

His forehead smashed into the table. He fucking hated that brawny bastard. Brawer was society’s vision of a law enforcement officer. At two or three inches over six foot and built like a bull, he inspired confidence. His grin and superficial charm put people at ease. People wanted a hero and Brawer gave them that. These were the same people that immortalized a man because he could catch, dunk, or throw a ball. They chose brawn over brain and muscle over morals and then cried foul when their role models acted like the Neanderthals they were.

Loathing twisted his features. The suits on the force were no different. They were blind. How could they not see what was right before their face? A wolf stalked among them, confident in his superiority. Manipulative and cunning, Brawer had parlayed street smarts and a brutal disregard for the rules into a brilliant career because all people saw were results. Were results at any cost really what their brass wanted?

The scorn on the Chief’s face teased his inner eye. Precious strands of hair ripped loose in his frenzied grip. The bastard had never respected him. Brawer didn’t respect him. That was a mistake. The kid gloves were off. He would show them how wrong they were. Brawer was dirty, but if he couldn’t be brought to justice, he could at least be brought down.   

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Ginny giggled as Kat’s portabella and Swiss burger tried to get the best of her.

“Need help over there?”

“I think I got it,” she murmured, tracking a string of cheese back to the burger before flashing a triumphant grin.

“Way to go, Prego!” Ginny cheered, handing over a napkin.

“Laugh all you want, but this hits the spot. Of all the fucked up things, I’ve been craving mushrooms. Crux comes home every night for dinner wondering what in the hell I’ve put fungus in now.”   

“I guess he can be glad you’re not craving Captain Crunch like I did with my last one. Try sneaking that into dinner.”

Both women laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks, unmindful of the stares. They had left the charm of Trinity behind for a little big city shopping. It felt good to get away.

“Can you believe they want three hundred and forty dollars for the same crib I picked up at a yard sale for fifty bucks?”

“Why spend that much for furniture they are just going to grow out of in two years?”

“Exactly. You could buy a queen size bed for that.”

“Tell Crux you saved him three hundred dollars so you don’t want to hear any bitching about you spending money,” Ginny mumbled, giggling around a mouthful.

“I’m filing that one away,” Kat said, eyes sparkling.

“I still need to hit Yankee Candle and our incense store. Anything else special you’re looking for?”

“I definitely want to hit those two and I’d like to price Levi’s for Crux and a couple more nice shirts that will cover my belly. For everyday, I’ll just steal Crux’s t-shirts, but I have to have something decent if I want to dress a little nicer. I thought maybe JCPenney’s. I think I’m good on pants for now. I found two pair of bibs on EBAY, besides the pair I have, and your idea of looping the hair bands through the button hole is working wonders as an extender for my jeans.” 

“Experience pays off,” Ginny said with a smug smile. “Maternity clothing is another thing I never saw the point of spending a lot of money on. Tunics or sweaters with leggings and boots will be great now that it is cooling off and you already have a ton of those.”

“You’re invaluable.”

“All this and brains too.”

“Humility isn’t her strong suit,” Kat whispered to the approaching waiter as Ginny preened.

“She’s got the body to get away with it,” he said, looking Ginny up and down.

“His tip is going up exponentially.”  

“Not if I’m leaving it,” Kat groused, tossing a napkin at him. “Way to make the prego feel good.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“I don’t know if I should hug you or slug you.”

“He was too busy looking at your tits to notice your waist, honey.”

“I-I was looking at her wedding ring,” the poor guy stuttered.

Ginny cocked her head to the side and gave him a skeptical look.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I…then I saw your ring and …”

Kat laughed at the flustered boy.

“If you think that’s scary, you should see my husband.”

“That would be priceless.”

“You are evil, Ginny Brawer.”

Grinning at the young man who was looking more uncomfortable by the moment, Ginny shook her head.

“Chill out, Junior. Kat’s not a prude. She’s got a great set of girls and pregnancy is only helping them out. We’re just messing with you.”

“Can I get you ladies any dessert?” he asked, relief heavy in his voice.

“What’re you offering?” Kat purred.

“You two are trying to get me in trouble today, aren’t you?”

“Now, why would you think that?” Ginny drawled.

The Durango’s tires hummed as they cruised down the interstate. Unasked questions hung in the air between them. Ginny chewed the inside of her lip, searching fruitlessly for a way to ease the tension that had invaded their day. Kat beat her to it.

“I’m sorry. Sometimes I just don’t think, and today was one of them. I feel like such a dumbass.”

“Jesus, Kat. It’s not your fault. How many times have we shopped at Vicky’s?”

“I know. It’s just that I didn’t even think about…I mean you were just…and I’m talking about you having sex … and …”

“I’m fine. It’s good that you forgot about it. It means that things are getting back to normal.”

“I just didn’t think about you and Zeke not. I mean you two are…” Kat stuttered and stammered.

“Keep digging, I could use a fortune cookie,” Ginny said with a laugh.

Kat blushed and giggled.