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Authors: Jennifer Harlow

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BOOK: Justice
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Priority Homicide, where I work, is packed so tight people have spilled into Special Victims in the next room. I can’t even
see
my desk, let alone get to it. There is no order, only people milling around or looking bored. Wouldn’t the reporters love this? There’s an escaped maniac on the loose, and the people supposed to catch him are twiddling their thumbs and talking about the last Galilee Angel’s game. Cam waves as I worm my way in, but disappears into the file room.

Kowalski, who had the privilege of staying up all night and dealing with this mess, steps out of Harry’s office looking on the verge of collapse. I not so politely nudge my way through the dead weight. Kowalski’s face almost lights up when he spots me.


Jesus Christ, you are a sight for sore fucking eyes,

he says as we step into the office.

Harry’s office is cramped with only a desk, three chairs, a map of the city on the wall, and a gold desk lamp. The only window looks out onto the bullpen but the gray, vertical blinds are drawn for privacy. The desk is covered with files, pink message slips, and loose papers. When Harry gets in and sees this mess, he’ll flip. Unlike me, he’s a neat freak almost to the point of anal retention. Makes him great at paperwork but a lousy roommate. Not that we’re even close to that point. Hell, we just exchanged keys two weeks ago.


What the hell is all this?

I ask as Kowalski shuts the door. The inane chattering outside is cut in half.


Messages from the press, city hall, supers offering their help,

Kowalski answers as he falls into Harry’s chair.

I haven’t done jack-shit since last night but answer telephone calls and fill out requisition forms. At least now you’re here.

I start gathering up all the pink slips, but raise an eyebrow.

Do I look like a secretary?


I need rack time Fallon or I’ll pass out right on the floor,

he pleads.

I sigh.

Fine. Go. I’m sure Harry will get here soon anyway.

He smiles.

Thanks. I have a uni handling the calls now, so it should be a little quieter. Get me if you need me.

He rushes out before I can change my mind.

First things first, clean up this mess. As I am a trained multi-tasker, I gather up the notes, files, and forms while calling Justin. He picks up on the fifth ring.


Pendergast,

he says, out of breath.


It’s Jo. Bad time?


No. No, I was just…working out.


Well, I’m alive. Exhausted, but alive.

There is no way in hell I’m telling him I got into a car chase with a psychopath last night. I’d never hear the end of it.


You’re on the Alkaline case, aren’t you?

he asks, not at all thrilled by the prospect.


Yep. Cam and I are the leads.

Justin’s end remains silent for a moment.

And there’s no way I can talk you into taking an extended vacation starting today, is there?

I roll my eyes.

You know, most best friends would be happy and supportive that I’m heading up the biggest manhunt this city has ever seen.


The man shoots acid, Jo. He’s a cold-blooded psychopath. Forgive me if the prospect of my best friend attempting to bring him into custody doesn’t inspire enthusiasm.


Whatever. Killjoy. You’ll be eating those words when you’re at my commendation ceremony.


Joanna, I’m serious. I know I can come off as overprotective, and I know you hate that.


Both true.


But in this case…I’m scared for you. I’m begging you,
please
, ask to be taken off this one.
Please
.

The fear and desperation in his voice gives me pause. He’s never sounded like this before, not even on the bridge. I hate to admit it, but my body temperature rises and a huge grin forms. He cares. He really cares. I quickly quash it.

I promise I’ll be careful. And I’ll be surrounded by half the force and God knows how many supers.


You’re not going to do it, are you?

he asks.


This surprises you?


No. You’ve always been too stubborn to listen to reason,

he says harshly.

I scoff.

Gee, thanks. I think the world of you too,

I say.

Look, I gotta go. Don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me for a couple of days, okay? I’ll make sure someone calls you if my stubbornness gets me killed. You can say ‘I told you so’ at the funeral.

I slam the phone down. Okay, that was uncalled for and I know it the second I do it, but he got my Irish up. After two decades of friendship, he should know better.

There’s a knock on the door before it opens. Cam and the honorable Mayor Samuel Miracle step in.

I have no idea when he’ll be in,

Cam finishes saying. Both men notice me and smile.

Oh,

Cam says.

There you are.


Just getting things organized,

I say.

Mayor Miracle.


Det. Fallon,

the mayor says.

Our illustrious mayor. For some reason, I’ve never liked him. Our last mayor, Harlan Flores, helped clean up the parks in the Ward, so Miracle had some big shoes to fill. The man isn’t fit to collect Flores’ trash. I don’t know if it’s his beady eyes, ferret face, or the fact he hit on me at a Pendergast gala with his wife not five feet away. The feeling is mutual after I told him that if he didn’t stop touching me, I’d break the champagne glass and shove the shards into his fingers. Diplomatic I am not. I think he’s been afraid of me ever since.


I guess the Lieutenant isn’t here,

Cam says.


Not yet.


Any idea when he will be?

Miracle asks.


How would I know? I’m not his keeper.


I’m sure he’s on his way, Mr. Mayor,

Cam says.

We stayed at the prison very late.


I appreciate all your hard work and dedication,

Miracle says,

but as my campaign slogan said, ‘As long as crime doesn’t sleep, neither should your mayor.’


Oh, so you were up at two in the morning with us interviewing the prisoners and collecting evidence? Strange, I didn’t see you there,

I say.

Miracle glares at me, and Cam shoots me a look, but I just cock an eyebrow.

There is a crazed madman on the loose,

Miracle says,

and—


And I’m sure even
he
needs to sleep before doing all his crazy madman stuff.


I don’t appreciate your attitude, Det. Fallon.


Yeah? Well, Cam has the sign-up sheet for the club if you want to join.


We have about fifty members,

Cam says, voice dead-pan.

The mayor is not amused.

I heard you both were there last night. Bang-up job, guys.


Well, we are city employees. Just following the example of our fearless leader,

I say with a shit-eating grin.

He stalks out of the office, scowl affixed to his face.

Cops.

Cam chuckles and shakes his head.

You are a piece of work.


That guy is such a douche bag.


He’s the mayor.


I didn’t vote for him,

I mutter.


Did someone wake up on the wrong side of the couch? Because if you’re going to be this snotty all day, I’m partnering with Mirabelle.


And have to hear about his gout all day? Are you that desperate to get away from me?


If you’re in full on bitch mode? Hell, yeah. My blood pressure is high enough without your shit raising it.

I sigh.

Fine. I’ll do my pretty pretty princess routine today just for you,

I say, batting my eyelashes.

Can I get you some coffee, Det. Cameron? Your slippers?

Cam sits in the chair across from me, folding his hands in his lap.

That lasted all of a second. Want to talk about it?


Not really.


Come on, save me from gout.
Talk
.

God, I want to tell him. I trust him with my life, I really do, just not my love life in this instance. He’s an amazing detective, so I’ll bet he suspects, but to his credit hasn’t said a word. Another reason for me to feel like a shitty friend.


I just—

Our conversation is cut short. Harry rushes in and Cam and I stand up as if caught being naughty. Usually it’s me and Harry who act like this. I step aside to let Harry get behind his desk.

Morning,

I mumble.


Moring, sir,

Cam says as he passes.

Harry tosses his coat on the rack behind him.

Morning, Detectives.


The mayor is waiting for you,

Cam says.


I know. I spoke to him. Told him to give me five minutes so I can get my bearings. What is this mess?

he says, looking at his desk. He sighs and sits before milling through the paperwork.

Okay, talk fast.


We’ve had over a hundred tips on the hotline,

Cam says.

Jimenez in robbery and about seven unis are going through them. The lab is rushing all evidence from last night, and should have the majority of it done by the afternoon, including everything from the Spencer bombing.


What about the injured guard?

Harry asks.


Made it out of surgery, but is still unconscious. They’ll call when he wakes up. Lost his hand.


Poor guy,

I say.


So, basically, we’re still stuck at square one,

Harry says.


Yeah, and the press is sniffing at our crotch like a dog,

Cam says.

Harry picks up a few of the message slips.

Yeah, I can see that.


Someone even called me at home this morning,

Cam says.


Hope you gave them a piece of your mind,

I say.


About seventy pieces, yes. I would have made you proud.


So, I’m up to date on the bad news. Any good?

Harry asks.


It looks like we have our own private army out there,

I point out.


Good. We’re going to need them. Have the files from the prison arrived?


I don’t know,

Cam says.

Kowalski would.


And where is he?


The nursery.


Get him in here,
now
,

Harry says.

Cam and I exchange a look. With a sigh, Cam stands.

I’ll wake him.

He walks out, shutting the door behind himself.


You okay?

I ask.

Harry drops the messages on his desk.

Overwhelmed. It’ll take me a day just to get through all this crap, let alone all the other crap that will no doubt be shoveled in as the day progresses.


That’s why you have minions,

I remind him.

Let some of the bright, eager young things out there do your scut work. You just boss them around, do the fun stuff, and take all the credit. Why do you think supervillains have them?


You’re very cute when you’re diabolical,

Harry says with a smile.

The door opens again before I can retort. Cam and Kowalski step in, Kowalski obviously not getting a wink of sleep.

Hey, Captain,

Kowalski says with a yawn. They shut the door.


Did the prison files arrive yet?

Harry asks, all business again.


No, boss. They’re holding them for us there.


Fine,

he says.

What about the list of Ryder’s known accomplices?

BOOK: Justice
5.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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