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Chapter Eight
Weary, slouched at the bar in a local drinking establishment at the end of twelve frustrating non-stop hours of work, Sloan’s attention became riveted on his friend.
“You should have seen her, Sloan. Cool as a cucumber. Bullets flying and she didn’t even flinch. Christ, Nigel had worked his way behind the barriers as soon as we arrived and she’d moved right up in front of me, like you used to. Craziest damn thing I ever saw.”
“She’s got balls, so what. Are there any brains working at the top end? Or is she a hotshot show-off? We’ve seen them before. They get themselves and other people killed.”
“No, she’s not like that. Used common-sense when she talked that idiot down—had it settled. If he hadn’t thrown the gun so it went off accidently, we’d have been in there without any casualties. As it was, her tactics were pretty to watch and she moves like a warrior.”
Sloan eyeballed his old partner. He couldn’t stop the knowing grin that plastered itself over his face. “I gather you’ve made your play already and it didn’t go over. That’s not like you.”
Dan picked up the cold bottle of Koko Brown beer to rub it over his forehead. Then he did the sideways glance he always used when embarrassed. “Yeah, well I wasn’t the only one. She’s made it pretty clear she’s not interested. Korver took it personally, says she’s a lesbian.”
“Korver would. His tiny brain couldn’t visualize anyone smart enough to turn him down.”
Sloan scratched at the beard that always appeared halfway through the day. By nightfall, it shadowed his face. Sensing his partner’s unease, he searched Don’s brown-eyed gaze and saw the hard-jawed cop he’d fought beside through many battles return his stare. “You wanted me to take this assignment. It matters to you, I can tell. I just don’t know why.”
After another gulp at the bottle, Don put his elbow on the bar and leaned his head on his palm. “Last weekend at the street barbecue you invited me to, Sam Aman sat with me for a while. He’s a proud man, and the dude had tears in his eyes watching his family interact with everyone else, being accepted as if they belonged.”
“He’s a softie.”
“I know.” Don grinned at Sloan. “Your cul-de-sac is a little United Nations. Your next-door neighbors, the Newmans, are black like me, and the rest are a mixture of white families, Chinese and interracial Hawaiian. It’s kinda nice to see everyone being friends, the kids all playing together and the pot-luck food tables filled with such a variety.”
“Yeah, yeah, get to the point. You planned for me to do this because…?”
“Because I don’t want to see that family get hurt. Sure there’s enough circumstantial evidence to flag Sam and Janna and you’ll hear it all, but it’s not enough to make any arrests or convict them. Far from it.”
“So, I’m to prove they’re innocent rather than find confirmation of their guilt.”
“I just hope you find the truth.”
“Hey, fuckie, you’re gonna ride me on this one, aren’t you?”
The stubborn lines around Don’s mouth appeared. “What do you think?”
“I think I’m screwed.”
