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It would be a shame to see him go. Charlie knew things. Remembered things from days gone by. He was forty-nine or fifty now. He’d worked the TSP in this region since his early twenties. Charlie was talking about working on rental properties with his lady after his retirement. Or helping his sister raise angora bunnies or something completely weird like that. Charlie and his Rory and his babies were going to spend almost every single day together, looking at paint samples and planting shrubs or something.
Charlie was determined to put his days with the TSP behind him.
Charlie had been there for the heyday of the corruption. Had seen it all. Jarrod had always wanted to pick his brain about that. “Yeah, hasn’t happened yet. Now the lack of thinking—I’m starting to believe I’m getting good at that little trick.”
He’d done something incredibly stupid. No denying that now.
He never should have kissed that woman.
And sitting there at his desk, pretending to go over damned cold case reports from three damned months ago—how a damned murder case could go that cold that fast was something he didn’t understand at all, but he was going to catch Rodriguez when he got a chance for some clarification—wasn’t doing a damned thing for his disposition either.
This Haldyn case couldn’t end fast enough for him. Then things could get back to normal.
In the meantime, Heather had texted. Told him she needed to talk to him soon. Jarrod better make that soon…soon. Or she’d start slinging poison darts at his head again.
The woman was dangerous like that.
18
He didn’t know why he did it, but Sol followed Heather home after her shift ended. He’d been hanging around the bullpen. Not like he had much else to do now. He’d heard the scuttle around the post. He’d been curious.
She was taking on the Handley Barratt case now.
Since that bastard had been responsible for rescuing little Hallie from that van and all. Sol couldn’t believe the coincidence of that, but he was glad that billionaire had been there when Hallie had needed his help and everything.
Sol snorted at that. He’d been the one to jerk the damned van into the ditch. Barratt’s damned rich man SUV hadn’t hit them that hard. Sol had seen the car coming at them with plenty of time to get out of the way if he’d wanted.
He’d just figured it was Erickson or something.
He’d recognized the guy on the streets that day.
Sol hadn’t wanted little Hallie to be hurt. Truth be told, he didn’t want Heather out there every day where she could be hurt either. Chasing that wily bastard Handley Barratt would keep Heather occupied and off the damned street for a while. Sol didn’t have a problem with that.
He wanted Heather where she was safe, after all.
Even if the pig shits around him were just as damned dangerous as anyone Heather would encounter on the streets. Sol knew her schedule, for the most part. And he did the schedule for his own team. Made it easier for him to keep an eye on her when she was out there, over the last few days and all.
What else was he going to do with his time?
Benefit of being the man in charge of MC: Assault division. He was kept a bit busier than those three boys in Homicide. Too damned many assaults in the city. Far, far more assaults than murder. He was trying to get the number of cases cut down now. Make a difference and all somehow.
He was decent enough that he’d got that position when it was created. Maybe he suspected some of the boys in Wichita Falls had pushed for him, but he had the job. He was going to do what he could.
Damned paper pusher now, but he served a purpose.
Not that it mattered one damned bit.
Heather turned her personal vehicle, one of those little mom-type SUVs. It was big enough for her to drive those baby girls of hers around in, while still getting the best gas mileage, and didn’t cost too much. He suspected money was tight for her—single mom and all.
Heather didn’t make much, Sol was damned certain of that. He’d heard the scuttle about how she lived with that oldest sister of hers in the rich man’s land of Hughes Heights. Her sister was that beautiful nurse Eastman had wanted.
Gossip said her little sister down in Forensics lived there with them, too. All those Coleson girls lived together and split the bills and such. There had been a spec piece or two on them in the Snotty Garlic, he thought. Someone liked to leave that damned tabloid, still printed on actual newsprint, in the break room at times.
He’d read it. Especially when it talked about Colesons.
There had been a photo of that nurse sister on the front. He’d been curious. Almost all of them living in a big house in Hughes Heights. Like nine or ten women, from a teenager all the way up to that nurse who was a few years younger than Sol.
Extremely beautiful women. All living in one place. He liked that. Sisters could take care of each other and everything. He wished…he wished he’d had more than one kid. It would have been nice for Maribeth to have had a built in friend like that.
