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He caught sight of the door to the second car opening. A beefy figure stepped out, silhouetted against the noonday sun. Caleb could still make out the doughy shape, though, if not the details of the man’s appearance. He groaned.
“On second thought,” he told the first responder, “go ahead and shoot me.”
If the officer was confused by Caleb’s remark, he didn’t have time to decide whether or not to pull his gun. Sergeant Rawlins ambled toward them, managing to look somehow both gleeful and pissed off with just his one ugly face.
“Caleb Barnes,” the older man drawled.
“Rawlins,” Caleb grumbled in reply.
“Scoping out some new digs?” he asked, hitching his utility belt higher. “Gotta have a place to hang your hat after a long day in the unemployment line.”
Caleb pressed his lips together to keep from answering. Starting an argument with Rawlins was ill-advised because what Caleb really wanted to do was punch Rawlins… repeatedly. And though he knew that secretly there were quite a number of guys who would raise a glass to Caleb afterward, it certainly wouldn’t help shore up his unsteady future at RCPD.
Rawlins was scum, though, and no doubt deserved it. Worse than that, he was incompetent scum, which made him not only a disgrace to the badge but a serious detriment at times. Rawlins’ lack of ability to do anything even remotely resembling actual police work had nearly gotten Sarah Sullivan, Shooter’s vulnerable young wife, killed a few years ago. As far as Caleb was concerned, that was a sin that could never be forgiven.
Caleb had been forced to endure seeing Rawlins multiple times a week since then and had been unable to stop Rawlins from recently threatening Tildy, Hawk’s wife, as well as implying that she had been somehow at fault for her own sexual assault last year. There was so much bad blood between the two men that Caleb wasn’t sure even a well-deserved pummeling would be enough. He set his jaw and let the personal remarks slide.
“I’ve got a B and E,” he said, mostly to the other officer who was hovering awkwardly at his vehicle, unsure what to do now that someone more senior had arrived on scene. “He attacked a guest here.”
“A guest?” Rawlins drawled, barely interested. “So how does that involve you?” He glanced over Caleb’s shoulder, then said, “Oh,” with a wide grin suddenly spreading on his dimpled face. Caleb clenched his fists and vowed not to add even more dents to it. He half-turned and saw Izzy emerging from the motel room.
Relieved at having something to actually do, the other officer sprang forward and guided Izzy farther out into the lot, though she needed no help. After being assured that she needed no medical assistance, the officer peeked inside the room. He swung a worried gaze back over his shoulder.
“Um,” he said, in a cracked voice. “Sergeant?”
Rawlins grumbled a bit and made his way to the room. “What?” he snapped, almost pushing Izzy out of the way. She side-stepped him without a word. “You can’t secure one— Oh, Jesus,” he declared. But he didn’t sound alarmed, just irritated. “Well, don’t just stand there,” Rawlins barked. “Cuff him and call a bus.”
“Cuff him?” the officer repeated, glancing dubiously into the room.
Rawlins rolled his eyes. “He’s a suspect, right? So cuff him until the paramedics arrive.”
“Miranda,” Caleb reminded them.
“Oh, sure,” snapped Rawlins. “Let’s dot our ‘i’s… now that you’ve blackened his.”
“B and E and assault,” Caleb prompted the other man.
“Assault,” Rawlins snorted. “Your little afternoon delight looks fine to me,” he declared, raking his gaze over Izzy.
Caleb glowered. “He—”
“Who gives a fuck about him?” Rawlins shot back. “What about us?” he asked. Caleb didn’t quite buy Rawlins’ concern for the other officer. “Now we’re gonna stink of your shit!”
Caleb bristled. Now wasn’t the time or the place to discuss it. Doors on both sides of them were cracking. Multiple pairs of bleary, red eyes blinked out into the harsh afternoon light as the Rainbow’s residents wondered what the cops were here for—or whom. And Caleb was keenly aware that Izzy was just a few feet away, standing silently by her car.
Trying to keep Rawlins focused on the here and now, Caleb said, “I want him booked for assault.”
Rawlins pointed a meaty finger at him. “You’re lucky we don’t drag you downtown and book you for assault!” he snarled. “Because before this asshole goes anywhere near a police station, we’re going to have to swing by the county hospital. The last thing you need—that any of us needs—is another Officer-Involved Shitstorm brought on by you!”
“I’m off duty!”
“No, you’re suspended is what you are, until you’re cleared of misconduct! Which, as I hear it, isn’t going so well for you right now. And instead of keeping your goddamn head down while you’re under investigation, you follow Little Miss Hotpants to a motel room where you beat down yet another suspect. This one wasn’t even armed! Boy, you’ve dug this shithole so deep you may as well lie down in it and let the boys from Internal Affairs bury you.” Rawlins started for his cruiser but turned to look back at Caleb. “I think we’ve all had enough of your mommy issues, Barnes,” he said loudly. Caleb grit his teeth and watched the older man waddle to his car. When he turned, he saw Izzy standing alone, the other officer having abandoned taking her statement so that he could stand helplessly beside the bleeding scumbag lying prone across the backseat of the police cruiser, as though worrying over him was going to help in any way.
