Valerie Hansen

The Rookie's Assignment


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but not bad. Once you reach the river, keep off the ice just in case it’s starting to melt.”

       Nick might have rolled his eyes at her if she hadn’t looked so apprehensive. Truth to tell, he’d been skating on figurative thin ice ever since he’d taken that first IA assignment and had begun to seek out and expose crooked cops—the kind who gave the whole profession a bad name.

       “I know enough to keep from breaking through the ice,” he said wryly.

       “Sorry. Be careful, okay?”

       “I will.” He pointed back up at the living area they had just passed through. “Turn on a light in there so it looks like I’m making myself at home, then go back out to the patrol car and be ready for a pursuit if it comes to that.”

       “Gotcha.” She reached for her belt, unclipped a small leather case and handed it to him. “Here. There’s a base radio in the car so you can take mine.”

       “Thanks. Call me if he makes the slightest move. And don’t look so grim. I won’t get lost.”

       “See that you don’t.”

       Glad that he’d thought to order her back to the SUV where she’d be safe, he clipped the handheld radio to his belt and started off at a jog. The way he saw it, the less Keira was exposed to added risk, the better he’d feel.

       The thought of what her reaction would be if he actually said as much made him smile. Admittedly, his initial judgment of her capabilities had been too low but she was still far too green to be considered reliable, at least in his professional opinion. Many a rookie had learned the hard way that real life on the streets wasn’t the same as acing tests in a classroom. Keira Fitzgerald was one cop he wanted to see get her seasoning without being hurt along the way.

       Or disillusioned, he added. He didn’t know what she’d do if her brother Charles turned out to be a murderer.

       Racing back up the stairs and into the living room, Keira flipped a light switch on the wall and raised the blinds so any observer would be sure to notice occupancy. Using the side of her fist she wiped condensation off the window pane and peered out.

       The tan truck remained parked where it had been, still puffing exhaust. What she couldn’t see was whether or not the driver had stayed behind the wheel. That didn’t really matter. If Nick radioed for help, and she prayed he wouldn’t have to, she’d be back in the patrol car, waiting and watching, just as he’d ordered.

       Checking the readiness of her Glock she holstered it and headed for the street. The trick was to appear nonchalant in case she was being watched. Part of her kept insisting she was being silly while the part that had listened to Nick’s warnings shivered and surreptitiously scanned her surroundings.

       Her jaw dropped when she noticed a crouching figure working his way closer, moving from shrub to shrub in nearby yards. Her initial reaction provided a jolt of adrenaline. Then, she realized who and what she was seeing.

      Nick? It was him! The man must have run all the way in spite of the slippery riverbanks. And, judging by the darker-looking knees and ankles of his uniform, he hadn’t made the trip without getting wet.

       Proceeding slowly and taking extra care to avoid staring at Nick, Keira rounded the patrol car and started to open the driver’s door.

       In the distance a motor revved. The tan truck they’d been watching was not moving but a different one, a slightly lighter-colored one, was coming toward them from the opposite direction.

       Keira reached for her belt out of habit, intending to alert Nick. Of course, there was no radio clipped there. She’d given it to him because he hadn’t picked one up for himself at the station.

       Muttering to herself she quickly slid into the SUV and picked up the mike. He didn’t have a call sign so she simply used his name. “Nick. Come in.”

       Although he was now hidden from her sight she peered out at the area where she’d last seen him and tried again. “Delfino. Do you copy?”

       Still no reply. The hair at the nape of Keira’s neck prickled. Where could he be? Why wasn’t he answering? Only moments ago he’d been working his way closer, so what was keeping him from using his radio? Had something bad happened to him or was he simply observing radio silence because of his present position?

       If she spent too much time trying to reach Nick or called him on a different frequency, their dispatcher would surely get involved. Right now, that was the last thing she wanted.

       In Keira’s view, this incident with the truck was probably either a simple case of mistaken identity or her new partner was making a mountain out of a molehill. Being around a guy like him was going to take some getting used to. What a pity he was so uptight all the time. Life couldn’t be much fun when he never relaxed.

       And speaking of relaxing, she wasn’t going to be able to dial back her own anxiety until her partner responded. She keyed the mike again. “Delfino? Come in?”

       What she wanted to do was add, “Don’t make me come out there and get you,” like a mother chiding an unmanageable child, but she restrained herself. He’d be fine. He was a seasoned detective. And, after all, this was Fitzgerald Bay.

       Clouds of Nick’s breath condensed in the icy air as he panted, hunched over, hands resting on his knees. A dog barked in the background. Gulls circled and called in the cloudy, grayish sky, concentrating most of their attention on the wharf and the shoreline.

       The driveway where he’d last spotted the truck was only a few houses away. To his left was the condo and the police vehicle where Keira waited. So far, so good.

       Dropping into a crouch he began to work his way closer to the idling tan truck. Almost there.

       Suddenly, the engine roared. Rear tires spinning in the partially melted snow threw icy, gray rooster tails off both sides.

       Nick dodged behind the trunk of a tree, peering out in time to see the truck gain traction and slew into the street. It was too late to identify the driver or get even a glimpse of the rear license plate.

       His shoulders slumped. Looking toward Keira he saw her standing beside the open door of the SUV and waving something. Nick knew it was the microphone to the police radio because the spiraling black cord stood out against the vehicle’s white door panel.

       Confused, he checked the handheld unit she’d given him when they’d split up. Oops. He’d meant to switch it to vibrate so it wouldn’t sound off when he was sneaking up on the truck and he’d apparently turned it all the way off, instead.

       Nick displayed it and gave an exaggerated shrug as he approached her. “Sorry.”

       “You should be. I was about to call out the marines.” She gestured in the direction the truck had gone. “So, did you get a good look at him?”

       “No. How about you?”

       “Me? I was cooling my heels just like you’d ordered. I did try to radio when I spotted a similar truck.” She was checking the area as she spoke. “It’s long gone now.”

       “Well, that’s that.”

       He was starting to get into the passenger side of the SUV when a loud motor caught his attention. He paused and pointed. “You mean that truck?”

       “Where? I don’t see…” Keira put one foot inside the car and stepped up to gain a higher vantage point, using the open door for balance.

       “Get in!” Nick shouted.

       Although Keira did lean down and look at him to ask, “Why?” she didn’t slide into place behind the wheel the way he’d hoped she would.

       There was no time to argue. Or to explain. He grabbed a fistful of her jacket and yanked, pulling her off her feet and getting most of her inside with him before the second truck raced past and clipped the half-open door.

       Keira yelped.