Alpha Warrior

“Until now,” Koval said.

Nick hadn’t made the family connection until that moment, but that explained a few things, like her skill in removing the safety lock on a weapon and her ease in feeding a shell into the chamber of his short-barreled shotgun.

“Lately, I’ve been working very long hours,” Drew said.

Koval nodded. “I know. Right now, you’re training to take over for our records clerk, who’s about to go on an extended leave of absence. You and Beth know each other, so I imagine that gave you the inside track.”

“No, sir,” she snapped. “I got the job on my own merit. In addition to my degree, I have three IT courses under my belt. I was the most qualified person available.”

Koval gave her one of his famous stares. They’d been known to intimidate all but the most hardened of criminals, but Drew met his gaze with an unflinching one of her own, and held it.

Nick had trouble biting back a grin. He liked this woman more with each passing second.

“I want you to come down to the station and look through our photo arrays. See if anyone there looks like your mall stalker,” Koval said.

“Right now?” she asked, then pointed to her damaged car.

“Perhaps Detective Blacksheep can give you a ride,” Koval said, and glanced at Nick, who nodded.

“Before I go, I’d like to get my purse. It’s still on the front seat,” Drew said. “No one touched it, or even got near it, except me.”

“Your sedan’s part of the crime scene, so it’ll be towed in as evidence. But one of our officers can retrieve your handbag for you,” Koval said.

They waited as Koval spoke to a member of the crime scene team. The tech then walked over to her car and brought out her big tote. The stubby, barrel-chested man carried her purse like a grocery bag instead of by the handles, and handed it to her without comment.

“Thank you,” Drew said.

The man nodded, obviously glad to have it out of his hands.

Drew walked with Nick back to his Jeep. She’d never been the kind to be overly affected by a guy’s looks, yet there was something about Nick that made her a little crazy inside. Maybe it was that cold, hard gaze that softened, and even warmed, when he looked at her, or that rugged masculinity that assured her she was safe by his side.

She shook her head, trying to unscramble her thinking. She was confusing feelings of relief and gratitude with…something else. Or maybe she was simply trying to distract herself from the horrible incident she’d lived through. She’d never been impressed by macho men, and after a lifetime of living with cops, she definitely didn’t date them.

Stopping by the outer edge of the yellow crime-scene tape strung around the perimeter, Drew glanced back at her car. “Do you think anyone would mind if I also took the book bag in the backseat? The two who came after me never touched that either.”

“What’s so important about those books?” he asked.

“They’re reference manuals that belong to the police department, and I don’t want to leave them in the impound lot. Without those, I can’t complete my training.”

“Let me consult the crime-scene team leader.” Moments later, Nick returned holding a heavy nylon backpack and handed it to her. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She slung the straps over her shoulder and once again fell into step beside him.

They soon reached his Jeep and got on the road. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her shudder. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not. I’m scared. I still don’t know if I was a target of opportunity or their intended victim. I also don’t know when—or if—they’ll come back and try again,” she said, her voice rising an octave.

“You really don’t have anything to worry about. Your uncle has a lot of clout with our department, and I’m pretty sure that he’ll insist the new chief provide you with protection until we know more about what happened tonight. The fact that you’re Earl Simmons’s niece puts an entirely new spin on things. What happened to you tonight may be linked to him and something he did as a police officer years ago. Revenge can simmer for a long time.”

“But logically, if they wanted to get at my uncle, wouldn’t they have gone after my aunt instead of me?”

“Maybe you were more available. Or it could have all been just a matter of timing.”

Drew considered it, then shook her head. “Your answer doesn’t feel right to me.”

“It doesn’t—what?”

“Call it intuition if you want, but I trust my instincts. They’ve always been reliable.”

He wasn’t a big believer in instincts—a woman’s or a man’s—but sometimes what people attributed to instinct was nothing more than the product of subconscious observations. “So what do those vibes tell you now?”

“That my troubles are just beginning,” she whispered.

“Evil is never easy to face down, but you’re doing just fine. Those men are nursing some bad bruises by now. Not bad for a librarian,” he said, with an easy smile.

Chapter Three

While Drew looked through the mug shots, Nick reported to Chief Franklin’s office. Captain Wright, Nick’s immediate supervisor, was already there.

“I got an earful from Earl Simmons,” Chief Franklin said, muttering an oath. “He still monitors police calls and knew what went down minutes after it happened. He doesn’t seem to get the fact that he’s not police chief anymore. If that bullet hadn’t put him on the disabled list, there’s no way that man would have retired.”

“What can you tell us about tonight’s incident, Nick?” Wright asked.

Nick gave them the facts, then added a couple of his own theories regarding possible motives. “Koval’s just getting started with the investigation, but he’s like a pit bull when it comes to cracking a case. He won’t back off until he’s got the answers he needs.”

“All right then, let’s get back to the original reason you were coming in tonight—your hearing,” Chief Franklin said. “The rep from the officer’s association is waiting for us in the conference room, and so’s the civilian lodging the complaint—Ray Owens. He’s threatening to sue the department and you personally.”

“I stand behind my actions. They were entirely within department guidelines. I’ve done nothing wrong,” Nick said.

“All right. Let’s get to it then.” Chief Franklin led the way out of his office and down the hall.

When Captain Wright paused at one of the rooms to speak to another officer on duty, Nick slowed his pace. He didn’t want to go into the conference room until everyone was there.

As he waited, Owens came up, blocking his way.

“Say goodbye to your career, hotshot. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be lucky to get a job mopping the restrooms,” he said, his voice loud enough for only Nick to hear.

“Get out of my face,” Nick growled.

“And if I don’t, then what? You’ll take a swing? Go ahead. We’ve got a roomful of witnesses,” he said, jabbing Nick in the chest with his fingertip.

Nick grabbed Owens’s index finger and bent it back enough for the man’s eyes to water.

Owens staggered back, bumping into the doorjamb, and looked around quickly for a witness, but it was fruitless. Everyone was pretending to be looking elsewhere—except for a man in an expensive business suit. Nick guessed he was the wife beater’s attorney. His word wouldn’t carry very far in this gathering.

Drew, who’d come down the hall along with her uncle, stood back as former chief Earl Simmons stepped up. Giving Owens a look of pure contempt, he glanced over at Nick. “I caught all that, if you need a witness, Detective Blacksheep.”

Owens glared at Earl.

“Let’s just get this over with, Ray,” Della Owens said, interrupting the face-off by taking her husband’s arm and leading him into the conference room.

Nick glanced back at Drew before going into the room. She smiled and gave him an encouraging thumbs-up, signaling him that she’d also seen enough to know the truth.

DREW TOOK A SEAT IN THE staff office, her uncle Earl on one side, Beth Michaels on the other. Beth had been at the station when she’d heard about the attempted kidnaping, and had decided to stay, knowing Drew would be coming in. Beth had custody of the photo arrays—the mug files—mostly computer images these days.

“Ray Owens is an idiot,” Beth said. “Even if Della refuses to defend herself, as an officer of the law, Nick had to step in.”

“So what happens now?” Drew asked, watching the officer on duty confronting the reporters in the front lobby.

“Chief Franklin will do what’s right for the department, but Owens has a lot of pull in this town, and the best friends money can buy. He and I have had our own run-ins. I still say the reason he beat my firm out of a construction contract with the state was because he had inside information.”

Earl looked directly at his niece. “Right now, you’ve got other, more immediate problems. You have to move back in with Minnie and me until we know it’s safe for you to be on your own.”

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I can’t bring that danger home to you and Aunt Minnie.”

“I can protect you both,” Earl said, his expression hard, his voice flat.

Though he wasn’t the department’s chief anymore, that take-charge attitude still clung to him. Giving orders came as naturally to him as it had to her dad. She thought back to the days when her father had been alive. She’d always followed his orders. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. Then, after her parents’ death, she’d gone to live with her uncle, who’d also ruled his home imperiously and absolutely. But she was an adult now, and would decide which course was right for her. Uncle Earl missed police work and wanted to be part of the fight, but she wouldn’t expose her aunt to the dangers she was facing.

Other officers soon came into the common area, often labeled the bullpen, and Drew’s uncle walked away to talk to old friends.

Hearing loud voices coming from the conference room, Beth glanced over at the closed door. “I will never understand why Della puts up with that creep.”

“All Nick did was defend the victim of an abusive husband. How did that ever get turned into a charge of police harassment?” Drew asked.

“Della changed her story. She’s now saying that she fell down. Without her testimony, and no witnesses to what actually happened, at least inside their residence, Nick’s the fall guy.”

“Owens is purposely trying to put the department on the defensive, hoping to distort the truth,” Drew said.

“Exactly. Since that’s the umpteenth call our officers have answered at Owens’s house, Ray’s only way out these days is to claim police harassment. But everyone knows the truth, so the only option Owens really has is to cut a deal of some kind.”

The door to the conference room opened and Nick came out alone.

Earl Simmons went to meet Nick just as Owens and his wife came out. With Ray in the lead, the pair hurried toward the exit. Della’s head remained down and she avoided eye contact with anyone.

Chief Franklin stepped out of the room next, and joined Nick. “You’re reinstated, Detective Blacksheep,” he said. “Pick up your service weapon and badge from the duty officer and get the MDT back in your vehicle,” he said, meaning the mobile dispatch terminal computer officers carried.

“How’s this really going down on paper?” Nick asked the chief.

“Mr. Owens will probably never admit spousal abuse, but he’s dropped his charges against you and the department and has agreed to enter anger management and couples counseling. It’s a win all around,” he said.

“I’m glad that you convinced your old friend to see reason,” Earl said to Franklin. Though he’d deliberately kept his tone casual, the point had been made. “But you’ve still got another problem—me. My niece needs police protection.”

Chief Franklin crossed his arms across his chest. “You’re assuming they’ll go after her again, Earl, and there’s no proof of that. I’m not sure I can spare any of my officers on speculation alone.”

“You didn’t have a manpower problem when you put your best detective on suspension,” Earl said, cocking his head toward Nick. “That suggests you can spare him again.”

Chief Franklin glanced toward the office area, catching Koval’s attention. “What’s your take, Harry?”

“Some protection seems appropriate,” Koval said. “The way things went down indicates a certain level of planning.”

Drew glanced around the room. She wouldn’t have minded some extra patrols around her apartment, and maybe someone who’d drop by—often—but she didn’t like being discussed as if her right to decide for herself had suddenly vanished. That’s the way it had been most of her life, but she was on her own now and didn’t have to take orders from anyone.

She was about to make her wishes known in no uncertain terms, when Captain Wright suddenly whispered something in the chief’s ear.

A moment later the chief looked up at her, then at Nick. “Detective Blacksheep, you’ve had more than your share of publicity lately. Photos were taken of you tonight by those reporters outside the building, and they’re probably already on the Internet and will be in the local paper by morning. Since you’ve become a high-profile officer, your undercover assignments are effectively over, so I’m assigning you to protect Drew Simmons until further notice. You’ll report to Detective Koval and Captain Wright. They’ll update me.”

“Chief, you can’t pull me off my cases,” Nick protested. “I’m getting close to identifying Coyote. I’ve got a photo to work with now, so it’s just a matter of time before I can get his real name, and maybe set up a sting. Let me see this one through, otherwise months of work will be lost.”

“You have your orders. Turn over your active case files, photos and all, to Detective Koval. He’ll reassign them to other detectives.”

“Wait one darned minute,” Drew said, finally managing to get a word in. “I have a say in this, too, and there’s no way I’m going into protective custody and hiding out. I’m in the middle of training for a job with this department and I need to finish what I’ve started. I support myself, and that means I need to work.”

Earl narrowed his eyes at her, then in a voice that left no doubt he was issuing a direct order, told her, “Take the protection, Drew.”

“Your job will be held for you,” Chief Franklin added, and looked at Beth, who nodded.

“Keep the reference materials and your laptop, and you can study away from the office,” Beth said.

“For the time being, I see no reason why you can’t come to work, too,” Chief Franklin added. “There’s no safer place for you than this station. Detective Blacksheep can work out the particulars for you.”

“Ms. Simmons will need a place to stay starting tonight,” Nick said.

“Accompany her to her residence so she can pick up some essentials, then take her to one of our safe houses,” Franklin said.

Drew fought hard to stay calm. She didn’t want to be placed in anyone’s care. Yet, to turn down police protection would mean risking another encounter with the men who’d come after her.

She took a deep breath. If she had to accept help, then it would be on her own terms. She’d take responsibility for herself and demand a say in every decision that affected her. Not that Nick would make that easy. He was obviously strong-willed—but so was she.

NICK LED DREW ACROSS the bullpen and picked up his badge and handgun from Captain Wright.

Nick then went to his bullpen work station and began transferring his case files to Koval’s network folder. “I could have closed this gun-running case if I’d been given just a little more time,” he said, and muttered an oath.

“This is no picnic for either of us,” Drew answered, putting on a borrowed coat. “But maybe this will be over soon. Detective Koval might find some answers after he does a little more digging.” Seeing the open skepticism on Nick’s face, she added, “But you don’t think so, do you?”

“Unless it’s an ex-boyfriend stalker, cases like these can often take weeks—or months,” he said, then finished transferring the electronic files to Koval. Taking folders containing the hard copies from his bottom drawer, he strode over to Koval’s desk and dropped them down with a thump. “My files and my notes. Now you’ve got everything.”

“You said you were close to identifying the arms dealer supplying those cartels south of the border. Just how close are you?” Koval pressed.

“I had a contact who was going to set up a buy. If the supplier matched the photo of The Coyote we’ve got on file, I was set to take him down. My contact’s name is on the file, but he won’t deal with anyone he doesn’t know. I spent months getting him to trust me.”

“Maybe another detective can get in using your name.”

Nick shook his head. “Too dangerous. Whoever takes over the case will need to build some street cred and work their way in.”

Returning to Drew’s side, Nick led her to the side door. “From this point on, you’re going to do exactly as I say,” he snapped. “Follow my orders and we’ll both stay alive.”

“No problem—just as long as I happen to agree with what you’re saying.”

“My job’s to make sure nobody snatches you, or worse. If I tell you to do something, do it.”

It was that same no-negotiation tone her father and uncle had been famous for at home, and it made her bristle. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at him. “We have something in common, Detective Blacksheep. I want to stay alive, and you want to keep me that way. But I won’t be treated like an idiot. We’ll work together to accomplish our mutual goal, but I’m not your subordinate, and never will be. Am I clear?”

“Perfectly. But here’s the thing. When people are coming at you with fists or guns, there’s no time for discussions,” he said, glaring at her. “I’m trained to deal with life-and-death situations. You’re not. If you want to live, do as you’re told.”

“I know the difference between an emergency and an insufferable ego. Do you?”

He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.

She took a calming breath. “I get why you’re angry, but don’t take your frustrations out on me. There are a lot of women who’d probably be thrilled to let you take charge and follow in your footsteps, but I’m not one of them.”

Nick ran an exasperated hand through his hair. So much for the sweet young thing he’d wanted to comfort. A day that had started off wrong was getting worse by the second.

“Wait right here—inside the building and away from the front entrance. I’m going to get my Jeep.” It hadn’t been a request, but he could see her weighing her options. “You want to avoid becoming an open target.”

Accepting the logic, she nodded. “I tend to react very badly to people who give me orders, so think of me as an intelligent asset, not just an added responsibility.”

“Stay here,” Nick repeated, then hurried to where he’d left his Jeep. Unfortunately, he learned from one of the mechanics that his MDT had been sent to the shop to have the power supply replaced, so he’d have to do without it until a spare was located. He could have taken one of the department’s unmarked cars, but they were all easily recognizable fleet vehicles.

Five minutes later they were headed west on Central Avenue, away from the city center. Pulling up to a stoplight, Nick looked around, always on alert mode while a sitting target.

“The arms dealer case sounded interesting. That Coyote person, do you think he lives in Three Rivers?” Drew asked, mostly to make conversation.

“I can’t talk about an ongoing investigation,” he said. “Especially someone else’s.”

“Are you going to stay in this foul mood forever?” she countered. “For the record, if I’d been given a choice, I wouldn’t have chosen you either.”

That was a first. He’d never had much of a problem with women, except for the ones who wanted a “relationship.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. If you’d had your choice, who would you have chosen? That crime-scene tech who went queasy carrying your purse? Or maybe you would have rather had by-the-book Koval.”

“Actually, Nick, I wouldn’t have picked a person at all. I’d have chosen a forty-five Colt, like my father carried, and found someone who could teach me how to use it.”

He laughed out loud. “If it’s any consolation, my nine millimeter SIG Sauer and I will be right by your side.”

Drew adjusted her shoulder belt, then slipped her hands under her thighs. She hadn’t been able to stop shaking since they’d left the station. “Something’s not right,” she said, looking through the rear window, then out the side mirror.

“What’s up? Do you see something?”

“No, but I’m getting a very bad feeling—the creepy crawlies, you know?”

Nick glanced in the rearview mirror, and as he did, a sedan came out of a side street and drove up slowly. The driver eased forward, then casually pulled up beside them in the left-hand lane.

Nick glanced at the driver, but all he saw was a dark cap pulled low over the man’s face. The man leaned over toward the open passenger-side window as if about to ask directions, then suddenly raised a pistol. “Stay away from Drew!” he yelled.

Nick stomped on the gas pedal at the same time he shoved Drew down on the seat. The Jeep roared into the intersection just as the man fired. Nick felt a thud behind his back as he swerved to his left, cutting off the shooter’s car, then shifted gears and floored the Jeep.

Drew raised up slightly to look in her side mirror. “He’s still back there, trying to come up on my side now.”

“Stay down!” Nick pumped the brakes, then drew his handgun and looked to his right, ready to fire if the shooter pulled up even.

As the shooter’s car swung wide left, crossing the center line, Nick also cut left, sliding around the corner and taking the cross street.

Slamming on the brakes this time, Nick pulled a one-eighty, sliding completely around in the road. Shifting down, he floored the pedal again and raced back to the intersection.

“Now we’re on your tail,” he muttered, concentrating on his next move.

The sedan had more horsepower than his Jeep and was pulling away. Steering with his left hand, Nick called police dispatch as he continued pursuit right into the warehouse district.

“We’re going to lose him,” Drew shouted, trying hard to keep the fleeing car in sight.

“No way.” Nick shifted down.

The sedan took another right and Nick went after it, brushing a metal trash can that was spinning like a top after being struck by the sedan.

“Which way did he go?” Drew asked, when they reached the next street.

Nick screeched to a stop. “There,” he pointed.

The city’s largest municipal lot was straight ahead. Nick whipped out into the street and crossed over to the lot entrance.

An exit across the parking area showed at least three pairs of taillights going out.

“He’s going out the other side,” Drew said. “Can you back up and circle around?” Although she was terrified of actually catching up to the man, she was even more afraid of losing him.

Nick checked the mirror. A big pickup was now pulling out of a slot behind him. They were trapped in place.

“He’s gone,” Drew said, biting back tears of frustration. “We’ll never catch up now.”

Nick made the call to the station and put out an ATL, an attempt to locate. “You knew we were in trouble even before the shooter’s car came into view. What keyed you to that?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve learned never to ignore a feeling of impending danger.” She jammed her hands into her coat, needing the warmth—inside and out.

Silence stretched out between them, and, noting the pallor of her face, he continued in a gentler voice. “For now, the man’s gone and it’s over. I doubt we’ll get anywhere with that ATL. Based on past experiences, I’m betting that the car was probably stolen and will turn up abandoned somewhere, wiped clean of prints or destroyed by fire.”

“But something odd’s going on. There was only one guy in that car, not two like before. If both of them had come at us, they would have had a better chance to…kill us,” she added in a strangled voice. “So what happened to the other man?”