12. Luke
Luke
The wheels of my office chair dragged across the floor, no longer spinning the way they should, as I pulled back from my desk.
After a few days off, today was my first shift back after talking to Wes on Sunday evening.
Thoughts of the case—and the implications it would mean for our department if Wes was right—rolled around in my head nonstop.
I needed an inside man of my own to help me collect information since I was often on patrol duty or engaged in the community somewhere. Or an inside woman, as I decided.
I spun toward Scarlett’s desk, and all thoughts about the case, all thoughts at all, evaporated. Scarlett was bent over her desk, her painted-on jeans hugging her ass as it perched in the air. My mouth went dry at the sight of her. My feet took me over to her on their own accord.
“You okay over here?” My voice was rough, like it was the first time I had spoken out loud in a decade.
Her gorgeous red curls were held back in a ponytail rather than the tight bun she usually wore it in at work.
She flicked her hair to the side as she turned to look at me.
Her bright blue eyes held mine. She parted her lips as if to talk, and my gaze zeroed in on them before bouncing back up to her eyes.
“My monitor was flickering, so I went to unplug it and plug it back in, but I dropped the cord. Now I can’t reach it.” She grunted that last part as she stretched her body tighter to her desk to give her more reach.
Images of me behind her flashed through my head. Her ass pressed into my groin as I laid her out beneath me. Blood ran south, and I blinked the images away, swallowing them down before a situation could arise—or rise—in my uniformed pants.
“I got it.” I waited until she was upright again and had moved away before I stepped up to the desk. I found the cord and pulled it back to the monitor, replugging it into the port.
“Thanks.” Her smile was genuine and entirely friendly.
Just friendly. I had no idea what had gotten into me lately where Scarlett was concerned.
She and I were friends—just like we had been for years—but ever since the divorce process started, or maybe since Seb put the idea in my head that day at his shop, I could picture a very different type of relationship with her.
One where clothes were optional. She didn’t seem to feel the same way based on the way she was looking at me, the way she always had—as friends.
Fuck off, Wilder. Get your head out of the gutter. There are more important things going on right now than your fantasies with one of your best friends.
I spun her chair around to her, inviting her to sit. “Question for you… Remember when Wes first started investigating, and you said you wanted to help?”
“Yeah. I remember.” She took her seat and spun herself back to face me. Her brow furrowed, creating a cute little crinkle in her forehead. It took everything I had to not reach out and smooth it away for her.
“I talked to Wes the other day, after dinner at my dad’s.
Something doesn’t add up, Letty. I told Wes that I would get him as much info on the case as possible, without letting anyone else know, especially not Monroe,” I said, my eyes darting to his empty desk.
Scarlett’s eyes held compassion, but a hint of disbelief was still evident.
I rushed to add, “Not because of everything with Jules. Well, not entirely. But he did show his true character, and it isn’t pretty.
And no one else knows this case, is as close to this case as he is, except for me.
And I know I handled everything by the book. ”
“Okay.” She nodded. “What do you need from me?”
“I can’t get what I need while everyone is still around the station.
I’m already late getting out to my patrol now.
” I looked around again at the four other people milling about.
Captain Langston was in his office with his door open.
Amy Lingard’s office was on the other side of the space, where she was sitting at her desk, ready and available if anyone needed HR assistance.
Lieutenant Pete Rebello and Officer Leanne Shapiro were chatting by the front desk.
“I’ll get it. No one pays attention to what I’m doing anyway. I’m not an officer or a lieutenant. I’m just the dispatcher.”
“You’re not just anything.” My voice came out harsher than I expected. I cleared my throat before continuing. “If you think you can make a copy of the case file without anyone seeing you… we have to keep this under wraps.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get it.”
“You’re the best, Letty.” My cheek pulled up in a grin. My gaze caught on her returning smile, on her pretty lips, a peek of her tongue darting out to wet them. I shifted my eyes away before she could notice.
I went back to my desk to collect my things before hitting the streets, including my notebook with my interview notes from the Karrigan case.
It usually stayed locked in my desk drawer, but of all things, carrying a notebook around was the least suspicious.
Unlocking my cell, I brought up my text chain with Wes.
Me: I have my notes from the Karrigan case. Scarlett’s going to try to make a copy of the case file after everyone else is gone. If she can get it, I’ll get it over to you.
Wes: Good.
I held back my eye roll, but just barely. It wasn’t like he could see me anyway.
“Wilder,” Captain called from his doorway.
“Sorry, Cap. I had some things to finish up here. I’m heading out now.” I was supposed to be on patrol duty thirty minutes ago. We weren’t the most formal department in a lot of things, but Chief Williams and Captain Langston still tried to run a tight ship, or so I thought.
“Got a minute?” he asked.
“Sure.” I put my notebook in my back pocket and followed him into his office.
He shut the door behind me. Considering there were no windows in his office, it was surprisingly bright, if a little cramped.
The L-shaped desk took up a good amount of space.
Four computer monitors crowded the desktop, two on each leg of the desk.
The two in front of him were for his regular PC, while the two on the side showcased the camera feeds from around the station.
Scarlett was sitting at her desk. Was Cap watching when she had her ass bent over it?
I gritted my teeth, instantly irritated at that thought.
Captain pulled out his cushy leather chair—which still rolled along the floor instead of dragging on stuttered wheels—and sat, gesturing for me to sit as well.
The two plastic-back chairs with only the minimal amount of padding weren’t chosen for comfort, and I had no illusions that it was a coincidence.
I folded myself onto the seat. “What’s up? ”
“Your brother is good friends with Wesley Winters, no?”
“He is,” I confirmed.
Captain sat back in his chair with his hands clasped around his middle.
He wasn’t old by any stretch, maybe in his early forties, and his years of fitness from being on the force still showed through, but he was softening more and more now that he was no longer out on the streets like he used to be.
“He’s been trying to get in touch with me, looking for information about our department, policies, procedures, documentation, and the like.
There isn’t much I can give him regarding specifics, as it’s against department policy to share those with the public without a written request under the Freedom of Information Act, which he did.
But in this case, the exceptions prohibit us from releasing the information he wants. ”
“I can let him know, sir.”
“My hands are tied, Wilder. I know he’s digging on behalf of Redmond, and I get that.
Kid deserves a fair trial, if only to ensure he doesn’t get off on a technicality for murdering that poor girl.
” Captain shook his head, the light in his eyes dimming at the thought of the worst crime Calla Bay had seen in decades.
“Winters though, if he thinks he has a lead that needs following—something specific—I want to know.”
Seemed like Wes was coming in from the front, making official requests for information and not hiding his agenda. I could understand Cap’s viewpoint. If this was my team, my responsibility, I would want to know if something was off too.
“Understood, sir,” I told him. I wasn’t making any promise to follow his instructions. Not until I had more information myself.
“Now, get out there and get to work,” he said, dismissing me.
* * *
“Your handwriting is atrocious,” Wes mumbled. I met him at his house again, or rather, the garage. In all the years since Wes had owned his house, I think I had been inside it only a handful of times.
“Everything gets entered into our system electronically. I didn’t think anyone else was going to be seeing my notes,” I said.
“How many people did you interview?” he asked, flipping through the notebook.
“Her parents, individually and separately. Her friends, her teachers, her volleyball coach and the girls on her team, the guidance counselor who helped set Alana up as a peer-to-peer tutor for Redmond his senior year. Redmond’s acquaintances, his old boss, the guy who called it in the morning she was found.
” I listed off the dozens of people we talked to during our investigation.
“They all in here?”
“No. But most of them are. There were a few that Monroe took notes during. I’ll get the digital copy of those notes, but I figured this was a place to start.”
“It is,” he agreed. “I want that case file.”
“Working on it.”
I sipped the beer in my hand, wishing it were whiskey.
My feelings on this were jumbled and confused.
On the one hand, I trusted Wes, and I needed to know if we had a dirty cop—or cops—on our streets.
But on the other hand, it felt like a betrayal to the men and women who I worked alongside every day, who put their trust in me, the same I did—or should—to them.
My phone vibrated in my pocket with an incoming call. I looked at the screen and saw that it was Scarlett.
“I have to take this,” I said to Wes. He was flipping through the notes and barely stopped to do a quick head nod of acknowledgment. I swiped to answer the call quickly. “Hey, Scarlett. What’s up?”
Wes’s cheek twitched imperceptibly, but he otherwise kept reading through the notebook.
“Luke,” Scarlett whispered. Her low voice had my hackles raised instantly.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper-hissed back. “Talk to me.” Wes’s head snapped up at my question, listening for any sign of trouble. Despite our differences in the past, he would ride into war at my side if I needed him to. There was no doubt about it.
“Nothing. I just don’t want Pete to overhear me. I’m in the bathroom, but I’m trying to be quiet,” she said, referring to Lieutenant Rebello. It was just the two of them at the station until she got out at midnight.
“Christ, Letty. You scared the shit out of me.” Relief washed over me in a hard wave .
“Sorry. I don’t have much time. I mean, I could always tell him it’s lady business if he asks what took so long.” Her pensive tone as she seriously considered her options made me laugh.
“That would probably work,” I agreed.
“Anyway. That isn’t why I called.”
“To talk about your lady business?”
“Luke,” she scolded, still whispering.
“Sorry, sorry. What’s up?”
“I wasn’t able to copy the case file. When I went to get it the first time, Cap came out of his office and almost caught me.
And when I tried again after he left, Pete was wandering around, so I pivoted to the bathroom.
And here we are. I’m sorry, Luke. I tried.
If I can get my hands on it, I’ll be able to copy it no problem, but I keep getting intercepted. ”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, shaking my head at Wes to let him know that we didn’t get the file.
Yet. “I don’t want to tip anyone off that we’re looking at things.
To everyone else, Redmond’s case is done and dusted, at least until the trial starts.
If they see you with the file, it’ll open up a line of questioning we don’t want. I can try again tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Luke,” she said, but I could hear the dejection in her voice.
“Hey. This is just what investigations are like. There are a lot of moving pieces, and sometimes it takes a minute to get what you need. Patience, Letty Girl.”
Fuck. I often called her Letty. It was our own little thing that had started as an inside joke—an imaginary TV show we made up called Luke and Letty, Crime Stoppers. Now, she was “Letty Girl”?
I thought I heard her suck in a breath, but it was probably just the phone. Hopefully, she didn’t even catch the slip of the tongue. The last thing I wanted was for Scarlett to get awkward around me.
“Okay, well, I should get back out there. Tell Wes I’m sorry for not getting it done tonight.”
“He’ll be fine. Stay safe,” I told her, ending our call with the same motto we always did.