Justice Served Part 5

Sandy shook her head, although she wore only a short, tight red * 43 *

RADCLY fFE vinyl jacket that did not close across her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Her nipples stood out starkly under the nearly sheer top.

"You look cold."

"I'm not." Sandy's voice held the barest edge of annoyance. She shot Rebecca a look out of the corner of her eye. "Okay, maybe I am a little."

Rebecca hooked her ngers beneath Sandy's elbow and tugged her into a coffee shop on Front Street. They navigated the narrow path between the counter and a single row of tables until they reached the last table in the rear. On the way, Rebecca held up two ngers and asked for coffee. A minute later they sat with steaming cups cradled between their palms.

"I need you to nd Trudy," Rebecca said, referring to the young dancer-c.u.m-prost.i.tute who had been with Sandy in the p.o.r.n studio the night of the arrests. "We haven't been able to nd her since she left the ER the other night."

"Can you blame her?" Sandy said bitterly. "First she ends up going down on that pig for the camera, and then she gets caught in the middle of your raid. Watts drags her off to the hospital, where some doctor takes her clothes away and pokes and sc.r.a.pes her everywhere." Sandy sipped her coffee, apparently oblivious to the scalding heat against her lips. "What do you expect?"

"I expect she's laying low, but that won't last long. She's going to need money." Rebecca stared into Sandy's eyes. "She's going to do what she's always done to get it, which means hook or pose. Either way, she's going to expose herself to danger."

Sandy laughed, a short mirthless sound. "You mean more so than usual?"

"I mean that if anyone knew she was going to be at the shoot that night, they might suspect her of tipping us off." Rebecca didn't add that if anyone knew that Trudy had been meeting Sandy to bring her to the p.o.r.n shoot, she could be in danger too. She knew from the look in Sandy's eyes that she'd made the connection. "I want to nd out what else she knows-"

"What?" Sandy snapped. "Before someone dumps her in an alley?"

"And," Rebecca went on with no change in expression, "see if I can get her into a program or shelter somewhere."

* 44 *

Justice Served Sandy looked as if she were going to retort, but stared down into her coffee instead. After a long moment of silence, she looked up into Rebecca's face. "I'll ask around. She wasn't that hard to nd the rst time."

Rebecca nodded.

"Dell's not ready for the street. The doctor said she was going to be weak because of losing blood and stuff."

Still Rebecca said nothing.

"She wants to f.u.c.king be just like you." Sandy's eyes ashed.

"Tough, like nothing ever hurts and nothing could ever hurt her."

"She's a cop, Sandy." Rebecca spoke quietly, her tone even and mild. "You're going to have to accept that about her if you're going to be with her."

Her words took them both by surprise, and they blinked simultaneously.

"Christ," Rebecca muttered, realizing that she'd had almost the same conversation with Mitch.e.l.l about Sandy just days before. It was crazy, the two of them together. But for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to split them up. There were things that she could do, including threatening Mitch.e.l.l's career, to force them apart, but she hadn't done that. When she considered it, as she did in this moment, Catherine's face came into view-disappointment and sorrow in her eyes. "Look, I don't want to know about you two. Keep your personal stuff personal, and just let Mitch.e.l.l do her job."

"I'm not going to let her get her head blown off," Sandy said vehemently.

Rebecca leaned forward over the table, her hands not quite touching Sandy's, their faces inches apart. "If you want her to be safe, then don't make her crazy. She has to go out the door every day knowing that you'll be there when she comes back. If you can't give her that, then let her go now."

Sandy's eyes widened. "Jesus. Who are you?"

Wordlessly, Rebecca held Sandy's searching gaze.

"I heard Dell say that sometimes an older cop takes a rookie under their wing and helps them out. It's some kind of special big-deal relations.h.i.+p. Rabbi, she said. Is that what you are now?"

"Something like that."

* 45 *

RADCLY fFE "So you're sending her out there with nothing but her d.i.c.k in her hand?"

Rebecca had to work to suppress a smile, just imagining how Mitch.e.l.l would respond to this conversation. "She'll have backup. Most of the time, Jasmine will be with her." She held out a hand before Sandy could protest. "And she's a natural. She's one of the best undercover cops I've ever seen."

"Can I say you said that?"

"No. "

Sandy grinned. "Man, she'd like to know you think that. But I don't plan on telling her. She'd be impossible."

"Good. You hungry?"

"Yeah."

Rebecca waved a waitress over and ordered two burgers with fries and c.o.kes. While they waited, she said, "I don't want you hooking."

"I'm not going there again," Sandy said atly. "I can't work the streets and not hook. That'll get me killed faster than anything."

"You'll just have to fake it."

Sandy laughed. "Fake blowing some guy in an alley? You think he might notice if I don't do anything except stare at his hard-on?"

"I don't want you doing anybody in alleys or backseats of cars or three-dollar rooms in ten-dollar ophouses. If you run into someone you know, tell them you just nished with a trick. Since you don't have a pimp, n.o.body's keeping score."

"I'll be careful."

"You're out of business, Sandy." Rebecca's tone held absolutely no room for negotiation. "I'll see that you get money on a regular basis."

Sandy c.o.c.ked her head and regarded Rebecca thoughtfully.

"You've changed. There's something inside of you now besides just business. How come?"

Rebecca was silent, but she stumbled over the memory of Catherine's scent enveloping her in the dark. And she knew.

* 46 *

Justice Served

CHAPTER FIVE.

Catherine smiled at the a.s.sistant who sat guarding the door to Hazel Holcomb's inner sanctum.

"Hi, Stef, is she around?"

The slender African American woman shook her head. "Not to anyone but you."

"That busy, huh?" Catherine smiled. "Never mind, then. I'll catch her before the ve o'clock management conference."

"No, you'd better see her now if you really want to talk to her. No guarantee she'll even make it to the conference. Budget's due."

The way Stef said budget made it sound as if she were speaking of a virulent pathogen capable of destroying nations.

"I promise I'll only stay a minute."

The a.s.sistant waved her toward the partially open door to the chief of psychiatry's private of ce and returned her attention to the computer screen on her desk. Catherine murmured her thanks and, tapping lightly on the door to announce her presence, stepped into Hazel's of ce.

"Oh, thank goodness, you've come to rescue me." Hazel, a vigorous sixty-year-old with short salt-and-pepper hair and a piercing gaze, slipped off her reading gla.s.ses and let them dangle on the braided cord around her neck. Indicating a chair in front of her desk with a quick gesture, she leaned back and sighed. "Most of the time I forget why I didn't want to be an administrator. This week, I remember quite clearly."

Catherine regarded the mountain of paperwork covering every available surface of Hazel's desk and grimaced sympathetically. "It looks awful."

"It's worse."

"I'm sorry. I'd volunteer to help but the thought terri es me."

* 47 *

RADCLY fFE Hazel snorted. "It would probably be good practice for you. You're going to be doing it yourself one day soon."

"I'm not at all certain I want the job," Catherine said immediately, "and what's more, you're going to be here for a long time to come."

"There are days I wonder about that," Hazel said with uncharacteristic solemnity. "There seem to be more and more of them when it just isn't fun anymore."

"Those are the times we have to remember to separate the work from the bulls.h.i.+t."

Hazel blinked, then laughed with genuine pleasure. "You're right.

And I'm sorry. You came to talk about something, and I ended up telling you my troubles."

"It seems only fair, since I'm always burdening you with mine."

"Nonsense. We're friends, and that's what friends do."

Since Hazel was regarding her expectantly, Catherine got right to the point. "I need advice, of course. It's about a former patient whom I expect to be treating again. Since the last time I saw her in therapy, I've gotten somewhat personally involved with her. What's more, Rebecca is involved with her too."

"How do you know she'll be returning?" Hazel asked astutely.

"She's a police of cer, and she's sustained an on-duty injury.

She'll need to be cleared psychologically before she returns to duty.

Since she's seen me before, I expect she'll return."

"And you've gotten to know her outside of therapy, I take it."

Catherine nodded. "It's complicated." She laughed at her own understatement. "Of course it's complicated, or I wouldn't be here.

She's an of cer a.s.signed to Rebecca's team, and I've worked with the team as a consultant fairly closely for the last month or so. The of cer and I have worked together in that capacity."

"So it was still a professional relations.h.i.+p, essentially."

"Yes, and this particular individual is extraordinarily respectful of boundaries. She's very much like Rebecca." Catherine smiled, thinking of Dellon's quick temper and Rebecca's cool, tight control. "Although they're as different as night and day."

"You're fond of her, aren't you?"

Slightly taken aback, Catherine hesitated, considering the early-morning call she'd received from Rebecca just a few days before telling her that Dellon had been seriously injured and was on her way to the * 48 *

Justice Served hospital. She remembered her swift relief that it hadn't been her lover who had been hurt, followed immediately by her concern for a young woman she had come to know and like. "I do like her. But I like many of my patients."

"I agree. If you didn't, I'd worry about that." Hazel lifted a mug and sipped, then made a face. "Cold tea. Almost as bad as cold coffee."

She leaned forward, punched in several numbers on her phone, and asked Stef if she would mind bringing two cups of tea. "So you'll be seeing her in a somewhat limited capacity-short-term, focused on her recent injury. Correct?"

"Yes. Usually these things are resolved in three to ve sessions."

Catherine waited while Hazel got up to take the tea from her a.s.sistant.

"Thank you," Catherine said, taking a mug from Hazel. "But sometimes other things come out, and I end up seeing the individual for long-term therapy."

"And that's where you think problems might arise?"

"Potentially." Catherine blew on the surface of the hot liquid and sipped. "Not necessarily. It's just there are more confounding factors in this particular relations.h.i.+p than I'm used to dealing with, and I wanted to talk it out with you. I don't want to transfer her in the midst of emerging issues."

"I take it you haven't been personally-socially-involved in any way."

"No, Rebecca wouldn't have that kind of a relations.h.i.+p with anyone she worked with, particularly a subordinate. Nor would I."

"I think the very fact that you're talking about it means you'll be particularly sensitive to boundary issues. I wouldn't worry about it."

Hazel rested her mug on the corner of her desk. "So, how are things with you and the detective sergeant?"

"The detective sergeant is now a detective lieutenant. She just told me earlier today."

"That's wonderful, isn't it?"

"It is. I think." Catherine shook her head. "It's not what I thought it would be. I just a.s.sumed her promotion would mean she'd be doing mostly administrative work. Instead, they've given her command of some special unit to investigate high-pro le crimes. That doesn't sound an awful lot safer than what she's been doing."