Devils Among Us (Devin Dushane Series Book 1) (27 page)

There was no time to celebrate. Glancing back to Michael she
discovered he was already back on his feet and lunging for her throat. If he
couldn’t stab her, he would settle for strangling her. The two locked into what
equaled a standing locked arm wrestling match. Both were exerting all their
power and energy, but no ground was being gained or lost. They stayed almost
still, each trying to choke the other. She was losing strength by the second as
warm waves of blood were rippling down her side. Michael’s eyes darted to an
open grate in the floor a few feet away. He was looking for a rat hole to
escape down. If he loosened his grip and dove for the hole, they would most
certainly lose him and in all probability he would take Devin down with him
cracking her skull on the concrete floor or iron incinerators. Even now she
could feel him slipping from her grip when she heard Shane somewhere behind
her.

“Devin, I can’t get a clear shot!”

Her words shook from the strain. “Just take it.”

“I can’t! Not without going through you.”

“Take it
now
Shane!”

Devin’s head snapped back as searing pain ripped her apart
and the world slipped away into darkness.

The light was too bright. Its brilliance was harsh when
Devin tried to pry her eyelids open, intensifying the throbbing pains
throughout her body. A fuzzy version of Shane’s sheepish face appeared above
her. She tried to scowl at him, but at least he was blocking some of the
ambulance’s excruciating lighting.

“How much voltage did you use exactly?”

Shane’s cheeks turned pink and his feet began shuffling
nervously along the edge of the stretcher. “Enough. I had to make sure the
current was strong enough to pass through you and knock him out.” His eyes gave
away what his voice did not—the fear and the pain of having to taser the woman
he was falling in love with. “You told me to take the shot.”

“Yes, I did, and I would do it again even if it had been a 9
mm instead of a taser.” She mustered half a grin at his look of horror. “Oh,
you would have found something nonfatal. Besides we serve the good of the many,
not the good of the one.  A gunshot wound would be a small price to pay to
bring that sociopath to justice.”

“Well don’t look to me to make that shot, because I am done
working with you.” He examined his reflection in a glass-paneled cabinet and
ran his hands through his short, dark hair. “I bet I got fifty gray hairs today
alone. Woman, you give me an ulcer!”

Devin instantly regretted the snort of laughter that burst
out and strained each ache and slice in her body.

He looked down into her eyes again. “I’ll tell you what I am
going to do, though. I’m taking you out on a real date, and that’s final. I’m
done with all this lighthearted, flirty cat-and-mouse game. Devin, I’m crazy
about you. Crazy in love, crazy mad when we fight, crazy scared right now…all
of the above. I just know that I can’t be without you.”

Devin was laughing lightly, which was slicing hot razors
through her shoulder, but she didn’t care. “I have too much baggage for any
reasonable human being, yet somehow you make sense of it. There’s no piece of
me that’s too twisted or ruined for you. Even when I hate you, I love you. It
is an absolutely horrible idea for us to be together. Completely crazy.” She
gripped the front of Shane’s shirt and pulled his face closer to her pillow. “But
I’m pretty sure that I’m already certifiably insane anyway.”

Devin’s grin wasn’t quite as face-splitting as Shane’s, but
there was no doubt that the intense sparkle of their eyes was matched when
their lips met.

Neither one noticed that they had arrived at the hospital
and that the ambulance doors were now open. For once they were at peace just
being with each other.

Devin fidgeted with the strap of her sling. Why did it
always seem there were extra straps and buckles that went to nothing on these
things? The union rep assigned to her nudged her leg under the table and gave
her a hard look that clearly suggested she sit still.

“Detective Dushane, would you please rise?” The Commander in
charge peered at her over his bifocals and amended his request. “If your
injuries allow you to do so.”

Devin, of course, pushed to her feet, shifting her suit
jacket over her sling a little further. “I’m fine, sir.”

“Very well.” He returned to using his glasses and reading
from the papers before him. “This hearing was convened today to hear evidence
from Internal Affairs in the charges against Detective Devin Catherine Dushane
of use of excessive force and reckless endangerment of civilian life and fellow
officers during the arrest and subsequent death of Ronald Turnsby on May 7
^th
of this year.”

Devin was working very hard to keep her expression calm and
smooth, with slow, easy breathing. She knew the IAB investigators were staring
her down from across the aisle. There would be no reaction from her—she
wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

“It is the determination of this panel that there is no
evidentiary support for any of the aforementioned charges, and the
investigation against Detective Dushane should be closed and wiped from her
record.” The Commander closed the file and removed his glasses altogether,
giving a hard look first to the IAB investigators and then an appreciative nod
to Devin. “Furthermore, this panel finds Detective Dushane’s actions to be heroic,
and had she not acted so swiftly, the loss of life would have indeed been much
greater. In fact, if we don’t wrap this up, the Detective is going to be late
for the Governor’s ceremony in her honor. So, case dismissed.”

Devin met the eyes of all the panel members giving a nod of
thanks and a very dignified smile. Thanking her rep she turned to slip out
quietly. An investigator with IAB blocked her path. His face red with fury was
just inches from hers. Before he could say anything, Devin clapped him warmly
on the shoulder and sidestepped him. “Blake, I need to add you to my Christmas
card list. You have a good day now.”

Stepping into the August sunshine, Devin heard a familiar
voice.

“Ma’am the state police would be honored to escort you to
the State Capital building.”

“Bill! What are you doing here?”

Bill Ellroy, head of the Virginia State Police Detectives,
stood holding open the back door of a black Town Car, wearing one of his baggy,
ill-fitting suits and down-home smiles.

“We’re here as a protection detail to safely transport you
to the ceremony.”

She slid past him into the buttery-soft leather interior. “I
think they normally use State Troopers for that sort of thing.”

“So sue me for wanting to talk to an old friend.”

Devin raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, so maybe I really want to know how you feel about
returning to the Richmond PD. Congratulations on the hearing, by the way.”

Her smile was guarded. “Thanks. But what do you mean, how do
I feel about returning?”

“Does the detective bureau in Richmond still feel like home?
Does the city still feel like home? Don’t answer. Just think on that for a
minute.” Bill paused to look out his window as if the words he needed would fly
by on the breeze and he could just grab them out of the air. “Devin, I know how
you feel about state jobs you’ve always been chasing the fed, but I’ve got a
new position open that I want you for. You’d be a hybrid detective—still
responsible for investigating crimes within the region you cover, but you would
specialize in major crimes. So you could be called into Fairfax, Norfolk, Bristol—anywhere in the state, depending on the type of crime. It’s kind of what
you do now, just expanded on statewide level.” He paused, but she continued to
stare at the scenery.  “Danny’s already on board and he’d be your partner.
They’ve wanted to get out of Richmond for a while now.”

Devin snapped her head around to look at him. “What office
is this based out of?”

“Well there’s not a defined detectives’ satellite office in
that part of the state, but we could relocate it, maybe even to Fenton.”

“Fenton? The office would be out of Fenton?”

“It could be, or in that general vicinity.”

“Don’t you want to be sure all my tendons and ligaments are
going to grow back together and function properly before you start offering me
jobs?”

His belly laugh filled the car. “Are you kidding me? A
little thing like severed tendons stop the infamous Devin Dushane? I don’t
think so.”

They came to a stop before the steps of the State Capital
building, where a crowd was gathering for the ceremony.

Bill nodded towards the grand architecture of the building.
“Look, already you’re gaining recognition from the governor and not just the
mayor.”

She was unimpressed. “What makes you think I would be
interested in this now?”

Bill stepped out of the car and gave her a hand out on to
the sidewalk. “Something tells me you’re ready to move on, and Fenton has a lot
to offer you.” He motioned over his shoulder for her to look at the crowd.

The usual cast of characters was there—Carter, his sisters,
and Mama Dushane. Marcy had come, and Captain Morris. Now, though, she had
Shane, looking more handsome than anyone had a right to in his dark suit,
holding roses for her. Beside Shane were the Christiansons, Henry, Sheriff
Bittner, Casey and, their family and at least two-thirds of her self-defense
class. Devin even recognized a few faces from the gym and the Lucky Ox.

The sun wouldn’t set for a few hours, but she didn’t need its
warmth. Looking at her adopted hometown family, Devin finally felt the light
within her begin to flicker and reach some of the dark protected corners of her
soul. She was going home.

The smell of burnt instant noodles and cheap incense did a
poor job of covering up the stench of unwashed hallways. Devin pounded on the
door again, shaking its frame and sending peels of gray paint floating to the
filthy floor. When she had called her father’s number, it was disconnected, and
Mickey hadn’t seen him at the garage in over two weeks. She wasn’t holding out
much hope for his apartment. At least she
thought
this was his apartment;
it was the last address Devin had for him.

The door across the hall was yanked open by a twelve-year-old
kid dressed in gang colors.

“What is with d’noise? Man I’m gonna put a cap in somebody’s
a—”

Devin flicked her badge in the kid’s face and sent him into
stutters.

“What are you popping these caps with? Something legal?”

“No ma’am…uhh I mean…I was just talkin’ smack. It was loud,
and I was trying to watch TV, is all.”

“Uh-huh.” Devin clipped her badge back on her belt and
nodded at her father’s door. “Who lives here?”

“Nobody. An old white dude used to, but he split in the
middle of the night a couple weeks ago. Why?”

“None of your business. You can go back into your apartment
now.” He hesitated as if unsure he wanted to leave without more information.
“Or I can arrest you on charges of threatening an officer.” The door couldn’t
shut fast enough.

She waited long enough for him to lose interest at the peep
hole and then picked the lock to her father’s apartment. The kid was right—the
place was deserted. A few odds and ends that didn’t make the last-minute packing
cut were strewn about but nothing of consequence—until she reached the bedroom
closet. A splintered picture frame lay face down in a pile of broken glass.
Picking it up gingerly, Devin could see her father had tried to remove the
picture unsuccessfully and cut himself on the glass. A smear of his blood was
dried on the largest piece of glass. The picture was of him holding Devin when
she was about five years old, her arms wrapped around his neck. They were both
all smiles.  

Gently she slid the picture out and tossed the frame back in
the closet. Taking one last look around, she spoke to the empty room.

“I did it, Pop. I brought her killer to justice. It wasn’t
your fault.” Even though her last words were a whisper, they echoed in the
empty space.

“And it wasn’t my fault.”