Authors: Carolyn McCray,Elena Gray
“Blade?” Beck said, letting his reading glasses fall to the end of their chain. “I thought he was still in the can.”
“Paroled three months ago.”
Nick’s frown only deepened. “What was he doing with Dekker?”
“Asking a favor.”
Beck whistled through his teeth. “A favor? Grant is a convicted arsonist with a suspected five bodies to his credit. What in the hell kind of problem would he need Dekker’s help with?”
“I don’t know,” Alexis said, wishing she had been able to gather way more intel. “They spoke in private.”
Lightning struck outside the window, flashing brightly against the darkened sky. A storm was rolling in faster than the morning news anticipated. Great. And she didn’t even bring an umbrella.
Thunder boomed as rain streamed down the glass behind Beck. “When do you see Dekker next?”
“Today at two.”
Beck rose to his feet. “Excellent. Two associates spotted on your first day. Not bad.”
“Sir,” Nick said as he stood. “Might I suggest that Alexis wear a wire this time in?”
The lieutenant looked at her. “It’s not a bad idea.”
“Um, not quite sure where I would put it,” Alexis stated.
Nick frowned. “I don’t …”
“Yeah, when training, I’m basically in a sports bra and spandex …”
That image seemed to give both men pause, and then Beck cleared his throat.
“No wire then. Got it.”
Alexis went to exit, but Nick wasn’t done yet. “At the least, sir, are we picking up Ratface?”
“Absolutely,” Beck said, nodding. “For the right price, he’ll roll on whatever information he has on Dekker.”
Nick rushed on. “Then wouldn’t it be prudent to have Alexis delay her next contact?” Nick flashed Alexis an apologetic frown. “If Reggie squeals, there’s no sense in risking Alexis’ safety any further.”
Alexis glared at Nick. Had he been brewing this plan to undermine her undercover work since seeing Ratface’s picture on her desk? Her partner took “defend and protect” a bit too far.
“Sir,” she countered. “We can’t count on one snitch turning up enough evidence for a conviction. If I don’t show up this afternoon, Dekker will never trust me.”
“You both have valid points,” Beck said as he led them out of his office. “Let’s see what Reggie offers up. If it’s a solid lead, you’re off the case. If it’s not, then we’ll go with the second contact. Let’s check back in at one.”
Trying to keep her anger in check, Alexis nodded sharply. She didn’t want to check back in at one, but there was no countermanding Beck.
Once the door was closed, she spun on Nick. “I have to give you credit. At least you didn’t bother stabbing me in the back. You did it right in front of me.”
Nick glanced around the station before grabbing Alexis’ arm and leading her around the corner. Guess he didn’t want a scene. But she was pissed enough that she didn’t care. Besides, how could it hurt her reputation any?
“Look, Alexis, I’m sorry you are pissed, but—”
She cut him off. “Do you have any faith in my abilities? At all?”
“Jesus, this has nothing to do with your competence, Alexis,” Nick replied. “I would have given the same recommendations if it were Grace on the case. Having an undercover cop wear a wire and getting him or her out as soon as humanly possible is pretty much standard operating procedure.”
Alexis crossed her arms. She found it hard to believe that, had it been Grace, Nick would have horned his way into a meeting.
Nick went on. “Maybe you could see that if you didn’t have so much ego involved.”
Anger flared through Alexis’ bruised muscles. “My ego has nothing—”
“Just look at who this guy hangs out with,” Nick interrupted. “Two convicted felons in the course of a day. And he’s only a technicality away from being one himself.”
“I can handle myself,” Alexis said, knowing that it sounded lame. Damn it, but Nick was right. What did it matter
how
they got Dekker—just that they got Dekker? She was loath to admit that she wanted it to be her hard work that got their man.
Nick put a hand on her arm. “I know you can. We all know you can. But Alexis, let us do our jobs, too.”
Ugh. She hated it when Nick was super-reasonable. Alexis liked arguing far better. If she kept it up, though, she would definitely get the “you doth protest too much” speech from him.
Finally, she sighed. “I get it. I just wish you would voice these concerns to me in private rather than in front of the lieutenant.”
He flashed a smile. “Got it.” He squeezed her arm before he let his hand fall away. “So let me make it up to you tonight. Dinner at The Huntsman’s?”
“Nick …” Alexis really didn’t want to have this conversation again.
But her partner’s smile just got wider as he backpedaled away from her. “How about 7:30? You know you want one of their porterhouses. My treat.”
“Okay,” she said. “Fine.”
She did like a good steak.
* * *
Dekker’s phone vibrated so hard against his nightstand that it bounced an empty water bottle right off the edge. He lay sprawled on his back across his bed in nothing but boxers. Just how he liked it. Unfortunately, his pit bull, Jaws, didn’t agree as he licked Dekker’s face in big, wet, and sloppy kisses. Somebody was an early riser.
Dekker reached for the phone just as it stopped vibrating. At least one problem solved. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes.
The phone buzzed again.
“Damn it!” Dekker snatched his phone. “This better be good.”
“Whoa, Jesus,” the voice squeaked. “Calm down.”
Jaws laid his head across Dekker’s stomach. Absently, he scratched the supposedly fierce beast behind the ears as Max, his old fight promoter, gave him his pitch, again.
“Look. I told you,” Dekker answered. “I don’t do that shit anymore.”
“Come on. Just one more,” Max urged. “I’ll double your cut of the purse tonight. Win or lose.”
“Tempting, but no.”
Max’s tone got uncharacteristically serious. “Don’t force me to remind you that I was the only one who stood by you after you got tossed off the official tour.”
Dekker used the heel of his hand again to his temple. Maybe that fifteenth beer was one too many. “I’ll officiate, but that’s it.”
Max mumbled some “better than nothing” answer and hung up.
Dekker knew that everyone thought he was staying out of fighting on principle. In truth, the thought of getting back into the ring and strapping back on those gloves made his stomach turn. He was afraid of his opponents. He was afraid of what he would do to them. But no one seemed to care. Not with the millions that they could cash in on if Dekker came out of retirement.
Well,
screw
’em.
Dekker fell back onto the bed as Jaws readjusted his big snout. Finally, they could get back to sleep. He cracked open an eye to check the time. 12:11 p.m. flickered back at him. Wait. He hadn’t gone to bed until 3:30 a.m.
He jerked upright. “Shit!”
Jaws whined, trying to readjust and find a nice, soft spot again.
“How’d you let me sleep so long?” he chided the dog. Usually the beast was up at the crack of dawn.
Dekker pushed himself out of bed and strode across his loft to the kitchen. Empty Jack bottles littered the floor. An empty pizza box lay open on egg crates that served as his coffee table. And then there was the weight bench and heavy bag. His in-home studio.
Tugging open the refrigerator door, he searched for something edible. “Time for breakfast, huh?”
Cracking six eggs into a dirty glass on the counter, he chugged the slimy brew.
“Hmm … not bad,” he said, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Dekker set the glass down on the floor for Jaws. He tousled the pit bull’s ears. “Now it’s time to sniff out Ratface.”
* * *
Alexis looked at her watch. Ten after one. She impatiently tapped her foot while Nick was on the phone. As of ten minutes ago, there was still no word on Reggie. Beck stood on the opposite side of Nick’s desk.
This meeting needed to wrap up quickly if she was going to have time to change and get over to the studio.
“Thanks,” Nick said into the phone. “Call me if you get anything else.”
Alexis asked, “Well, did they find Reggie?” before Nick could hang up the phone.
“No,” Nick answered slowly. “They’ve raided all his usual hangouts, but they can’t shake him loose.”
Beck placed his palms on the desk. “How about the hospitals and morgues?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Sounds like he’s gone underground, then,” Beck concluded.
Alexis shook her head. “But why? He couldn’t have known that we were looking for him.”
“I don’t think he’s hiding from
us
,” Nick corrected.
Her partner didn’t have to clarify who Ratface was hiding from. But would Dekker be that incredibly stupid to go after Reggie right after a fight like last night? With a witness? She probably wouldn’t find out sitting around here.
“I’ve got to go,” she said, standing up. “My lesson is in—”
Nick blocked her exit. “Alexis, we can’t afford to have
you
wind up missing.”
She didn’t bother to respond to Nick. He wasn’t the one making the decisions.
“Sir,” she said to Beck. “You said if nothing panned out with Reggie, then I would be going back in.”
“That I did.” Beck pinched the bridge of his nose. Right about now he was probably wishing that he hadn’t promised her father that he would look out for her. “Be careful,” he added.
Alexis opened her drawer and grabbed her purse. She needed to get out before Beck changed his mind.
“I’m good to go,” she declared.
Nick shook his head, though. “I wish I could be so sure.”
“It’s a lesson in broad daylight with a nice old lady as a witness. Nothing’s going to happen. I promise.”
Seeming resigned, Nick asked, “You’ll tell me everything that happens at dinner, right?”
“Right,” she reflexively answered. Anything to get out of here.
Without a backward glance, she left the station.
CHAPTER 6
As Alexis entered the studio, she found it empty—except for Dekker working out at a punching bag. His fists jabbed at a speed that nearly blurred the motion. His breath hissed with each jab. The muscles in his back bulged with each movement. Each one was precise in hitting its target. She imagined him using that force on someone’s face.
He picked up a towel and swiped across the back of his neck, and then pressed it to his face. When he pulled it away, he caught sight of Alexis.
Dekker glanced up at the clock, his mouth curled up in a half smile. “I was just about to give up on you.”
“But I’m ten minutes early.”
“Like I said,
you’re late
.” He wiped his taut six-pack of a belly. “Someone like you, I expected at one-thirty.”
Alexis’ lips drew downward. “I’m not always that predictable.”
“Glad to hear it,” Dekker said as he tossed the towel to the floor. “Now let’s work on some combinations, shall we?”
As Dekker demonstrated a jab with his right arm, then a hook with his left, Alexis noticed a long cut on his forearm.
“Ouch. What happened?” she asked, pointing to the wound.
“Oh, I went to take care of a squealer, and we got into a wicked knife fight. I got slashed before I took him down.”
Even though she willed them not to, Alexis knew that her eyes dilated. Was he talking about Reggie? Was that why they hadn’t heard from Ratface? Was Dekker giving a confession?
“Humor, remember?” Dekker chuckled. “Joking, hon. Damn, woman, you really need to lighten up.”
What was it about the way he called her “hon” that made her muscles clench? And was it out of fear, or something else?
“You are such a sucker, lady.” He motioned toward the vending machine across the studio. “I was moving the machine and a piece of steel caught my arm.”
She followed the direction his arm was pointing, and there it was. Shining under the fluorescent lights. A thick shard of jagged metal protruded from the side of the machine.
Coincidence, or convenient?
Alexis met Dekker’s questioning gaze. Trying to keep the doubt from her voice she said, “Sorry. I’ve just heard so many stories …”
For a moment Alexis thought she saw pain in Dekker’s eyes, but in a blink his warrior mask was back on. “Don’t believe everything that you hear … or do, but know that there is always another side to the coin.”
Blushing, Alexis dropped her gaze. She shifted from foot to foot. Was there another side to Dekker? Could a boy raised in violence find peace as a man? If he was innocent, what was his life like? Always judged, put under a microscope, and dissected. And here she was spying on him.
“I’ll keep that in mind …” she said.