Linda Kay Silva - Delta Stevens 3 - Weathering the Storm (3 page)

Delta sighed loudly. Some things never changed.

Captain Henry closed the large file he’d been reading and leaned across the desk. “Enjoy your time off?”

Delta shrugged. If this was his opening line, she was in trouble. “Not particularly. I enjoy my job.”

Leaning away from her now, Captain Henry eased back among the shadows of the dark room. What was it with captains, other bosses, and principals who kept their offices like bear lairs?

“So I’ve heard. It appears you enjoy it so much, you do it even when you’re not on duty.”

Delta tensed. Her first meeting with the captain and already, she felt attacked. “If you’ve read the Zuckerman report, sir, you’ll see that my off-duty activities saved hundreds of lives.”

Captain Henry smiled. “Oh, I’ve read the report, Delta. A number of times. It also appears that this isn’t the first time Internal Affairs has investigated you for off-duty activities.”

Delta felt the heat rise in her neck. “No, sir, it isn’t. But I’ve learned a lot and I’m sure I’m a better cop for it.”

Captain Henry regarded her through a pair of twinkling blue eyes. He didn’t appear to be baiting her; he was feeling her out more than anything else. “I’m sure you are. But your choice of words is interesting. You say you’ve learned a lot, but your lessons come when you’ve acted on your own and not under departmental guidelines—is that correct?”

Delta thought about this a moment before nodding. “I suppose so.”

“They say,” Captain Henry said, leaning forward again, “that those who can learn can also teach. What do you think?”

Delta frowned. What kind of question was that? “I don’t know, sir. Some of my college professors were pretty poor teachers.”

This seemed to throw him back. “Uh huh. Well, Delta, as your new captain, I’ve been given the job of deciding how to handle my officers when they’re investigated by IA. I’ve gone through your files with a fine-tooth comb and I believe that some changes are in order if you are to continue working for this department.”

The hair on the back of Delta’s neck rose. “Changes, sir? What kind of changes?”

Leaning even closer, Captain Henry smiled. “I have decided to take you off of your regular beat and assign you a Field Training Officer position starting immediately.”

“Training Patrol?”

“That’s right.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

Delta tried not to glare across the spacious desk at the new captain. Captain John Henry, who sat with his thick arms folded across his weightlifter’s chest, reminded Delta of a wooden sailor figure carved roughly out of driftwood. He had Popeye’s arms, a strong jawbone, and grayish eyes that said he was a take-charge kind of captain. All he lacked to complete the picture was Popeye’s corncob pipe perched beneath his salt and pepper moustache and a tattoo of an anchor on his arm.

“Come on, Captain, anything but TP I’m no teacher. I wouldn’t have the first clue how to be an FTO. Besides, what about Jan? She’s my partn—”

“Not anymore. Like I said, thing are changing and as of this moment, Jan Bowers has a new partner, a new beat, and a new attitude. I suggest you adopt her approach.” Unfolding his muscular arms, the captain leaned slowly and purposefully across the desk. The keen scent of his Old Spice cologne wafted into the air. “Field Training Officers are handpicked, Delta. I picked you. It’s that simple.”

Delta sighed in exasperation. He did not look like a man who understood compromises or creative bending of the rules. “A rookie will only slow me down, sir.”

Captain Henry grinned, his moustache dancing slightly with the movement. “Has it ever occurred to you that slowing down is precisely what you need?”

Delta shook her head. “No, sir. I like the heat.”

Captain Henry’s old sailor grin widened. “So I’ve seen. From what I understand, you’ve been pretty busy lately experiencing that heat; and from all sides.”

Delta winced inside. She knew what he was referring to and where he was going with this, and she didn’t have a defense or any fancy words to get her out of it. She had gone out on a limb to save Connie and hundreds of others from Elson’s sick game of revenge, and now, Internal Affairs was on the other side of that limb holding a saw in their collective hands. “I suppose you could say that, sir.”

“I suppose I could say a great deal. You seem to have your hand in cookie jars that aren’t even in your house.”

Delta cocked her head in question. “Captain, I’d appreciate it if you’d cut to the chase. I don’t do well with analogies and metaphors. My suspension is up tomorrow and I’m here because you asked me. Just why did you want to see me?” Delta held his gray eyes with hers.

Captain Henry retained her gaze for a moment before shifting his eyes back to the thick folder laying beneath his arms. “I wanted to see you because of this,” he answered, tapping the folder with his stubby finger. Slowly pulling his large frame from the chair and moving over beside Delta, Captain Henry handed the folder to her. “I’m trying to keep a damn good cop from spending the rest of the year, if not the rest of her career, behind a desk.”

Delta glanced down at the folder sitting in her lap. It suddenly felt like it weighed 100 pounds. “This is about the Zuckerman case, isn’t it? You agree with IA that I could have saved him from falling from that building.”

“What I think,” Captain Henry said quietly, “is that you’re a very fine officer who has made a lot of questionable judgement calls. I don’t have to tell you that Internal Affairs has had a field day with some of those decisions.”

Inhaling through her nose, Delta sat up straight and locked eyes with him again. “The chief’s commendations mean nothing to you, sir?”

Pulling on his moustache, Captain Henry shook his head. “A commendation may be a nice thing to have under your belt, but as your superior officer, I see things in a little different light.”

Delta stared hard into his eyes. The color seemed to vacillate between gray and blue. “And what light is that?”

Standing, Captain Henry leaned against the desk and folded his arms again. “Delta, have you taken a good look at this overstuffed personnel file lately?”

Delta briefly glanced down at it and shook her head. “Well I have. I’ve been over every inch of your file, and you know what I found?”

Gritting her teeth, Delta shrugged. If he was going to blast her, she wished he would just do it and let her get the hell out of there. The walls were closing in around her and he seemed to be growing larger with every sentence. She didn’t need this hassle. After Internal Affairs finished with her about the Zuckerman case, she promised herself to try to keep her nose as far away from trouble as she possibly could. Now, even before the game had begun, she was being benched.

“I am well aware of the contents of my file and the questions raised by IA, sir. The way I see it, it’s my job to make certain decisions on the street and it’s their job to question them. I did, they did, and it’s done.”

“Oh, it is?”

“Isn’t it?”

Captain Henry picked the file up from Delta’s lap and leafed through it. “I found four incidents where you ignored proper procedure, where you and your partner broke regulations, skirted the rules, and, most disconcerting of all, you ignored orders when you felt they didn’t apply to you. I’ve read lengthy reports detailing accounts of you killing one suspect in a warehouse, and shooting the legs out from another suspect who also happened to be a cop. I’ve read about one man falling ten stories to his death while you stood by, apparently within arms’ reach of him. I’ve read a file filled with both commendations and yellow slips, praises and reprimands—”

“Excuse me, sir, but is there a point to all this?”

Closing the file and setting it back on his desk, Captain Henry paced over to the window that overlooked the bustling station. “As a matter-of-fact, there is.” Without turning back around, he continued. “There isn’t a cop in California who hasn’t heard of your exploits and heroics. I’ve spoken to officers who have worked with you, and you receive nothing but the highest marks from your colleagues. I’ve done some digging into your background and discovered that, regardless of the stains and medals in your file, you are considered one of the greatest assets in this department. You are what many of the young guys aspire to be.”

“But?”

Captain Henry grinned. “But I’m afraid your reputation as a vigilante who too easily turns her back on departmental rules precedes you.”

Delta nodded. She knew well her reputation across town and in other departments, and she was proud of it. In six years, she had had her share of major busts and convictions. Sometimes she played it straight, but more often than not, she found her way around the overly-restrictive departmental rules that hampered other cops from completing the job. She felt cops were required to follow rules that didn’t apply to criminals, and those very rules tied the hands of law enforcement officers and kept them from doing their job well. Yes, she broke regulations, but she liked to think of it as creative problem-solving.

Unfortunately, it didn’t appear as if Captain Henry was going to see it her way. “Like you said, Captain, I get the job done.”

Turning to face her, Captain Henry still had a smirk on his face. For a moment, he just stood there, grinning and shaking his head. “You are just as she said you would be.”

This caught Delta off guard, and her left eyebrow raised in question. “She?”

“District Attorney Pendleton. Hers was the first phone call I received when I sat behind this desk. It appears she keeps herself abreast of your career moves.”

Delta did not respond. Alexandria Pendleton had been indirectly involved with the Zuckerman case. She had needed an arrest, and Delta gave her one—well, almost gave her one, if he hadn’t fallen. If Alexandria had called the captain on Delta’s behalf it could only mean that she had been forewarned about Delta’s impending transfer and was using her considerable clout to keep it from happening.

“The DA said she’d heard that I was inquiring about the personnel I was taking over and thought I might like her input. Your name came first. It appears she has a great deal of confidence in you and asked me to reconsider IA’s recommendation to remove you from the streets for awhile.”

Delta did not move. She knew IA would use her as an example of what happens when you don’t follow the rules, but she never imagined they would actually take her off the streets.

“Delta, I’m no fool. The DA called because you saved her ass by coming up with the suspect who killed that little girl. You made her and the whole department look sweet on that one. Yes, a man died. But the taxpayers just see that as a fitting end. No court costs, no prison expenditures. You gave them what they wanted; a dead suspect. I saw the polls right after that and the DA’s reelection chances are looking pretty good because of it. It would take a miracle for Wainwright to beat her now. It’s obvious she feels she owes you, so she made a call on your behalf.”

“And?” Delta wanted this conversation to end. If he was going to take her off the street or put her on Training Patrol, then just do it.

“And, given your record, I have considered a lot of things. While I can’t just ignore IA’s recommendation to take you off the streets, I also can’t sit a good cop with an arrest record like yours behind a desk. It was Pendleton’s idea to put you on TP.”

“I’ll be sure to thank her,” Delta replied sarcastically.

Captain Henry picked at his moustache. “She and I both know you’re far too valuable on the streets to stick behind a desk pushing paper around. However,” he paused for emphasis, “IA demands some action and I can’t ignore the fact that there are so many `incidents’ in your file. I want those to stop. Period. End of the line. My officers will follow the regulations or they’ll work for someone else. This place is under my command now, and I will see to it that it runs smoothly.”

Delta slowly rose from the chair and rammed her fists into her pocket. “And you think making an example of me will allow you to do that?”

Captain Henry rose and moved over to sit on the corner of his desk. Delta wondered if they were playing some kind of chess game where one body changes position and the other counters.

“Rest assured, Delta,” the captain said, smiling, “I am not using you as an example. I am doing what I believe is best for this department, not to mention, what I think is the right thing for you. It’s either a rookie or a desk. One keeps you on the street, the other is pushing paper. I don’t think the latter is something you’d enjoy very much.”

Delta clenched her fists tighter in her pockets. How was it that she had helped end the string of killings by a psychopath, yet, because she didn’t do it “by the book,” she was suffering the consequences instead of receiving praise? God, the politics of this job made her crazy sometimes.

Captain Henry continued. “I want you working for me, Delta. Make no mistake about that. But to do that, you have to do things my way and that means you need to mellow some.”

Mellow. The word banged like a brass drum off her temples. Cheese mellowed. Wine mellowed. Cops who mellowed lost their edge. It was that edge that made Delta so good and kept her alive. Without it, being on the street would be like facing a machine gun armed with a water pistol.

“Mellow, sir?” Delta asked, trying to maintain some calm in her voice. “You’re putting me on TP to mellow me?”