Неизвестный - 5. Justice Served

Erica studied her, her expression puzzled. “And you’re happy?

She makes you happy?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Erica’s gaze swept the room where small groups, composed mostly of men, continued to mill about, talking and laughing. The rumble of many voices drowned out neighboring conversations. Nevertheless, she lowered her voice. “That’s not a problem, here?”

“Sometimes it can be,” Mitchell acknowledged. “But I don’t care.

I can handle it.”

“You always thought you could handle everything,” Erica said with a mixture of affection and irritation.

“That’s because I can.”

Erica laughed, sounding very much like Mitchell. “You are so full of shit, Dell.”

“Yeah. Like you’re not.” Mitchell reached out and Þ ngered the row of ribbons on her sister’s chest. “Looks like you’ve been busy racking up the points. You must be looking at a promotion yourself soon.”

Erica blushed. “Maybe, I don’t know.”

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Justice Served

“They’re fast-tracking you, aren’t they? The posting in DC?

Grooming you for a command post somewhere soon.”

“Probably,” Erica admitted.

Mitchell was surprised to realize that she felt no animosity, no jealousy. With a start, she realized that she no longer wanted the life her sister was headed for. The life she had thought she wanted. Some of the anger she had nourished to shield herself from pain eased. “That’s cool. That’s good.”

“I have to get back to the base,” Erica said. “I wish we could talk.”

“About what?”

“About…Robin. What happened.”

Mitchell shook her head. “There’s no point. It’s over. We all made our choices back then. And we’re all living with them now.” She looked away, scanning the crowd, smiling as she spied Sandy heading their way. “Sometimes the choices we’re forced to make take us to the place we wanted to be all along.” She met her sister’s eyes. “I’m happy, Erica.”

“You ready to go?” Sandy asked as she reached Mitchell’s side.

“Yep.”

Sandy turned her attention to Erica. “If you’re anything like Dell, and I guess you probably are, you’re insane for pizza. We can order extra.”

“Thanks,” Erica said sincerely. “I need to catch a train.” She held out her hand to Sandy. “It was very nice meeting you.”

Sandy appeared thoughtful as she took Erica’s hand. “It would probably be good if you came back for another visit.”

“Thank you.” Erica looked from Sandy into her sister’s eyes. “I’d like that very much.”

Mitchell and Sandy were silent as they watched Erica walk away.

Then Sandy said, “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Have I mentioned that I really like it when you take care of me?”

Sandy stood on tiptoe and spoke quietly, close to Mitchell’s ear.

“Yeah, but you’re usually talking about sex when you do.”

Mitchell laughed. “Well, then too.”

“So what do you say we pick up some pizza, and I can take care of you some more.”

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RADCLY fFE

“Oh yeah—love in the afternoon,” Mitchell said, grasping Sandy’s hand. “I think I just got lucky.”

“Yeah, yeah, rookie. Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late.” Tugging Sandy through the crowd, Mitchell Þ nally knew that she was exactly where she wanted to be.

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Justice Served

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

This is such a nice treat, having you all to myself in the middle of the afternoon,” Catherine said, leaning her head against Rebecca’s shoulder.

Rebecca, in sweats and a T-shirt, her feet propped on the coffee table next to the empty deli containers, sighed. “I could get spoiled, that’s for sure.” She kissed Catherine lightly. “But I have to go back to work. Flanagan said she’d have something for me today on the shooting.”

“I know, and I need to go in to the ofÞ ce and take care of billing before Joyce loses patience with me entirely.” Catherine too had changed into a favorite pair of slacks and a pullover, and now she drew her legs onto the sofa to curl closer against Rebecca’s side. “I really enjoyed the ceremony. I noticed you trying to slip away from the photo-op at the end.”

“The department never passes up an opportunity for publicity,”

Rebecca said wryly. “Hardly my style.”

“But you are newsworthy, darling.” When Rebecca stiffened, Catherine laughed and hugged her. “This is the second time in less than a year that you’ve received a departmental commendation, you were just promoted, and you’re without question the sexiest police ofÞ cer in the city.”

Rebecca tilted her head back to look into her lover’s face. “About that last part…”

“We have to work,” Catherine murmured, captured by the light dancing in Rebecca’s eyes. Her body ß ushed hot, then she shivered.

“But there’s something about you in that uniform that’s had me on edge since this morning.”

“The uniform, huh?” Rebecca guided Catherine’s hand beneath

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RADCLY fFE

her T-shirt, then pressed Catherine’s palm to her stomach. “Will this outÞ t do?”

“Darling,” Catherine whispered, sliding her hand up to cup Rebecca’s breast. “You in absolutely anything does it for me.”

Laughing, Rebecca pulled Catherine down on top of her. Work would always be there.

v

“You want that last piece of pizza?” Mitchell, propped up naked in bed, looked down at Sandy, whose head was cradled in her lap. The pizza box lay on the ß oor beside them where they’d placed it earlier so they could eat in bed. When Mitchell had indulged herself by licking off a few drops of sauce that had fallen on Sandy’s breast, they’d gotten sidetracked. They’d made love, fast and hard, and then consumed the rest of the pizza in postcoital indolence.

Sandy nuzzled Mitchell’s navel, then tugged at the skin around it with her teeth. “Nuh-uh.”

“Jeez, San, cut that out. I don’t have time to go again.” Mitchell squirmed as Sandy bit harder. “Ouch. Come on. I’ve got that doctor’s appointment, and Jason’s been waiting all day for me to Þ nish up some stuff.”

“Say please,” Sandy muttered, circling her tongue where her teeth had just been.

“Oh man,” Mitchell sighed, her stomach quivering as her body went molten. “Honey. ”

Sandy slid a hand beneath the sheet and up the inside of Mitchell’s leg. “What do you say?”

“Please,” Mitchell whispered.

v

“Good afternoon, Lieutenant,” Flanagan said when Rebecca rapped on her open ofÞ ce door. “I hope you’re not bringing your bulldog in here.”

“Watts?” Rebecca grinned. “No, he’s down at the docks following up on some paperwork with Port Authority.”

“Good, because even when he does keep his hands in his pockets,

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Justice Served

I don’t trust him in my lab.” Flanagan capped her pen and shufß ed papers into a folder. “So, nice showing this morning.”

“I didn’t see you there,” Rebecca said, surprised. Flanagan was not one to appear at departmental gatherings, ofÞ cial or otherwise.

“Maggie make you go?”

Flanagan harrumphed as she stood. “Actually, no. I just put my head in for a minute. Saw you get the commendation. Congratulations.”

“Well, thanks.”

The two regarded one another from a few feet apart, then spoke at once.

“About the case…”

“So regarding the Þ ndings…”

With comfortable routine once more restored, they moved companionably into the laboratory where Flanagan led Rebecca to a workbench.

“Nothing new about COD. GSW at close range. From the trajectory, I put your shooter in the car with the victim, not just leaning in the door. That means considerable blowback—his, or her, clothes and body would have been grossly contaminated with the spray. No professional would get into another vehicle like that.”