The precinct’s remaining Crown Victoria pulled up beside them and the man who needed all that room hauled himself out of the driver’s side. “Heat, you’re going to give me a fucking heart attack,” said Wally Irons.
“No, I think the pork chops and fried dough are pretty much going to take care of that,” muttered Rook to Nikki while the captain waddled around to them.
Before Irons even checked on her, he gave Rook a disdainful head-to-toe and said, “I’d ask what you’re doing at my crime scene, but I guess I can let it go, considering.”
Rook said, “You’re a big man, Wally,” and took an elbow from her.
Heat filled in her captain on the events. The exercise forced her to relive the unpleasantness, but it also helped her organize the main points for the report she would have to write. It also spared her a second recap to Rook. She finished by telling him Detective Feller would ride herd on Forensics to run prints on the two deceased and on the Smith & Wesson dropped by the man she air nailed.
He bobbled his head. “Sounds like you’ve got it all buttoned down.”
“It’s the job, sir.”
He looked off up the empty midnight street, watching life beyond the cordon and said, “You think this is related to the Gilbert case?”
“I do.” Beside her, Rook cleared his throat but wisely chose not to speak.
“Heat, I want some hides on the wall for this.” He came back to look at her. “Meantime, I’ve tried this before, but I’m not taking no. I’m putting a radio car at your doorstep all night. Period.”
She thought about the assault force. Saw the passive menace on the face of the Cool Customer. And said yes.
Irons felt good about that. Until Rook said the car should be at his place overnight.
Heat was up and dressed, pacing the kitchen on her cell phone when Rook shuffled out of the bedroom the next morning. After indulging in a long, hot, therapeutic bath to soothe the morning-after soreness of her street battle, she had already brewed a thermos of coffee and taken it down to the officers in the blue-and-white outside his loft. Nikki poured him a cup of French roast from her second pot and smooched a silent air-kiss while she listened to Zach “The Hammer” Hamner’s dour phone call to start the workday.
“This is not going to be one of our usual friendly chats,” he’d begun when her phone rang exactly a minute after seven. Zach was so damned earnest, she couldn’t tell if he was kidding, or if he truly felt they had a cordial relationship. “This is an on-the-record, official caution, Detective. Are you hearing me?”
“Yes, Zach, I hear you.”
Rook glanced up from booting his laptop at the counter and whispered, “Is that The Hammer?” She nodded and rolled her eyes. “Tell him you killed a man with a hammer last night. That’ll lighten things up.”
Nikki held up a shush finger and turned away so she wouldn’t laugh as Zach pressed onward. “In my capacity as special assistant to the commissioner of Legal Affairs, I am informing you that the department has been put on notice that an unlawful arrest suit is going to be filed by Keith Gilbert’s attorneys. I don’t need to tell you what cost such a lawsuit would carry. Not just in hard dollars, but in embarrassment to everyone here at One PP.”
“Are you saying they’re threatening? That’s chest beating. Why don’t they just file if they really have a case?”
“An indulgent stance when you’re not in my chair,” he said. “I want your assurance that you have a case.”
Nikki said yes, but didn’t feel it would be wise to share everything her squad had gathered. Maybe she didn’t have a law degree, but Heat knew what an abundance of caution was, too. “I’ve got solid stuff, Zach. I’ve got forensic evidence. I’ve got phone records connecting Gilbert to Beauvais, even though he denied knowing him. I’ve got the doctor who treated Beauvais, who ID’d Gilbert to him as the guy who shot him.”
“Tell me you have the gun.”
“I have a search warrant in-process.”
“What’s the delay? No, let me guess, Wally Irons.”
“You win.”
Zach Hamner didn’t laugh. The Hammer never laughed because he wasn’t human. But this time, his sourness had cause; he was feeling pressure. “We have to get this right, Heat.
“Yes, of course, the task force.” She saw Rook look up from his screen and quickly back at that mention. Would this open discussion, or just be the elephant in the kitchen? Nikki yearned for friendly contact and came around the counter to drape an arm on Rook.
“Fine then,” said The Hammer. She heard papers shuffling on his desk. “Let’s cover some bases. Keep digging. And bring in that doctor for a sworn statement. I’ll see what I can do to move along the search warrant for the gun.”
“That would be helpful.”
“All I can say is, this better be airtight. Let me hear you say it.” When Heat didn’t respond, he said, “Detective?”