Chapter Five
Eileen was sitting in the cubicle across from Amber when she finally got her pile of papers as well as her pounding heart in order enough to walk back to her desk. Gently pushing past Gabby, who she thought might be purposely sticking his gut in her way, Amber managed to get her papers on top of the already leaning stack on her desk. She was proud of herself for shutting Dex down again, when all she really wanted to do was push him into the nearest interrogation room and strip off that delightfully thin t-shirt he was wearing. But the cop uniform she wore was an extra layer of armor and helped her draw the line in the proverbial sand. Of course, it was automatic to shut down co-workers because she would not be office gossip. But Dex wasn’t in law enforcement anymore. He used to be, and while he was in the security business now, that didn’t make him a cop at all, even though it was some sort of law enforcement.
She huffed out a breath as her stack of papers slid to the side. She was ridiculously confused about this man, more specifically her own reactions to him. He was just a damn man. She should be able to control herself around him, and so far, she had. But it was a tenuous thread. Amber felt its tautness and its readiness to break at any second.
Eileen let out a weird noise behind her, and she looked at her neighbor. Eileen was one of the first people to welcome Amber when she started, showing her around the floor—coffee pot, copy machine, how to work the computer network system, et cetera. While Amber was appreciative of the efforts, she saw through them.
Eileen was Internal Affairs, Amber’s old job, so she understood the premise of “you get more flies with honey” and wasn’t falling for the old “best buddy” routine. But it was nice to have someone being nice to you when you were new on the job.
But now, Eileen didn’t look so nice.
Amber steeled herself for the negativity. She was already a bit sick of it from Gabby, but Eileen was another force altogether. She was constantly talking down about co-workers with the pretense of “protecting her interests” but Amber suspected she was IA because nobody else wanted to work with Negative Nelly.
Before Eileen could open her mouth, Gabby leaned over the stack of papers. “I’m gonna go grab some chow, and then I’ll help you with this paperwork, ‘kay?” Gabby really was a nice guy to work with, but like Eileen, he’d clearly been on the job long enough. He didn’t seem to like anyone and was just counting down the minutes until his next break. She sighed and nodded, trying to focus on something besides Dex Hollerman, the guy who smelled like sex and danger, or gun oil and Irish Spring … whatever.
Eileen’s arms were crossed over her chest, her mouth turned down at the edges, certainly signs of displeasure. Amber couldn’t imagine what she’d done. Eileen—already in meetings for her department—hadn’t even been at her desk when Amber got there this morning.
With a huff, Amber sat in her chair and managed to organize the stack of notebooks and random papers on her desk, next to the already towering stack that had been there since yesterday.
“What did Hollerman want?”
Ah … so that’s what this was about. Was he someone they were investigating? Amber made another mental note to stay away from him, not like she needed more notes in her head, but this was something tangible she could hang on to. The IA lady didn’t like him. Not that she liked Gabby, either, and she had no choice about being around him.
“Nothing. I met him last night at Batons … sort of. I think he was just saying hi.” She wasn’t into giving too much information, for sure. The IA lady didn’t need to know Amber was apparently in Hollerman’s sights, and he kept asking her name. Like he was interested.
“Just watch out for him. He was on our radar for the work he did with that PI firm he works for now, and since he’s retired, all he does is come in asking for favors. He’ll use you, and the next thing you know, you’ll be the one in trouble.” Eileen was still staring at her with that disappointed look. But something else was there, too. Jealousy? No. Couldn’t be. Eileen wouldn’t have an interoffice relationship, even though she was attractive enough. Amber blinked hard, trying to get the image of Eileen and Dex together out of her head.
“Aw … Come on, Eileen.” She couldn’t resist the jab, trying to lighten the mood, but the other woman either didn’t listen to the greatest hits of the 80s or had left her funny bone at home this morning. More likely, every morning. She probably kept it in a jar by her bed, only to be broken if a fifth of whiskey had been ingested. Amber stifled a giggle. “Seriously. I won’t give him anything.” Turning to her stack of papers, she grumbled, “Not that I have anything good to give him anyway.”
More phone leads to follow up on, most of them bullshit. Exes and enemies trying to get someone in trouble, so they point the finger at the “bad guy” trying to get the police on their case. Those were usually easy to weed out because the caller didn’t have any of the right details regarding the case, only the accused.
Then there were the calls Amber referred to as the paranoias. People who didn’t get out much and had nothing better to do than make up scenarios involving fellow citizens they assumed were up to no good. They would sit at home, shut in for whatever reason, and imagine things their neighbors were up to while doing normal everyday things, like going to work, shopping, or out with friends.
There were legitimate calls Amber had to weed out of the rest. Of the genuine calls, she had to use her brain to call and follow up with more questions. The Tannerite bombs were scary, mostly because of the big, fiery boom, but to create that boom, a rifle with a larger caliber than .22 had to be fired. Inside the city limits, that was a huge no-no.
Most of the bombs had gone off downtown, in highly populated areas. So far, they’d been small and in trashcans, but the fact a rifle had been fired downtown with people milling about in the capital of the largest state in the continental U.S. gave Amber the heebie jeebies.
She knew this wasn’t a complete waste of time, but at the same time, she’d been a cop for four years. Amber wasn’t a rookie anymore. This was rookie work.
Eileen had left her desk, and Amber used the opportunity to look around now that the eagle eyes weren’t focused on her anymore.
The other four guys from the task force were clustered around the coffee pot, filling cups with java to take on the road. She missed that part of everything. Her “partner”, Gabby Fisher, a short guy who was a wide as he was tall, was most likely gone for the day. She’d been here long enough to know “going for chow” was code for “out all afternoon.” But since she’d been stuck following up on all these phone leads, she had no clue what he’d been doing to take down the Tannerite bomber. They were supposed to be working together, but she hadn’t seen much of that, and frankly, she was thankful.
Slitting her eyes and looking left to right, she didn’t see him anywhere. It wasn’t like anyone was going to assign her anything. She’d been here for almost a week with nothing beyond this stack of papers. She could take them home, organize them, and make a spreadsheet of viable leads to contact.
After she ran by a couple of pawn shops and gun stores.
Her heart started beating faster at the idea she was about to do something she wasn’t supposed to do. It gave her a thrill knowing it was for the good of the case, even if it wasn’t protocol. Her fingers got hot as her heart beat her blood to her extremities, and she shoved a stack of papers into her messenger bag. Carrying the other stack of notebooks, Amber managed to walk with purpose toward the door, as if she’d been given a very important assignment. She rushed, just like everyone else was, intent on fulfilling her duty and catching a bad guy.
Even if she were doing it wrong and would eventually get in trouble.
A small, triumphant grin lit her face as she got on the elevator to go down to the transportation department to get a car.
Her tires were on order, and she needed some wheels.
She was going to be so busted. But maybe, in the meantime, she’d find something concrete.