“Don’t you “Randy” me!”

Luke stopped just within the doorway. He’d come in on his own, had even thought to change his shirt to something not so grungy. He’d plastered a smile on his face, with the intention of seeing if bullshitting his way through the meeting might actually work.

Apparently, Randy wasn’t as appreciative of his efforts as he could be.

Luke stood, calculating his next move. It was that bad, then. He’d counted on the years of friendship as seeing him through. Perhaps unfairly, but it was about all he had.

“You have…” Randy sputtered and foundered, his arms wind milling, “You have no idea what kind of damage you’ve caused. You slept with the daughter of the prime suspect. You are compromised. I’ll bet you even told her you’re a cop, didn’t you?” Randy looked at him for a moment.

Luke didn’t see any point in helping him along and just stood there.

Randy took his silence as assent. “What the hell is wrong with you? You know better! Do you not understand that these people kill people? You shook hands with Benny Bianchi. You have heard of him, have you not? He’s the one the FBI marked as armed and dangerous? You know, from that Most Wanted list that everyone talks so much about.”

Luke winced but stood silent, waiting for his friend, or maybe former friend, to wind down.

“You giving me the silent treatment, Luke?” Randy asked finally, throwing himself down in a chair so hard that it creaked. It’s a wonder it didn’t break. “What was it they called you in the service for that?”

“The Mountain,” Luke said, flushing but refusing to look away. It was a stupid nickname.

“The Mountain.” Randy nodded once and leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. “A fucking mountain. I need a cop, I get a mountain. I need a pro, I get a love-struck…” he gestured a sweeping arm toward Luke, “…mountain.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen this way,” Luke said, taking the seat opposite him.

“No, you never mean for things to get fucked. No one starts off thinking ‘I’m going to completely fuck up everything and put myself in danger.’ It’s not exactly something you plan. It’s something you do when you don’t follow the plan!”

“I didn’t know who she was!” Luke shot back. “Not at first. She doesn’t look anything like her picture—”

“That picture was ten years old,” Randy shot back, “as you were informed at the briefing.”

“Yeah, got it. But at the time…” Luke stretched that word for all it was worth, “I didn’t know who she was. Then…” Luke turned and looked out the window. “Then it was a shortcut. I got in, deeper than anyone, I got into the family. You told me to use it. You told me to use her. And they thought she and I had a thing…”

“Apparently you do.”

Luke stared at his boss. “Apparently, we do,” he confirmed. “But at first it was just quicker, easier. Then everything blew up.”

“Blew up?” Randy echoed. “Try fucked up. Ever think it’s your fault that Daddy took a powder? That he made you, saw you jumping his little girl, had you checked out and figured he was under too much heat and lit out?”

Luke considered this honestly before answering. “No one knew who I was when he left, and…”

“And what?”

“And then someone figured it out…”

Katie. He’d forgotten all about Katie.

“You mean there’s more?” Randy sat back, his eyebrows raised. “Really. Is there anyone you haven’t told? We can arrange to have it on the six o’clock news hour if you missed someone. Who did you tell?”

“Katie,” Luke said, chewing his lip as he considered this.

“Katie? Who the hell is Katie?”

“Katie Linnear. She’s a friend of David’s.”

Randy groaned.

“No, wait, you don’t understand. I think he hurt her, Randy. I think he did something to that poor girl—”

“So you told her you were a cop to make it all better? Why didn’t you just kiss it?” Randy stopped himself. “Oh, right, I forgot. You did, but only for blondie.”

Fuck off. He bit his tongue. It’s what he wanted to say, but knew better. “Listen, Randy, I know it looks bad, I got that, but I have something you need to see.” He reached into his pocket for the USB stick.

“Yeah, well, guess what?” Randy leapt to his feet. “I can’t see it. I don’t know and I don’t care what it is. According to the DA’s office you’re compromised, and any and all material obtained by you during the assignment of the case is null and void and inadmissible as evidence.”

“You’re shitting me!”

“Are you serious, Luke?” Randy yelled him down. “There’re at least three people I report to right now who are demanding your badge pursuant to an internal investigation! I had to buy them off with my reputation. It’s not just your ass on the line anymore; it’s mine, too!”

Luke stared at the floor. It was bad enough to risk himself, but to risk a friend… that wasn’t acceptable. He looked up at his friend. “I’m sorry, Randy.”

Randy seemed to deflate all at once. He walked over to his office door and locked it and made sure the blinds were closed. He then returned behind his desk, reached into the bottom drawer, and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels and a sheaf of paper cups. Wordless, he poured them each a drink.

“You’re on duty,” Luke reminded him.

“You’re not,” Randy countered and raised his cup. Luke tapped it with his. “So, tell me,” Randy said as the first heat of the whiskey burned its way down Luke’s belly, “she feel the same about you?”

“Maybe, but she won’t talk to me. She walked out.”

“What did you do?”

Luke took a healthy swallow. “I’m a cop.”

“She chose family over you?”

Luke stared into his cup, swished it around, and downed it. “It looks that way.”

“You’re done, Luke. You’re still a cop but you’re done here, with this one. Maybe you need to figure it out, too, like she did.”

“What do you mean?” Luke extended his cup. After a moment, Randy filled it halfway.

“Make the decision, Luke. The job or the girl. You can’t have both.”

Luke snorted. “The job is what I am,” he said, and finished off his drink.

Randy nodded. “But it’s not what you love.”

Luke sighed and got to his feet. “I’ve got a few things in the apartment I need to clear out.”

“You have an hour.” Randy shook his head. “That place isn’t safe anymore. Don’t get lost in memories.”

Luke stood and dropped his cup into the trash. “I’m a cop,” he said.

“Don’t push it,” Randy said to his back, pouring his untouched whiskey back into the bottle.

 

 

The whole way back to the apartment, Luke felt hollow. Empty. Luke Milligan no longer existed, and he wasn’t altogether sure who Luke McConnell was anymore. Was it possible that, after so many months, the job was truly over? That Edwin Rinehart was no longer his responsibility? It was a strange feeling, disorienting in the extreme. Sure, given enough time he’d be given a new assignment, though after the mess he’d made of this one he wouldn’t blame anyone if he was put on desk duty for the rest of his natural life. Or at least for the duration of his career, such as it was. Or would be.

He sat for a moment in his car, looking up at the apartment building through new eyes, trying to see it the way she had last night. This really was a crap neighborhood. Dani had shown some guts following him here, and then thinking that he was worth pursuing even after she’d seen the broken concrete and graffiti on the walls. Obviously, she wasn’t a girl who put a lot of value on outer trappings. A real girl. Who could have figured that? Here he’d been unlucky in love for years, and he goes and finds the perfect mate for him, and he had to go and fuck everything up.

Mate. He’d actually thought of her as more than a partner. More than a wife. As an equal, his match. The woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Something more important than a job, only it had taken him too long to realize it.

Tired and filled with a heartache that cut to the soul, he trudged up the stairs to his apartment. Maybe he wasn’t as vigilant as he’d needed to be. He realized belatedly, when he already had his key in the lock, that he had no memory of even reaching the door. Not a good sign in an agent who needed to move out, now.

Truthfully, he shouldn’t have come at all. There was nothing here of value. Keepsakes that meant anything to him at all were back at his place outside D.C. The agency would send a crew to disassemble the apartment, and by tomorrow there wouldn’t be a trace of him ever having been there at all.

Shaking his head Luke turned the key, listening belatedly to the silence, glad no one was around to see him acting like a rookie. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He stepped into the apartment, letting the door fall shut behind him, more interested in the memories of what this place had represented than a single physical item in the place. This is why he’d come, to relive those moments.

He moved into the bedroom and picked up the tumbled duvet cover, imagining her scent still clinging to the flowered fabric. With melancholy, he stared at the mess of sheets and pillows that had tumbled off the mattress and onto the floor at some point. She’d been naked, sprawled just there. He could still see the expression on her face, hear the soft cries she’d made as he’d touched her.

With a sigh, he turned to the bathroom, wondering if there was anything he actually needed to grab at all. Toiletries, clothing, none of it mattered a whole lot. He picked up a couple of books he’d been reading, found a ring he’d been wearing as part of the disguise—a college ring from his supposed alma mater that would make an interesting souvenir at any rate. He tucked it and a pair of cufflinks in his pocket, finding something already there.

The damn USB stick.

Randy wouldn’t even look at it.

Maybe that had been more frustrating than anything else. He never even found out what was on the damn thing. He’d tried to read it before leaving for the debriefing, but the information it contained was encrypted. He’d been hoping the agency could break through but, of course, with the inability to use whatever was on it as evidence, no one had even wanted to so much as look at it. Maybe back at headquarters he could pull some strings to satisfy his own curiosity, and if everyone hadn’t put him on their shit list maybe he could even contribute some valuable information to those who picked up where he left off. He added it to the cufflinks and ring in his pocket and turned to go.

The rest, mostly clothing, didn’t matter. The agency could pack his things for him and send them along. They’d already taken his laptop at the debriefing. There truly was nothing left for him here.

He’d turned to go, when the door splintered open with a crash that sounded like a truck going through a storefront.

A shadow passed the bedroom door. Luke instinctively he kicked out, hard. The doorjamb shattered, the door flew off of the lowest hinge, and in the confusion Luke got a fist into the face of a man in a suit.

The next intruder got a lamp to the back of his head when Luke bent and charged like a bull. The speed and angle of his charge took them both into the living room, where someone hit him a glancing blow over the shoulders. Luke stood up, crashing his head into the man’s mouth, and kicked out, hitting flesh though he had no idea who he’d connected with or even if he’d done any damage.

He spun and hit another, but someone kicked his leg out from under him. He fell hard, rolling and coming instantly to his feet—or at least that was the plan. Instead, they followed him down and were on him in an instant, raining blows and kicks on him until his stomach tried to throw up everything he’d eaten that year.

He was stunned and only half-aware of being pulled to his feet. A bully-boy stared at him from behind a mask of hate and fear. “Now, that’s not nice,” he said, and slammed a fist into Luke’s solar plexus.

Luke doubled and would have fallen, but the men holding him wouldn’t let him. He started to stand, determined to hit one more of the bastards. There was no way he’d go without putting at least one of these guys in the hospital. But he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun sliding back to cock. Then another. And another.

Being a man who wasn’t normally stupid Luke raised his arms to signal the fight was over, and the men released him.

“Someone would like to ask you a basic question,” one of the punks said, holding his hand to a very obviously broken nose. “Maybe if you would be so kind.” He swept his arm in the general direction of the door. “After you.”