Chapter 3

Walker

I drop in my chair and scrub my hands down my face. The drive to the station did nothing to calm my anger.

Emerson is right; Carlton is a fuck-tard. But after today, he isn’t going to bother her anymore, or else he answers to me. With the way I left things, he doesn’t ever want to see me again.

I log in to my computer and start checking my emails, welcoming the mundane tasks. Fifteen minutes into it, I feel eyes on my back. I turn to find Oliver standing behind me with the captain by his side.

“Can I help you?” I bark in irritation.

“You’re late,” Cap’ says with a hint of humor.

“Didn’t realize I punched a time clock.”

His lips twitch as he cuts his eyes to Oliver. “I heard you’ve been volunteering your services to the fine citizens of the city, especially the pretty ones.”

Fuck, this is the last thing I need. “What are you getting at?”

“I had it covered, Walker. Emi was on my list today,” Oliver tells me.

“Well, lucky for you, I freed up some of your time.”

Oliver starts to argue, but Captain Corny cuts him off, throwing up a hand. “What did you find out?”

“She was right. Carlton was pissed. I called the owner of the bar, and he reviewed the security camera footage from that night. Carlton stumbled out of the bar, piss-ass drunk, and keyed the shit out of Emerson’s car. He took great time in etching profanities on her door, then pissed all over the vehicle. Before he could get out of view, he also fell to his knees and vomited everywhere. Then it shows him crawling away to a waiting cab.”

Oliver and Captain’s faces twist in disgust.

“I visited Mr. Breen this morning at work and kindly explained that unless he wanted the tape to become public and Miss Baker to press charges, he’d pay for all damages. He agreed.”

“Somehow, I don’t think it was that easy,” Oliver guesses.

“Not at first, but I helped him see reason. I left with a check and dropped it by the body shop on my way in.”

“Detective work at its finest,” Captain remarks with a wink.

Oliver blows out a breath and looks at me with disappointment. “I wish I could have been there. I’ve wanted to see that asshole squirm for a long time.”

“Asshole is being generous.”

“Shit, boys, everyone has wanted to see that asshole wriggle. Scott has singlehandedly stolen the thunder of half this precinct.” Captain pats me on the shoulder.

“I should have taken Emi more seriously,” Oliver’s says regretfully.

“Maybe.” I shrug.

“She’s a bit dramatic,” he tries to explain.

“She told me you think that.”

“Son, have you ever been around Emi Baker for more than five minutes? Everyone thinks that. She’s gone through more stages than anyone can keep up with. The girl is a spitfire! Her mama’s had a running prayer circle for her since she was eighteen,” Captain howls, a few of the men around laughing with him. “Last year alone, I had three complaints from her.”

“Don’t forget the time she insisted on getting her girlfriends home after the karaoke contest,” Oliver adds.

“What happened with her girlfriends?” I ask, regretting it when his lips start to twitch.

“They were all tipsy, and she wanted to wait for an Uber. There was a bar crawl going on that night, and I was on duty. Fights were breaking out all over the place from too much alcohol and testosterone. I told her to get her ass in a cab. She refused, arguing loudly and making a scene. I had to threaten cab or cuffs, and she agreed.”

“Like I said, she’s a handful.” Captain nudges Oliver in a knowing way.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” I realize my mistake the instant the words leave my mouth. The laughter stops, and every set of eyes focuses on me.

My statement hangs in the air until Captain starts to shake, bending at the hip and slapping his knee. “Front row seat, boys, front row seat. I think our Walker has met his match.” He walks away, shaking his head while still amused.

I drop my head and wonder what the hell I just did.

Oliver goes to his desk without a word. I don’t have time to process his silence before my phone starts ringing.

“Scott,” I answer on a huff.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Emerson chirps excitedly.

My nerves immediately settle, and I lean back in my seat. “You heard from Jerry?”

“Yes, they are taking my car on Friday. I’m also getting the works, with a complete detail, tires rotated and aligned, chrome polish—everything,” she gushes, and I think back to Jerry’s face when I suggested, without argument, he take care of her.

“Glad to hear.”

“I guess I need to come down and press charges?”

“Nope, deal was no charges if he paid in full.”

She exhales loudly, and I wish like hell I could see her face. “Bummer… I wanted to have it on record.”

“I have it on record, and if he so much as looks at you wrong, you let me know.”

“What did you do?”

I think about his expression this morning when I mentioned Emerson’s name. He soon realized his threats didn’t intimidate me and his tactics were dead. Once I revealed that the misdemeanor charge would go on public record with the county and the court, he called her a useless cunt.

I may have stepped into his space a little too closely, causing him to fall backward.

He may have knocked his head on the corner of his desk hard enough to draw blood.

He may have then had me in his face with a look that dared him to say another thing about her.

He relented easily, knowing I wasn’t fucking around, and wrote a check with unsteady hands.

“Nothing. He saw the error of his ways and is ready to pay his dues.”

“Yeah right, but regardless, thank you again.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t.”

There’s a hesitation on the line before she speaks. “Well, I guess that’s it. Thank you again, Detective Scott.”

“Walker.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Walker.”

“Walker,” she says slowly with a little melody in her tone.

Damn if I don’t like the sound of it.

“I’ll call you Walker if you call me Emi.”

“Emi it is.”

There’s another pause on the line, and I wish like hell I didn’t have an audience.

“I’ll let you go. Hope to see you around, Walker.” She hangs up before I can respond, and I drop my phone to the desk.

“Emi, Emi, Emi…” I mutter under my breath, then shake my head. I’ve had three conversations with this woman, and she’s somehow managed to get under my skin.

I type her name into my database before reviewing the files on my desk.

“Scott! Where are you?” Marcus calls from the living room.

“Not home!” I yell back and hiss when the steam burns my hand.

“That’s no way to welcome your houseguest.” He walks in, shedding his coat and tie on my dining table.

“Who said you are welcome?”

“Harsh.” He jabs me in the ribs before reaching in my fridge for a beer. “What’s for dinner?”

“I’m having chicken and vegetables.”

“Any sauce on that chicken?”

“Nope.”

“What about butter on those vegetables?”

“Not a drop.” I take down two plates, knowing he’s not going away.

“Boring, but it’ll do. I’m starved.”

He sits and takes a gulp of his beer, waiting to be served. I set down our plates, get my own beer, and sit across from him. We eat in silence for a minute until he clears his throat and drops his fork on his plate unnecessarily.

“Got something on your mind?” I ask.

“How’s work?”

“Same as always.”

“Is that so?”

“We’ve had six robberies with the same MO, three of them falling on my desk. So, like I said, same as always.”

“Yet you found time to take on a certain vandalism claim.”

“Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with this town? How the hell did you even hear this? There are over a hundred and twenty thousand people in this city.”

“Maybe so, but there’s a buzz around two of those people.”

“I helped her out. It was nothing.” I take my last bite and slide my plate away.

“Nothing. So, it’s a random coincidence Emerson Baker walks into the bar last week and you can’t pull your eyes away, then she shows up at the station to file a complaint, and days later, her issue is resolved. Would that have anything to do with the mysterious calls you took over the weekend?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Just curious how someone who steers clear of any type of drama gets involved with the woman who’s known as a wild child?”

“Who said I was involved?”

“Is that how you’re going to play this?”

“Play what?”

“Tell me when you took an interest in vandalism.”

“You’re not going to drop this, are you?”

“Nope, I want to hear it from you.”

“What is it you want to hear?”

“Your plan to charm Emi.”

“What the hell makes you think I want to charm anyone? And who the fuck uses the word charm? Are you my grandma?”

“Deflection, first sign of avoidance.”

“Listen, Law Geek, don’t pull your psycho-babble on me.”

“Stop avoiding then.”

“Avoiding what?” Two can play at this game. Annoyance starts to show on his face, and I grin in satisfaction.

“Fuck you, Scott. What’s the deal with her?”

“There is no deal,” I lie easily. I’d never hear the end of it if he knew I spent an hour combing through her background today and found nothing on her record but a few speeding tickets. Half of those had been forgiven because she’d shown up to court to argue her innocence. One officer even noted in his report he’d given up just to shut her up. I fight to keep a straight face, knowing Marcus is looking for any sign of interest.

He studies me for a second, and then his lips twist. “Great. Glad to know it.” He stands, grabbing our plates and taking them to my sink. “We still watching the game here on Saturday?”

He changes the subject so easily, I become suspicious. “Yeah.”

“Okay, see ya about three.” He gets his coat and tie to leave.

“That’s it?”

“What’s it?”

“Don’t fuck around with me, Marcus. You came in here with an agenda.”

“I did, but you set me straight. You’ve made it clear there’s no interest in Emi.”

I watch him go through the house. He stops at the front door and turns to me with a wicked grin.

I know this look. It tells me whatever comes out of his mouth is going to piss me off.

“We have a new guy at the firm. He specializes in insurance. You met him briefly the other night. He’s young and hungry, has a good future ahead of him once he’s more established. Since he’s walked in the door, he’s shown persistence and dedication.” He pauses, staring at me blankly.

“Great news, Marcus. Why the hell are you telling me this?”

“Because he’s been partnered with Emi for a fraud case with her company. You’re not the only one who noticed her when she walked in the other night. Word has it that she works from home and he’d never seen her before. One look and he’s interested. He’s not shy about his intentions to ask her out. Good thing she’s single.”

My mind scans through the men with Marcus the other night, and I instantly know exactly whom Marcus is referring to. The door bangs while his words ring in my ears.

“Fuck him.” I jump up so quickly, my chair hits the floor and I’m at the door in four strides. I throw it open, ready to shout at him, but stop dead.

He’s leaning against my front porch column with his arms crossed, wearing a cocky smirk. “Not interested my ass.”

“Fuck you,” I sneer.

“A little birdie tells me that Emi and her friends are having drinks at a certain bar downtown Friday night.”

“You’re driving. Pick me up at eight, and tell that prick at your office she’s off-limits.” I slam the door in his face but can’t block out the sound of his laughter.

Son of a bitch played me, and I fell right into the trap.