Criminal Investigation Division
Tuesday, October 25, 6:35 a.m.
Asher tossed his keys on his desk. This was way too early to be at the office. He scrubbed a hand over his face. Holt would bitch ’cause he hadn’t shaved. How could he shave when he was up all night watching her damned neighbors’ house? He had no business getting personally involved, but damn it he couldn’t help himself. He’d run into Olivia Shelton at the supermarket Sunday evening and he’d seen the fresh bruises on her throat. She’d cried and begged him not to tell Holt.
He’d ended up promising her he would keep her secret this time. What he really wanted to do was catch that husband of hers in just the right place so he could give the bastard a taste of his own medicine. Since that hadn’t proven possible so far, he spent his nights watching her house. He’d doze off after all the lights went out. The husband left every morning about six to head to the garage where he was a mechanic.
Doing this forever wasn’t feasible. At some point the woman would have to do the right thing or Asher would kill the guy and then he’d be fucked. Not a good scenario for him. Why was it guys like Wesley Shelton never turned up the victims of homicide investigations? Shelton was more likely to become the killer than the victim. Being the coward he was, his victims would typically be female and far weaker than him.
“Piece of shit.”
Coffee. He needed coffee bad. Between the twisted case they were working and this extracurricular activity, he was dead on his feet. He straightened his shirt, draped his tie around his neck and proceeded to knot the damned thing as he made his way to the lounge. He filled the brew basket and then poured in the water. He had no idea how long it would take to brew the pot. Coffee was always done when he came in.
The older guys preferred to make the coffee. They swore the younger generation didn’t know how to make good coffee. This morning Asher felt anything but young. He felt as old as hell.
When the machine stopped dripping he poured a cup and took a sip. He groaned as the hot brew slid down his throat. “Oh yeah.” Now, that was a cup of coffee.
He headed for the bullpen. Might as well get started reviewing the list of POIs they needed to interview again. At this point it felt as if they were repeating the same steps over and over and getting nowhere. They hadn’t found anyone who’d seen or heard a damned thing beyond the family who’d noticed the old Lincoln Town Car and that lead had turned up nothing so far. Holt and Owens insisted they had to interview the whole damned list of names again. And again.
How many times and ways could they ask the same questions?
He stalled before he reached his desk. Devine was here. Asher started to say good morning and to ask him why he’d come in so early but his jaw locked. Devine was going through Bobbie’s desk. It had taken Asher and everyone who worked at CID a couple weeks to get used to the new guy. Even now, some mornings Asher walked in and expected to see Newt making the rounds. He’d be wearing the blue suit he loved so much and sporting that damned flattop he’d worn since he was fifteen. Not once had Asher ever caught Newt pilfering through Bobbie’s desk.
Devine looked up and spotted Asher. He smiled and said, “Morning, buddy. You’re mighty early.”
For a split second Asher didn’t respond. The smile was right, Devine’s voice was right, but that moment he’d hesitated between seeing Asher come through the door and smiling had missed a beat.
“Pulled an all-nighter outside a vic’s home.” Asher walked to his own cubicle and set down his coffee. “I just made a fresh pot of coffee.”
“You’re a braver man than me.” Devine laughed. “The last time I tried to make a pot I thought the desk sergeant was going to shoot me.”
Asher smiled. “Yeah, some of these guys are a little territorial.”
Devine held up an evidence bag. “Finally.” He closed what sounded like a drawer. “I came in early to take this back to the lab for Bobbie and I had a hell of a time finding it.” He breezed past Asher’s cubicle. “I’ll be back in a few.”
Asher gave him a nod and turned back to his coffee. Evidently he was jumpy this morning, seeing trouble everywhere he looked. He needed a good night’s sleep.
“Bauer!” Devine shouted from the corridor.
“Fuck.” Asher set his coffee down again and hauled his weary body out of his chair. “What the hell is it?”
“There’s a guy in the parking lot taking a big-ass wrench to your car.”
Asher pushed past Devine and bolted out the front door just as his windshield shattered. “Motherfucker!”
The guy swung the tool again, taking out the passenger window. When he drew back once more, Asher grabbed him by the arm and twisted. The wrench hit the ground.
Wesley Shelton.
“You just made a big mistake, pal.” Asher shoved him backward.
Shelton regained his balance and charged Asher.
Asher hit the asphalt. The air burst from his lungs. Shelton straddled him and pounded a fist into his face before Asher could react. His jaw absorbed the blow. His lip cracked and the taste of blood filled his mouth.
Fingers curled into a tight fist, Asher plowed his right hand into the bastard’s face. Then he bucked, throwing him off. In the next second Asher was on top of him, his Glock shoved into his face. Fear widened Shelton’s right eye, his left was swiftly closing from the blow Asher had landed.
“You’re under arrest, asshole.”
“Stay away from my wife.” Shelton went for another punch.
Asher blocked the blow with his left arm and shoved the muzzle of the Glock into his throat. “You do that again and my finger might just slip, you piece of shit. The only person who needs to stay away from your wife is you.”
Shelton sneered up at him.
“Uniforms are on the way,” Devine said.
Asher got to his feet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Read him his rights. I don’t want to mess this one up. This dumbass assaulted me.” He looked at his Mustang and groaned. “God damn it.”
Shelton kept his mouth shut as Devine cuffed him and recited the Miranda. Asher had to walk away. He couldn’t believe the dumb fuck was stupid enough to show up on city property at the damned Criminal Investigation Division and try something like this.
Bobbie’s Challenger rolled into the lot. She parked and jumped out of the car. Asher looked back at his car and groaned again. “Shit.” He’d just gotten it back from the shop.
“What’s going on?” Bobbie hustled over to where Asher stood staring at his damaged vehicle. She glanced over at Devine who was making sure the uniforms took care of Shelton.
Asher jerked his head in that direction. “He’s the husband who beats Holt’s neighbor.” He set his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Thought he could scare me, I guess.”
“Why would he want to scare you?” Bobbie had that look. The one that said she suspected Asher had done something he shouldn’t.
“I’ve been watching their house at night.” He shrugged. “Just to make sure she and the kid are okay. I guess he noticed.”
Bobbie smiled. “Wait. I thought you weren’t a nice guy?” She punched him on the shoulder. “Didn’t we have that conversation?”
“Whatever.”
“Come on.” She wrapped her arm around his. “I’ll help you clean up that handsome mug.”
He looked back at his car and growled. “I should just get a new car.”
“That might not be a bad idea,” she said.
Bobbie ushered him into the ladies’ room and sat him down on a toilet seat.
“This is weird.” Asher shuddered. “I shouldn’t be in here.”
Bobbie laughed. He liked the sound. It had taken her a long time to learn to laugh again. She gently cleaned his split lip with a wet paper towel. He winced and growled and she laughed some more.
“You sound awfully chipper this morning,” he ventured. “Is there something you need to tell me, Detective Gentry?”
She grinned. “Actually, I do have a bone to pick with you.”
He kept to himself the crude remark about the bone he could give her. He respected Bobbie too much to say shit like that. Still, it crossed his mind.
“So pick,” he told her.
“You told Devine about Nick Shade.”
His first instinct was to deny the charge. “If I did I didn’t mean to.”
Bobbie frowned at him. “Explain what that answer means.”
“The first week after he transferred in we might have had a few beers together.” He shrugged. “It’s possible I mentioned things I shouldn’t have. That was before I started AA,” he tacked on.
She exhaled a big breath. “Don’t let it happen again.”
He held up two fingers, then remembered it was supposed to be three. “Scout’s honor.”
Bobbie smiled. “I’m proud of you, Asher.”
He stood and pulled her against his chest in a hug. “I’m proud of you, too.”
They stayed that way for a long time. It wasn’t often that either of them let their emotions show.
Maybe that was something else that needed to change.