Nightshade Cases

Chapter 10

INT. - 9th PRECINCT BULLPEN - AFTERNOON

Gerri dropped her dress jacket on the back of her office chair, the bustle of activity in the bullpen just background noise to her as her mind spun around the case, seeking out angles. She still had a few leads to chase down and, from the thick file of photos on her desk, the images from the scene came back for her to take a look at.

It distracted her from the phone call she'd fielded outside Roxy's door. A call she didn't want to think about.

"Gerri." Ray sounded upset. "You have to see this."

"See what?" She let Kinsey take on the queen, knowing her innocent friend would get played. Felt a bit guilty about it, but Kinsey's fresh face would soften up Roxy and keep her off balance for when Gerri hit her with the big guns.

"It's the body." Ray actually sounded like she was going to hyperventilate. "I can't tell you over the phone. Just come down to the morgue."

"I'm talking to a suspect, Ray. I'll be there as soon as I can." Just the tone of the medical examiner's words made Gerri shy from following through. Because, Ray didn't panic. Ray didn't overreact. Ray was a pro, and nothing shook her.

Nothing but the weird. And as much as she knew it made her a coward, Gerri wasn't ready to face it just yet.

She glanced up before she had the chance even to sit down, startled, to find Jackson standing next to her. Smirking at her. She didn't have time to wonder what the bastard's smug expression was all about before the wide shoulders of her captain appeared framed-barely-in the doorway of his office.

"Meyers!" Burly, a former football defensive lineman and all around hard ass, the dark skinned Captain Dominic King knew how to get attention with his booming voice. Gerri winced inwardly, spine straightening unconsciously. Her father taught her to respect authority and damn it, he'd done a good job. "Pierce! Get in here."

There were enough glances of apprehension and grins of mockery from the other detectives in the bullpen Gerri knew something big was up. She had, as of yet, to get on the captain's good side. Or even discover if he had a good side. Almost eight weeks into her new job on his homicide squad and she barely knew the man beyond his booming voice and rock-like glare if something went wrong. The only softness she'd seen from him was the briefest of sadness over the loss of her partner. One of the unis told her later Captain King and Joe had been beat cops together, once upon a time.

Still, he was a solid cop with an excellent record and ran a tight station. She liked that, respected it more than the swagger in Jackson's walk or the size of his gun. Gerri privately wished she didn't care so much if the captain liked her. This wasn't some awards show. But, her father's influence was a hard habit to shake from her shoulders.

Right now, all she cared about was what was up the captain's butt. One final glance at Jackson told her this new partner of hers was going to be more trouble than he was worth and was probably the source of her summons to the captain's office.

She'd find a place to dump the body where no one would ever find him.

Her own shoulders back, doing her best strut of confidence across the hardwood floor, Gerri edged out Jackson's long-legged stride just enough she beat him inside. A small victory, but one she cherished. She was the lead detective, damn it. And if she had to humiliate Pierce in front of her captain to get the punk to see it, she would.

Popularity contests didn't solve murder cases.

Captain King loomed behind his desk, so big he made the heavy wooden furniture look like it belonged in a doll house. His chair creaked under him, white dress shirt straining across his wide chest, black eyes shining with barely-suppressed irritation as he glared at the two of them. "Close the damned door and sit."

Gerri calmly took the first chair, an old-fashioned wooden one with rounded arms and a firm seat. That, of course, left Jackson to do as he was told. She didn't miss the flicker of the captain's gaze to her as her partner turned and almost-but not quite-slammed the smoked-glass entry before clomping his way in his fancy dress shoes to the second chair. It squealed softly under him as he sat, the exact reason Gerri picked this one. She almost grinned, remembering Joe's reaction to her startled first sit down and wondered if the gleam in the captain's eye was humor or more annoyance.

Jackson's hesitation to settle mirrored her first experience, but the captain was already speaking through the final metal squeak. Gerri caught her partner's wince and knew her lip twitched. She just couldn't help it.

Fortunately, the captain was looking down and missed it. "Tell me why, Detective Meyers," he said her name like gravel being rolled around in a steel barrel, "there is a civilian investigating one of my murders."

Considering she was the one doing all the work... Gerri held her temper. She understood this world, the challenges in it. Knew it long before she chose to become a cop. Her father warned her, didn't he? Trained her to take it, even if only on the outside while the inside ran to catch up. It wasn't for those who couldn't take the pressure.

"If you're referring to Dr. Kinsey DanAllart," Gerri said, cool and professional, focused completely on the captain, "please note the request form I filed with the commissioner's office, approved three days before this murder took place. It should be official record by now." She didn't bother looking sideways at Jackson. But he had to be pissed he'd missed it. What, did he think she was a total i***t? Of course she had permission from the highest authority she could muster.

There was no way she would purposely piss off her boss a mere two months into a job she loved.

The captain looked up, eyes narrowing. His dark brow furrowed, making black lines in his deep complexion. "You may have permission from One Hundred P.P., Detective," he said, "but you didn't ask for mine." And yet, there was a softening in his tone, a respect, even. At least, that was how Gerri read him. For the first time, she felt her insides relax in his presence, instincts uncoiling and sighing out a clenched breath of relief. They might not be besties, but she had her boss's attention.

From the way Jackson shuffled his feet next to her, the backstabbing asshole guessed the same. And that his own star was rapidly crashing to the ground. She'd trample it soon enough. After he suffered some.

"Captain," he said, protest clear in the faint whine behind his voice. "We can't just let civvies have the run of crime scenes."

Captain King's giant head snapped around, thick lips tight. Gerri was glad that scowl was aimed at Jackson. Her father was the master of the cop glare, Dutch's angry stare legendary in their neighborhood. She almost grinned, wondered then if the captain was a soft and squishy teddy bear under that veneer, just like her dad. Enjoyment replaced nerves as Jackson shifted again. Served him right for being an asshole. "Since this was your initial protest, Detective," he stressed the word with a rumbling purr of anger, "it was up to you to confirm Dr. DanAllart was, in fact, not approved for consult duty." Jackson shifted again, drew a breath, but the captain cut him off by slamming shut the file in front of him. His big head swiveled on an impossibly thick neck, gaze all over Gerri again. "Tell me about her."

Gerri sat up a little straighter. While she had gone through the proper channels, her captain was right. He could kybosh Kinsey's ability to assist. And since Gerri needed her for the weird ones-let there only be one or two, please-she knew what she said next was important.

For her own sanity.

"Dr. DanAllart is a cultural anthropologist with a secondary specialty in symbology at Silver City University." Gerri felt like she was being tested, as the captain's blank expression gave her nothing. So much for images of teddy bears. But, her father's voice was in her heart as she went on, confident in her ability and in Kinsey. "Her specialty is occult and religious dogma applied to societal evolution." Not that she knew what the terms really meant. She took them from the college website. But it sounded good. Gerri gestured at the file on his desk. "Considering the nature of the murder, I thought it wise to ask Dr. DanAllart to assist in identifying the symbols to see if, in fact, they were merely an attempt by the murderer to distract us from the facts or part of some ritual we need to understand."

The captain's short nod relieved the pressure inside her. Gerri didn't realize until he gave his faint approval just how wound up she was. "Has the doctor been helpful thus far?"

"She has." Gerri spoke up again before Jackson could interrupt. "In fact, she's identified a connection between one of the symbols and a biker gang out of L.A. that may have fresh ties in Silver City."

"Then what are you doing in my office?" The captain waved them both off, turning to his computer monitor, giant fingers surely too big to maneuver the keys of his keyboard. "As long as your pet civilian doesn't bring us bad press, I won't pull the plug." Gerri wanted to smile at Jackson, just to rub it in, but knew it was childish. Not that it would have mattered if they'd been alone. She'd take childish. "Go catch the killer and stop pestering me."

Jackson stood first, turning to go, while Gerri rose more slowly. She heard the door open behind her, the clomp of his feet, just as the captain turned back to her again.

"Meyers." His tone was soft, so strange. He gestured to her to sit again and she did, mostly out of shock at the change in his expression. "You're good at what you do. That's why we recruited you." She didn't miss Boston. And, she did. But this job had been too good to turn down, the offer of a lead detective role in a new city luring her to the coast. And now, here the captain was proving to her she'd chosen well. "I've had enough time to see you at work to know we made the right choice." Gerri held her breath. Wait, what? He never gave her a single indication of any of this before. A thrill of delight raced through her, one she kept tightly capped. As she repeated to herself she didn't need approval. All the while she softened toward him, filed him carefully under respected men she could count on, right next to Joe and her father. The captain sighed, broad shoulders slumping just a little, sunlight turning the dark skin of his cheek to chocolate. "Joe agreed with me, and I trusted his judgment. He thought you were special." Gerri was shocked to discover she choked up at the praise, cleared her throat, looked away from her captain's watching eyes.

"Thank you, Sir," she said, heart swelling with pride. "I do my best."

"You do more than that." The captain hesitated before going on. "You have the highest arrest rate of any detective I've ever met. Only one unsolved case in a ten year career in homicide." Gerri flinched from the words, deflating slightly though her record was both a source of personal achievement and discomfort. She didn't want to think about her one lost case. Ever. Or about the reason she had such a great record. Not when her gut churned with tingling, making her afraid she was a freak every time it told her exactly what she needed to know. That couldn't be normal, could it? "I'm going to give you leeway on this Dr. DanAllart. And anything else you need. Until you prove to me I can't trust you."

Gerri's head snapped up, eyes meeting his as she answered that challenge with one of her own, as she would to her father. "Never, Sir."

He nodded, actually smiled. She was surprised again, to realize how handsome he was when he wasn't scowling like a demon. "Better not." He sat back in his chair. "How's Pierce working out?"

She laughed. Out loud. A bark of a sound that hurt her chest, though companionable enough. "Peachy," she said.

"Not my first choice, either." Nice to know the captain was on her side. What an enlightening conversation this turned out to be. Gerri's mix of relief and belonging made her slightly giddy. "But, you're stuck with his ass."

She knew better than to protest, though she wanted to. "Yes, Sir."

The captain grinned openly this time. "You don't even want to know why?"

"Does it matter?" Gerri stood. "I'm assuming you have your reasons."

The captain just stared at her a long moment. "Someone does," he said, so softly she almost missed it. "Get back to work and catch me a killer."

Gerri turned and left his office, closing the door behind her. The glass rattled under the pressure. She knew how it felt. Now she was out of the captain's sight, she felt rather shaken herself. What was that? Two months of barking, snapping, rumbling monster and suddenly she's good to go?

She was happy for the chance to prove herself. That was all she ever asked for.

As she turned to head to her chair, she spotted an opportunity she couldn't pass up. Jackson sat at his desk, hunched over a file in front of him. Her photos. The fact he had her work in his grubby hands made the next few seconds all the more righteous. Gerri stepped in, one hand on the back of his chair, the other landing in the middle of the photographs of the crowd from the murder scene as she grinned down at him. Jackson's anger burned in his eyes as she spoke.

"You try that again," she said, softly, sweetly, lifting one hand to adjust his tie with a little more force than necessary, "and I'll make sure you don't. Ever again."

Whistling, she straightened and retrieved her jacket. She'd planned some desk time herself, but he could handle it. She was more interested in fresh air and a little road trip.

***