Read Online Deadly Pursuit (SCVC Taskforce) by Misty Evans - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Misty Evans
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salt liberally over the chips in the basket between them. “Have you ever been shot?”
Cooper helped himself to a chip and dipped it in the salsa bowl. “Twice. Knifed twice too. Twenty-seven stitches on top of the knife wounds. Took a nail in my foot from a pneumatic nail gun once. Broke a rib and bruised a couple others.”
Celina stopped chewing. Swallowed, her eyes doubling in her face. “Jesus, Cooper. All in the line of duty?”
He shrugged. “Just doin’ my job.”
“Sounds like you’re lucky to be alive.”
He’d seen twilight a few times. Hated the thought of dying almost as much as he hated drug dealers and murderers. “I am.”
The drinks arrived and he tried not to watch the way Celina licked salt off the rim of her margarita glass while she watched him over it. “Ever think about quitting?”
“Only after Dyer was injured.”
“Because you felt responsible.”
“Hell, yes,” Cooper said. “I was responsible.”
Celina started to argue, seemed to think better of it, and took a sip through her straw. “Ever had your boss insist you do something you knew was stupid?”
Picking up the bottle of hot sauce, he poured a generous amount into the salsa bowl, fished another tortilla chip out of the basket and tested it. Better. “Sure.”
“And?” She gave him a go on look.
“First time, I was a rookie like you; only I was a street cop. I helped some detectives on my beat find a serial killer, big guy, ex-heavyweight champ, bigger than me. Abducted teenage girls in fast food parking lots and took them home. McKiller we dubbed him.”
He chewed, swallowed. “Guy dumped their bodies in abandoned buildings around L.A. once he got his rocks off. We got evidence tying him to three murders, had an arrest warrant, but the detective in charge was a scrawny guy. Called me in for backup to take out the front door and McKiller at the same time. From the evidence I’d gathered, I thought McKiller might have another kid in his house, possibly still alive. If we busted in, the girl might die. I wanted to sneak in through a basement window and try to save the kid first. Detective axed the idea, told me if we didn’t hit McKiller front and back doors, he might get away and more kids would end up dead. I took the front door, ended up chasing the guy to the basement. Took a healthy beating.”
“But you caught him?”
“Yes,” Cooper said, but hated admitting the rest. “But he killed the girl in the basement before I even got down the steps.”
“Damn,” Celina swore under her breath.
“Yeah.”
They sat in silence for a minute, the music from the guitar player and the conversation of the few scattered diners rising and falling around them. “That’s why you’re such a good boss,” she said. “You listen to your agents. Respect their gut feelings and don’t put them in no-win situations.”
It would have been easy to let her think he was the perfect boss she described, but it wasn’t true. “I’ve learned a lot of lessons through the years, Celina. Some of them the hard way, but the School of Hard Knocks is an effective teacher. The Academy teaches you what to do in the field. Hard Knocks teaches you what not to do in the field. Both are important.”
Celina tried out his salsa, spilling a drop on the table and another on her chin. She licked sauce off her bottom lip, and then reached for her drink. Taking a long sip, she blinked tears out of her eyes and wiped off her chin with a napkin. “Forester and Quarters put me on administrative leave when I questioned their motivation today.”
“On what charges?”
She ticked the offenses off on her fingers. “Incompetence. Defiance of a direct order. Entering scene of a take-down unarmed. Endangering life of another agent. Failure to announce to criminal I was FBI. Failure to instruct criminal to put down his weapon.” She grabbed another chip, pointed at the air. “That one really got me. When exactly was I supposed to instruct
Cooper helped himself to a chip and dipped it in the salsa bowl. “Twice. Knifed twice too. Twenty-seven stitches on top of the knife wounds. Took a nail in my foot from a pneumatic nail gun once. Broke a rib and bruised a couple others.”
Celina stopped chewing. Swallowed, her eyes doubling in her face. “Jesus, Cooper. All in the line of duty?”
He shrugged. “Just doin’ my job.”
“Sounds like you’re lucky to be alive.”
He’d seen twilight a few times. Hated the thought of dying almost as much as he hated drug dealers and murderers. “I am.”
The drinks arrived and he tried not to watch the way Celina licked salt off the rim of her margarita glass while she watched him over it. “Ever think about quitting?”
“Only after Dyer was injured.”
“Because you felt responsible.”
“Hell, yes,” Cooper said. “I was responsible.”
Celina started to argue, seemed to think better of it, and took a sip through her straw. “Ever had your boss insist you do something you knew was stupid?”
Picking up the bottle of hot sauce, he poured a generous amount into the salsa bowl, fished another tortilla chip out of the basket and tested it. Better. “Sure.”
“And?” She gave him a go on look.
“First time, I was a rookie like you; only I was a street cop. I helped some detectives on my beat find a serial killer, big guy, ex-heavyweight champ, bigger than me. Abducted teenage girls in fast food parking lots and took them home. McKiller we dubbed him.”
He chewed, swallowed. “Guy dumped their bodies in abandoned buildings around L.A. once he got his rocks off. We got evidence tying him to three murders, had an arrest warrant, but the detective in charge was a scrawny guy. Called me in for backup to take out the front door and McKiller at the same time. From the evidence I’d gathered, I thought McKiller might have another kid in his house, possibly still alive. If we busted in, the girl might die. I wanted to sneak in through a basement window and try to save the kid first. Detective axed the idea, told me if we didn’t hit McKiller front and back doors, he might get away and more kids would end up dead. I took the front door, ended up chasing the guy to the basement. Took a healthy beating.”
“But you caught him?”
“Yes,” Cooper said, but hated admitting the rest. “But he killed the girl in the basement before I even got down the steps.”
“Damn,” Celina swore under her breath.
“Yeah.”
They sat in silence for a minute, the music from the guitar player and the conversation of the few scattered diners rising and falling around them. “That’s why you’re such a good boss,” she said. “You listen to your agents. Respect their gut feelings and don’t put them in no-win situations.”
It would have been easy to let her think he was the perfect boss she described, but it wasn’t true. “I’ve learned a lot of lessons through the years, Celina. Some of them the hard way, but the School of Hard Knocks is an effective teacher. The Academy teaches you what to do in the field. Hard Knocks teaches you what not to do in the field. Both are important.”
Celina tried out his salsa, spilling a drop on the table and another on her chin. She licked sauce off her bottom lip, and then reached for her drink. Taking a long sip, she blinked tears out of her eyes and wiped off her chin with a napkin. “Forester and Quarters put me on administrative leave when I questioned their motivation today.”
“On what charges?”
She ticked the offenses off on her fingers. “Incompetence. Defiance of a direct order. Entering scene of a take-down unarmed. Endangering life of another agent. Failure to announce to criminal I was FBI. Failure to instruct criminal to put down his weapon.” She grabbed another chip, pointed at the air. “That one really got me. When exactly was I supposed to instruct
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