Read Online On the Grind (2009) by Stephen - Scully 08 Cannell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stephen - Scully 08 Cannell
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glared at me.
"Is this dickhead on the job down here already?" She sounded amazed. Her voice was full of contempt and she never took those ice-blue eyes off me.
"You're talking about one of Haven Park's finest," Alonzo said. "And I should caution you against calling my probationer a dickhead, because it pisses me off."
"Didn't take him long, did it? But then, you flush a toilet anywhere in L . A . and the shit always comes out here in Haven Park."
"Why are you still following me around?" I growled. "My case in L . A . is closed. No charges filed. This constitutes harassment."
"I work down here," she shot back. "This is m y beat. I'm on th e f ederal gun squad, remember? All the illegal firearms in So Cal are coming into L . A . through this town. I'm here to shut that down."
"You need to go get straightened out with Mayor Bratano on that," Alonzo said. "We got a big jurisdictional overlap here. Our department is all over the Eighteenth Street gun-smuggling problem. We don't want federal help."
"You aren't doing anything, except cashing envelopes full of payoff money."
"You got some evidence to go with that, or are you just showing off for your crew cut over there?"
Love's lanky build was tense. She stood with her feet spread defiantly, facing us down under dull streetlamps.
"I'm now a duly sworn member of the Haven Park Police Department," I said hotly. "If I see you behind me again, I'm going to take appropriate action."
"Do whatever pleases you," she snapped back.
"Ophelia, let's go," her young partner said, shifting his weigh t u neasily.
She took her time as she turned and they both got back in the Chevy and pulled out.
"Little history between you two?" Alonzo asked.
"That bitch is the reason I got thrown out of L . A ."
Alonzo Bell dropped me in front of the impound yard and waited as I got my car. There was a Hispanic man waiting just behind the fence. He opened the gate, handed me the key to the MDX and watched as I started it. I noticed one or two of the cars we'd towed this afternoon sitting under the halogen lights in the lot, all of them sporting CHACON FOR MAYOR stickers.
As I pulled out, Alonzo stepped over and leaned into my passenger window. "Coming back to A Fuego?"
"Think I'm gonna look for a new hotel and hit the sack," I replied. "See you in the morning."
"Good first day, partner," Alonzo said, holding up his envelope.
"Good first day," I agreed, holding up mine. Then I put the MDX in gear and pulled out, leaving him standing there.
Chapter 13
It took me all of five minutes to get out of Haven Park. My head throbbed and my shoulders were tight with tension. I drove toward downtown L . A . and finally pulled into a garage on Sixth Street that housed a high-tech custom car stereo shop.
I'd called ahead and a guy I'd known since I busted him for illegal wiretaps ten years ago was waiting for me. He'd done six months in county, but he was an electronics genius, so after he got out I helped him get a job here. His name was Calvin Epps, but everybody called him Harpo because, except for his ebony skin color, he was a dead ringer for the late Harpo Marx. He was still the best wiretap guy I knew.
"How you been, Shane?" Harpo said as I pulled in and shut off my headlights.
"Okay, I guess."
"I heard what happened at Parker Center," he said. "Couple a blues walking a beat down here told me about it. You'll make it , man. Same as me. Everything looks better after some time passes."
"Thanks, Harpo." I'd already told him what I needed on the phone. "You straight on all this?" I asked, as I got out of the MDX.
He nodded. "Leave your car here. I'll loan you my extra van. I ' ll be done by eight tomorrow morning just like you wanted."
We swapped keys and after saying goodnight I got into his old, primer-painted '86 Chevy van and drove out.
It took me almost thirty minutes with the Dodgers baseball traffic to get on the 110 Freeway. I kept a wary eye on my rearview mirror to make sure I wasn't
"Is this dickhead on the job down here already?" She sounded amazed. Her voice was full of contempt and she never took those ice-blue eyes off me.
"You're talking about one of Haven Park's finest," Alonzo said. "And I should caution you against calling my probationer a dickhead, because it pisses me off."
"Didn't take him long, did it? But then, you flush a toilet anywhere in L . A . and the shit always comes out here in Haven Park."
"Why are you still following me around?" I growled. "My case in L . A . is closed. No charges filed. This constitutes harassment."
"I work down here," she shot back. "This is m y beat. I'm on th e f ederal gun squad, remember? All the illegal firearms in So Cal are coming into L . A . through this town. I'm here to shut that down."
"You need to go get straightened out with Mayor Bratano on that," Alonzo said. "We got a big jurisdictional overlap here. Our department is all over the Eighteenth Street gun-smuggling problem. We don't want federal help."
"You aren't doing anything, except cashing envelopes full of payoff money."
"You got some evidence to go with that, or are you just showing off for your crew cut over there?"
Love's lanky build was tense. She stood with her feet spread defiantly, facing us down under dull streetlamps.
"I'm now a duly sworn member of the Haven Park Police Department," I said hotly. "If I see you behind me again, I'm going to take appropriate action."
"Do whatever pleases you," she snapped back.
"Ophelia, let's go," her young partner said, shifting his weigh t u neasily.
She took her time as she turned and they both got back in the Chevy and pulled out.
"Little history between you two?" Alonzo asked.
"That bitch is the reason I got thrown out of L . A ."
Alonzo Bell dropped me in front of the impound yard and waited as I got my car. There was a Hispanic man waiting just behind the fence. He opened the gate, handed me the key to the MDX and watched as I started it. I noticed one or two of the cars we'd towed this afternoon sitting under the halogen lights in the lot, all of them sporting CHACON FOR MAYOR stickers.
As I pulled out, Alonzo stepped over and leaned into my passenger window. "Coming back to A Fuego?"
"Think I'm gonna look for a new hotel and hit the sack," I replied. "See you in the morning."
"Good first day, partner," Alonzo said, holding up his envelope.
"Good first day," I agreed, holding up mine. Then I put the MDX in gear and pulled out, leaving him standing there.
Chapter 13
It took me all of five minutes to get out of Haven Park. My head throbbed and my shoulders were tight with tension. I drove toward downtown L . A . and finally pulled into a garage on Sixth Street that housed a high-tech custom car stereo shop.
I'd called ahead and a guy I'd known since I busted him for illegal wiretaps ten years ago was waiting for me. He'd done six months in county, but he was an electronics genius, so after he got out I helped him get a job here. His name was Calvin Epps, but everybody called him Harpo because, except for his ebony skin color, he was a dead ringer for the late Harpo Marx. He was still the best wiretap guy I knew.
"How you been, Shane?" Harpo said as I pulled in and shut off my headlights.
"Okay, I guess."
"I heard what happened at Parker Center," he said. "Couple a blues walking a beat down here told me about it. You'll make it , man. Same as me. Everything looks better after some time passes."
"Thanks, Harpo." I'd already told him what I needed on the phone. "You straight on all this?" I asked, as I got out of the MDX.
He nodded. "Leave your car here. I'll loan you my extra van. I ' ll be done by eight tomorrow morning just like you wanted."
We swapped keys and after saying goodnight I got into his old, primer-painted '86 Chevy van and drove out.
It took me almost thirty minutes with the Dodgers baseball traffic to get on the 110 Freeway. I kept a wary eye on my rearview mirror to make sure I wasn't
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