won’t, baby. I won’t!” she swore.
“If she doesn’t press charges, then you’re looking at aggravated assault, resisting arrest, and a few other minor infractions.”
“Will I have to serve some time?”
“Have you been arrested before?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Five-year stint for attempted manslaughter.”
“What’s your name?”
“Fernando Rodriguez.”
“You still on parole, Fernando?”
“Nah, parole was up two weeks ago.”
“OK.” She thought for a moment. “Then you’ll probably have to be behind bars until this gets worked out. Maybe a month or two?”
“A month?!”
“Or two,” she reiterated. “Come on. Let’s be honest. After five years? That’s nothing. Next time? Keep it private.”
She was right in front of him, close enough to disarm him and free the victim, but he was already calming down. Avery had seen people like him before when dealing with some of the Boston gangs, men who’d been beaten down for so long that the slightest infraction could make them snap. But ultimately, when given a chance to relax and take stock of their situation, their story was always the same: they just wanted to be comforted, helped, and made to feel like they weren’t alone in the world.
“You used to be a lawyer, right?” the man said.
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “But then I made a stupid mistake and my life turned to shit. Don’t be like me,” she warned. “Let’s end this now.”
“What about her?” He pointed at his wife.
“Why would you want to be with someone like her?” Avery asked.
“I love her.”
Avery sucked in her lips and challenged him with a stare.
“Does this look like love?”
The question seemed to genuinely bother him. With a furrowed brow, he glanced from Avery to his wife and back to Avery again.
“No,” he said and lowered his gun. “This ain’t no way to love.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Avery said. “Give me that gun and let these guys take you in quietly and I’ll promise you something.”
“What promise?”
“I promise I’ll check in on you and ensure you get treated right. You don’t look like a bad guy to me, Fernando Rodriguez. You just look like you’ve had a rough life.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” he said.
“No,” she agreed. “I don’t.”
She held out a hand.
He let go of his hostage and handed over the gun. Instantly, his wife scrambled across the lawn and ran to safety. The aggressive cop that had been prepared to open fire came forward with a snarling look of thinly veiled jealousy.
“I’ll take it from here,” he sneered.
Avery got in his face.
“Do me a favor,” she whispered. “Stop acting like you’re better than the people you arrest and treat him like a human being. It might help.”
The cop blushed in anger and seemed ready to push past and destroy the tranquil vibe that Avery had created. Thankfully, the second officer reached the Latino man first and handled him with care. “I’m going to cuff you now,” he said softly. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get treated right. I have to read you your rights. Is that OK? You have the right to remain silent…”
Avery backed away.
The Latino aggressor glanced up. The two held each other’s gaze for a moment. He offered a nod of thanks, and Avery responded with a nod of her own. “I meant what I said,” she reiterated before she turned to leave.
Ramirez had a big smile on his face.
“Shit, Avery. That was hot.”
The flirtation bothered Avery.
“Makes me sick when cops treat suspects like animals,” she said and turned back to watch the arrest. “I bet half the shootings in Boston could be avoided with a little respect.”
“Maybe if there was a female commissioner like you in charge,” he joked.
“Maybe,” she replied and seriously thought about the implications.
Her walkie-talkie went off.
Captain O’Malley’s voice came over the static.
“Black,” he said. “Black, where are you?”
She picked up.
“I’m here, Cap.”
“Keep your phone turned on from now on,” he said. “How many times do I have to tell you that? And get over to the Boston Harbor Marina off Marginal Street in East Boston. We have a situation here.”
Avery frowned.
“Isn’t East Boston A7 territory?” she asked.
“Forget about that,” he said. “Drop whatever you’re doing and get over here as fast as you can. We’ve got a murder.”
CHAPTER TWO
Avery reached the Boston Harbor & Shipyard by the Callahan Tunnel, which connected the North End to East Boston. The marina was off Marginal Street, right along the water.
The place was crawling with police.
“Holy shit,” Ramirez said. “What the hell happened here?”
Avery took it slow into the marina. Police cars were parked in a haphazard pattern, along with an ambulance. Crowds of people that wanted to use their boats on this bright morning ambled about, wondering what they were supposed to do.
She parked and they both got out and flashed their badges.
Beyond the main gate and building was an expansive dock. Two piers jutted out from the dock in a V shape. Most of the police had clustered around the close end of one dock.
In the distance stood Captain O’Malley, dressed in a dark suit and tie. He was in deep discussion with another man in full police uniform. By the double stripes on his chest, Avery guessed the other guy was captain of the A7, which handled all of East Boston.
“Look at this character.” Ramirez pointed at the man in uniform. “Did he just come from a ceremony or something?”
Officers from the A7 gave them hard stares.
“What’s
