Hard To Handle. Kylie Brant

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trick to romancing a woman is to do the unexpected once in a while. Now you go on home and surprise Becky. Better yet, stop for some flowers and wine first.”

      “Well…” Cal’s hesitation was minuscule. “Okay. I’ll owe you one.”

      Gabe clapped him on the back. “Damn right you will. Oh, and give Becky a big kiss for me when you see her, would you? On the mouth.”

      Cal shrugged off Gabe’s arm and headed for his car. “You’re depraved, Connally.”

      “Yeah, I am. Forget it. I’ll give it to her myself the next time I see her.” He chuckled at the obscene gesture Cal made and entered the building.

      Since it was time for a shift change, the halls of the Area One Detectives’ Division were more chaotic than normal. Winding through the maze of desks and cubicles, Gabe exchanged greetings and one-liners with his co-workers and then dropped into the chair in front of his battered metal desk. Before getting to work, he shrugged out of his coat, pulled the loosened tie from around his neck, wadded it up and jammed it in the pocket of his sports jacket. Then he slung the jacket over the back of his chair, undid another shirt button and unfastened the cuffs, rolling the sleeves to his elbows.

      “Connally, you savage. You’re a little late to be the featured matinee,” Detective Lydia Fredericks observed from her desk across the aisle. She raised her voice. “Hey, Connally’s doing a striptease over here. Could we have a show of appreciation?” There was a smattering of applause, and a wolf whistle from Lydia’s partner, Marcy Rogers. Coins rained on Gabe’s desk, courtesy of the detectives in the vicinity.

      “Thank you, thank you. You’ve been a wonderful audience.” He stood and did a quick shimmy, eliciting a heart-felt moan from Lydia and some more loose change. He scooped up the coins, frowning over the lone penny in the group. “Hey, who’s the cheapskate? Fiskes?”

      Detective Mark Fiskes grinned. “What can I say? You’re a cheap thrill, Connally.”

      “Cheap, hell.” Gabe slipped the money in his pants pocket. “I just made enough to drink all night. I’m thinking about taking a second j—” The rest of the sentence went unuttered, as the sudden studiousness of the other detectives tipped him off. He turned around, and his tone went abruptly professional.

      “Afternoon, Lieutenant.”

      “Connally.” The man nodded at a coin beside the desk that had been missed. “Taking up a collection?”

      It wasn’t uncommon for officers faced with Lieutenant Robert Burney’s stern ebony mask to feel sudden, urgent needs to be elsewhere. Fast. But Gabe couldn’t pass up the chance for a little retribution.

      “You caught me, sir. I was just collecting my daily protection money from the others.”

      “Protection money.”

      Gabe propped his hips on his desk, crossed his arms over his chest and strove to make his tone earnest. “Yessir. The rest of the guys pay me to defend them from Detective Fredericks’s compulsive stalking.” Several of the men in the vicinity snickered, and Lydia invited Gabe to take a road trip to hell. He shook his head sadly. “She’s getting bolder and bolder, sir. She follows us everywhere, making all kinds of lewd proposals. The truth is, the other guys are getting scared. I’m the only one brave enough to stand up to her.” He turned to Lydia. “This is the last time I’m going to say it, Fredericks. Get help, for godsakes. You’re getting pathetic.” He dodged the pencil she threw at him, amidst guffaws from the surrounding detectives.

      Burney’s expression didn’t change by as much as a flicker. “I’d like to see you in my office, Connally.”

      Gabe pushed away from his desk and followed in his superior’s wake. When they reached the small office, he closed the door behind him and settled into a chair in front of the lieutenant’s desk. Burney lost no time getting down to business.

      “You and Madison make any progress today on D’Brusco?”

      “Some.” Gabe stretched his legs out before him and crossed one battered shoe over the other. “Best lead we got was from a five-year-old kid who was in the alley when Lenny took off.” He filled the man in on their visit to Meghan Patterson’s apartment.

      The lieutenant leaned forward, interested. “Any chance you got a decent description of the second guy?”

      “Well, the kid described Lenny pretty well, so he might be useful if we get a lead on the other’s identity. Said the guy was thin, taller than me, and his face looked like a skull.”

      Burney’s weight shifted back in his chair, his disappointment obvious. “Great. The kid’s memory is probably influenced by a recent horror flick he watched.”

      Gabe lifted a shoulder. “Maybe. But the presence of a second guy in the apartment would explain the shots fired. That never did seem like Lenny’s style.”

      “D’Brusco might have changed his style after his last stint at Hill.”

      That was entirely possible, Gabe silently conceded. It had been courtesy of Gabe that Lenny had been the state’s guest for a second time after Gabe had busted him for fencing. D’Brusco had only been out for two years, and apparently had changed his favorite con. He’d come to Gabe and Cal’s attention recently when they caught a money-laundering assignment he figured in. Gabe still had trouble believing that Lenny had risen to such a level. Working with that kind of money meant D’Brusco was playing in the big leagues. Apparently, he’d not only changed his habits, he’d also learned some new skills in prison.

      The lieutenant was speaking again. “Just be aware that this case is attracting some attention from above. I fielded a call regarding it today from the deputy chief.”

      Gabe’s low, tuneless whistle conveyed his appreciation of the fact. Given the chain of command in the CPD, the deputy chief’s inquiry meant that the interest was being generated several authority rungs higher, maybe even from the superintendent of police himself.

      “Any clue what their interest is?”

      “That wasn’t shared with me. However, a private source informed me that Justice has been sniffing around the investigation.”

      Gabe went still. “Justice? Which agency?”

      Burney shook his head. “That I don’t know. Just thought you should be aware that the case might be getting some profile.” He stood, indicating that the meeting was at an end. Gabe’s hand was on the doorknob before the lieutenant’s wry tone sounded again.

      “Oh, and Connally—” he waited until the detective looked over his shoulder before finishing “—you might want to rethink that second job. You know how the department feels about detectives moonlighting.”

      Grinning, Gabe opened the door. “If you say so, sir, but it seems a shame to waste a god-given talent. I figure I’m a natural.”

      Too bad, he thought, an hour and a half later as he eyed the computer console before him balefully, that he wasn’t a natural at technology. The damn thing had already eaten his report once, and he’d had to painstakingly retype it. Cal would have made some wiseass comment about garbage in, garbage out, but then Cal understood things like computers and DVDs, the new technology rage that he’d once tried to explain to Gabe. His efforts had been in vain. Gabe had considered it

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