for her. Uncle Earl missed police work and wanted to be part of the fight, but she wouldn’t expose her aunt to the dangers she was facing.
Other officers soon came into the common area, often labeled the bullpen, and Drew’s uncle walked away to talk to old friends.
Hearing loud voices coming from the conference room, Beth glanced over at the closed door. “I will never understand why Della puts up with that creep.”
“All Nick did was defend the victim of an abusive husband. How did that ever get turned into a charge of police harassment?” Drew asked.
“Della changed her story. She’s now saying that she fell down. Without her testimony, and no witnesses to what actually happened, at least inside their residence, Nick’s the fall guy.”
“Owens is purposely trying to put the department on the defensive, hoping to distort the truth,” Drew said.
“Exactly. Since that’s the umpteenth call our officers have answered at Owens’s house, Ray’s only way out these days is to claim police harassment. But everyone knows the truth, so the only option Owens really has is to cut a deal of some kind.”
The door to the conference room opened and Nick came out alone.
Earl Simmons went to meet Nick just as Owens and his wife came out. With Ray in the lead, the pair hurried toward the exit. Della’s head remained down and she avoided eye contact with anyone.
Chief Franklin stepped out of the room next, and joined Nick. “You’re reinstated, Detective Blacksheep,” he said. “Pick up your service weapon and badge from the duty officer and get the MDT back in your vehicle,” he said, meaning the mobile dispatch terminal computer officers carried.
“How’s this really going down on paper?” Nick asked the chief.
“Mr. Owens will probably never admit spousal abuse, but he’s dropped his charges against you and the department and has agreed to enter anger management and couples counseling. It’s a win all around,” he said.
“I’m glad that you convinced your old friend to see reason,” Earl said to Franklin. Though he’d deliberately kept his tone casual, the point had been made. “But you’ve still got another problem—me. My niece needs police protection.”
Chief Franklin crossed his arms across his chest. “You’re assuming they’ll go after her again, Earl, and there’s no proof of that. I’m not sure I can spare any of my officers on speculation alone.”
“You didn’t have a manpower problem when you put your best detective on suspension,” Earl said, cocking his head toward Nick. “That suggests you can spare him again.”
Chief Franklin glanced toward the office area, catching Koval’s attention. “What’s your take, Harry?”
“Some protection seems appropriate,” Koval said. “The way things went down indicates a certain level of planning.”
Drew glanced around the room. She wouldn’t have minded some extra patrols around her apartment, and maybe someone who’d drop by—often—but she didn’t like being discussed as if her right to decide for herself had suddenly vanished. That’s the way it had been most of her life, but she was on her own now and didn’t have to take orders from anyone.
She was about to make her wishes known in no uncertain terms, when Captain Wright suddenly whispered something in the chief’s ear.
A moment later the chief looked up at her, then at Nick. “Detective Blacksheep, you’ve had more than your share of publicity lately. Photos were taken of you tonight by those reporters outside the building, and they’re probably already on the Internet and will be in the local paper by morning. Since you’ve become a high-profile officer, your undercover assignments are effectively over, so I’m assigning you to protect Drew Simmons until further notice. You’ll report to Detective Koval and Captain Wright. They’ll update me.”
“Chief, you can’t pull me off my cases,” Nick protested. “I’m getting close to identifying Coyote. I’ve got a photo to work with now, so it’s just a matter of time before I can get his real name, and maybe set up a sting. Let me see this one through, otherwise months of work will be lost.”
“You have your orders. Turn over your active case files, photos and all, to Detective Koval. He’ll reassign them to other detectives.”
“Wait one darned minute,” Drew said, finally managing to get a word in. “I have a say in this, too, and there’s no way I’m going into protective custody and hiding out. I’m in the middle of training for a job with this department and I need to finish what I’ve started. I support myself, and that means I need to work.”
Earl narrowed his eyes at her, then in a voice that left no doubt he was issuing a direct order, told her, “Take the protection, Drew.”
“Your job will be held for you,” Chief Franklin added, and looked at Beth, who nodded.
“Keep the reference materials and your laptop, and you can study away from the office,” Beth said.
“For the time being, I see no reason why you can’t come to work, too,” Chief Franklin added. “There’s no safer place for you than this station. Detective Blacksheep can work out the particulars for you.”
“Ms. Simmons will need a place to stay starting tonight,” Nick said.
“Accompany her to her residence so she can pick up some essentials, then take her to one of our safe houses,” Franklin said.
Drew fought hard to stay calm. She didn’t want to be placed in anyone’s care. Yet, to turn down police protection would mean risking another encounter with the men who’d come after her.
She took a deep breath. If she had to accept help, then it would be on her own terms. She’d take responsibility for herself and demand a say in every decision that affected her. Not that Nick would make that easy. He was obviously strong-willed—but so was she.
NICK LED DREW ACROSS the bullpen and picked up his badge and handgun from Captain Wright.
Nick then went to his bullpen work station and began transferring his case files to Koval’s network folder. “I could have closed this gun-running case if I’d been given just a little more time,” he said, and muttered an oath.
“This is no picnic for either of us,” Drew answered, putting on a borrowed coat. “But maybe this will be over soon. Detective Koval might find some answers after he does a little more digging.” Seeing the open skepticism on Nick’s face, she added, “But you don’t think so, do you?”
“Unless it’s an ex-boyfriend stalker, cases like these can often take weeks—or months,” he said, then finished transferring the electronic files to Koval. Taking folders containing the hard copies from his bottom drawer, he strode over to Koval’s desk and dropped them down with a thump. “My files and my notes. Now you’ve got everything.”
“You said you were close to identifying the arms dealer supplying those cartels south of the border. Just how close are you?” Koval pressed.
“I had a contact who was going to set up a buy. If the supplier matched the photo of The Coyote we’ve got on file, I was set to take him down. My contact’s
