Cavanaugh's Secret Delivery Page 6
“Yes,” she cried, saying the word with such emphasis her eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of her head if she squeezed them any more.
Toni wasn’t sure what to expect. Part of her thought he’d tell the woman no. Instead, she heard Dugan say, “You know the game, Linda. You have to give me something to get something.”
Toni looked at him. Then he was going to give the woman something?
He’d done this before, she realized. It made him no better than some of the people he was looking to put away, but she supposed there was some sort of justification for what he was doing. In his place, she wasn’t sure just what she would do, especially if she had something in her possession to give to the woman.
“I don’t have anything to tell you!” Linda cried, desperate.
“Think, Linda,” Dugan said calmly, his voice a direct contrast to hers. “You haven’t heard of anything going down? No shipments supposedly coming in now or at a later date?”
“Later, maybe,” Linda said, her eyes really wild now as she seemed to struggle to think. “Later,” she repeated. “Out of Baja,” she added. “The fifteenth of next month. Maybe the twentieth.” She licked her lips as she scratched her arms. She continued scratching, all but taking the skin off.
“Is it a small shipment?” Dugan asked.
She shook her head, her matted head moving like a separate entity about her head. “No, not small. Large. I overheard them. They said it was a large shipment.” Her breathing grew a little more shallow. Whether it was the excitement of what she was saying or the idea that she was going to get something to alleviate the awful craving she was experiencing wasn’t clear. “When they saw me, they stopped talking, but I heard what I heard,” she maintained.
“I’m going to have to check it out, Linda,” Dugan said.
“I’m not lying,” Linda cried. “You know me. Please,” she begged. “You said if I told you something, you’d get me something.”
“And I will,” he told her.
There were tears in her eyes as she clutched his arm. “Now!
Chapter 6
“Linda, listen to me carefully,” Dugan said, getting in close to the woman and articulating every word slowly. “I need to know where and when this shipment is coming in,” he told her in the same calm voice he’d been using.
Rather than answering, Linda let loose with an exasperated scream that sounded as if it had come out of a much larger woman. Then, just as the police officer began to hurry over toward their table to subdue her if necessary, Linda said, “All right, all right.”
Dugan raised his hand and waved the police officer back. He never took his eyes off Linda.
“I’m waiting,” he told her.
Linda slanted a look toward the woman beside Dugan. It was obvious that trust was very much of an issue for the heroin addict.
“This is just for your ears only,” Linda told him.
He glanced at Toni. “Would you mind?” he asked. His tone told her that it didn’t matter if she did or not, he needed to have her walk away for the time being.
Toni wasn’t happy about it, but there was nothing she could do, so she got up from the table and walked over to the far side of the room. Only then, when she was satisfied that she wouldn’t be overheard, did Linda lean into Dugan and give him the information he was asking for.
Finished, Linda straightened up again. “Okay?” she asked, a performer eager for evaluation. “Can I get my hit now?”
Dugan beckoned the police officer forward. “Give her what we talked about earlier, Seth,” he told the officer.
The vagueness of Dugan’s response disturbed the woman. “I’m getting a hit, right?” Linda asked. “You promised. You said—” Taking her arm, the officer began to lead her away.
“You’ll get your hit,” Dugan told her as the woman was taken out of the communal room.
Toni stared at him, stunned. “You’re actually having them give her drugs?”
“Methadone,” Dugan told Toni once he was sure that the woman was completely out of earshot. “She’s going to get methadone.” Getting up, he walked out of the room, turning toward the doors that eventually led to the outside world. “I talked to the doctor here and she’s being started on a methadone program to slowly get her off heroin. The methadone will ease her pain, although she’s definitely not going to get the high she was hoping for.”
Once outside the jail, he looked at Toni. “Still want to cover this story?” he asked her. “You were turning an interesting shade of green back there for a couple of minutes.”
She supposed that she owed him an apology—but he could have warned her about this beforehand. “That was when I thought you were going to contribute to her drug habit.”
He didn’t bother hiding his smile. “I thought you said you did research on this.”
They were back in his car now and Toni felt uncomfortable. She looked straight ahead through the windshield rather that at him. “I did.”
“I’d say that your research was a little shoddy, O’Keefe. Otherwise you’d know that all things considered, I might not always do things a hundred percent by the book.” Since he wasn’t going anywhere yet, he looked at her as he spoke. “But I always stay on the right side of the law that I’m supposed to be defending.”
“Sorry,” she murmured. And then she finally looked at him. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“I’m not insulted,” he said. “I was just misrepresented and maligned.” Humor played along his lips and he smiled at her, magnanimous at the moment. “I’ll let it slide this time.”
She wasn’t sure how to play this, so she went with a touch of humor. “Do I genuflect, or will a simple thank-you do?”
“The latter’ll do,” he said. “As long as you lose the attitude.”
Toni began to protest his assessment. “I don’t—” But it was obvious that he was right. She actually did have an attitude. She wasn’t being fair. So far, he’d been pretty decent about this and even if he hadn’t been, she knew she owed him for what he’d done for her in that alley two months ago.
She blew out a breath. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll lose the attitude.”
He finally started up his car, heading back to the precinct, which was close by. “As far as I can tell, I’ve treated you rather fairly considering that the lieutenant sprang you on me without any warning.”
A few choice words rose up, but she squashed them. “You did,” she grudgingly admitted.
He nodded. Apparently they were in agreement on their assessment of the situation. But he still needed to clear something up.
“So would you mind telling me why you’re acting as if you’re expecting me to leave you standing on the side of the road in the desert at any second?”
A denial rose to her lips, but she could tell that he would see beyond that and they both knew it. She might as well not waste his time. So she decided to do something novel. She went with the truth.
“Because I’ve been fighting to be taken seriously ever since I could remember and I learned that striking the first blow is much better than being taken by surprise by a sneak attack and being caught with your defenses down.”
“That’s an old tune,” he said dismissively.
“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t ring true. Look at me,” she told him. She held out her hands, as if they somehow blocked his view of her. “Everyone thinks I get things handed to me because of my looks and that they’re going to be the one who doesn’t cave in and follow the pattern.
“The problem is, there is no pattern,” she insisted. “Nobody hands me anything because of my looks. I have had to fight for everything ever since I decided to be like my dad—and my fight started out with my dad,” she told him. “Except with him, he didn’t want me doing this because he didn’t think it was safe, flying around the world, doing stories abo
ut the world’s underbelly.”
Eventually, he’d changed his mind and been proud of her, but it had been a hard-won victory that didn’t last all that long. He died shortly afterward. But she still savored the memory.
“Like about the drug cartel,” Dugan guessed.
She knew what her father would have had to say about the story she was pursuing now. Toni shrugged. “Like about the drug cartel.”
He was silent for a moment, as if rethinking his assessment. And then he nodded.
“Okay, why don’t we both start over?” he suggested. Then, before she could ask him just what he meant by that, he stuck his hand out and said, “Hi, my name’s Detective Dugan Cavanaugh. And you are...?”
“Going to laugh at you,” Toni answered, doing just that.
“Going-to-laugh-at-you,” he repeated, being completely serious. “That’s a rather unusual name. Is it Irish?”
Toni found herself laughing again, more heartily this time.
“Okay. You’ve proved your point. We start fresh,” she agreed. “So,” she said after taking a breath and wiping tears away from her eyes, “where do we go from here? How do we find out if that woman’s so-called tip is on the level? Or are you just going to follow that lead?” she asked. “I take it that this woman gave you some information when you granted her that private audience she’d asked for.”
“Actually,” he told her, “It was just more of the same.” He saw her looking at him skeptically, but he didn’t say anything further to make her change her mind. “I’m going to have some of the team that’s working the streets put the word out to their people, see if anyone else’s CI can confirm—or deny—this information.”
“So we sit back and just wait?” she asked him in disbelief.
“No, we go out and gather more information from the usual suspects, the small-time wheelers and dealers who are just buying enough to keep their own habit going. On any given day, there are any number of deals going down, drugs changing hands for payment. We are going to hit some of the usual spots, see if we can find anyone who feels like talking.”
“You’re kidding, right?” she asked as he finally started up his car.
“Why don’t you tell me what you really think?” Dugan told her with a straight face.
“I think that riding around with you, Detective Cavanaugh,” she told him, making sure her seat belt was on, “is going to be a once in a lifetime experience.”
He grinned. “Oh, well, now you’re just trying to flatter me,” he told her, pulling out of the lot and into the street.
* * *
“So,” she asked as they left after questioning yet another junkie, “How did I do?”
Dugan spared her a quick glance before he turned his attention back to the road. His expression gave nothing away. “You need practice.”
She settled back in her seat and looked straight ahead. “You’d be the first one to say that,” she told him with a smile that was completely unreadable.
It made Dugan think nonetheless. Think and, just for a moment, allow his imagination to run away with him. But these were working hours and he was working, so for now, any thoughts he had beyond that were going to have to be tabled.
But there would come a time, Dugan silently promised himself, when he would find the chance to explore those thoughts and follow them to their natural conclusion.
That made him smile.
* * *
“Want to stop by Malone’s?” Dugan asked several hours later back at the police station.
The endless day had finally ended—unproductively as far as she was concerned, although she did have several colorful things to include in her series once she wrote it up.
But for now, she was completely wiped out and quietly praying that her daughter would allow her to catch a couple of hours of sleep before Heather woke up, demanding her attention. That was all she really needed to be able to get back on her feet, Toni thought, just a couple of hours.
However, a couple of hours was her rock-bottom minimum.
“Malone’s?” she repeated now, realizing that he was waiting for an answer from her. The name meant nothing to her. She put her notebook into her purse and waited for Dugan to continue.
He obliged with an explanation, although it was hard for him to imagine that there was someone who didn’t know what Malone’s was. The bar was a very active presence in his life as well as the lives of everyone around him. It was where the people at the precinct came to let off steam and just center themselves.
“That’s a local bar where cops hang out when they’re not on duty.” He’d suggested it because he got the impression that she was looking to do the “whole” cop experience, and Malone’s was definitely part of that. “It’s also the place I was coming from that night I ran into you,” he added, deciding to frame the incident as delicately as he could.
They needed to get past that night, Toni thought. It gave him far too much of an intimate advantage over her. She wanted to be on equal footing with him and having Cavanaugh recalling that incident put her in his debt.
“Ah, well, thanks, but no thanks,” she told him. Then, not wanting to rule it out completely—after all, things could change—she quickly added, “Some other time maybe. But right now, I’m really bushed and I have a baby to go home to.” She paused as she double-checked her purse for her car keys and fished them out. “Lucinda probably wants to go out.”
“Lucinda.” He rolled the name over in his head. “Is that what you named her?”
She looked at him, confused. “No, she came with a name.”
It was his turn to be confused. “What?”
About to leave the squad room, Toni pulled up short, rethinking what had just been said. “Wait, you’re talking about the baby, aren’t you?”
Of course he was. And then he looked at her, confused. “Aren’t you?”
Now it was starting to make sense. “No, I’m talking about the nanny I hired to take care of my baby while I’m at work.”
He started at the beginning again. “What’s the kid’s name? Your daughter,” he added for good measure, just in case her nanny still qualified as a kid.
“Heather.” Toni started to tell him the baby’s middle name, then realized that would be a mistake—because it was his name—so she just stopped dead before she said it. She didn’t want him feeling that the name connected them more than it did. “Heather,” she repeated.
Dugan nodded his head. “Heather,” he echoed. “Nice name.”
“Glad you approve.” Toni pressed her lips together, stopping herself cold. “Sorry,” she apologized. “That was flippant. I didn’t mean that the way it came out sounding.”
He looked at her, mildly curious. “How did you mean it?”
“I didn’t mean it in any particular way at all,” she told him. “Being flippant is a tough habit to break,” she admitted.
He grinned and his expression caught her completely by surprise. She felt herself melting just a little.
That would have to stop. Melting had been what had gotten her into trouble to begin with—if Heather could be called trouble, she amended, thinking of her daughter.
“You get points for trying,” he told her. “So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—unless you decide to change your mind and write about something more mainstream.”
“What’s more mainstream than drugs?” she asked with a laugh.
“Offhand, I could name a ton of things,” Dugan answered.
She supposed that was true. “I’m sure you could—and they’ve all been done to death.”
“So have articles on drugs,” Dugan pointed out.
“Mine will have a new perspective.”
He sincerely doubted that, but it was the tail end of the day and he wasn’t in the mood to spend another hour of it arguing with her, which was what would ha
ppen if he contradicted her in any manner, shape or form. It was better to pretend he hadn’t heard her and just continue on his way.
“I’m sure it will,” he said with as straight a face as he could manage, and then he walked out of the squad room.
“You didn’t mean that, did you?” she asked as she hurried after him and joined him in the hallway.
He looked at her as if he didn’t know what she was talking about.
“I was agreeing with you,” he insisted.
“But you didn’t mean it, did you?” Toni pressed again.
“You’re like a pit bull with a bone, aren’t you?” he asked her. And then he sighed. “I said it because I wanted to leave here. You have somewhere to be and I have a mug of beer calling to me, so why don’t we just smile, say good-night and let everything else go for tonight?” he suggested as they got on the elevator.
She still wanted him to answer her. “But—”
“I promise that if you still want to argue about the meaning of any statements tomorrow morning, I’ll be here, bright and shiny, ready to go a couple of rounds with you, if you want.”
“Bright and shiny?” she repeated, doing her best not to laugh.
“Best description I can come up with right now. I’m tired. I do better when I’m not tired,” he told her. “Just take the win and go.”
“There’s no win,” Toni pointed out, bemused at his choice of words.
“Okay, a placeholder for a win, how’s that?” he asked her. “Look, we can both agree that it’s been a long day, right?”
“Right,” she began tentatively, but got no further.
“And that we’re both tired, right?”
There definitely was no arguing with that. She couldn’t remember being this tired—or this wired—for a long time. “Right.”
“So let’s do as I said. We stop now and pick this up in the morning—if that’s what you want to do in the morning,” he qualified.
She shook her head, really confused now. “You’re going around in circles.”