Not in the Cards Read online

  Bowing his head, Tony pulled his hands out of his pockets and ran them over his slick black hair. He was as Italian as his name: dark brown eyes set against olive skin and black wavy hair that swirled down the back of his neck. His shoulders were broad and tapered down to a flat stomach and small waist. Delta would never admit it out loud, but he was a handsome young man who had turned many heads in Harry’s Bar the other night. Still…

  “Cut me some slack here, okay? I’m just excited about my first night, that’s all.” Tony smiled one of his patented grins.

  “Well, hose yourself down, because if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”

  “Fine by me. I’ll see you at muster then.” Turning on his heels, Tony Carducci disappeared into the adjoining room.

  “Think you were a little hard on him?”

  “You heard him. You saw how he operates. You tell me.”

  Connie turned back to the monitor and shrugged. “I think you have your work cut out for you. He’s definitely going to be a challenge.”

  Delta looked at the invisible trail left by her new partner, imagining it as the fumes of his potent cologne. “Thanks. I don’t like the idea of going out to the streets with such a loose cannon. The challenge won’t be how to train him.”

  “It won’t?”

  Delta shook her head and started for the muster room. “Nope. The challenge will be how to keep us both alive.”

  “Then it’s up to us to keep your hunk of manly man on the up-and-up.”

  Delta turned her head and grinned. “Us?”

  Connie nodded. “But of course. You do what you need to do on the streets and I’ll dig and see what I can come up with. Trust me on this, Del.”

  Before Delta could reply, the door to the muster room opened and Tony stuck his head out. “Muster’s about to start. You coming?”

  Delta sighed loudly and nodded before turning back to Connie. “The Boy Blunder awaits. Any last minute advice?”

  “Yep. Keep him in front of you whenever he has his gun drawn. I hate the thought of finding out he inadvertently blew the back of your head off.”

  “Nice thought.”

  Reaching out to Delta, Connie lightly touched her shoulder. “Be careful out there, Storm. From what I’ve heard so far, that rookie makes me nervous.”

  “Affirmative.” Wheeling around, Delta was surprised to find Tony’s head still sticking out the door.

  “Did she call you Storm?”

  Delta only nodded as she brushed by him through the door.

  “Cool. What a great handle. I thought my nickname was bad, but yours is really cool. Well, Storm, let’s r—”

  Turning on him and finding his height equal to hers, Delta went nose-to-nose with him. “If I ever hear you call me that again, I’ll kick your ass. You understand?”

  Nodding rapidly, Tony backed away. “Geez, don’t get so uptight. I only thou—”

  “You thought wrong. Let’s get one thing straight, Carducci. We’re partners. Not friends, not buddies, not pals. My job is to teach you the streets and your job is to shut your mouth and listen. You got that?”

  For a moment, the air was thick with cold anticipation as all eyes in the room focused on the two of them locked in a powerful glare.

  “I said, do you understand?”

  “I get it,” Tony said through a clenched jaw.

  “Good. Keep it that way.” If familiarity bred contempt, Delta wondered, then what does contempt breed?

  She hoped she didn’t have to find out.

  Muster was a time when information was exchanged, personalities were revealed, and humor was applied to a variety of circumstances. It was also the time when they discovered what events transpired on the shifts prior to the one they would be working.

  To Delta, this time was a mixture of personal sharing and professional caring. She’d always enjoyed muster because it reminded her of her college days when the locker room was alive and crazy.

  Taking a seat next to Carducci, Delta pulled out a notepad.

  “What’s that for?” Tony asked, pointing to her clipboard.

  Delta sighed. Why anyone would choose to be a teacher was beyond her, and whoever said there was no such thing as a stupid question obviously never taught anyone stupid. “For notes. I like to take notes in case I forget something.”

  Tony nodded, moving his whole body while doing so. He reminded Delta of a puppy whose body was too big for it. “Cool. Then I guess if you’re going to take notes, I don’t have to.”

  Delta wrote the date on the top of the paper before looking up at him. “I suggest you get used to taking your own notes.”

  Still nodding, like he was listening to a song on a walkman, Tony grinned. “Sure. Can I borrow a piece of paper?”

  Sighing even more loudly, Delta pulled a piece out and handed it to him.

  “Thanks. Got a pe—”

  “Get one yourself,” Delta growled as the duty sergeant strolled up to the podium.

  “Evening ladies and gents in blue. I hope your day was peaceful because your nights are about to get hairy.”

  “What else is new?” Steve ‘Downtown’ Brown heckled.

  The sergeant glared a warning before continuing. “Two rapes reported this morning on the east side. No ID on either perp. Both women were pretty badly beaten up, so be sure to read Schumann’s report.”

  Several heads nodded and uttered epithets under their breaths. For the next several minutes, the sergeant went over all the burglaries, robberies, and various misdemeanors from the previous shifts. Then, he cleared his throat and leaned forward on the podium. Everyone stopped writing and waited for him to continue.

  “As I’m sure you’re all aware, C.I.C’s are on the rise here in California.”

  Tony looked over at Delta, but before he could ask, she answered his question in a whisper. “Crimes Involving Children.”

  “Word has it,” the Sergeant continued, “that the sale of pornographic and snuff films have quadrupled in recent weeks. The Department of Justice’s memo was sent to every police department with a fax machine. This, ladies and gentlemen, is some serious business.”

  Some of the officers whistled. The DOJ wasn’t one to hit the panic button and send out memos to every police department in the country. For them to do so meant that there were some perpetrators out there worthy of very special attention.

  “Apparently, kiddie porn isn’t enough for the bastards anymore. Now, there’s a group of sickos producing snuff films with children and the fellas at DOJ believe the ring is heading our way.”

  A female officer raised her hand. “Ring, Sarge? Isn’t that a bit archaic?”

  The sergeant smiled. “The boys in the big house say it isn’t mob connected, gang related, or group identified, Lucy, and that’s why catching them has been difficult. They suspect a small group of these wackos are headed by a particular individual who has money and connections. Connections, I might add, in Hollywood.”

  The picture suddenly became clearer.

  “This individual has a monopoly on the market because he’s producing high-quality snuff films that aren’t phony like some of the other ones from the underground.”

  “And they’re headed our way, sir?”

  The sergeant nodded. “The feds think our perps are coming to Hollywood looking for investors. Apparently, the feds got close to yanking their chains in New York, but they got away. Their info leads them to believe that L.A. is their next stop. And to get to L.A. from there, they’re most likely going to have to go through River Valley first.”

  “Are the feds actively pursuing them?”

  The sarge nodded again. “You bet. And they’ve made it clear they don’t want any intervention. What they do want is prevention, and that’s what we’re gonna give them. You’re all to triple and quadruple your drive-bys of parks, pools, playgrounds, preschools, and anywhere else kids under the age of ten might be.”

  Delta raised her hand. “Sarge, I understand t
he need for prevention, but not intervention? What’s up with that?”

  Several officers nodded in agreement.

  The sarge shrugged. “You know how the feds are. They work in mysterious ways, of which I am not privy to. They may have bigger fish to fry and don’t want us getting in the way of that. But I will tell you, now that you’ve asked, that the perps travel with their equipment in a camper or van and should be considered armed and dangerous.”

  “Not as dangerous as I’ll be if I catch them,” someone said from the back row.

  The sergeant closed his folder. “That’s just what the feds don’t want. If you suspect anyone might be among the men they’re looking for, notify command immediately. Any more questions?”

  There were none.

  “Okay then, this last item concerns all of you. Have any of you seen the science experiment we used to call a refrigerator?”

  Everyone chuckled.

  “The captain says to clear out your Tupperware or lose it for good. Someone has three week old gefilte fish in a Ziploc bag that is about to burst at the seams. So, please, take your lunches home.”

  Delta capped her pen and made a beeline for the sergeant before he could get out the door. “Sarge, is it possible for us to see the memo?”

  Sergeant Kincaid paused and ran a thick hand over his balding head. “Delta, somehow, I’m not surprised that this case would interest you. Don’t you think it would be wise if you stayed out of trouble for a little while?”

  Delta bowed her head. Sergeant Kincaid had been one of her training instructors in the academy. “I can’t help it, Sarge. I lost one kid already and it’s tearing me up.”

  Putting his arm around her, the sergeant smiled warmly. “I warned you about that in the academy, didn’t I? Don’t try to make up for something you couldn’t stop, Delta. It’s like a baseball player who keeps striking out because he’s trying too hard to get a hit. Don’t blame yourself and don’t try so hard to make up for Helen’s death. You can’t change the past, Delta. Let it go.”

  Nodding, Delta inhaled slowly and walked away. Let it go? If only she could.

  “I suppose you want to drive," Delta said, tossing Tony the keys.

  “I wouldn’t mind.” Hopping in the car, Tony jammed the key in the ignition and started the engine. “God, don’t you love the sound of these babies?”

  Delta just shook her head as she reached over and turned the engine off. “You have a list here that needs to be checked before you hit the streets.”

  Tony turned to her, a puzzled look settling on his face. “A list?”

  “It won’t do you a damned bit of good to go blasting out of the parking lot with only half your equipment. You have to make sure that everything works, that you have everything you’re supposed to have, and that the unit is full of gas.”

  “Isn’t the last guy in the car supposed to fill it?”

  Delta cringed. “Yes, that’s how it’s supposed to be, but you’d be amazed at how many sergeants and lieutenants ‘forget’ to gas up before they come in.”

  Tony nodded, a horse ready to burst out of the starting blocks. “Okay. So, I check all of this stuff and then we can go?”

  Delta handed the clipboard to him. “Yep. I’ll look in the trunk, you do the rest.”

  Tony glanced at the list and started checking items off. When they were through, Tony jumped back in the driver’s seat and gripped the wheel like a race car driver. On his hands were fingerless black leather gloves. “Can we go?”

  Delta stared at the gloves. It used to be that the only cops who wore gloves were the ones who liked to crack heads. But now, with the AIDS scare, almost every cop she knew donned the black leather gloves just as they did the bulletproof vests.

  “All right, eager beaver, go for it.”

  As Tony pulled out of the lot, he turned to Delta and flashed his most charming and sincere smile. “You don’t really do all that check-list stuff every time, do you?”

  Delta couldn’t remember the last time she and Jan had done it. It was something that seemed to get interrupted as soon as they were in the car. Too often, she took for granted the necessary items would be where they were supposed to be. But she wasn’t supposed to tell a rookie this, was she?

  “Get used to it. How would you like to get to a scene and you need a rope to get down a hill to help a victim, and when you open the trunk, it isn’t there. How would you explain that to the captain? Or worse, how would you explain it to the family if the victim died because you couldn’t get to her?”

  As Tony nodded, Delta wondered how long she would be able to last in the car with his overpowering aftershave. Miles had stopped wearing his after Delta told him it gave her a searing headache. But then, that was Miles.

  “You can’t believe how long I’ve wanted to do this!” Tony said as they rolled up to a light.

  Oh yes, she could. The excitement, the thrill of the action, the feeling of helping people who needed assistance, gave her a reason to get up in the morning. She loved it. She had always loved it. It was like the carrot and the stick all the way through the academy, and when she finally got on the streets, that carrot tasted better than anything she had ever eaten or ever would eat.

  “What do we do now? Just drive around looking for action?”

  “You were at muster. Weren’t you listening? Let’s cruise by the arcade and check on the kids.”

  For a while, they drove in silence—silence Delta was more than happy to have. There would be plenty of time to answer the onslaught of questions he was bound to have, questions she hoped she would have the patience to answer.

  Finally, Tony cleared his throat and turned to her. “You don’t like me much, do you?”

  Delta shrugged. “I don’t know, yet. From what I’ve seen so far, I don’t think so.”

  “Why? What’ve I done to piss you off so much?”

  “For starters, you hustled men who had every right in the world to want to crush your face. Then, when my friend and I intervened to keep them from bashing your pearly-whites down your fool throat, you pull some macho act that, frankly, makes you a bit dangerous. To top it off you never even offered your thanks. You tell me how you’d feel?”

  As the light changed, so did Tony’s expression. “I’ve been told that I make a good first impression where the ladies are concerned.”

  Delta visibly cringed. “That’s your first problem. I’m not a ‘lady.’ I’m a cop. I’m your partner, the person who has to trust in your ability to size up situations and make the right choices. I wouldn’t say hustling a couple of big bikers was a very bright move. Nor was turning down help when you so obviously needed it.”

  Tony grinned. “I suppose not. But you can’t judge me by a couple of stupid mistakes. You act as if I’ve done something to you personally.”

  “Turn left here,” Delta said, leaning back and letting a loud sigh escape her lips. “Look, Carducci, it’s no secret that I didn’t sign up for this assignment. No offense, but babysitting a rookie isn’t exactly my style. I work hard, fast, and live by my gut. My beat isn’t a place where someone with training wheels should play.”

  “You don’t think I can do the job?”

  “It’s not that. This is one hell of a tough beat. If I were a captain, I wouldn’t assign an inexperienced cop to it.”

  “Well I’m supposed to be getting the right training from you so that I can be experienced. How can I learn anything if you treat me like some jerk?”

  Delta nodded in understanding. “Look, to be honest, you’d be better off asking for a transfer to someone who really wants to be an FTO. I’m a cop, Carducci, not a teacher. I keep saying that, and no one seems to want to hear.”

  Tony nodded as if he understood.

  “Carducci, I work on instinct and gut knowledge. I don’t know how to teach those anymore than I could teach you how to have courage. I’ve had a rough couple of months and the last thing I need right now is to try to bottle my expertise and pour it down the
throat of some rookie.”

  “If it’s nothing personal, could you at least give me a chance? Maybe I’m not like all the other rookies out of the academy. At least give me a chance.”

  Delta tried not to grin. Of course he was like the others. She remembered her buddies from the academy. And no matter how good they were, they all came out the same: over eager, rambunctious, and idealistic, usually completely unaware of the real and present dangers of the street. She had been there herself, and when the harshness of the beat slammed her in the face, her idealism quickly took a backseat to her survivalism. One didn’t learn that; one had to simply wait to experience it.

  “I don’t see that I have much choice, do you?”

  Tony shook his head. “Thanks for the confidence.” The hurt in Tony’s voice was evident.

  “Look, I apologize for being so rough on you. But if you’d done what I have, you’d find this assignment patronizing and slightly demeaning.”

  “That’s just it. I do know what you’ve done. ” Tony said, fully smiling. “I’ve heard of your adventures. The academy is full of stories about you. Everyone knows who Delta Stevens is, man. You’re the stuff legends are made of. Can’t you just forget what an ass I was the other night and start new right now?”

  A sudden warmth wound its way through Delta’s hardened exterior, forcing a slight grin to curve her lips. She could see where his charm might be disarming to women who would notice such traits. He was a little boy in a man’s body, who just wanted to be a good cop. She had to give him that much. “All right. If I’m stuck with you, we might as well find a way to get along.” Delta tried not to smile, but Tony was sitting there with that silly, proud grin on his face. She couldn’t help herself. Okay, so his first impression stunk. If people judged her by her first impression, she’d have no friends.

  “Great. What do you want me to call you? I mean, I already know what not to call you.”

  “Just call me Delta. If you ever call me anything I might consider sexist, you’re history. Pull that Mister Man crap like you did the other night and I’ll do everything in my power to see that you end up in dog pound school. Make any racist, bigoted, sexist, or homophobic remarks and they’ll have to surgically remove my baton from your butt. If you can handle that, then I’ll agree to a fresh slate.”