“Watch your mouth, Lacey.”
Haynes reached out and grabbed Cole by the neck of his shirt. “Let’s go,” he said, shoving him toward the door.
At the door, Cole twisted to look back at Louis.
“You are dead, man,” Cole said softly. His hard eyes took in Jesse. “You’re both dead motherfuckers.”
They stepped out into the cold sleet, pausing to zip their jackets.
“Give me the keys,” Jesse said.
“No,” Louis said.
“Give me the fucking keys.”
Louis dug them out and almost threw them at Jesse. He walked briskly to the cruiser, jerked open the passenger door and got in. Jesse got in but made no move to start the car. Louis stared out at the windshield. Finally he looked over at Jesse.
“You going to start this thing?”
“Not until you tell me what that was all about.”
“Just start the damn car.”
Jesse rubbed the orange rabbit’s foot. “Look, Louis, I need to know. What the hell happened back there?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t tell me ‘nothing.’ The man I saw in there is not the same man I know.”
“What do you mean?”
Jesse shrugged. “It’s just not you. I mean, it’s not bad but it’s just not you.”
“Start the car, Jess.”
Jesse sighed. “Gonna be a long ride home.”
They pulled out of the lot and headed back to the interstate. Louis dropped his head back against the seat. He was glad Jesse had let it go. If he hadn’t he would have probably been forced to admit that he didn’t know what had happened in that room with Cole Lacey.
He closed his eyes. Jesse was right. That wasn’t him back there. Or was it? He had felt something back there, something foreign and dark, something that had crawled up from deep inside him. Standing there over that stupid kid, giving him shit, making him shake, it had felt…good.
“What we going to tell the chief about this?” Jesse asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“Tell him whatever you want,” Louis said.
He closed his eyes again, letting the hum of the tires take him back down into his thoughts. He could, he knew, rationalize his behavior. Cole knew where Lacey was and they had every right to get that information out of him. He could have made it really hard on the kid. But coerced testimony was illegal and wouldn’t hold up in court. And it was wrong.
Jesse suggested they stop at the White Castle to pick up lunch but Louis said he wanted to go right back to the station. He wanted to get the report done on Cole. Jesse dropped him off and Louis went right to his desk, pulling a blank report from his drawer.
He paused, pen over paper. What the hell did he write? Subject uncooperative and belligerent? Interrogation failed due to officer’s lack of control?
“You get anything out of Cole?” Dale asked.
“No. The kid’s cold as the damn lake,” Louis answered without looking up.
After thirty minutes, he sat back and read what he had written. His usually straight handwriting had an unmistakable angry slant to it. He was always careful not to let his emotions color a report but this thing with Cole had pushed him into a different state of mind.
Louis crumpled the report and tossed it in the trash. No way would Gibralter accept this. He liked his reports ice cold, just like his own damn blood.
The door opened and Jesse came in. He walked to Louis and dropped a greasy White Castle bag on the desk.
“I brought you some anyway. No pickles, no onions.”
Louis mumbled a thank-you. A second later, a door banged against the wall and Louis looked up to see Gibralter emerge from his office, wearing his parka. Louis’s eyes followed Gibralter as he went to Dale and held out a paper.
“New assignments. Post it. I’m going home,” Gibralter said.
Louis bent back over the report. The smell of the hamburgers in the bag at his elbow was making him feel sick and he pushed it away.
He felt someone standing behind him and looked up. Jesse was holding a piece of paper, a pained looked on his face.
“Now what?” Louis asked.
“He’s splitting us up,” Jesse said.
Louis took the paper from Jesse and stared at the new schedule in disbelief. Shit, he was going on swing shift with Ollie.
CHAPTER 25
One drink before he went in. The bottle was cold in his hand but the Jack Daniel’s was hot on his tongue. Jesse twisted the cap back on, set the bottle on the seat of the Bronco and stared at the front door to the chief’s house.
A light went on in the living room. Jesse drew in a deep breath and popped open the car door, knowing that his courage was fading faster than the dying daylight. He had to do it. He had to talk to the man, find out what was going on. Why had the chief split him and Louis up?
His shoes scrunched on the hardened snow as he moved up the walk. He rang the bell and heard the chimes echo through the house. The door opened, silhouetting the chief’s wife, Jean, in a golden light. She frowned slightly then seemed to recognize him and switched on the porch light.
“Jess. What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to the chief. He here?”
“Of course. Come in.”
She stood aside, holding the storm door. Jesse stepped inside, stomping his boots on the throw rug near the door. He glanced at the white carpet and stomped again.
“You haven’t been over in a long time, Jess,” Jean said, taking his coat and hanging it on the hall coat tree.
“I know. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“Of course not,” she said with a smile.
She walked away and Jesse let out a small breath of relief. The woman had always made him nervous but he didn’t know why. Maybe it was just because he had never gotten the chance to get to know her. But how could he? As close as he was to the chief, they never socialized and the chief never talked about his personal life.
Jesse waited in the foyer while Jean Gibralter went to the den to get her husband. He tried to remember the last time he had seen her at any police function. She never went to anything. But then, neither did Julie anymore; she said she hated standing around while the men talked shop.
A door opened and Gibralter emerged. He came over to Jesse.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing’s wrong. I…” Jesse looked at Jean, who had curled into a chair near the fireplace with a book on her lap. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“It’s kind of personal,” Jesse said quietly.
Gibralter motioned for Jesse to follow him into the den. Gibralter closed the door then went to the bar to turn down the scanner.
“Beer?” he asked, opening a small refrigerator.
Jesse didn’t want one but he accepted the can of Budweiser Gibralter pressed into his hand. Gibralter moved to a stool at the bar where he had spread out his reloading gear.
“What’s the problem?” Gibralter asked, hoisting a hip onto a bar stool.
“I want to know why you split Louis and me up,” Jesse said.
“I don’t need to explain my actions to you, Jess.” Gibralter picked up a shell casing and carefully poured powder into it.
“I know. But Louis is my partner.”
“We don’t have partners in this department, you know that.”
Jesse came forward and set the beer on the bar. “I know that, too. But you doubled us up — ”
“That was temporary.”
“Well, maybe it shouldn’t be.”
Gibralter leveled his eyes at Jesse.
“I mean, I like riding with someone,” Jesse said. “I’ve learned shit from Louis. He’s — ”
“Your friend?” Gibralter said.
Jesse hesitated. “Well, yeah, I guess he is.”
Gibralter turned back to his shell loading.
Jesse stared at Gibralter’s broad back then moved around near the bar so he could see Gibralter’s profile. “Is something wrong with that?”