What? Baldy asked, scrambling to catch up with his partners mood swing.
Did you see her clothes? Cartwright tugged his cell phone from his pocket. She didnt tell me she got hurt.
Eli drained the last of his coffee and observed the interchange, a very curious fly on the wall.
Mr. Comedy sobered up with a remark to calm his partner. If it was serious, she would have told you. I heard she gave first aid to one of the downed guards. Its probably his blood, not hers.
Cartwright punched in the number. Damn it, Coop, Im calling her.
Baldy stood and tapped his fingers against his partners fist. Seth, your moms a grown woman. And she didnt get the job she has just because shes pretty. She can take care of herself. He crushed his paper cup and made a neat, three-point shot into the trash can. Besides, Captain Taylor will be waiting for us. Maybe hes going to finally brief us on that gambling case he wants us to work on.
I guess youre right. Seth Cartwright paused to consider his partners words, though his posture remained stiff and unyielding. But after the meeting
Ill dial the number myself. Cmon.
Cartwright nodded. He flipped his phone shut and turned to follow his partner from the room. Thats when he realized the six-four fly on the wall had never left the room. Cartwrights chest expanded with a deep breath as he glared at Eli. What?
Eli shrugged off the taunt. Nothing. Just got caught up in the news report. The commissioners your mother? No response. Why didnt that surprise him?
Thick arms crossed in front of his wrestlers chest. Youre Masterson. That I.A. guy whos going after Detective Banning, arent you?
Going after? Hell. Would it kill anybody to say good morning around here? How about, Im the I.A. guy whos doing his job? Just like you. Banning has nothing to fear from me unless he did something wrong. Personally, I dont think he did.
Uh-huh.
The visual standoff lasted a split second longer before Seths partner, Coop, called him to get his butt in gear and get to the meeting. With a dismissive nod, effectively telling Eli to mind his own business and keep any comments about Seths mother to himself, the young officer strode from the room.
So Seth Cartwright was defensive about his mom. His partners teasing was probably a mild example of the heat he took from his coworkers for being the head honchos son. Probably had to prove himself a dozen times over to show hed earned his spot on the force.
Of course, the young man had almost blown a gasket when he saw that blood. Maybe he wasnt defensive about his mom so much as he was defensive of the woman whod raised him. Eli could have confirmed that none of the blood on the commissioners clothes was her own. But it wasnt his place to say, nor was it his habit to make friendly reassurances.
Time to seek out Merle Banning and finish up the paperwork. Eli was anxious to clear his desk before he had to sit down and answer to a hearing about his involvement at yesterdays bank shooting. At least his name and face had been kept out of the media. Publicity generally meant even closer scrutiny. And while Eli had developed a knack for flying under the radar, he knew it was only a matter of time before one of his colleagues at I.A. called him into his or her office.
Eli hadnt even cleared the doorway when his cell phone rang. If he was a superstitious man
Shaking his head, he pulled the phone from his belt and glanced at the number. Though he recognized the KCPD prefix, the number was unfamiliar. Hell. Why not? He wasnt superstitious.
He pressed the Talk button. Masterson.
Detective. The woman at the other end of the line breathed a sigh of relief before slipping into a more familiar clipped and confident mode. Its Shauna Cartwright.
Maam. His initial surprise at hearing her voice gave way to a misplaced pleasure, and more quickly to irritation. Shauna Cartwright had no reason to call him, except for business. And the only business they had in common was the damned paperwork for yesterdays robbery/homicide. Hed barely had a chance to scribble his notes, much less get them typed up. If youre looking for my report, tomorrows the earliest Ill be able to get it to you. And thats working on my own time.
Working off the clock certainly wasnt unheard of in his profession, but it would be damned annoying if he had to give up this particular evening to satisfy the bosss demands. Not that Eli had anything more momentous planned than dinner with his sister Holly. But Holly was the one person with whom he could commiserate over their baby sisters plight.
After yesterdays hearing, complete with Jillians sullen mood and accusatory glares, he and Holly would have plenty to hash out. Tough love sucked. But coping with an addict like Jillian had destroyed the whole warm-fuzzy-family thing among the three siblings long ago. While Jillian detoxed without any outside contact for two weeks, Eli and Holly needed to do some healing themselves.
Unfazed by his surly tone, the commissioner asked, Can you come by my office this afternoon? Ive already cleared it with Captain Chang. He gave me your direct number.
Running the request past his supervisor ensured cooperation, if not eager anticipation. Nothing like being master of his own destiny. Eli nipped the sarcasm and checked his mental calendar. I can swing by about four-thirty if thatll work for you.
Thats fine. Ill have Michael take my last meeting.
That anxious to get my report? Or are you going to lecture me about not following the chain of command again?
Her volume dropped to a throaty whisper. Please. Id rather not discuss it on the phone. I need to see you.
Cryptic. Her hushed plea carved a delicate pinhole in Elis defensive armor. Commissioner Cartwright hadnt struck him as a woman of mystery, but he couldnt help but be intrigued.
An image of the murdering Mr. Trench Coats nearly opaque lenses trained down the barrel of his rifle toward Shauna Cartwright blipped through Elis memory.
Forget intrigued. Tension twisted a knot at the back of his neck. Ill be there at four-thirty.
BY QUARTER PAST FOUR that afternoon, Eli was sinking his oxfords into the plush silver carpet on the top floor of KCPD headquarters. The receptionist at the center of KCPDs administrative offices had offered him a seat, but Eli preferred the view at the row of windows facing into the heart of downtown Kansas City. At least he could see people moving outside.
KCPDs limestone tower wasnt the tallest building on the skyline. Originally built in the 1930s, the interior had been in a continuous state of refurbishing for the past six years. But it wasnt the new decor or updated technology or even the row of commissioners portraits staring at his back from the long hallway that impressed him. It was the eerie quiet about the place.
There was an ominous weight to the air, a stuffy silence that lacked the relaxed comfort of a library or the creative intensity of a classroom of students taking a test.
Every floor in every precinct building he went into was a bustling hive of activity and purposeful noise. Machines. Conversations. Energy. Even the Internal Affairs division where he was based boasted more movement and warmth than this stylish tomb. Talk about your ivory tower.
It wasnt just the uniformed officers and security gates at each entrance that made the top-brass offices feel cut off from the rest of the world. The sound-dampening choices of carpeted cubicle walls and lined drapes played their part in the silence. As did the closed doors and deserted hallways. Even with the sun shining outsidedeepening the reds and golds on the trees in the park below himEli felt isolated.