“Partner?” the brunette bellows. “She was just going to give me the money from the earrings so I could buy some I like. And if you caught her shoplifting today, that had nothing to do with me. You know what? I’m outta here. I don’t have to put up with—”
“Actually you do. We’re taking you both in for questioning.”
Thankfully the other cruiser pulls up in that moment. We can divide and conquer.
I let Officer Wong usher Tina into his back seat. I would rather have taken her, since she’s less of a threat to Gemma, but I’m the one who deals with the hardnoses. Plus, I know Tina is more likely to open up to him. He’ll play the nice guy and get her to confess with a side of implicating her accomplice. She’s already given us a name.
Melanie Foulkrod sits in my back seat while I search the truck. A black plastic film cannister on the faded brown dashboard gets my attention. Who uses real film anymore?
With rubber gloves on, I retrieve the small container warmed by the sun. Popping the top, I find a powdery white substance. Bingo. Whatever drug this is, it’s more than the legal limit. If we don’t get Ms. Foulkrod for theft, we’ll get her for dealing narcotics. And I can get her away from Gemma.
Gemma climbs out of the car as I should have known she would. But it’s okay now that the suspects have been apprehended. I wouldn’t want to stay in the car with Ms. Foulkrod if I were her either.
“You doing okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Her eyes take in the scene like an investigator. And she’d probably consider writers to be investigators of sorts. “What’d you find?”
I tip the cannister to show her and swing the vehicle door shut. Case closed.
“Um …” She twists her lips. “Are you done searching the truck?”
“I am. Do you need something?” Maybe she’s actually bored. Or scared. Or has to pee.
Her gaze flicks to my cruiser before she meets my gaze. “I think you should keep searching.”
I tilt my head. She’s starting to sound like a conspiracy theorist. Which I suppose could also aid her job as a writer. “Why?”
“When you pulled out the film cannister, Melanie snickered.”
I knew the suspect was a mocker, but it doesn’t make sense that she would mock me for finding evidence unless she wanted me to find it.
“If she was smart enough to set up Tina as a decoy, that film cannister could very well be a decoy also.” Gemma almost whispers, and I have to strain to hear her. “It would be like if I’d really had drugs in my purse, and I put the steak in there with the hopes you’d stop searching once you found the obvious package.”
She’s right, and it’s as though we’ve switched places. I feel stupid for letting my desire to get Gemma back to safety prevent me from being my normal suspicious self.
“Good call.” I give a huge sigh and dig back into the truck to find two large baggies of dope duct-taped to the back of the driver’s seat. I’d almost missed them.
I’d bet my Beretta the cannister has nothing but baking powder in it. By the time I’d had it tested, someone would have cleaned out the real stash.
I slammed the truck door shut a second time and look to see Melanie’s reaction now. There’s no trace of snicker in her scowl. It’s a good thing she’s locked up already. Otherwise she might very well go after Gemma for encouraging me to keep searching.
But what’s to stop her from getting revenge once she meets bail?
I turn my back so she doesn’t see me close my eyes and suck in a deep breath. I can’t show weakness. I can’t let the enemy know how they can hurt me. That’s how Spider-Man’s enemies know to go after Mary Jane.
Unfortunately, I’m not Spider-Man. I’m not even Gemma’s boyfriend. She has to be able to defend herself, and she’s going to need more than an escape plan from being choked.
My mind rewinds to the shooting lesson with Bree. I’m going to have to teach Gemma how to shoot.
I tamp down emotion the same way I do gunpowder when reloading. After I’m sure my expression is as impenetrable as a metal casing, I turn to face Gemma. “We have to head to the precinct now. But if you’re free this weekend, I’d like to give you a shooting lesson.”
Gemma’s gaze searches mine, and I realize she’s more perceptive than I’d ever given her credit for. How can her eyes be both soft and armor-piercing?
The flicker of light in her irises is like a satellite in the sky. It tells me she can see the reason behind my invitation. She can see I’m concerned about her safety. She can see I really do care. Though hasn’t she known that all along?
“I’d like that,” she says.
This makes me feel a little better about her safety, but now I need to be worried about mine. I’m in deep trouble.
