“Delaney.”
Vaughn sighed. Took a page out of Darnell’s book.
“What about giving me a hand job?”
“Delaney.”
“Good, he’s got softer skin than you.”
Darnell laughed. Vaughn didn’t.
“What’s your problem with Delaney, anyway?”
“I don’t have a problem.”
“Really? You’ve been on his ass all day.”
All month. All year, actually.
Darnell shrugged, slumped deeper into the passenger seat. No chuckling now. The man’s dramatic mood changes were something to be studied.
“You know why.”
Yeah, I do.
Two years ago, Darnell had been on a stakeout with a different partner; Vaughn was just a rookie detective back then.
Trying to bait a child predator. Working a sting operation, pretended to be an eleven-year-old girl. Text messages were exchanged. A meet-up arranged.
The man never showed. Brass called the sting off when the suspect failed to respond to subsequent texts. He’d smelled something was up; either that or he’d never been serious in the first place. They’d been dismissed, but Darnell had decided to stick around.
The pedo never appeared.
Darnell went home.
Was confronted by an unspeakable tragedy.
Vaughn’s partner was put on mandatory three-month administrative leave. Was forced to perform fitness and psych evals before returning to work.
Probably cheated on both.
Darnell hated Delaney because during his mandated leave, Delaney had overtly expressed interest in becoming a detective. As far as Vaughn knew, Delaney just assumed, like many in the PPD, that Darnell would never return, leaving a position that needed to be occupied.
It wasn’t Delaney’s fault, and he’d done nothing wrong. But Darnell saw things differently.
Took it as a personal affront, projecting his fury over his family’s tragedy on the ambitious puppy dog cop.
“What do you wanna do then, Darnell?”
“Go home.” There was no humor in Darnell’s voice.
Vaughn took his partner home.
“Take it easy tonight.”
“I will.”
He wouldn’t.
