“Drug abusers can be good at hiding their addiction,” he said.
“Here’s the thing about Doug. He didn’t smoke weed in college. He never did drugs of any kind. Never smoked or vaped. He broke up with someone because he found out she was a total coke head, but not before he tried to get her help. When she wouldn’t stop using, he moved on. He participated in the Ironman, more than once. He was into eating healthy and taking care of his body. He was super muscular and fit like you. I am convinced someone killed him and made it look like he’d OD’d.”
“What kind of work was he doing?”
“Undercover with ACPD. One night, about a month before he died, he confided that he was close to making several arrests. I think he wanted me to know in case something went wrong.”
“Did the department investigate his death?” Stryker asked.
“They did, but it went nowhere because there were no witnesses and no one saw or heard anything. I asked to see his police reports and was denied access. I was told that sometimes cops do drugs in order to fit in. That’s bullshit.”
“I’ll help you,” he said.
Her eyes grew large. “What?”
“I’ll help you.”
“No, you don’t have to.”
“Try to stop me. Your super powers aren’t that strong.”
She smiled through the tears in her eyes and grabbed the coffee pot. As she topped them off, she said, “Maybe another time. You’ve got so much going on.”
“What do you need?”
She returned the carafe and sat down. After pausing to drink, she studied him for a minute. “To read his police reports.”
“What am I looking for exactly?”
“He never told me what group or organization he’d infiltrated.”
“Coulda been organized crime, drugs, government corruption. Lots of options. I’ll see what damage I can do.”
She placed both hands on his face and kissed him. “Thank you. I have to follow my gut on this one.”
“We can do it together.”
“I like the sound of that,” she said.
So do I.
His phone buzzed with an incoming call. “It’s my Veep,” he said to Emerson before answering. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Cooper just got here,” Brooks said. “I think we’ve got a chance of convincing him to suspend the government accounts only. Can you join me?”
“Be there in thirty.” Stryker hung up.
She started clearing the table.
“Let me help you,” he said.
She snaked her arms around him and kissed him. “Go. Now.” She walked him to the front door and unalarmed. “Good luck.”
He flashed a smile. “I stole one of your hair ties.” He hopped on his bike, pulled on his helmet, and took off.
* * *
As Emerson dressed, she felt sexually satisfied and…hopeful. Happy was too much of a stretch. She hadn’t been happy in months.
