Eighteen:

Cop-shops are all the same to me now. Seen one, seen them all. What appears to also be the same, is the looks I get upon first sighting. Stink-eyes as far as my eyes can see. You’d expect me to carry a staff and frogs and locus be raining from the sky with the rep I have. Not that I mind being portrayed as a female heroine in that light, since we all know how the Egyptians ended up in that story.

Penny’s precinct happened to be my old stomping grounds, so I was relieved to learn Ronny Grimshaw was now heading up Organized Crime out of the Fifteenth—which is clear across town from Penny’s station. That gave me plenty of room to ensure Penny made it to her work without being accosted by Irishmen. (I am not talking about the wee ones with kilts, red hair, and standing no more than four-feet-tall either!)

With this, I could in effect send Penny to casually peruse the database while I handled Grimshaw the elder brother. Ronny had a legendary reputation around the city. He was known for being a hard-ass, and he did make a lot of good solid collars yearly. He held high crime stats, which made him rise in the ranks. He was rumored to be on the shortlist for lieutenant now. His star was rising, and with it, his reach. The Grimshaw family were blue-blood royalty. They have been in law enforcement since before the founding of Peckford City. They matriculated from Florida two generations ago and made themselves into the black-and-blue family of the city.

“Can I help you?”

The desk Sargent asked in an absent voice until his eyes landed on me, and they bugged wide instantly. Yes, I was a very notorious girl around here.

“What the hell do you want?!”

I smirked and pulled out my badge and dangled it.

“PI Gina Giles here to speak with Detective Grimshaw.”

He gave me a scathing look and made no immediate effort to either buzz me through the gate or pick up his phone and call Grimshaw.

“And I’ll just bet he’s expecting you.”

His voice told me how likely he believed that was, but the joke was on him this time.

“I am sure if you pick up that phone and say my name, he will buzz me through himself.”

My tone implied that he was most certainly on the lookout for me. Which was true, in a manner of speaking. Grimshaw had to anticipate this was going to happen. One does not rise in the ranks as he has without basic deductive skills. A run-in with me was simply in the cards for this particular order of business.

“Ok, ok, I’ll buzz you through, but if I hear otherwise later, I’m doing you up for obstruction and whatever else I can cook up on the fly.”

He told me, not at all bothered by the blatant abuse of his authority.

“I see they’re still handing out those Sargent’s striped in Crackerjack boxes, huh?”

I asked him, and I paced through slowly as the gate door buzzed open to the second floor where the special investigations squads were housed. This was a place where Organized Crime and Special Victims Unit worked, sharing half of the total floor space each with a single soundproofed wall between them.

Interview rooms were positioned on both sides of the divide, allowing each unit access to, two interrogation rooms each. As I walked onto the floor, all eyes were on me, and several lowly grumbled offenses were launched. I simply chose to ignore the snide comments and rude gestures as I prowled past.

Even in a room filled with cops, I felt constantly on edge, and completely prepared for a fight, despite the feeling of security most might experience. My presence here was never going to remain a secret from the mob families since it was not possible for the OC to not be leaky. The only way the power-players could stay up on the current police investigations would be to have the units tapped with moles. Even knowing this, I strode forth with the conviction of a woman on a mission of justice.

Sally Anne was depending on me to protect her. It was easy to overcome the discomfort of the social injustices thrust upon me for being what they considered a narc or rat. Not that I believe it is ratting to report a sexual assault on your person, simply because the culprit is a decorated detective. Easy to overcome because Sally Anne’s case merited rising above. Usually, I am ok to simply live and let live, since justice for my case is not even possible. However, that does not mean I am willing to back down from protecting other women from similar or worse fates.

There were plenty of sinfully disgusting utterances that could have made a deaf-blind priest blush. When I reached the end of the OC hall, and I arrived outside the lead detective’s door, my ears were practically on fire.

I knocked on the door before opening it. I was sure that Grimshaw was aware I was here, but that did not mean I was willing to forego the nicety since I was in enemy territory right now. The very first rule to remember about working in opposition to the police around here is not to give them even a parking ticket’s worth of leverage against you. Cops make for the absolute worst possible offenders to slap bracelets on. Mainly, because, they are so hyper-vigilant and well-versed in criminology that they know what to do, and how to think, to obscure their less than stellar deeds. Even more, they were not willing to risk prison, because cops in prison are dead meat. It does not matter how tough you are, because skells all over the jail will come for you until the job gets done.

“Enter!”

Detective Grimshaw’s voice was like a charge of lightning through my body. Dark memories flashed through my mind as I recalled his last speech on his friend’s behalf at the herring when I was pressing charges. Being here was something I’d rather never do, yet here I was. Sally Anne had no idea how unequivocally I hated being in this damn station!

“I see you’re still convincing these folks that sunshine squirts from your ass, Grimshaw!”

My greeting was not nearly as vulgar as the one I had wished to use but opted against.

“How exactly does one squirt sunshine, Giles?”

Grimshaw countered and I shrugged as I entered and closed the door abruptly cutting off the whispers around the office.

“Not exactly sure about that detain, now it’s going to haunt my sleep tonight. I’m just going to sit down,”

I said, and Grimshaw shrugged as if I had given him a request at all.

“I see you’re still the same broad as two years ago.”

He commented off-the-cuff, and I grinned across the dense wooden desk and said, “Nah, if I was that broad, you’d be a very lucky man. I happen to know the name of the game we’re playing now.”

I said, as I leaned on the edges of his desk, and my fingers slapped a small sticky device on the underside of the table, and I activated my bug.

(So, yes, it is not strictly legal to bug a cop-shop, but the trick is simply not to get caught doing so! Also, what cop actively sweeps for bugs? They are going to assume that they are the only ones brazen enough to use them inside a police station.)

Grimshaw was an attractive man in his early forties, besides the slightly receding hairline, he looked young and well-aged so far. He was built like a wrestler with dense but useful muscle. He was six-foot, and he had light brown hair and blue eyes. He was a square-jawed handsome catch of a detective, and he was a notorious philandering spouse to his wife.

“What game are we playing, PI Giles?”

He asked, his tone was a bit insulting since he seemed to wish to dance first.

“Ok, buddy, let’s skip the entire denial and innocent bits because this girl isn’t biting.”

I told him, and my tone was flatter than my chest in ninth grade.

“What precisely are you getting at Giles?”

Grimshaw inquired in a deceptively good imitation of a concerned police officer willing to come to my aid. (Shame for him his audience was well beyond that particular charade.)

After I leaned back in the seat, I folded my arms over my chest and sighed.

“My client has evidence of your brother plotting to hire someone to kill her. Being the defensive older brother you are, you are very much in the know about little brother’s intentions. This is why you managed to push through a missing person’s BOLO on her and fudge the timeline enough to benefit you. We are well past the point where you can sit here and deny the facts.”

Ronny Grimshaw’s attractive features twisted into a contortion of malice and bile hatred. His every breath was thick as if he were sucking down some deadly miasma, to remain seated across from me.

“It’s not enough for you to slander a good cop, now you’re taking your retribution out on my family?!”

He asked in a tone that told me he believed what he was saying—at least enough to win an Oscar. I sat like a bump on a log and simply shrugged casually.

“Look, the way I see it, there is only one way out of this that does not end with your brother on the justifiable list I have tallied over my years on the street. That’s if you both call everything off and Peter signs divorce papers. If not, I will keep coming for you both, and I am not stupid enough to believe little brother is the one making all the arrangements and calling all the shots.”

Ronny glared at me as if he were wishing his star could burst me into flames like a vampire in daylight.

“I don’t know what you’re on about, but I will never stand for you threatening my kin!”

Ronny roared, and he stood, and I felt my fingers twitching closer to my handle, pleading for me to draw my gun, but I held firm and glared back at Ronny.

“Your family are up to their necks in dirty deeds and the debts coming in unless you are smart enough to cash out now and get while the getting is still good. After I leave this place, I am coming after you with both barrels loaded for big game. If you chose the peaceful route, and I do encourage this option, I will help iron out the divorce terms peacefully and I will make sure my client is relocated safely and that she never has to deal with you lot again. That would also mean I will over-look this one particular criminal trespass. I can promise you; no such luck will come twice in one lifetime for you, Ronny.”

I said his given name as if we were close friends and not mortal enemies. His jaw tightened and his vein seemed to throb in a quick tempo telling me of his rapid beating heart.

“I don’t know why you think you can come in here and make threats to me of all people, and believe you are somehow equipped to take on the entire Peckford PD at my back! Has your previous disgraceful accusation taught you nothing, Giles?! Blue takes care of blue; no number of outside threats or pressure will ever change that!”

He said, and I smirked at him, and I rose from my chair and I sighed loudly.

“Remember this moment when your number comes up.”

I told him, and he glared at me like a lethal rabid tiger on the prowl for meat as I swished my hips out his door, and through the gawking spectator cops still guessing why I was even here to begin with.