Megan
The party started out fairly low-key, a dozen people casually hanging out around an apartment pool, having a few beers. Paige and Alexa were among those indulging in a brew or two. I suspected some of the others who were drinking were underage, too, but nobody was getting out of control. I couldn’t risk missing a chance to bust a drug dealer by taking in a few children for minor-in-possession charges.
We’d stopped at a grocery store on the short drive over. I bought Paige a new toothbrush and myself a cheap inflatable pool lounge float in a fun lime-green color. It took me fifteen minutes to blow the darn thing up, and Brigit only fifteen seconds to pop it with her claws. Party pooper.
As expected, everyone in the group was checking everyone else out. The guys were checking out the girls in their bikinis. The girls were checking out the guys in their swim trunks. The guys were checking out the other guys to see how they ranked in comparison. The girls were doing the same with the other girls, performing mental computations of attractiveness. Five extra points for big boobs, six-pack abs, or a tight ass. Minus three points for poochy tummy, saggy butt, or back fat. Add two for nice hair or teeth … It was like some sort of sexual attraction calculus.
My nerves were on fire, my senses all abuzz. Why hasn’t Jackson contacted me yet? What’s taking the fingerprint techs so damn long? Argh!
“Morgan! Alexa!” Paige called from her seat on a lounge chair. “Time for a selfie!”
She’d attached her phone to a selfie stick and held it out in front of us, as Alexa slid in on one side of her, me on the other. “Wait. Let’s get Britney in the picture, too.” She scooted closer to Alexa to leave a space between me and her and patted the spot. “Up here, Britney!”
Brigit complied, hopping into the space. I turned her around to face the camera.
“One, two, three,” Paige said, and snapped the shot. Click.
We alternated between late-day sunbathing and cooling off in the pool over the next couple of hours. As the day transitioned into early evening, the sun sinking to the west and the lights coming on in the pool and around the complex, more people came out to hang, adding cases of beer and fresh ice to the coolers sitting about. The background music that had been playing became louder and faster, several people moving in place to the beat. Apparently nobody had called the police to complain, probably because the vast majority of the tenants were college kids who were down here by the pool. Any tenants who were not students must have realized they’d signed on for this when they’d signed a lease at a complex so close to the college.
Paige stood on a chair and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Who wants pizza? I’m taking up a collection. Ten bucks each.”
I had to give the girl credit. Drug dealer or not, she had leadership skills.
Knowing Brigit would insist on a slice or two, I chipped in twenty bucks for pizza. I sat next to Paige on a chaise lounge turned sideways as she placed the order. Alexa sat on the other side of Paige.
“Send a couple orders of breadsticks, too,” Paige said into her phone. “And dipping sauce.” When she was done, she looked out over the crowd, a wistful expression on her face. “I’m going to text Chaoxiang. See if he wants to come have some pizza.” Alexa started to say something but Paige silenced her with a raised hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Alexa! Chao’s a good guy. You just don’t understand our relationship. We’re … keeping it casual.”
Alexa leaned back, her gaze meeting mine behind Paige’s head. She shook her head as if to say, She’s pathetic, isn’t she?
Frankly, drug dealer or not, I felt sorry for Paige. Clearly she had more feelings for the guy than he had for her. It was one thing to have a casual relationship when neither party wanted more, but when one person hoped for something more meaningful it was a recipe for emotional disaster. She was setting herself up for a big heartbreak.
Paige’s fingers worked her phone’s keypad. When she finished sending the text, she stared down at her screen as if willing Chaoxiang to respond right away, to show her he cared. As if she realized both Alexa and I were watching her, she slid her phone into the beach bag at her feet, attempting to act nonchalant. “Last one in’s a rotten egg!” She stood and ran to the pool, jumping off the side and performing an improvised jackknife. She immediately extended her bent leg upon hitting the water so that her head wouldn’t go under and ruin the makeup and hair she’d spent an hour getting just right, probably in the hopes of seeing Chao tonight.
I jumped into the pool, too, as did Alexa and Brigit. After bobbing around for a minute or two, we took places along the side, folding our arms over the edge, resting our heads on our arms, and letting our legs drift behind us. Brigit swam to the steps, climbed out, and lay on the concrete near us, softly panting in the warm evening.
“We should head over to Chisholm Trail Mall tomorrow,” Paige suggested. “Since it’s after the Fourth, all of their summer stuff will be on sale.”
“I can’t wait for the winter clothes to come out,” I said. “I love boots and sweaters and—”
Paige’s head popped up. “There’s Chao!”
He’d arrived at the same time as the pizza delivery guy, the two of them making their way up the walk in tandem, the pizza guy rolling a dozen stacked pizzas on a dolly.
Paige was up and out of the water faster than a breeching dolphin. She scurried over to the chair where we’d left our things and quickly wrapped her towel around her waist. Grabbing the roll of bills she’d collected, she returned to the pool and thrust them at me. “Here, Morgan. Pay the pizza guy.”
I took the bills from her and eased off the edge and backward into the chest-high water, holding my hands up by my head so the money wouldn’t get wet. I walked through the water to the steps, and climbed out of the pool, meeting the pizza guy by the gate. Chao slipped past us to come into the fenced pool area.
“How much do we owe you?” I asked.
“Hundred and sixty bucks,” he said.
I counted out the cash. Fortunately, there was enough to cover the pizzas and breadsticks and give the guy a decent tip, too. “Here you go,” I said, handing him the wad.
He tipped his hat. “Y’all have fun.”
“Thanks. We will.”
We had no plates or napkins, but that didn’t matter. People ate the pizza right out of the box, using their beach towels to wipe their hands.
Paige and Chaoxiang stood in a corner on the opposite side of the pool. Alexa and I assumed our seats on the lounge chairs. As I ate my pizza, I sent telepathic messages into the universe, willing the techs to finish up their work at the murder-suicide and run the prints on the toothbrush, and for Detective Jackson to send me a text that the prints on Paige’s toothbrush matched the ones on the phone. Come on, guys! Hurry up!
Finally, a buzz came from my phone.
It was the much-anticipated text from Aunt Jackie.
And it read Not a match.
Not a match? How can that be? How could the evidence confirm that Paige was not the person whose prints appeared on both the cell phone and her cup from Club Bassline? I closed my eyes and pressed my fingertips to the lids, trying to make sense of things. The only explanation was that the dealer had been at Club Bassline last night, had touched Paige’s cup, and I’d missed him. He’d been right under my nose and I’d been too busy dancing with a sexy poodle to even notice. Some undercover cop I was, some aspiring detective. Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be an investigator. Maybe I should just focus on writing parking tickets.
Defeated, I glanced over at Paige and Chao. While her face and gestures were animated, belying her excitement at seeing him, his face and posture were relaxed. He stood with one arm draped over the fence, the thumb of the other hand hooked casually through a belt loop.
Wait a second. Something about his stance seems familiar …
The thumb hooked through the belt loop. The guy from the dash cam footage taken at Tio’s Taco Stand, the one who’d seemed vaguely familiar, he’d walked with his thumb hooked through a belt loop, too.
“Oh, my God,” I said softly on a breath, talking to myself. Could Chao be the dealer?
“What?” Alexa asked, her cheek bulging with pizza.
“Oh, nothing,” I said. “Just talking to myself.”
My brain quickly took inventory of the evidence. The prints on the cell phone that we knew for certain belonged to the dealer matched prints lifted from Paige’s cup from Club Bassline. I’d assumed the prints were Paige’s, but could they be Chaoxiang’s instead?
They could!
He’d taken a drink from her cup last night at Club Bassline. I’d forgotten about it until now. Also, he was from China, where the chemicals needed to make MDMA were less regulated and thus easier to obtain. It was possible he had connections there.
Still, none of this evidence was a hundred percent sure, irrefutable. But you know what would be? An alert from Brigit.
I roused my partner from her spot at my feet and attached her leash. I led her over to Paige and Chaoxiang, walking slowly and even stopping a couple times along the way to let Brigit sniff the shoes and towels and clothing strewn about, as any dog, professional K-9 or otherwise, would do. As we approached our quarry, I bent down and whispered the order in Brigit’s ear to scent for drugs. Her intelligent eyes met mine, letting me know she understood. Gotcha, partner. I’m on the case.
I led my partner up to Paige and Chaoxiang, offering a welcoming smile, a “Hey!”, and a flirtatious head toss that I hoped would distract them both from Brigit sniffing Chao’s legs down below our line of vision.
Paige hadn’t introduced me to Chao at the rally or the nightclub. It was an implicit compliment, I supposed, as if she wanted to keep him away from other girls he might find attractive. Of course she had no choice now. She couldn’t very well ignore me when I was standing right in front of her. Or at least I’d thought so. Instead of introducing us, she stared at me with her laser-beam eyes again. I could almost feel them cutting through my skin, searing all the way to the bone, etching a message. Back off.
Given that Paige had forgotten her manners, I turned to Chaoxiang. “Hi. My name’s Morgan. I’m Paige’s new suitemate.”
Chao dipped his head. “I’m Chao.”
Down at my knees, Brigit issued her passive alert which, to anyone else would simply look like she’d decided to sit. But I knew better. Chao has drugs on him. It was clear he was the dealer. Paige’s incessant glare told me something, too. Her motive for helping him distribute his dirty wares, for writing the ads on the bathroom walls in the dorms, for picking up his cash drop at the gas station. She was a woman in love, desperately trying to please her man, willing to do whatever it took to keep him from walking away completely. Love made people do heroic, wonderful, selfless things. But love also made people do stupid, dangerous, even criminal things. Women’s prisons were full of lovelorn women who’d been led astray or even taken a rap for their man. The things we do for love.
Chao eyed me closely as he took a sip of his beer. I wondered if he had any inkling I was the “bluebonnet” who’d ordered Molly from him.
“That beer looks good,” I said. “Think I’ll get one myself.” I led Brigit over to a cooler nearby and fished a beer out of the ice and near-freezing water. Brrr!
I glanced around for somewhere private I could make a phone call. The clubhouse. I carried the beer into the small building on the patio, Brigit padding along beside me. Alexa was sitting at a table inside now, eating pizza and playing quarters with two boys and another girl and losing miserably judging from the way she tilted to one side. I set my beer on the table next to her. “I’ll be right back to get this.” I slipped into the bathroom, bringing Brigit with me and locking the door behind us.
Inside, I dialed Detective Jackson, speaking in a whisper. “There’s a guy at this party who drank out of Paige’s cup last night. I’d forgotten about it until I saw him here. Brigit just alerted on him. His first name is Chaoxiang. I don’t have a last name.”
“I’ll get officers over there right away. What’s the address?”
I gave her the number and street and ended the call. Before exiting the bathroom, I took a deep breath to calm myself. I didn’t want my behavior to somehow put anyone on notice that something big was about to go down.
I rounded up my beer from the table and headed back outside to the pool. Paige and Chao were sitting sideways on the lounge chair now, Paige’s beach bag under the chaise behind their feet. Paige had her arm draped over Chao’s back, a possessive hand curved over his shoulder. Poor, poor girl.
I took a seat on the edge of the pool, dangling my legs in the water as I sipped the beer. The faint smell of burning marijuana wafted over from a group huddled around a built-in grill outside the fenced pool area. A group of young men who’d been shotgunning Budweisers decided now was a good time for a cannonball contest.
“Boo-ya!” yelled the first as he took a running leap into the air. The bulky guy impacted the water’s surface with a huge KERSPLASH that sent a tsunami out in every direction, including mine and Brigit’s. The water lapped over the side of the pool, dousing me and my dog. Brigit jumped to her feet.
Not to be outdone, the next guy ran, hopped into the air, and performed a flip before cannonballing into the water. Splash! Water rained down on everyone around the pool, causing a few of the girls to shriek and the boys to laugh.
While the boys’ antics might be a bit annoying to someone just trying to relax poolside, the show provided a great distraction that would come in handy when my fellow officers arrived. Officers would have a much easier time sneaking up on the group if everyone was focused on the guys in the pool rather than the cruisers pulling up in the parking lot.
To that end, when the boys had completed their turns and things threatened to settle down, I raised my beer and hollered, “Girls’ turn!”
I set my beer on a nearby table and took a running leap at the deep end of the pool, jumping into the air and performing what cheerleaders and baton twirlers called a Texas T, both legs spread wide, hands reached for toes.
I surfaced to applause, whistles, and catcalls. Also Chao watching me with a smile tugging at his lip and Paige watching him with hurt, angry eyes.
She stood from the lounge. “I’m next!” she cried. She ran at the pool and jumped, attempting a flip but not quite rotating far enough and landing flat on her back, a reverse bellyflop. SMACK!
“Ho-lee shit!” called one of the boys, cackling with laughter. “That had to hurt!”
Paige surfaced, her face as red as her back.
In my peripheral vision, I saw two black-and-white cruisers pull up in the parking lot to my right. Nobody else seemed to have noticed yet. Good.
A boy pushed a girl in the direction of the pool. “Show us what you got!”
The girl giggled, ran at the pool, and jumped in, arms and legs flailing in the air.
“What the hell was that?” the boy called when she surfaced.
“Police!” came Derek Mackey’s voice over a bullhorn. “Nobody move.”
I turned to see the Big Dick approaching, along with Officer Spalding, Officer Hinojosa, and another K-9 team comprised of Officer Eklund and his Belgian Malinois, Brutus. The officers had their flashlights out, ready to shine a spotlight on anyone who might try to run off. There was a chorus of tinny thuds as every underage drinker let their beer slide from their hand to the ground and took a giant step back as if playing a solitary game of Mother May I? Drinking? Who me? You’re quite mistaken, Officer.
I did the same, slipping my beer between my legs and letting it fall into the pool. It bobbed for a moment, then turned sideways, filled with water, and sank to the bottom, leaving a yellowish trail in its wake.
A beam of light found my face, blinding me.
“I saw that!” Mackey shouted. “Stay right there!”
Is Derek really going to take advantage of this situation to harass me? I suppose I should’ve expected as much.
A couple of the boys and one girl tried to run, but Hinojosa headed them off at the pass and corralled them back toward the enclosed patio.
Brigit stood next to me, her tail wagging as she watched her canine coworker sniff his way around the area. Brutus alerted on a towel near the crowd at the grill. When Eklund picked up the towel, a bag containing several rolled-up joints fell out.
“Who does this belong to?” Eklund demanded.
Nobody spoke, presumably thinking there was strength in solidarity.
“All right,” Eklund said. “You’re all going in.”
Two boys in the group caved and pointed at a third, who responded by throwing up his hands and crying, “You assholes!”
I cut a glance at Paige. She sat still on the lounge, her arms crossed over her chest, a scowl on her face. But she sat alone.
Where the hell is Chaoxiang?
My eyes frantically scanned the complex. He was nowhere to be seen.
DAMMIT! Had he slipped away? I had to alert the officers somehow. To get one of them on his track.
I stood up next to the pool.
Mackey was in my face in an instant, his breath reeking of the extra onions he always requested on his burgers. “I told you not to move! What part of ‘stay right there’ do you not understand?”
“Chao’s gone,” I snapped as quietly as possible. “He was sitting next to the girl on that lounge chair last I saw him. Get Brutus on his trail. Now!”
It took Derek a moment to realize what I was saying. But when it registered, he stalked over to Eklund and leaned down to whisper in his ear. Eklund glanced my way, led Brutus over to Paige, and issued him the order to track. Brutus put his nose to the ground and took off toward the gate.
Standing there, doing nothing, was hard. I wanted to get Brigit on Chao’s trail, too, not because Brutus wasn’t up to the task—he was—but because I wanted this bust. I was the one who’d gone undercover, lived in a tiny dorm room, held a girl’s hair back while she puked. And, dammit, I wanted to take Chao down. Making an arrest, taking a bad guy off the streets, was the ultimate in job satisfaction for a cop, and I was being denied that satisfaction.
Still, once Brutus had nabbed Chao and brought him back here, I could toss my cover and at least celebrate with my fellow officers, right?
Unfortunately, that’s not what happened. Officer Eklund and Brutus returned a few minutes later, alone, Chaoxiang’s trail apparently running cold. No doubt Chao had hopped into his car and hightailed it away from the complex.
I screamed in frustration on the inside. ARRRGH! This wasn’t the end of things, of course. There was more than enough evidence for Paige to be taken in for questioning now. After all, the dealer’s prints were on her cup from the bar and she appeared in the dash cam footage at the gas station.
Derek had been making his way around the gated pool area, checking IDs for those who were drinking, issuing citations for minor-in-possession to those who were underage and smelled of alcohol. When he reached Paige, she reluctantly offered her driver’s license. He took a look at it and said, “Let me smell your breath.”
She shook her head, refusing.
Derek expanded like a puffer fish. The guy didn’t like being challenged by anyone, but having a young woman like Paige stand up to him, especially when she stood an entire foot shorter, had clearly pissed him off in an epic way.
As I watched, Derek reached down and grabbed the bag from under Paige’s chair. “Is this yours?”
She said nothing, again refusing to cooperate.
Derek plunked the bag down on the chair and bent over to rummage through it. It was then I spotted Alexa standing at the fence, her cell phone out, videotaping the search. She wasn’t the only one recording the events. All around the place kids had their phones aimed at the officers.
“Well, lookee here!” Derek cried, raising a victorious hand. A clear bag was clutched in his fist. It was filled with what appeared to be a dozen or so white capsules. Molly.
Paige’s mouth dropped and her eyes went wide. “That’s not mine!” she cried. She looked sincerely surprised. Shocked, even.
Derek raised the beach bag. “This is your bag, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but—”
“Eklund!” Derek shouted. “Get Brutus over here.”
Eklund led the Malinois over to the chair.
Derek held the bag in front of the dog’s face. “What do you say, Brutus? Is this shit illegal?”
Brutus sniffed at the bag and sat, issuing a passive alert.
Derek cackled that nasty cackle that was like sandpaper on my nerves. He dropped the pills back into Paige’s beach bag. “Cuff her, Eklund. I’ll get the dark-haired one with the mutt.”
Derek stormed my way and got in my face once again. “Give me your wrists!” he barked.
Hey, if he was going to take me in, I might as well have some fun with this, right? I raised both of my hands in front of me in a zombie pose. Derek reached for my forearm, using more force than necessary, clearly taking advantage of the situation to give me some crap. But he’d seemed to have forgotten that I could give as good as I could get. Rather than letting him cuff my wrist, I jerked my arm out of his hold, put my hands to his chest, and shoved him with all the force I could muster. His arms windmilled as he fell backward, a look of utter shock on his face as he plummeted ass first into the water. Nothing had ever sounded as satisfying to me as the ensuing splash!