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Chapter 53

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Mic stared into the nasty, foul smelling grounds at the bottom of her Styrofoam coffee cup and sighed deeply. Slade had gotten a text to report to the station immediately and they hadn’t made it home yet. The precinct was as dismal as ever. The place hadn’t changed at all. If anything it was more archaic and dreary than she remembered. Angel whined softly as she reached down to comfort him. It was late - almost midnight - and way past Angel’s bed time. She cooed softly to him, “Is your hip hurting you, boy?” She rummaged through her purse and searched for the pain reliever he took twice a day for pain. She knew Angel was tired, plus he’d been out in the cold for hours. She rubbed his ears and offered him a jerky snack with his medicine, which he accepted gratefully.

Michaela continued to talk with him and rub his head as his tail thumped steadily on the floor. “Okay, boy. We’re gonna head out. Neither of us are as young as we used to be.” She picked up her briefcase.

Angel struggled to his feet and favored his right hip. Mic leaned down and massaged his hindquarters carefully as Angel stood stoically and offered her a wet tongue and a grateful whimper. She stood and grabbed his lead just as Slade entered the squad room, half of a sandwich in one hand. His face was angry, and his dark eyes glittered. Mic knew that look. He had information.

“What’s up? What do you know?” she demanded as she stood with Angel at her side.

“Just talked to MCV. Danielle is still in a coma and on a ventilator in the surgical intensive care unit. They may do surgery tonight because they think she’s most likely bleeding somewhere. They’re watching her blood work.”

Michaela’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah, I figured they’d do something. She was barely breathing at the scene and the paramedic said one side of her chest wasn’t moving air well.” Mic shuddered as she remembered the beaten body of the young, beautiful woman who’d been so alive and healthy yesterday afternoon.

Slade nodded as his eyes smoldered with anger. “They said she’s pretty beat up, but they’d do what they could. Her head injury is pretty bad, though.”

Mic shook her head as tears filled her eyes. “I’m heading out. Angel and I are whipped. Can you get a blue and white to take us home? I’ll get my truck from Biddy’s tomorrow.”

Slade reached down and gave Angel the remaining half of his egg salad sandwich. “Here, boy, need a snack,” he said. Angel gobbled the sandwich before Mic could protest. She gave Slade a dirty look as he grinned his sexy smile at her and flashed his perfect white teeth. Michaela felt her heart flutter.

Stop it. You’ve been down this road. The last thing you need now is a volatile relationship.

Slade nodded. “I just talked to Stoddard. He met with that FBI guy who’s supposedly an expert on human trafficking.” He grinned broadly. “Stoddard didn’t like him. Said he was a smart ass, and he doesn’t think the kid shaves yet.”

Michaela grinned and shook her head. “Yeah, I can bet where that conversation went. What else?”

“Guy says they have their eye on Smirkowitz—think he’s involved in a trafficking ring. Also thinks the port of Richmond may be the new distribution and transfer point.”

Mic’s face registered surprise. “The port of Richmond? Since when? That place has been dead for years except for a few barges hauling vegetables and beer.”

Slade nodded. “Yeah, really. I agree. Only the feds have turned up the heat in Baltimore so the smugglers are looking for new entry and exit ports. I guess Richmond looks good.”

“Terrific,” Mic said sarcastically. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Don’t know for sure yet, but Stoddard said something didn’t quite add up with the FBI guy. He’s tall, blond, and has a baby-face. The lieutenant said he was agitated after a couple of phone calls. Stoddard said the guy gives him a bad feeling.”

Mic mused over this tidbit of information. “Well, Stoddard’s got a good gut, so I wouldn’t discount anything he thinks. He’s been around the block a bunch of times.”

“Yeah, I agree, but we gotta pick and choose. We both know Stoddard hates fresh-faced, cocky FBI agents tryin’ to tell him what to do, or maybe just FBI agents in general,” he said as he smiled broadly. “So, we gotta factor that in.”

Michaela laughed. “Now, that’s the truth. Is he gonna check out the FBI agent’s story and set up surveillance at the port?”

“Yeah. Stoddard sent an undercover van down an hour or so ago to sneak and peek. We’re going down shortly.”

“Tonight?”  Michaela’s heartbeat accelerated.

Slade smiled as his eyes questioned her. “Yeah, didn’t you tell me Dottie told you Smirkowitz said something about getting someone tonight?”

Mic frowned as she remembered back. “Yeah, she did, but I’m not sure how accurate she is. She said something about Danielle earlier when she phoned me... right after we found her.” Mic paused, “She was tired this evening.”

“Tired or in the sherry bottle?” Slade gave her his famous lop-sided grin.

“Stop it, Slade,” Mic protested as she glared at him. “Dottie is, after all, eighty-two-years old. Tired is the state of life at her age, and if the sherry bottle helps with that, it’s okay in my opinion.”

Slade gestured “back off” with his arms as he shuffled his feet impatiently.

“I just hope I live to be eighty-two and am able to drink sherry, although it will take me at least twenty-five years to acquire the taste.”

“Pipe down, Mic. You know I love Dottie,” he admonished sternly, his dark eyes piercing her hazel ones.

Mic felt a tingle work up her spine. He was so sexy. “I gotta get outta here. We’re both tired.”

Slade smiled. “I’ll run you home. I’ll have someone drop off your truck in a little while.”

“Deal,” Mic said.

“Angel’s tired, too... even though he’s been sleeping a while,” Slade noted as he scratched Angel’s neck and ears. Angel gave him a happy look and continued to chew his rawhide.

Mic stood and gathered her coat and briefcase. “Has anything come in on Allison?”

Slade shook his head, “Afraid not, and we are almost out of time. We’ve been watching Dude’s office and there’s no sign of him or anyone suspicious around his office.”

Mic nodded. “We need to do something soon. Her doctor told me a little earlier that if she’s being held some place cold and if she’s able to exercise, her insulin may hold out another fifteen or twenty hours. Apparently, exercise decreases the need for insulin. That’s hoping she took her after lunch dose before her appointment with Smirkowitz.”

“That’s good, assuming she’s not frozen to death somewhere,” Slade muttered. “We’ve just gotta find her and that's it.”

Mic nodded. “If she is unconscious, I hope they don’t hurt her because she can’t talk to them.”

Slade gritted his teeth. “If she’s being trafficked, we’ll be lucky if they don’t kill her or beat her to death trying to wake her up. They want the women to look beautiful, seductive, and sexy so they can bring the best price... you know, like a bidding war.”

Mic sat back at the old battered desk and remembered the bloodied body of Danielle. Nausea crept into her throat. She stood. “I’m ready. I need fresh air. Let’s get out of here.”

Slade stood. “All right. It’s getting late.”

“I’m sick of this place and besides, I’m not getting paid,” she quipped as she reached for her boots.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Mic pulled on her boots as Angel woke up, scouted out the water bowl and drank heartily.

They moved toward the door, Angel in tow when Slade’s cell rang. Mic shook her head as she reached down and patted Angel’s ears as he sat at attention.

“Yeah,” Slade barked into the phone as Mic kneeled next to her dog and locked eyes with him. He licked her nose with his tongue.

“What! Who? Who’s she working for?” Slade’s voice was angry, his face attentive as he gripped the phone and turned his back on Mic. Angel stiffened and sat quietly.

Michaela rose to her feet and walked around the chair so she could face Slade. She saw Slade’s white-knuckled grasp on the cell.

She touched his shoulder, giving him a questioning look.

He ended the call and stared at her. “You’re not gonna believe this ...”

“Why? What’s happened?” Michaela asked softly, her voice barely a whisper, almost afraid to hear his answer.

“Danielle’s an undercover cop. The Baltimore PD placed her here. They’ve got the bead on Dude and put her in his office as a dental tech,” he said, his eyes smoking with rage.

The implications of this smacked Mic in the face. “Oh my God, Slade. She was targeted.”

“Yeah,” he grunted. “And she was nowhere close to ready for the assignment. She’s little more than a rookie, and she’d never worked undercover before.”

Angel’s fur bristled as he felt the anger roll off his mistress.

“What the hell?” Michaela was furious, her face red and her Irish temper as hot as it’d ever been. “Who the hell did this to her? She’s been sacrificed,” she finished as she threw a paperweight against the wall in anger.

Slade’s voice was brittle with rage. “She was assigned to the local FBI task force investigating human trafficking.”

“You mean that straight-laced fibbie you put off on Stoddard, the creepy guy, the guy the lieutenant doesn’t trust? She must’ve been working with him.”

Slade shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess so. I’m sure that agent must know about her. Danielle’s from Baltimore, she works out of the Baltimore PD.”

Slade was silent for a moment and continued, “She was just what they were looking for ...age, geographic location, ethnicity except she had no experience,” he finished, cursing under his breath. “By the way, what was this baby-faced feds real name?”

Michaela was so enraged she had tears in her eyes. “Except she had no experience. She must have realized she was out of her league earlier today when I found her crying outside Dude’s office.” Mic picked up the broken glass and put it in the trashcan. “Let’s get the hell out of here and do something.”

Slade put his arm around her shoulders to comfort her, and the three walked down the dark hall to the door.

As the cold air hit them in the face, Mic said, “Take me down to MCV. I want to sit with Danielle in case she wakes up and has any info. Besides, I don’t want her to be alone when she wakes up.”

Slade shook his head “Mic, you need to go home. You and Angel are both tired, and besides, the hospital said she was in a coma and unconscious.”

Michaela stared at him and repeated, “I want to see her, just for a moment. Who knows, maybe she’ll wake up,” she added hopefully.

Slade punched a number in his phone. He shook his head. “She’s having tests done. They’ve postponed the surgery since she isn’t any worse. I put a cop outside of Danielle’s room ...just in case the killers learn she’s still alive.”

“Okay,” Mic said as she looked at Angel. “Let’s go home then. Angel and I need to rest a while, right, Buddy?”

Angel wagged his tail, and the trio left the precinct by the back entrance.