“That’s a lot of pictures,” he said.
Each photograph was special. She’d packed all of her things from the apartment and knew exactly how each had been wrapped in paper, tucked safely away, to keep the frames from being scratched and the memories intact.
“It looks like someone was angry when they didn’t find what they were looking for,” she said.
The box had been upended. Broken glass, bent frames, a torn photograph rudely glared at her from the floor. Pieces of her existence were carelessly scattered from one corner to another.
A picture of the O’Malley children, dressed in their Three Musketeer terry-cloth capes and stick swords, lay under the first layer of her life.
“Michael said, ‘stick to man.’ He assumed you would ask for the picture.” She lifted the solid wooden frame her father had put together from their pretend swords. “This is what he meant. You’re the man and the frame is the stick.”
“It’s not the right photo.”
“I bet it is.” She flipped the frame over and the backing protecting the picture had been sliced and taped. She pulled the brown paper away and the picture of her brother was stuffed behind the front photo. Walter stood on a wooden dock with her baby brother beside him. His red hair was short from his time at the academy.
“He really is one of Pike’s Guys.” The picture confirmed all the faith she’d had in her little brother. “He gave up his family in order to bring down drug dealers and dirty cops.”
“Let’s get back to some light before you remove the picture so we can see everything.”
Secret Agent Man tried to contain his impatience, but it radiated from each movement he made. No huffing and puffing, but a definite “hurry up” and she loved that he tried to stuff his hands into nonexistent pockets on the scrubs. He ended up interlocking his fingers behind his head.
“No more torture.” She removed the picture then the cardboard and two phone cards were revealed—a microSD and a SIM card. “It can’t be that simple.”
“Great, another freakin’ delay.” Erren sounded frustrated and wasn’t bothering to hide it. “We don’t have a way to read the data.”
“Wait a minute. Sean found an SD/USB adapter on the floor when we were painting. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Hold this and stay here.” She placed the small cards in the palm of his hand. “Where did Sean put that thing? Oh yeah, the kitchen drawer.”
It took a minute in the dark, but the light from the alley helped find the bright green adapter. “Got it.”
Without seeing the information on the card, a feeling of relief filled her entire body. Followed quickly by a moment of disappointment that her time with her new partner was close to an end. It built hard and fast, creating a lump in her throat that she pushed aside.
Her desires didn’t matter. Michael may never wake up. Pike was dead.
She returned to the bedroom within seconds, staring at Erren who sat on the bed, holding the cards in one palm.
“This is it. It’s almost over.” She took the cards from him.
“So…let’s see.” Erren slapped his hands, rubbing his palms together. “Where can we find a computer? I’m assuming yours is no longer here after the search and seizure.”
“Not so fast, cowboy. We can view everything on that prepaid cell Brian gave us.”
“You’re a techno-geek and a pencil pusher. Good to know.”
She scooped the phone from the nightstand and they both sat on the edge of her new queen-size bed. It was either the bed or the floor.
Once the SD card was in the phone, she said, “Are you ready to apologize?”
“Why should I?”
She found and opened the photos application. “Because I’m about to prove that Michael is innocent.”
The first photos were of people she didn’t know—almost normal pictures as far as she could tell. A girl, several men, nightlife…things any person would have on their cell phone. And then there were pictures of drugs being used.
She thumbed through and Erren watched without a word.
Fifteen or sixteen pictures went by and she thought she might have to apologize to Erren for her assumptions about Michael’s innocence. From the partying he’d documented, it seemed clear he was into the drug scene.
Then pay dirt. She zoomed in on the JPEG and held it up for Erren to look closely.
“We need to print these pictures so they’re easier to read, but that’s an evidence inventory sheet.”
“How do you know?”
“That’s my handwriting. I took witness statements and verified evidence. I processed the drug busts and substantiated proof for prosecution.” She advanced to the next picture. “That… That’s not right.”
“What?”
“I remember this case, and the numbers on this document aren’t the same as what I documented in the files. The drug bust was huge and this states it was minor.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. They underestimated the amount they confiscated. I confirmed the changes with the DEA. It was one of the last cases I was involved with, just before my transfer to the academy.”
He jumped from the bed. “Where are your copies?”
“I filed everything with the department.”
He grinned, lifted his brows and nodded his head. “After two days of your note-taking, I am assuming you have backup copies of everything you filed. Backup copies that aren’t stored at the department.”
“Sure, I burned CDs, but—”
“Don’t you see, Darby?” There was no mistaking the excitement in his voice or his expression. “Pike knew. This is why he transferred you to the academy. I’m not here to protect pictures on an SD card. Your brother found out they were planning to eliminate the evidence. I was brought here to protect you.”
“I’m not following.” She held up the phone with one hand and tapped on it with her other forefinger. “You’re here to deliver the package to the ADA.”
“Officer O’Malley,
“You’re crazy.”
Erren watched as Darby shook her head, thumbing more rapidly through the pictures on the phone. His handler’s face came up again and again. She didn’t know the significance of the man’s connection to the DEA. But their can of worms had just exploded.
Hell, could this get any worse?
“Not crazy. You’ve been shot at, chased down and your partner is dead. I’m surprised we didn’t think of this before. Makes more sense than anything else on this bizarre case.”
Erren turned her in his arms and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
“I’m not worried about me. There has to be more. Something to prove Michael’s innocence, not just copies of these files that connect cops to stealing drugs. This can’t be everything. We haven’t looked in the right place.”
He wanted to brush the worry lines from her brow. Tell her everything was going to be great. He couldn’t force the words. They were lies and he was tired of not being truthful—at least with her.
“These guys are good. You know it. I know it. Pike and Michael knew it. I’m going to make sure you make it to the witness stand alive.”
He shoved her toward the bathroom, stealing the phone from her hand. “Now, get ready and I’ll take you and Michael’s evidence to Thrumburt.”
“I think you’re wrong,” she said.
“You don’t or you’d be arguing.” He smiled, knowing her brain was running through a list of possible things to discuss. “We aren’t arguing.”
“I could come up with something…” She threw him a tempting smile. “Or you could help me wash my
