Liam’s eyes flicked toward Mickey, then Carlyle, then down to his own hands. “I talked to a guy.”
“How many guys in the truck?”
He shrugged. “Dunno. Two, probably.”
“Armed?”
He shrugged again. “Probably.”
“What time is the pickup?”
“Dunno. Depends. Could be in half an hour, could be an hour, maybe two.”
Erin stood up. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll call it in.”
Mickey took a step away from the wall. “Who you gonna call?” he growled.
“My people,” she said.
“And tell ‘em what?” he retorted. “The Oil Man finds out Liam told you this, you’re gonna be pullin’ him outta the East River in a day or two.”
“Then what the hell did you call me here for?” Erin shot back.
“I didn’t want to call you. Cars said you take care of things for him. Take care of this.”
“That’s what I’m doing.”
“Not your people.” Mickey uncrossed his arms and thrust one massive finger at her. “You.”
“That’s not how the NYPD does things,” she said. “I’m not going to take down a couple of armed thugs by myself on your say-so.”
Mickey nodded. “That’s what I told him,” he said. “Take away the badge and you’re just a naked pu—”
“Careful, Mick,” Carlyle interrupted in a deceptively soft tone. “You open that door, I don’t think you’ll like what’s behind it.”
Erin sized up the man in front of her. She could ignore Mickey’s instructions. Chances were, he’d let her and Rolf walk out without a fight. By herself, she didn’t think she could take him, but with her K-9 she bet she could. But that wasn’t the point. This was a test, to show Evan O’Malley how useful she could be. If she fought with Mickey, the O’Malleys wouldn’t trust her, and that could get both her and Carlyle killed down the road.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll keep Liam’s name out of this. I can play it as a tip from a guy we snagged earlier. I won’t say a word about this meeting. But I have to bring the Narcs in. I’m going to need a few more bodies to make the stop. And I have to get on this now, if you want me to get it done. So, would you mind getting out of my way?”
Mickey didn’t smile, but he did nod to her with just a little respect. And he stepped aside.
“Catch you later,” she said to Carlyle.
“Thank you, Erin,” he said, rising. “Be careful.”
* * *
If Erin had really wanted to be careful, she wouldn’t have found herself meeting up with the Street Narcotics Enforcement Unit. SNEU had a reputation for reckless behavior, as Erin’s dad had warned her. But they were also unconventional enough to go along with a tip from a dodgy source in Major Crimes on very short notice. Erin knew Lieutenant Webb would be pissed at being kept out of the loop, but there wasn’t time to explain up the chain of command. She got in touch with Narcotics, who patched her through to Sergeant Logan, one of the guys on duty on the Lower East Side. She called him from her car, already en route.
“Logan here.” He sounded awake and alert. It was middle evening, about nine thirty. For a street Narc, the workday was just getting going.
“This is O’Reilly, Major Crimes,” she said. “I got a hot tip. You got some guys willing to make a street bust?”
“Hell yeah. How much weight?”
“Could be twelve kilos.”
“I’m in,” Logan said. “Where and when?”
“It’ll be in a truck on Saint James, headed toward Bowery. It’s happening soon, sometime in the next couple hours.”
“Copy that. I can have my guys there in twenty. Meet you at Triangle Park, next to the cemetery?”
“Copy,” Erin said. “These guys may be armed, so be ready to come heavy.”
“Copy, O’Reilly. See you there.”
Chapter 14
Sergeant Logan and his squad were hanging around the Saint James Triangle Park when Erin got there, looking like overage delinquents.
“Okay,” Erin said. “Which one of you cowboys is Logan?”
“O’Reilly?” Logan said, coming forward and offering his hand. He was a tall, lanky guy with a black leather jacket and a silver skull earring. “Glad to meet you. Paul Logan. This is Janovich, Firelli, and Piekarski.”
The three other Narcotics officers, two men and a woman, nodded greetings. Erin could tell they were wearing bulletproof vests under their coats. She’d put on her own body armor in the car. Rolf had his vest, too, which spoiled the plainclothes effect for him.
“You better get that K-9 out of sight,” Logan said. “How you wanna play this?”
“It’ll be two wiseguys in the truck,” she said. “Maybe do a surprise roadblock?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I figure we’ll put Piekarski up the block. She’ll call it in when she makes the vehicle. Then Firelli pulls out of that space there and blocks the street. Then you, Janovich, me, and the dog take ‘em from both sides. Quick and hard, don’t give ‘em a chance to resist.”
“Sounds good,” Erin said. “The truck’s going to be labeled ‘Speedy X-Press.’ You got that, Piekarski?”
Piekarski, a petite blonde in an old denim coat, grinned and winked. “Gotcha covered. I’ll give you a block’s worth of lead time.”
“Everyone make sure you got your radios up,” Logan said. “O’Reilly, you want to wait in your car with your dog?”
“Sure,” she said. “You and Janovich going across the street?”
“Yeah,” Logan said. “Okay, let’s set ‘em up and knock ‘em down, people.”
Logan and Janovich put their hands in their pockets and strolled across the street, acting like just a couple of ordinary New Yorkers. They leaned casually against the wall of the building across from the park and settled into a conversation.
Firelli glanced at Erin. “You ready to roll with us, O’Reilly?”
“Absolutely.”
“Shit’s gonna move fast once it gets rolling,” he said. “This ain’t paperwork, desk jockey.”
“I’m a detective,” she reminded him. “I work for a living.”
He smiled, showing a gap where one of his front teeth should’ve been. “Whatever you say. Just jump when we jump.” He walked to his car,
