“We need to talk to Burke as quick as possible,” she decided. “And we need to keep tabs on Agent Johnson, in case he’s our guy. And we need someone to stay on scene here until Webb gets here. Piekarski, can you hang here and talk to the Lieutenant?”
“Copy that.”
“Okay, Vic, I want you to find out where Johnson is, what he’s doing, and who he’s talking to.”
He stared at her. “Erin, you’re asking me to run surveillance on a Federal agent.”
“Nothing official. No phone taps. But we have to know what he’s up to. Is that a problem?”
He smiled then, a nasty smile with no warmth in it. “No problem. What’re you gonna be doing?”
“I’ll talk to Burke. I assume he’s on his way back to the Eightball?”
Piekarski nodded. “Logan and Firelli are bringing him in right now.”
“Then that’s where I’m going. Vic, you can take Rolf and me there. Johnson may be there, too. If he’s not, maybe you can pick up his trail.”
“Copy that. Let’s do this.”
In the Taurus, on the way back to the precinct, Erin got to ride up front this time. Rolf sat in the back, watching Erin attentively.
“Piekarski seems like good police,” Vic commented.
“Yeah, she is,” Erin said.
“How well you know her?”
“Not real well. I pulled a job with her squad a few weeks back. Drug bust.”
“I didn’t hear about that. It wasn’t one of our cases, was it?”
Erin didn’t want to talk about it, not with Vic, but it had bled through into their current case, so she wasn’t sure how much choice she had. “I got a tip from one of my CIs,” she said. “Liam McIntyre, if you can believe it. He saw a chance to take down a rival and tipped me off about a heroin shipment. I fed it to SNEU and they let me ride along.”
“So she’s paying you back now? Favor for a favor?”
“Something like that.”
“You know if she’s… you know, with anyone?”
Erin blinked. “Seriously, Vic? We’ve got more than a dozen bodies stacking up in the morgue, and that’s what you’re thinking about?”
“Hey!” he said defensively. “I just thought I got this vibe from her, like maybe she was into me a little.”
“No, Vic, I don’t know if Piekarski is sleeping with anyone right now,” Erin said, rolling her eyes. “Maybe you should find out yourself, along with some other things. Like, maybe her first name?”
“Wow, look who’s a prude all of a sudden,” Vic said. “You must not be getting any yourself.”
“You’re amazing, Vic. I can see why they made you a detective. Absolutely nothing gets by you. My love life’s an open book and you’re reading every chapter.”
“Sarcasm, O’Reilly?”
“From me? Never.”
“Okay, I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“Look, Vic, you’re a grownup, more or less, and so is she. You do whatever the hell you want. Just try not to let it affect the case.”
“I’m just saying I like working with her.”
“And hey, at least this girl’s not likely to try to have you whacked.”
“That happened once. Once! Jesus, I’m the one who can’t get away with anything around here.”
Vic and Erin hurried into Precinct 8 and split up. Vic went looking for Homeland Security, while Erin grabbed Sergeant Malcolm at the front desk. Malcolm was a veteran of her father’s generation, well past his twenty years but still hanging on. He smiled when he saw her.
“Hey, if it isn’t Sean’s girl,” he said. “You got a kiss for a lonely old man?”
“Glad to,” Erin said. “Come out from back there and bend over. Rolf, küss.”
Rolf looked at Erin. She had, indeed, said the German word for “kiss,” but that wasn’t part of his training. He was waiting for her to give him a real command.
Malcolm laughed. “Looks like you’ve got a boyfriend on the Force already. Don’t worry, big fella, I’ll keep my distance.”
“Say, Sarge, did a couple plainclothes officers bring in an Irish guy a little while ago?”
“Yeah. They just got here a couple minutes ahead of you, just booked him.” Malcolm checked his log. “We’ve got one Leonard Burke in lockup right now. I think the boys who brought him in are still in there with him.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“How’s your old man these days? He miss the action?”
Erin paused on her way to the door. “Yeah. He was just telling me the other day how much he missed hosing vomit out of his car after hauling drunks downtown. He says a nice, quiet day on the lake with a fishing rod just doesn’t give him the same thrill.”
“You saying I should retire?”
“Might be worth thinking about.”
Malcolm spread his hands around the lobby. “And leave all this behind?”
Three Patrol officers were trying to separate a pair of streetwalkers who were in the middle of a screaming match. A guy was standing a few feet away from Erin, staring past her with pupils dilated like dinner plates. He was having a conversation with somebody named Renny, who didn’t appear to exist. Erin gave Malcolm a shrug and led Rolf away.
She found Sergeant Logan and his buddy Firelli in the process of figuring out the vending machine outside lockup. Firelli was feeding a crumpled-up dollar bill into the slot.
“Hey, guys,” she called.
“O’Reilly,” Logan said.
The machine spat the bill back out into Firelli’s hand. He cursed and tried again.
“Where’s my guy?” she asked.
“Room one,” Logan said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.
“He give you any trouble?”
“Nah. He tried to run when we showed our shields, but they always do that. Firelli grabbed him before he made it halfway to the door.”
“Anything on him?”
Logan grinned. “Oh, yeah. Snub-nose .38, a switchblade, and a pocketful of nose candy. Unlicensed gun for a major parole violation, illegal knife, and Class D felony weight of heroin.”
“It’s the trifecta,” Firelli agreed. He smiled. Then the machine gave him his dollar back again and the smile fell off his face. “You know how to get a bag
