“How?”
I throw my hands out to my side. “The kid sees a career she wants, and you’re trying to force her to walk in your shoes. Jesus Christ, you sound like mom just before I went to the Army.”
“Ouch. Low blow, Devi.”
“Look, if Izzy wants to be a cop, you’re not gonna stop her or change her mind.”
Izzy smiles. “Mom, I really want this.”
Her jaw clenches. “Okay, dear. If this is what you want, then I support you.” She rubs her arm.
I turn to my Niece. “When this is the case is over, I am going to set you up with Detective Jack Costigan, and he will take you on a ride-along so you can get a feel for what it’s like to be on patrol. Secondly: I am going to walk you through the academy to show you what the training is like.”
She launches forward and hugs me. “Thank you, Devi.”
“You’re welcome, but remember, the police academy is no walk in the park. You have to put in the work, and you have to want it as bad as you want to breathe.”
“I got this,” she states confidently.
“I like your attitude already. Here’s what I’m gonna do I am going to send you a copy of the laws we have to learn, and when you don’t have any school work, I want you to study that because the academy has a big academic aspect to it. Also, I’m going to take to the firing range when I have some free time and train you up with a handgun and a shotgun so you can pass the firearms training.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“You can thank me by putting all your energy into this. Now you have to be 21 to join the academy, but all that means, is I have plenty of time to turn you into an expert.” I stuff my empty food tin into the bag.
Ingrid steps into the room.” Hey, guys, what’s up?” her mouth slides into a bright smile. “Izzy! How’s it going, girl.”
“It’s kinda lame because we have to sleep in a breakroom, but things are good other than that.”
“Well, I have good news. You and your mom can bunk at my place till Devi’s case is over. Unless your mother objects.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to invade your space.” Tavia’s voice timid.
She gestures with both her hands. “No, no, it is fine. Devi is family to me, and so are you two.”
Now I don’t feel so bad about going home to my bed.
I clean up the empty food containers and toss them in a garbage bag. “Well, I’m heading home to catch some sleep myself,” I say, hugging Izzy and my sister.
“Be safe, Devi. These are dangerous people you are going after.”
“Don’t worry, sis, careful is my middle name.”
“Yeah, you got bruises to prove it.”
“You should’ve seen the other guy.” I chuckle and wink at Izzy.
She laughs. “Good night, Tia.”
Chapter 25
Heading up to my apartment, I notice Christa is kissing some man passionately in the pool as he gropes her tits. Never knew she had a boyfriend, but then again, I never cared enough to ask. However, it does make me wish Greg was here so I could blow off some steam, but giving all the shit that’s happened it’s probably best he stays away from me for now.
I step into my apartment, and Isis comes bouncing up to me, meowing loudly. “Alright, Ms. Piggy. I will get you some food.” I crack open a can of food and set it down for her, and head to my bedroom. I open up my closet and pull out my Mossberg Cruiser and load it with eight 12 gauge buckshot shells and place it on my lap.
It would’ve been safer if I had crashed at Ingrid’s, but I need answers.
I shut off all the lights to give the illusion I am fast asleep. I sit against the headboard and fire up a smoke and pour me a glass of scotch. I take a drag from the Marlboro and wait.
An hour passes, and I hear someone fidgeting with the lock.
Damn, did I call it or what?
I grab my shotgun and dart to the spare closet in the living room and leave the door cracked. I see a tall silhouette creeping through my house, in a tactical stance with a suppressed pistol. I only see one person with him, which makes me suspect this is the sniper who killed Barrett. The intruder turns the corner and stalks to my bedroom. I inch out of the closet and point the shotgun at his spine. I stay out of reach to keep him from doing some fancy judo shit to disarm me. I cock the Mossberg, and he freezes in place. “Drop the gun, or I blow your guts all over the wall.”
He drops his gun, and I slam the butt of the weapon against his head, knocking him out. I handcuff his hands behind his back and tie his legs together with a pair of zip ties. I slip on some latex gloves and heave his body over to a dining room chair. I pick up his Heckler & Koch 9mm and gaze at the suppressor.
The temptation is almost too much to endure.
I switch on the stove light to set the mood. When I was undercover for the Cartel, they like to use low lighting to freak out the person they were torturing.
Time to get to it.
I fill a glass up with cold water and sling it in his face. He bursts awake, gasping from the shock of the cold water. I glower at him. “Buenos Dias, sunshine.” My voice low.
“I’m not telling you a damn thing.”
Brooklyn accent. Definitely not MI6, so I am going with
