“Go change out of your uniforms and put on your BDUs. I want you two partnered up in an unmarked vehicle. If they are back in town, we don’t want them to know we’re already looking for them.” That’s the smartest thing he’s said since the robberies last week. As directed, we hastily change out of our uniforms and into our BDUs.
“We’re going to talk to Lil Romeo to see if he knows anything,” Kade informs our corporal when we run into him outside of the locker room. In return, we receive a nod of understanding.
Before we disappear down the hall toward the garage, Corporal Duncan reminds us that we are not to act like heroes and try to take down the suspects on our own. He told us that if we find them, call for back-up, and wait, emphasis on the word “wait.” If we engage and lose them, it will be automatic administrative leave for insubordination.
The request doesn’t come from a place of distrust, but from a place that Corporal Duncan knows first hand. He’s well aware that Kade and I show no fear. Our approach to a potentially high-risk traffic stop or call can be considered reckless at times. We’ve been told to stand down and wait for back-up but have taken our chances if we felt the perpetrators would flee, entering dark alleys or warehouses without so much as our duty guns and tasers. Some of the other officers we work with have nicknamed us the “Cowboys,” and they never once complain if we’re their back-up. They know they’ll go home safe.
We’ve been driving around for a couple of hours when our confidential informant, Lil Romeo, an ex-gang member who was shot in the back, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down, finally responds to Kade’s text message. He says he’d heard Abel Flores and Jesus and Chico Hernandez were back but doesn’t know where they are hiding out. Lil Romeo tells us he will text if he finds out anything further. Still, since he’s able to give us their names, we can run them through our database and cross-reference with the Drug Enforcement Administration and the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
After running their names, we find that these particular gang members are not only wanted in California but also Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, and Mexico too. They are also known to be drug runners for one of the Mexican cartels, which means that this shit just got way more complicated.
“I don’t get it. Why would they chance getting caught robbing a bank and a liquor store?” Kade asks the question we’re both thinking as we stare at the computer screens displaying all three of their pictures with their rap sheets that go on for pages. “That’s petty bullshit that the cartel doesn’t bother with.”
“Fuck if I know.” I’m just as confused as my partner. These men are more dangerous and more connected than we anticipated. And why didn’t we learn this from our informant?
“Whatcha got, guys?” Sergeant Black asks as he shuffles toward the desks where we’re sitting.
“The CI gave us their names and said he would text if he finds out anything more.” I proceed to fill in our sergeant on what we’ve found out through our database search.
“Is Romeo a good informant? Do you trust what he’s telling you?”
Kade and I have been using Lil Romeo as a CI ever since he was discharged from the hospital after being shot by a rival gang member a couple of years back. We made him a deal that if he worked with us that he wouldn’t face jail time, and since agreeing, all intel he has provided to us has been legit. Romeo is not afraid to tell us when he is uncertain about the information disclosed.
“He hasn’t lied to us yet,” I answer Black’s question. “But he did fail to mention their cartel connection.”
“Is it possible he doesn’t know?”
“That is a possibility,” Kade responds. “I think he would clam up if he knew. No one wants to be in the crosshairs of the cartel, and even though Lil Romeo isn’t an active gang member, it doesn’t make him untouchable, especially if anyone finds out he’s a snitch.”
“Good work. That’s more information than we had when we began. Carry on,” Black says as he continues past us, disappearing down the corridor.
Kade and I go back out on the streets, driving around the shittier side of town, hoping we come across the men we are tasked to find. Having one of the Mexican cartels this close to home doesn’t sit well with either of us, and their random robberies aren’t helping the situation. Are the robberies intended as a distraction for the police department or the DEA and FBI?
4
Britney
My mind hasn’t stopped thinking about Kade, and it’s becoming a distraction. I was honked at twice for sitting at green lights for too long, and I don’t even remember how I got home. It’s like my mind was on autopilot while I was daydreaming about what he would feel like pressed against my body, even if for the briefest moment.
“Earth to Brit,” Sydnee’s voice cuts through my Kade thoughts.
“What?” My tone is snippy, but I didn’t intend for it to come out in such a manner.
“What crawled up your ass?” she rightfully snaps back at me.
“Sorry, Syd. Nothing. What was it you were saying before I rudely zoned out?”
“Deacon or Kade?”
“Both.” The look she gives me lets me know she understands that if it involves both my brother and his too hot best friend, whatever is bothering me isn’t going to be resolved any time soon.
For a brief period of time, Syd and my brother hooked up. Although I still feel terrible for putting the wedge between her and Deacon, I was only trying to rationalize with my brother that he should have the same courtesy and step aside if I chose to date one of his friends. After he ended things with her, I repeatedly apologized, explaining that I never told him to break it off and that it was his own stupidity. She knew it wasn’t my doing.
“Here.” She holds out the bottle of merlot we opened with dinner, and I happily accept it, pouring myself another glass.
“Deacon is a pain in my ass. And don’t get me started on Kade. That man knows damn well what he does to me, and it’s like he enjoys taunting me. He’s the forbidden fruit, and dammit, I want to eat that fucking fruit.” I take a drink from my wine glass before setting it down on the coffee table.
“Then do it.”
It takes me a few seconds to register what my best friend just said. Then do it. I’m an adult, and my brother should not be dictating my love life or lack thereof. But what if I’m misreading the signals Kade has been sending since high school?
“Kade probably has a few women in rotation. There’s no way he’s single,” I reply defeatedly. Not only is Kade built like a god, but he’s charming and kind-hearted under that hard cop exterior. Any woman would be lucky to land him.
“Now you’re a wuss. You’ll never know how he feels unless you put yourself out there.” I love my best friend, and she’s saying everything I want to hear, but sometimes she needs to listen and not give her two-cents because every fiber in my body wants to go to Kade’s house and wait for him to get off work.
“I’m not a wuss. I just don’t think it would be smart to piss off my brother. They have to work together, and carrying family drama into their line of work is a distraction neither one can afford.”