Page 25 of Devil and the Deep Blue Fish

The cops had arrived.

Unexpected Backup

JACKSON HADknown some good officers and some really, really bad ones, and when all was said and done, going to the wall for Adele Fetzer and Jimmy Hardison had been one of the smartest—and best—things he’d ever done.

Officer Fetzer was a thirty-year veteran of the force, a Black woman in her fifties with a few gray hairs clubbed into submission with the weight of the midnight black wealth of them into a tight, single braid down the back of her head. Jackson had been with this woman in a firefight, and he’d never seen that braid—or Fetzer’s composure—waver. Not once.

Hardison—or Jimmy, as he was known to his friends—was the kind of paunchy white guy who had probably needed to work his balls off to pass his fitness exams year after year, but he kept doing it because he didn’t trust anybody to have Fetzer’s back but him. They were both married to other people—thank fuck, because they’d kill each other otherwise—but they had the kind of partnership that brought out the best in them.

It was what partners were supposed to do for each other, and Jackson felt the pang of Henry’s absence so strongly he had to suck in a breath.

“Rivers,” Fetzer said as they neared, “I understand you were first on the scene. Would you like to sit down?”

Jackson nodded and glanced at Galen and John, asking them to move away with a flick of his lashes.

They exchanged glances, and while John shook his head, Galen made shooing motions and proceeded to move aside so Fetzer could take a seat near him. Jade and AJ stood and quietly made their way to the other end of the room, and Crystalwhispered, “I’ll get you a soda, Jackson,” before fleeing down the hospital corridors.

“Sorry,” Ellery said, not moving from his elbow. “I should have thought of that.”

Jackson winked at him, suddenly grateful for Ellery’s constant manners, the sanity he tried to inject into every situation.

“I can tell you what I know,” Jackson said, and then with a careful emphasis, he said, “or I can tell you what Iknow.”

The two police officers understood what that meant.

“Start off telling us what you know,” Adele said, pulling out her notebook. “Jimmy and I are trying to make our paperwork look good. Then tell us what doesn’t need to go into the paperwork.”

Galen raised his eyebrows. “I am impressed,” he said dryly. “That is a lot of loyalty.”

Hardison shrugged. “Not sure if you saw this guy bail our asses out of a firefight about six months ago, but we wereverygrateful.” He glanced around the room, and for a big guy with a jowly face and pouches around his eyes, that visual catalog missed nothing. “Are you gonna tell me these guys are hand models?” he asked.

It was close, but Jackson managed to contain his snicker behind his own hand. Ellery’s mouth had a little war with itself, but he kept his face straight. Galen, on the other hand, almost whooped with laughter, and only burying his face in his shoulder kept him from alerting the entire room.

“So no?” Fetzer asked dryly. “Not hand models?”

“No,” Jackson said on a barely contained chuckle, and the moment he thought,Wait until I tell Henry,the mirth drained out of him. “No,” he repeated again, feeling the strain back on his shoulders. “So like I said, let me tell you what we know.”

He told the two officers about their friend’s mother and her propensity for taking in strays, feeding them, clothing them, helping them find shelter. Henry had been on call to make sure this nice woman was safe, and he’d called Jackson with gunshots in the background. Jackson had shown up on scene, ministered to Henry, gotten the details about the two people running away from violence, and had gone after them to protect them.

And had then come here to see if Henry was okay.

Fetzer put her notebook away first. “Okay, then,” she said. “Now tell me everything you left out.”

And Jackson, who ten years ago had sworn he’d never trust his former boys in blue again, did.

WHEN HEwas done, Hardison took another glance around at the “hand models,” and then cast Galen a gimlet eye.

“He said you were walking from the church with your boyfriend,” he noted, “and a kid tried to solicit you both, as a couple. Why?”

Galen grunted. “I think because we were nice to each other. I think he figured he’d rather be with two safe old perverts than with someone a little less old.”

“Yeah,” Hardison said, “but you guys—you got a… I don’t want to say operation going, but you’ve got a system here. This kid was young. You wanted to make sure he was taken care of. Where would you have sent him if he’d been legal?”

Galen glanced at Jackson and then shook his head. “Well, probably to Isabelle’s house first, anyway. But yes—you guessed that we’ve got a connection to adult industries. In this case, film. My boyfriend doesn’t put anybody underage in front of the cameras—besides it being a felony, he hates the thought of kids feeling coerced. But sometimes the over-eighteen-year-olds know who he is, and they want a job. Three-quarters of the time, he talks them into working for a gas station or a pet store—that’sa lot of his business right now, if you must know the truth. Places where someone young and unskilled can start out in retail and then earn a living wage. But some kids want to make a living with their bodies still—they’re good at it, they’ve had practice, and they can makemorethan a living wage, and my boyfriend gives them that chance.”

Fetzer and Hardison met eyes, and Hardison said, “Johnnies.”

Galen inclined his head. “Guilty as charged.”

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