Page 15 of Gypsy's Lady
Decision time
“Yo, Tatum, you hear the latest?”
Doug looked up from pouring a mug of the disgusting station coffee and studied the patrol officer facing him. Nathan Williamson wasn’t someone he knew well, but the few times their paths had crossed, he’d found the man extremely competent, which was more than he could say for about half their respective peers.
Shakinghis head, Doug lifted his coffee, sipped, and grimaced at the bitterness of the caffeine in a cup he so desperately needed. Last night had been another long ride, followed by a meal at a member’s home over in Ohio. It had been nearly 3:00 a.m. when he crawled into bed this morning, only to have to roll out and begin his day with too little sleep.Still worth it. Staring at Williamson, he was struckby a resemblance to one of the Rebels, Deke.
Williamson’s mouth twisted to the side. “You remember that big deal politician from Indy we had up here a while ago, Sullivan?”
Doug’s belly flipped, then settled as he took a slow breath and nodded.
Williamson didn’t need more of an invitation. “Fucking piece of shit’s been replaced by a bigger piece of shit. Dude’s connected to a kiddy porn ringToledo PD busted last year, but all evidence about him mysteriously disappeared”—Williamson made air quotes around the words—“and everything got swept under a big, ole greenback rug. Now, get this—” He paused and fisted his hands on his hips. “—I pick up the local computer repair geek over in Huntertown on possession charges. Barely, I mean, if he hadn’t been an asshole, the tiny bit of potpie hehad wouldn’t have mattered to me. But get this, he offers up this politico on a platter to make his own shit disappear. Guy had brought his computer in and sang a song and dance about how an old buddy had stayed at his house for a week and used the comp, and after he moved along, this dude noticed it was acting weird.” Williamson flattened his cheeks with his palms, creating the illusion of shock.“Oh no, kiddy porn? O. M. G. Ewwww. Make it go away.”
Doug snorted, and Williamson grimaced. “Exactly. Dude paid off the geek to destroy thehard driveand then paid him a fuck of a lot more to be quiet about it. Geeks, man. Don’t ever piss ‘em off. They’ll own your ass. Kept a copy. I just handed it to the capandhe gave me this stare down that said it all.” Williamson reached past Doug topour a cup of coffee, then backed up with the waxed container in hand, glaring at the dark surface as if it was to blame for his frustration. “Geek’s released with no charges, and you and I both know ain’t nothing at all going to happen to the big man in office.” Mouth twisting like it had earlier, the resemblance to Deke was more pronounced.They have to be related. “And now I gotta watch myback.”
“Not alone, brother,” Doug said, reaching out to grip Williamson’s shoulder on instinct. “I got your six.”
“Thanks, man.” Williamson tipped his chin as he gulped at the hot coffee, seemingly impervious to any stinging from the steaming beverage. Doug heard a buzz and Williamson pulled his phone out, a smile flashing across his face. “Missus. Gotta take this.” With no more than that, heturned and put the phone to his ear, affection in his tone as he greeted his spouse with, “Dionna, hey, baby. What’d the doc say?”Missus. Fucking cute.
Doug turned back to the coffee urn and refilled his mug.So, we get rid of one guy, and up pops another piece of shit to take his place. It’s like fucking Groundhog Day.
Scrolling through his e-mail before clocking out for the day, one subjectline stood out, because it contained the dirty politician’s name coming up for the second time that day. Doug opened it to find a report attached from one of the detectives in Indy who had worked the man’s death. It was a witness account of an attack that had happened in an alley close to the river where Sullivan had died. The witness had seen three men cage the smaller man against a wall, havean intense conversation that ended with what was assumed to be Sullivan on his back, unmoving. The witness, who was a homeless guy tucked into a dark corner of the alley, claimed he’d seen the three men carry Sullivan to the edge of the river, roll him into the water, then turn and walk away. Of greatest interest was the witness’s description of the men’s clothing, which included dark vests withskull patches sewn to the back. He’d given a good description of the Rebel Wayfarers patch.
Doug stared at his screen for a moment, then mind made up, quickly composed a response dismissing the witness’s claims. Notoriously inconsistent with actual events, given the distance of the witness from the encounter, level of darkness, the likelihood of alcohol or substance abuse in play, and the factthe coroner’s report didn’t list any injuries on Sullivan consistent with what the witness claimed, Doug soon found himself believing his own words. He had to, because otherwise what he was doing was a felony.I’m a fucking cop, for God’s sake.
He reread his response, tidied up some of thelanguage, then dida quickrecords search on the witness, finding thecoup de gras, several arrests forpublic intoxication and possession. Adding that info to his e-mail, likely something the Indy detective already knew,Doughit Send, knowing he’d just buried the true events under a pile of steaming bullshit.
After work, he went home and changed into a tee and jeans, slipping his feet into the already well-worn biker boots. Outside he didn’t pause, didn’t hesitate before climbing on the bikeand starting the engine with a tiny smile on his face, the first of the day. At the Rebel clubhouse, he knocked and waited on the back porch to be let in or turned away.I don’t have a place here, yet. The longing was strong for that place to be set in stone and he made a decision.I can be both, he promised himself.But, can I, really?
The door opened, and Winger grinned at him, motioning himinside. Doug paused, keeping the toes of his boots on the edge of the threshold. Suddenly, it was imperative heknewthe answer before he took that step. Winger stared at him expectantly. This wasn’t the first time Doug had been to the clubhouse, so his reluctance at entering would definitely ring a warning bell, telling Winger this visit was different.
For another moment he stayed there, literallystanding on the outside of where his heart pulled him to be. Inside were men he already calledbrotherin his head, men he would put himself at risk to save, even if they never knew he already had. He was outside lookingin,and wanting. God, he wanted so bad it was hard to breathe. Without greeting Winger, without even a first hello to break the silence, he blurted, “Can a man like me find ahome here?” Bald need threaded through his words, and he didn’t try to hide it. “Do I have to choose?”
Winger’s chin dipped towards his neck and a solemn expression formed, his smile fading quickly as he nodded. “You do, son. I won’t lie. What you’ve got so far, with us…with the RWMC? That’s all you’ll ever have as long as you’re hiding behind a badge. Cops and clubs, we don’t mix.”
Unexpectedpain ripped through Dougandhe bent over, hands on his knees, struggling to catch his breath. “Son.” Winger’s hand rested between Doug’s shoulder blades, steadying him. “It’s a life-changing decision, and it’s all on you.” Eyes focused on the boards between his boots, Doug nodded in understanding.It’s all on me. An image of his computer screen flashed across his thoughts, the words of his investigation-derailing e-mail echoing through his head and he realized he’d already made his decision.
Pushing upright, he stared Winger in the eyes, holding the man’s gaze for a long moment. “It’ll take me about six months to leave the force. I’ve got things in motion I need to see through to the end.”
“Kind of man you are, that’s not a surprise.” Winger lifted one shoulder, then let it drop. “What happened todayto push you to this, Lawman?”
“That’s what I came to tell you.” He lifted a foot, then hesitated. “Probably should let Mason know I’m here before we talk.”
“It’s like that, is it?” Winger’s gaze was steady,andDoug nodded, finding himself calmed by Winger’s confidence. “All right, son. Come on in. We’ll get set up in the office.”
Doug followed Winger through the door, pulling it closed behindhim, shutting out the rest of the world.
***
“Tatum, need you in the conference room in fifteen.” The captain didn’t wait for his response, just turned and walked out of the squad room where they went over the day’s assignments. Doug turned to look at his newest partner, who shrugged. His status of being an over-the-top white knight earned him a new partner every few weeks or months, as menrequested to be cycled elsewhere. Their fears his reputation would rub off were probably real, and he honestly couldn’t blame them. It still sucked trying to learn a new partner and build trust, knowing they’d be bailing in no time.
The door was closed when he approached so he paused and rappedonthe surface with a bent knuckle, waiting until he heard a clear, “Come in,” to enter. He swept theroom with his gaze, recognizing a few of the men, but most were strangers to him. Credentials pinned to their pockets named them as IPDandthe sight of those in this precinct gave him pause. He would never have a good relationship with his own crew here in Fort Wayne, but from hisexperience,the Indy boys were better to deal with any day of the week.
There were stacks of papers on corners ofthe main table, a scattering of maps and folders across the surface. In the corner was a blankwhiteboard, andDougexpected it had been flipped beforehecame in, knowing the other side wouldn’t look as pristine.
His gaze flicked across the names he could see. Doug recognized two of them and nodded, receiving brusque nods in return. “Tatum,” the captain said, “this is a need-to-know conversation,but you’ve dealt with this kind of criminal element before, and I want to take advantage of your expertise.”
Scratching the side of his nose with one nail, he tipped his head to the side andwaited fora beat, but that was all the captain said. “Okay.” Anotherbeat,and Doug followed with a cautious, “Wannaread mein?”
