Mr. CEO(112)

I think about it, then shake my head. “I don't know anymore. I know Peter needs to go down still. The entire DeLaCoeur network needs to be dismantled. But...”

“But you've got complications now,” Darcy says simply, nodding. “You're thinking about what this means to Jackson, to Andrea. And I'm going to be blunt, you're thinking more than just about what you did to Jackson.”

“I… I don't know,” I reply honestly. “It's like you said, complicated. He's an ally, that's for certain. Considering he went toe to toe with Nathan last night in boxing, he deserves at least that much.”

Darcy hums knowingly, and I give her a look. “What?”

“Nothin'. Just glad to see that you're maybe considering that there's more to life than death and revenge. Listen, if you've got a few hours, I can get to work on reaching out to my contacts now. We might have something for you by the time Jeff gets home, he's working a double today.”

“Ouch, double shifts? What's up?”

Darcy shakes her head. “Contract talks are coming up, and a lot of guys are calling out sick because they think the new contracts are going to take away their built-up sick days. Jeff isn't mad though, the day shift's doing community outreach at one of the elementary schools, then just catching up on paperwork. His sergeant's looking out for him.”

“When is Jeff going to go for sergeant?” I ask. He’s a year younger than Darcy at thirty-one, and has been on the NOPD for eight years now, so I'm curious. “And yeah, I can hang out a little bit.”

“Good. And Jeff thinks that maybe a sergeant slot's going to open up pretty soon. He's already a training officer, he thinks he can maybe make a shift sergeant slot as soon as the new fiscal year comes up. A couple of guys are slated to retire, and he's one of the top training corporals. If not, he'll look for an Academy slot, see if he can maybe get a daytime only shift job for a year or two.”

“That'd be nice. With Henry going to preschool soon and all. You sure you don't need more help with him?”

Darcy shakes her head and chuckles. “You know how it is, Kat. I make more than enough with my work that I can afford to spend time with Henry. Besides, I do too much and it starts to look strange to the IRS. Don't need them sniffing my backtrail.”

“You're legit now,” I remark, putting the last of the clothes in the basket. “You really think they'd chase down BlakDhal1A?”

“I think after I cracked a couple of government d-bases three years ago that I haven't told you about totally, they'd chase me for quite a while,” Darcy says. “Come on, let's get these put away, and I'll start making phone calls.”



Darcy's still working her connections when Jeff comes in, his blue on blue uniform causing me to sit upright before I realize who it is. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says, obviously confused. “Uh, you are?”

I get up off the couch, where I've been reading some Clifford the Big Red Dog to Henry, who's more interested in chewing on the foot of his teddy bear than my reading.

“Sorry, I'm Katrina Grammercy. I'm a friend of Darcy's. Nice to meet you.” I offer my hand, which Jeff shakes with a smile.

“It's been too long since I heard your name for the first time. Nice to finally meet the Baby Girl.”

I roll my eyes as Jeff laughs. “Is she going to call me that for the rest of my life?”

“Shit!” we hear from the back of the house, and we both look. Darcy comes out, her brown eyes slightly red with frustration and embarrassment. “Sorry. Sorry Henry, Mommy's just upset.”

Henry mumbles something, turning over. He gets off the couch and comes over to Jeff, his arms out for a hug. Jeff sweeps his son up and into his arms, covering his little face and tummy with kisses. “Daddy silly!”

“You make Daddy silly,” Jeff says, giving his son another hug. “Now, hang out for a second with Kat and let me get this uniform off. You don't need to be messin' with anything Daddy's got on.”

I notice that Jeff's not carrying, and he meets my eyes. “Since Henry was born, I leave it in my cruiser,” he explains. “The take-home policy on the cruiser is a bit expensive, but the neighbors like it, and it's safer for Henry. I can leave both my Smith and my shotgun in the trunk there.”

“Nothing for home defense?” I ask, and Jeff shakes his head. “Wow... gutsy.”

“Not all of us are willing to keep a Glock 18 in our living room,” Jeff replies, telling me he knows more about my operations than he might otherwise have. “Don't sweat it, I understand. Just... be careful with that thing, okay?”

“I am,” I answer, taking Henry from him and holding the squirming little boy, who promptly grabs a handful of my hair and yanks. “Ouch, glad I don't wear earrings either.”