A deep groan came from around the corner. I lifted my gun and stepped around the doorway. The suspect was propped up against the bed. His face was black and blue, and his nose was broken. Blood streamed over the back of his hand as he pressed it against the wound on his side. He struggled to talk. “Where’s my brother?”
I shook my head, and he understood my silence.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “That goddamned dealer, he’s peddling some deadly fucking base.” He squeezed the words out as if each syllable was stealing his last breath.
“Who was it?”
He hesitated.
“Look, you’ll be off the streets for awhile,” I stared down at the hole in his side. “Or maybe for good. And that base just took your brother’s life.”
The prospect of death prodded the name out of him. “It was Pulse. He’s been pushing some really tainted shit lately.” He laughed weakly and pressed his hand harder against his wound. “That mother fucker better find himself a good hiding place.”
***
“Hey, Stevens, you’re back,” I heard someone call across the noisy office.
I peered up from my paperwork. Dex walked across the floor with a greasy bag clutched in his hand.
“You’d better have a breakfast burrito for me in that bag. Otherwise don’t even bother to stop by my desk.”
Dex stood over my desk and fished inside the bag. He pulled out an orange paper wrapped burrito and dropped it in the center of my paperwork. The smell of grilled onions made up for the grease stain spreading across the documents.
“Hey man, thanks for having my back out there.” I could barely hear him over the rattle of the burrito wrapper.
“I didn’t have your back, Dex. You got shot. Wasn’t ready for it, and I’m sorry about that.”
“You jumped out there to cover me without thinking twice about it, Luke. You had my back.”
I nodded but I still wasn’t convinced. I’d gone over the whole thing in my head more than once, and I’d come to the conclusion that I should have covered him better.
Dex dragged a chair across the floor and sat at my desk. “Hey, remember that little brunette we went to junior high and high school with?”
I blinked at him. “Care to elaborate or am I going to have to go through every brunette in my memory?”
“Well, you banged most of them, I’m sure there’s a catalogue of them up there in your skull. Her name was Jasmine, and she always wore those tight sweaters.”
I stared at him still.
“Big tits and big brown eyes?” he added with an edge of irritation.
“Oh yeah, her. She did look fine in those sweaters.”
“She was my nurse at the hospital, and she’s as hot as ever.” He leaned back. “I was thinking of asking her out. After my little brush with death—”
“You walked to the ambulance,” I mumbled over a mouthful of food.
“Only because of my vest.”
“Do you mean the vest you always have a bitch fit about when we’re about to go on a raid?”
He waved his hand. “Yeah, yeah. Anyhow, I was thinking it is time to settle down.”
I sucked in a piece of egg and covered my mouth to cough. “Sorry, Bro, it’s just that you make plans to settle down every time you meet a cute girl.”
“Fuck you, Luke. Not everyone can be a Barringer brother. Some of us have to work to get a lady’s attention.”
“Hey, I work at it.”
He lifted an irritated brow at me. “Smiling in the direction of a girl is not work, so shut the hell up about your work.”
“Stevens, glad to see you back,” Detective Carson walked up behind him. “You’re just in time.”
We both looked up at Carson questioningly. The man always insisted on wearing a tie, but it was always askew, giving him a permanently frazzled look. “You’ll never guess who’s in the interrogation room right now.”
“Is she blonde?” Dex shot back.
Carson rolled his eyes.
“Hey, if we’re going to play twenty questions then I decided to start with last month’s centerfold.”
“Thought you might have been a little humbled by your experience out there, Stevens, but obviously not.” A faint grin broke on his face. “You know that little weasel who’s been pushing the deadly junk?”
“Pulse?” I sat forward. “He came to us?”
Carson nodded. “Scared shitless and looking for some protection. Seems every junkie on the street is out looking for him. He’s willing to talk if we keep his skinny ass from getting torn to shreds.” He motioned down to my half eaten burrito. “So finish that artery clogger, and come down to interrogation.”