Chapter Eight
Later that night at the unfamiliar police station, separated from the clingy teen, Carolina was grilled again for every tidbit of information she could share. Precise, with no unnecessary words, Carolina gave her statement.
Soon, Detective Crawly, along with his boss, Deputy Chief Eric Prowler, had her isolated in his office where Carolina felt ambushed. “Understand this, sir. The identity of the killer doesn’t concern me. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re trying to coerce me into taking on an assignment.” Carolina rubbed her hands on her jean-covered knees, glad she’d taken the time to change. “As interesting as this case is, my plans have been made. I’ve just finished a brutal undercover mission, and I’m heading out for a well-earned vacation.”
Visions suddenly appeared reminding her of the last few weeks. They were getting close to D-day and the many combined forces involved in the take-down of the gang she’d penetrated meant loose tongues could get them all killed. Understanding this, she’d lived on her nerves and bad dreams for too long, and the consequences were the rioting emotions she suddenly had to deal with when she faced danger or hard choices. Like earlier in the apartment, facing a killer –my knees shook so bad, I almost lost it.
Shuddering, stress signals began vibrating. She felt a tightening in her chest, the stifling feeling that she’d stop breathing if she didn’t concentrate ramped up.
When everything had started to unravel those brutal days before the final showdown, these same disgusting emotions had first reared their ugly heads. She hated not being in control, weak, shaky and close to tears. Frailty had never concerned her in the past, and it sucked.
If she ever intended to get past this breakdown and back to doing her job efficiently, this shit had to be dealt with – doctor’s orders. Time she considered her own health, he’d said. You desperately need some peace of mind. In fact, he’d warned her just that morning in no uncertain terms… no stress.
“Agent Madison, please don’t misunderstand. Earlier, you revealed your competence in the way you handled the situation. We were impressed and very glad you were there.”
Thing is – I was shitting myself every minute, metaphorically mind you.
“If there was anyone else we could turn to, it would be done. But these are the facts.” The too-slender, pale-faced, frustrated man wiped his hand over his bushy, gray mustache for the third time in as many minutes. He looked over at the detective who’d so far kept his mouth shut.
A frown from the boss who’d begun to pace around the office got him talking. “The kid’s smart, Carolina. Knows her rights and has a mind of her own. If we take her back to the previous institute, she’d be a sitting duck. Plus, her body language screamed she wouldn’t be kosher with that proposal.”
Remembering her earlier conversation with Alicia, Carolina grinned without humor and added, “You’re right.”
Again, smoothing his mustache, the pacing man came to a stop next to his detective and leaned back against his desk. “So, we promised to set her up with a female officer in a safe place. But… and get this straight… you’re the only person she’s willing to trust in that capacity.”
What?“You’re kidding me. She’s a nice kid. I feel sorry for her, but right now, I’m not the protection she needs.” Carolina shot to her feet, moved behind her chair and gripped the back, leaning her rebellious stomach hard against it.
Prowler lowered his voice to a level not so demanding, less confrontational. “I wouldn’t even approach you if I hadn’t cleared it with your boss, Carolina. He agrees with me that there’s no time to waste. We need to move on this case.”
“Why? Do you know the killer’s identity?”
“We only know him as Dylan Ross. We’ve been told he’s a black man with short-cropped hair, medium height and muscular. In the underworld, they call him Silverado because for his executions, he uses a silver .45 ACP – Automatic Colt Pistol – with pearl handles engraved with his nickname. Other than the silver bullets he likes to use, we haven’t any DNA or photographs; the man is careful, and in each country he’s used a different identity. In the last four years, he’s been tagged for six major kills and is wanted by many governments, ours predominantly. As a gun for hire, he’s considered one of the best and paid handsomely for his services. So whatever the victim did, someone willing to pay a lot of money wanted her dead and without any strings.”
Detective Crawly added his two cents. “Look, this Ross character has been on our radar after three prime kills in the US… that we know of. Powerful people internationally, who’ve made a huge noise through their local Police and Interpol, demand action, too. If he’s hunting in our territory, I’d sure like to be the cop to bring him down.”
“And you figure he’ll stick around to take care of loose ends, meaning Alicia.”
“Oh, yeah. He’s not going anywhere until he cleans up this mess.”
Zeroing in on something he said earlier, Carolina questioned, “You mentioned that you talked to my boss, Deputy Assistant Jake Crompton?”
“Yes. He hesitated to speak on your behalf, explained you’d just come off a grueling case, and he wouldn’t be prone to forcing any new assignments on you right now. Said he’d leave it up to you, but would expect a report from you personally before you take on any role.”
“In other words, he’s agreeable but…” This didn’t surprise Carolina. Her boss was a man who believed in respecting his people. He’d taken a shine to her from the first day he’d been assigned to the Bureau in his current capacity. The fact that he’d held back from making any serious personal overtures would be simply because Carolina had let him know right from the beginning… don’t bother.
He’d asked her outright if his being a single dad had anything to do with her rejection, and she’d assured him that wasn’t so. She was totally off any serious relationships, so his circumstances didn’t matter.
She simply wasn’t interested, not in him or any of the other men in the office who’d made advances… and the one woman, who’d only shrugged when Carolina’s eagle eye had shut down her first attempt.
“Exactly, he’s agreeable. Agent Madison, we’ll refund all the costs of your vacation, anything you need, just as long as you can keep that kid alive so when we bring in that animal, she can identify him as the killer. He’ll go down for the rest of his life. But without our only witness, Alicia Shoal, we have no case, only circumstantial evidence that any well-paid scumbag of a lawyer could oppose and get him his walking papers.”
Heart-sore, Carolina stuck to her guns. “You don’t understand, I’m burned out. I’m not giving up my vacation. I can’t. The way I am now, I’m no good to anyone.”
Bristling, Crawly added, “You were damn good earlier.”
“Because my training kicked in. I had no time to think about what to do.” Her pride wouldn’t let her admit to the multitude of negative emotions she’d suffered.
Prowler approached. “What if you don’t have to give up your vacation? What if we arrange everything so you just take the kid with you… into witness protection? We’ll set you up in the same kind of accommodations you previously arranged, and you can choose wherever you want to go.”