Ava was shocked at first but quickly came to understand the situation. By essentially rescuing Pawlowski from the three men, she’d embarrassed her. Now she’d seem like the weaker of the two and no one would take her seriously. Everyone would see her as the poor little lady officer that needed another woman to swoop in and save her.
“I overreacted,” Ava said, feeling silly for needing to apologize for standing up for another woman. “I can’t stand to see men think they can just rule over women like that. And you looked uncomfortable and overwhelmed, so I—”
Pawlowski got right up in Ava’s face, so close that their noses were nearly touching. “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”
Triggered by Pawlowski getting in her face, Ava was unable to keep control of her temper or her tongue. “Really? Because it seemed like those three were a little much for you. Or do you enjoy being groped like that?”
She could see the hurt and anger flashing in Pawlowski’s eyes. She was also aware that if they stood there much longer, they were certainly going to attract unwanted attention.
“I didn’t want you here,” Pawlowski said. “But I tried to stay quiet and be the good little obedient woman. Seen and not heard, you know.”
“And you’re fine with that? Being only something to look at and not respected?”
“Of course I’m not,” Pawlowski said, raising her voice. “You just…mind your own business while you’re here, Gold. We’re partners for now and I have to live with that, but you’re not my protector.”
And before Ava could respond to this in any way, Pawlowski turned and started back up the stairs. Ava watched her go, unable tonotfeel a little sympathetic. Maybe shehadoverstepped. After all, she knew what it was like to be the only woman in a precinct. She knew the obstacles and hardships Pawlowski faced every day. And yes, sometimes having someone save you from it was a burden more than a blessing.
Ava looked at the front door, and then to her watch. Her shift would be over in about forty-five minutes. She figured she could go back inside and debrief with Miller. Or she could head back out on the streets and try to scratch up more information on Perkins and his business with people associated with the Chrysler Building. Then again, with the way things had gone with Albrecht, she was a little hesitant to revisit it all in that moment.
“To hell with it,” she muttered.
She turned away from the doors and started walking to the right. At first, her thoughts were indeed on Perkins and where else she may be able to look in order to get more details on what had truly happened to him. But within just a few steps, her thoughts went elsewhere Perhaps it was because of the stress and drama of the past ten minutes or so, or just because of the sudden change to her routine that she hadn’t quite processed.
Whatever the reason, she started looking for a cab. And as she kept her eyes on the streets, she reached into the pocket of her jacket. There, she found the familiar shape she’d been carrying around since yesterday, thumbing the edges and wondering where it might lead her.
She was about to find out. She felt the matchbook in her hand, the words The Ash Lodge written on the front. But before she hunted down that particular location, there was another stop she needed to make first.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
While she knew dishonesty was definitely not the best way to make an impression at a new precinct, Ava was fully prepared to tell Miller that the last half an hour or so of her shift had been spent looking for leads in the Perkins case. She felt confident there was no way he’d be able to find out what she’d really been up to—which was looking into what she felt might be the final pieces of her husband’s stagnant murder case.
The cab dropped her off in front of the abandoned building where she’d found Jim Spurlock the day before. She was still unnerved by just how close she’d come to nabbing the bastard. That feeling of anxiousness and anger started to sizzle in her heart as she walked around to the back of the building. She doubted anyone would be there today after she’d busted in the day before. She was fine with that; she’d left the place so quickly yesterday that she hadn’t had time to properly look around. She’d grabbed the matchbook on something of a whim and now wondered if there would be other clues that had been left behind.
When she entered through the back door, she was surprised to find that someone had been back. The place had been cleaned up, the scattered cards and poker chips collected from the floor. There was no sign that this little dusty back room had recently been used as a makeshift gambling parlor, and definitely no sign that she’d been here in a physical altercation that had nearly ended with the capture of Spurlock.
The fact thatsomeonehad been here in the last twenty-four hours or so put Ava on high alert. She glanced around the room, noting that there were several places someone could have hidden if they’d heard her coming: behind an old counter along the back wall, in a small closet-like room directly in front of her,or down the short hallway to her right that led to the central part of the building. Still, the place was so immaculately cleaned that she wondered if someone had swooped in, took all of their stuff, and relocated. She didn’t think Spurlock was tied up with the mob but she also didn’t think it was outside the realm of possibility that he was behind some sort of illegal, movable gambling organization.
She walked to the center of the empty room, still able to smell the lingering scent of smoke and sweat from the night before. She couldn’t help but wonder how long Spurlock had used this place as a makeshift hub of operations. Had it been long enough for him to have run here in hiding after killing Clarence and escaping the police? To think he’d potentially spoken of it here, in this room, made her feel sick to the stomach. Of course, it was all just speculation at this point and she saw no sense in working herself up over it.
As she started to consider looking the place over, wanting to check every nook and cranny this time, her hand slowly dipped down to the holstered sidearm at her hip—the .38 revolver she’d somehow managed to not use lethally in her line of work just yet, despite her often reckless behavior.
She started walking for the closet because it seemed like the most obvious spot to make a quick escape for anyone that had been alerted at the last moment, maybe by her footsteps approaching the back door. She walked to it and as she reached out for the knob, she heard motion behind her.
She wheeled around, hand nearly drawing her gun. But she froze at what she saw, her instincts kicking in.
There were two men standing in the hallway. They’d apparently been elsewhere in the building and had just happened to come into the back room. That, or they’d known she’d been there ever since she’d first stepped inside. Whatever the case may be, they both had guns and they bothlooked abundantly happy to see her. She was quite sure she remembered one from last night. He was a tall, skinny man with a well-trimmed beard. He wore a casual suit and currently had a .38 of his own aimed at her.
The other man sported a handgun she’d never seen before. It was sleek and somehow much deadlier than his partner’s .38. He was wearing a plain white shirt and a pair of black pants.
“Detective Gold,” the suited man said. “I don’t know if you’re very brave or just plain stupid.”
“I was thinking the same thing about you.”
In the silence that followed, she nearly pulled her gun. She decided not to, mainly because she figured if these men wanted her dead, they would have shot her already—probably even before she’d turned around to face them. But if shediddraw and they got antsy, there was a very good chance at least one of them would open fire.
Ignoring Ava’s jab, the suited man sneered at her and asked, “Why are you here, Detective Gold?”
“Looking the place over.”