Bargain Hunting by Rhonda Pollero Page A

connection. It would be safer if the car was rented by someone other than you.”
    “So you want me to drag one of my friends into your mess?”
    “I was thinking Becky. I did just help you save her from a sicko.”
    “I won’t lie to my friends. I’ll rent the car, and if anyone asks, I’ll say I was trying to keep the mileage low on my leased car.”
    “Okay, but you may be biting off more than you can chew. You could get dragged into a mess.”
    “I think that ship sailed when I bleached your shoes last night. Please fill me in.”
    “I don’t know where to start,” he said.
    “How about the beginning?”
    Liam kept pacing. I took off my shoes and tucked my feet beneath me as I sipped my coffee and waited. And waited. And waited. When I couldn’t stand the silence any longer I prodded, “Well?”
    “My team got a tip about some guns for sale by a local gang called the Latin Bandits. They were using the gun money to buy and distribute drugs. So we get to the house and before SWAT even parked their van, the shooting started.”
    “You were shooting?”
    “We were all returning fire. It was a residential area and the Latin Bandits weren’t going to give it up without a fight. They aren’t the kind to back down from a fight.
    “So this goes on for about fifteen minutes, then SWAT floods the house with flash bangs and Latin Bandits come running out like lemmings. But there are still guys in the house firing, so we yelled for everyone to get on the ground while we continued to return fire. Eventually things quieted down and we scattered as we entered the house. We cuffed the gang members, and while we were doing that, a shot rang out. So I take cover and nothing happens. Then when I leave the house I see the paramedics working on one of the gang members, on the ground.
    “The kid didn’t make it. He was fifteen but he was a hard fifteen. Still, too young to be dead.”
    “I don’t understand why you resigned then.”
    “Internal Affairs did a routine investigation on the shooting and determined that the fatal shot came from my weapon.”
    “Well, you were in the middle of a gun battle with a gang.”
    “Except for two things.”
    “Which are?”
    “The kid’s hands were negative for gunshot residue, meaning he wasn’t one of our shooters. And the weapon identified as the gun that fired the fatal shot was ballistically matched to mine.”
    “Isn’t collateral damage part of police work?”
    “It wasn’t my service weapon. It was my off-duty gun and I didn’t have it at the scene.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “I never did either. The last time I saw that gun it was lockedin the gun cage at headquarters. I have no idea how it ended up at the scene.”
    Emptying my mug, I then asked, “So why did you get in trouble?”
    “Of the six guys there, only one, Stan Cain, told IA that I used only one weapon at the scene.” He raked his hand through his hair again. “It didn’t look good for the department for a white cop to kill an unarmed Hispanic kid. They brought me up on charges and even insisted that the state’s attorney convene a grand jury.”
    “What happened with the grand jury?”
    “Garza, he was the riding ASA, had my back. I don’t think he gave the case his all. He’s known as a friend of law enforcement, so he didn’t press as hard as he could have. Besides, when I told him my side and Stan backed me, he must have believed there was enough reasonable doubt to make a trial irrelevant. In the end it all shook out with me being given an opportunity to retire quietly or be fired publicly.”
    “Well, that sucks.”
    Liam rejoined me on the sofa. “I never did figure out how my off-duty gun found its way to the scene, and after the IA investigation, I was pretty much a pariah. Even José turned on me. He was my partner and he gave a sworn statement that he saw me draw my off-duty weapon from an ankle holster. Which was total bullshit.”
    “Wasn’t there some way to trace