murder last night, small time shit. Also an investigation by I.A. You’re keeping busy I see.”
“Internal Affairs wanted me to turn snitch on my captain. He’s been dabbling in a bit of everything for some time now, but they can’t catch him. If I come up with something solid, then they will kick my inquiry,” Jax admitted, setting all of his cards on the table.
“Damned if you do and damned if you don’t. Sounds like your career is over, Thornbird. Maybe you should hop onto one of your daddy’s yachts and sail out of here until the heat dies down.”
“I need you to trace the serial number off this gun.” He turned over his iPhone, which held a copy of the evidence from his wrongful shooting. For days, he’d used burner phones to keep in contact with the most essential people.
“You mean the weapon they can’t find?” Army took the cell and slipped it into his coat pocket. He pulled a ball out of the same pocket then let his dog off the leash.
“The gun is from evidence. I need the name of who checked it out.” The retriever ran across the park to grab the ball Army had tossed and returned with her treasure.
“What if someone stole it from evidence,” Army said. “Then what will you have to go on?”
“Is there any way you can access the vault’s footage from downtown?”
“Legally?”
“No,” he said. “Just tell me who took it. No warrants needed.”
“Your ex-partner, Sherman Jones.”
Jax wasn’t surprised Army came back with an answer so quickly. Army would never have put his future in jeopardy by helping a fugitive.
“This morning I caught a call from dispatch. A shooting in Sherman’s building. Did Sherman—”
“Yep, your ex-partner has been admitted into intensive care, prognosis critical,” Army relayed in a dry, emotionless manner, as if he were reading a menu.
He couldn’t be too upset by the fed’s demeanor. Army wasn’t friends with Sherman or his family, but Jax was, and he felt crummy.
“Do you think he helped set you up?”
“No,” he confessed. “Sherman probably saw something and that’s what got him hurt.”
Couples with babies strolled through the park. People with pets walked across the grass to enjoy the peaceful fall afternoon. Meanwhile, his life continued to turn upside down.
“Ten minutes, Thornbird,” Army said, reminding him of the small amount of time remaining to plead his case.
“I want to clear my name.”
“For what? Your career in Homicide is finished.” Army threw the toy up and down, testing his animal’s self-control. “Even if we cleared you, you’re untouchable with the I.A. thing hanging over your head. Like I said, take a vacation.” He chucked the ball, allowing the retriever to break free and chase after it.
“Everyone will think my family influences got me off. I worked too hard for that to happen.”
The dog trotted back with the toy in her mouth and dropped it at her master’s feet without encouragement. She watched him intently, waiting for a kernel of attention.
Army had always been a control freak. The complete and utter devotion of his pet was a requirement, not an endorsement for companionship.
“You know what your problem is, Thornbird? You always underestimated your place. A rich dude pretending to be one of the guys, dare I say normal?”
“What’s wrong with normal?” Jax asked.
“It’s overrated. Life goes much easier if you stay right where you belong, breeds less resentment. Face it, Thornbird, you spend more time trying to fit in than actually doing your job, which I’m guessing you were probably good at.”
A pair of giggling joggers made their way past them more than once. The third time would be the charm. his time was up.
Not immune to the flattery of female admiration, Jax realized they both had their fair share just sitting on the bench. Odds told him those women would stop to speak to them, and he couldn’t afford the attention.
Army wore his rich boy arrogance with
“Internal Affairs wanted me to turn snitch on my captain. He’s been dabbling in a bit of everything for some time now, but they can’t catch him. If I come up with something solid, then they will kick my inquiry,” Jax admitted, setting all of his cards on the table.
“Damned if you do and damned if you don’t. Sounds like your career is over, Thornbird. Maybe you should hop onto one of your daddy’s yachts and sail out of here until the heat dies down.”
“I need you to trace the serial number off this gun.” He turned over his iPhone, which held a copy of the evidence from his wrongful shooting. For days, he’d used burner phones to keep in contact with the most essential people.
“You mean the weapon they can’t find?” Army took the cell and slipped it into his coat pocket. He pulled a ball out of the same pocket then let his dog off the leash.
“The gun is from evidence. I need the name of who checked it out.” The retriever ran across the park to grab the ball Army had tossed and returned with her treasure.
“What if someone stole it from evidence,” Army said. “Then what will you have to go on?”
“Is there any way you can access the vault’s footage from downtown?”
“Legally?”
“No,” he said. “Just tell me who took it. No warrants needed.”
“Your ex-partner, Sherman Jones.”
Jax wasn’t surprised Army came back with an answer so quickly. Army would never have put his future in jeopardy by helping a fugitive.
“This morning I caught a call from dispatch. A shooting in Sherman’s building. Did Sherman—”
“Yep, your ex-partner has been admitted into intensive care, prognosis critical,” Army relayed in a dry, emotionless manner, as if he were reading a menu.
He couldn’t be too upset by the fed’s demeanor. Army wasn’t friends with Sherman or his family, but Jax was, and he felt crummy.
“Do you think he helped set you up?”
“No,” he confessed. “Sherman probably saw something and that’s what got him hurt.”
Couples with babies strolled through the park. People with pets walked across the grass to enjoy the peaceful fall afternoon. Meanwhile, his life continued to turn upside down.
“Ten minutes, Thornbird,” Army said, reminding him of the small amount of time remaining to plead his case.
“I want to clear my name.”
“For what? Your career in Homicide is finished.” Army threw the toy up and down, testing his animal’s self-control. “Even if we cleared you, you’re untouchable with the I.A. thing hanging over your head. Like I said, take a vacation.” He chucked the ball, allowing the retriever to break free and chase after it.
“Everyone will think my family influences got me off. I worked too hard for that to happen.”
The dog trotted back with the toy in her mouth and dropped it at her master’s feet without encouragement. She watched him intently, waiting for a kernel of attention.
Army had always been a control freak. The complete and utter devotion of his pet was a requirement, not an endorsement for companionship.
“You know what your problem is, Thornbird? You always underestimated your place. A rich dude pretending to be one of the guys, dare I say normal?”
“What’s wrong with normal?” Jax asked.
“It’s overrated. Life goes much easier if you stay right where you belong, breeds less resentment. Face it, Thornbird, you spend more time trying to fit in than actually doing your job, which I’m guessing you were probably good at.”
A pair of giggling joggers made their way past them more than once. The third time would be the charm. his time was up.
Not immune to the flattery of female admiration, Jax realized they both had their fair share just sitting on the bench. Odds told him those women would stop to speak to them, and he couldn’t afford the attention.
Army wore his rich boy arrogance with
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