regaining consciousness.
“What the —?” Nugent appeared at her shoulder.
Turning, she spoke to Nugent, keeping her hands clamped on the unconscious man’s wrists. “This must be your suspect.”
“We were so tied up with the victim, I never . . .”
“Could happen to anyone. Just make sure the medics get in here.”
“They’re on the way.”
“Great. Seen my partner?”
Nugent shook his head. Just then the medics arrived. Brinna apprised them of the situation and moved out of the bathroom to let them do their job.
She lassoed her anger and walked out to the car to get some antibiotic wipes from her kit. There’d been no time to put gloves on, and she had the creep’s blood on her hands. Where in the world was O’Reilly?
18
WHEN JACK AND BRINNA had reached the apartment and she told him to go talk to witnesses, he did.
It was the one thing Jack was sure of. He wasn’t going to follow Caruso around like a puppy.
Jack approached an elderly couple. “Hi, did you two see what happened?”
The woman nodded. “Will Adrienne be okay?”
“Uh, I don’t know. She’s on her way to the hospital.” He pulled out a brand-new pocket notebook, the leather cover stiff in his hands. He plucked the pen from his shirt pocket and promptly dropped it on the ground. As he bent to pick it up, he fought the uncomfortable feeling of being out of practice. When he looked back at the couple, he realized they didn’t seem to notice. Their faces were a study in concern for the victim. And when they looked at him, he saw trust in their eyes.
He took a deep breath and wrote down their names and other pertinent information, the routine of getting the basics helping his confidence to return.
“So you know the victim and the suspect?”
“Adrienne, yes. Not her boyfriend. He keeps to himself, generally quiet, except when he drinks.” The woman gave a disapproving shake of her head, and her husband took over.
“When he drinks, he’s crazy. But there’s no excuse to hit a woman.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know what they was fighting about, but we heard them yelling.” She looked at her husband, and he nodded. “I could tell he was drunk because that’s the only time you know he’s here. Then I heard her scream and the door slam.” She pointed to their apartment, which was two doors down from the victim’s. “I looked out the window and saw Adrienne running, and all of a sudden her boyfriend tackled her. He was beating her with something.”
“I called 911,” the man said. “I’m too old to go running around breaking up fights.”
“Officer! Officer!”
Jack turned as another man approached him. “Yes?”
“My wife knows something, but she don’t want to come outside. She don’t want to see the blood.” He pointed to the apartment next door to the elderly couple. “Can you talk to her in there?”
“Sure.” Jack took a few seconds to be certain he had the elderly couple’s information correct; then he followed the other resident into his apartment. There he talked to a sobbing woman who basically told him what the elderly couple had. By the time he finished, he’d begun to feel as though he had his sea legs back. Police work was mostly talking topeople, making observations, and recording the observations of others. He did it in homicide and now he was doing it in patrol.
When he finished and stepped out into the courtyard again, he saw everyone rushing into the apartment where he’d left Caruso.
What had happened? He realized he’d turned his radio down. And all the indecision and uneasiness he’d felt before returned in a tidal wave. The deck was tossing and turning, and he had no balance.
* * *
Brinna was cleaning her hands with some wipes when the patrol sergeant pulled up behind her unit.
“What happened, Caruso?” Sergeant Klein asked.
Sighing heavily, she told him.
“Where’s O’Reilly now?”
Brinna shrugged.
Nugent found them at the curb. He
“What the —?” Nugent appeared at her shoulder.
Turning, she spoke to Nugent, keeping her hands clamped on the unconscious man’s wrists. “This must be your suspect.”
“We were so tied up with the victim, I never . . .”
“Could happen to anyone. Just make sure the medics get in here.”
“They’re on the way.”
“Great. Seen my partner?”
Nugent shook his head. Just then the medics arrived. Brinna apprised them of the situation and moved out of the bathroom to let them do their job.
She lassoed her anger and walked out to the car to get some antibiotic wipes from her kit. There’d been no time to put gloves on, and she had the creep’s blood on her hands. Where in the world was O’Reilly?
18
WHEN JACK AND BRINNA had reached the apartment and she told him to go talk to witnesses, he did.
It was the one thing Jack was sure of. He wasn’t going to follow Caruso around like a puppy.
Jack approached an elderly couple. “Hi, did you two see what happened?”
The woman nodded. “Will Adrienne be okay?”
“Uh, I don’t know. She’s on her way to the hospital.” He pulled out a brand-new pocket notebook, the leather cover stiff in his hands. He plucked the pen from his shirt pocket and promptly dropped it on the ground. As he bent to pick it up, he fought the uncomfortable feeling of being out of practice. When he looked back at the couple, he realized they didn’t seem to notice. Their faces were a study in concern for the victim. And when they looked at him, he saw trust in their eyes.
He took a deep breath and wrote down their names and other pertinent information, the routine of getting the basics helping his confidence to return.
“So you know the victim and the suspect?”
“Adrienne, yes. Not her boyfriend. He keeps to himself, generally quiet, except when he drinks.” The woman gave a disapproving shake of her head, and her husband took over.
“When he drinks, he’s crazy. But there’s no excuse to hit a woman.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know what they was fighting about, but we heard them yelling.” She looked at her husband, and he nodded. “I could tell he was drunk because that’s the only time you know he’s here. Then I heard her scream and the door slam.” She pointed to their apartment, which was two doors down from the victim’s. “I looked out the window and saw Adrienne running, and all of a sudden her boyfriend tackled her. He was beating her with something.”
“I called 911,” the man said. “I’m too old to go running around breaking up fights.”
“Officer! Officer!”
Jack turned as another man approached him. “Yes?”
“My wife knows something, but she don’t want to come outside. She don’t want to see the blood.” He pointed to the apartment next door to the elderly couple. “Can you talk to her in there?”
“Sure.” Jack took a few seconds to be certain he had the elderly couple’s information correct; then he followed the other resident into his apartment. There he talked to a sobbing woman who basically told him what the elderly couple had. By the time he finished, he’d begun to feel as though he had his sea legs back. Police work was mostly talking topeople, making observations, and recording the observations of others. He did it in homicide and now he was doing it in patrol.
When he finished and stepped out into the courtyard again, he saw everyone rushing into the apartment where he’d left Caruso.
What had happened? He realized he’d turned his radio down. And all the indecision and uneasiness he’d felt before returned in a tidal wave. The deck was tossing and turning, and he had no balance.
* * *
Brinna was cleaning her hands with some wipes when the patrol sergeant pulled up behind her unit.
“What happened, Caruso?” Sergeant Klein asked.
Sighing heavily, she told him.
“Where’s O’Reilly now?”
Brinna shrugged.
Nugent found them at the curb. He
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