Untold Damage by Robert K. Lewis Page B

he couldn’t do anything that would maybe, even slightly, hurt Oberon.
    The cop stared at him for a moment, then back down at the gun. “And you’re just keeping it in your coat pocket for safe keeping? Is that what you’re telling me?”
    â€œThis just happened. I haven’t had a chance to find a safe place for it.”
    Oberon dumped the coat on the couch. “I know a very safe place for it.” Checked it for bullets. Whistled softly. “And fully loaded, too. How joyful.”
    â€œLook, just trust me on this one, okay? I’m just trying to … help out a certain man who is now not among the living. That’s all.”
    â€œAh!” Oberon responded. “You mean like when I helped you to the extent that I risked my pension to have you put in the drunk tank so you could clean the junk out of your veins? You mean like that?”
    He looked Oberon dead in the eye as he said, “Yeah. Just like that. Trust me on this one, okay? I won’t let you down, Oberon. I won’t.”
    There was an uncomfortable silence as both men looked at each other, trying to gauge what the other one would do if things ran one way or another. After a long moment, Oberon came over. Handed the gun to him. “I’m trusting you, Mark, more than I’ve ever trusted another human being in my life. If that gun comes onto my radar again, especially if it was used in a crime, I will fall on you like the devil himself. Are we clear?”
    â€œCompletely.”
    â€œIf Mother Mallen could see me now,” Oberon said as he shook his head and went to the door, “she’d have my hide for letting you keep that thing. Don’t make me regret it, Mark.”

Thirteen
    â€œYou’re making me regret this, Mark,” Chris said quietly as she stirred the cup of coffee in front of her. “Can’t you go back to regular police work?”
    They sat in the diner that belonged to the Seal Rock Inn, a small motel way out at the west end of the city, overlooking the Pacific. They sat huddled together at a small table, the one farthest away from the windows. The meeting place had been his call, one he’d made on the fly. It wasn’t great, and he couldn’t be seen being here for long, not in this place, not with a woman who was so obviously not a hooker or a pusher. But she’d sent the text, using the code they’d together set up before he went underground. She’d sent him the code that meant it was desperate, and he’d texted back to meet at the first place he could think of that would be safe, using the least amount of time.
    â€œLook,” he told her, “I’m close now. I’m moving up the chain. I’m close.”
    She shook her head. “When you said you wanted to be cop? Back after college? I thought you’d be in homicide or something, capturing murderers. Maybe even moving up, getting promoted, so you wouldn’t even be out on the streets with all the crazy, dangerous people.”
    â€œI know,” he answered. “But to get to that, I need to make a case for myself and my abilities. That’s this work, Chris, the work I’m doing now.” He sat back. Looked out the windows at the ocean. What he wouldn’t give then to just be on a boat with her and Anna, sailing away to a new life.
    â€œWhat if something happens to you? What if something happens to Anna, and I can’t reach you?” She shook her head. Took a sip of her coffee. “It’s too dangerous. I’m not sure I’m cut out for you being on this duty.”
    â€œCome on,” he said, reaching out and stroking her hair, “you know that even if I agreed with what you were saying, you know it wouldn’t be right away, right? I just can’t … disappear. And do you think Stevens, or the guys above that fucker would let me just walk away? Now? I can’t, Chris.” He took her hand. Held it to his chest.