Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“Damn, don’t think she got the message,” he groans, throwing his pen across the desk and leaning back casually.
I do the same, ready for whatever heat she’s packing.
“Mr. Powers, I assume since you’re here that you are fully aware of how to read a schedule.” She frowns at me.
“Yep.”
“Then I suspect you knew we had an appointment thirty minutes ago.”
“Nope.”
She hitches a hand on her hip, her eyes narrowing. “Nope?”
“Nope,” I repeat, scrolling thru the calendar on my phone. “We rescheduled for this afternoon with Ace.”
Her narrowed eyes grow wide, and she shakes her head. “We certainly did not. This isn’t the local Boy Scout meeting where you bring a friend.”
I open my mouth to answer, but she keeps going. “Your position on this force and career is literally in my hands. The arrogant attitude and smug disposition aren’t impressive. Do you understand the importance of my approval and sign-off on your return to active duty?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
A rush of heat flares on her face, reaching all the way to her ears, and Ace sits up. “Dr. Welch, we were told our request to meet with you was approved.”
There’s a slow hiss followed by a throat clearing. My attention spans across the room where Captain Boyd and Hal are leaning against a wall with self-satisfied smiles.
“Sons of bitches,” I mumble, knowing they are the reason our request wasn’t relayed.
Dr. Welch catches on. “Always the damn jokers,” she yells, her glare turning severe at the same time her lips curve into an evil smirk. “I’m glad I renegotiated my rates to reflect negligence.”
Their grins die and she whips her attention back to us. “You have one shot. Give me a reason to let you have your evaluation together.”
“We went through our ordeal together, like we always do. We’re brothers.” I shrug, not sure what else matters.
There’s a flash of understanding and she leans in, her eyes again darting between us.
“You have ten minutes to close out your day, get your shit, and report to my office. Trust me on this, you want this evaluation to happen today.” For a split-second, her face softens before her mask of irritation clicks back into place. “Don’t be late.”
She weaves back through the squad room, punching the elevator button roughly. When it opens, she steps inside and spins, her eyes now lit brightly. “Payback is a bitch, Peewee. Remember who you’re playing with.”
The doors shut and all heads swing to Captain Boyd, whose face is stone.
“Peewee?” Ace speaks up so all can hear, his voice laced with humor.
“Shut the hell up, Kingston.”
“I gotta say, Peewee doesn’t seem to fit.” I do a forward-rounded sweeping motion over my abdomen.
Hal coughs to cover his laugh and the Captain’s face twists.
Captain Boyd is in shape. He’s a mountain of a man who can lay shame to some men in the weight room. We’ve witnessed it several times. But we take every chance we can to rouse the old man.
“You’re on traffic reports the rest of shift,” he barks, pointing between Ace and me.
We stand, switch off our computers, and grab our guns.
“Doc Welch fit us in, told us to close out the day.” I flick a wave in his direction and follow Ace to the stairwell.
“Cocky asses are mine when you get back next wee—” the door cuts Boyd’s yell off, slamming as we jog up the stairs.
When we get to the third floor, Dr. Welch is in the hallway watching the door. She looks at her watch and nods approvingly. “Nice hustle. Figured my parting shot may help get you moving.”
She gestures to the open door, and we follow her into an office that looks entirely out of place compared to most other areas in this building.
“Have a seat, gents,” she chirps, shutting the door and waving around the room. “Take your pick, sofa, chair, lounger, whatever makes you comfortable.”
Ace’s eyes catch mine, his expression clear to read. We remain standing.
“You can ditch the apprehension. This will be a lot easier, quicker, and painless if you cooperate.” She swooshes by us, plopping into an oversized chair.
Her entire attitude is a one-eighty from the woman that stormed in ready to bust our balls less than ten minutes ago.
Neither of us moves.
“Really?” Her hands fly in the air. “I just outed my Uncle Peewee, which puts a target on my back.”
I rock back, not expecting that piece of information. “Boyd is your uncle?”
“Yes.”
“Where’d Peewee come from? He’s not what I’d consider Peewee.”
“He’s the baby of the family. That’s his nickname.”
“Peewee,” I repeat, picturing the man who can scare the shit out of a suspect with a glare and a grunt.
“You work for your uncle? Aren’t there rules about nepotism?” Ace questions.
“There may be, but I don’t work for him. I own my business and contract with the department.”
“I thought you were the designated shrink.”