Deserves to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

“Today?”

“Probably in the summer,” she said.

Alvarez was looking through the passenger window. She nodded as if she’d expected this conversation. “You sure that’s what you want?”

“My kids need me.”

“Okay, but they’re nearly grown.”

“Then there’s Santana.”

“You’re marrying him. Is that a reason to be semiretired? You’re not even forty, for God’s sake.”

“I’m not talking retirement. Just cutting back a little.”

“What’re you going to do? Take up knitting? Join a wine club? Try out new Crock-Pot recipes?”

“Give me a break.”

“Then what? Racquetball? Save mankind by joining some cause for world peace?”

Pescoli actually laughed. “Yeah, that’s it.”

“You’d miss it. Whether you know it or not, Pescoli, you live for this. Being a cop’s in your blood.”

“Now you sound like some B movie from the seventies.”

“I’m serious, damn it.”

“So that’s it? You think we’re destined to be together, riding in these Jeeps in the snow and ice, chasing bad guys, risking our lives and bowing to the likes of Hooper Blackwater?” She finally took a sip of her latte and scowled. “Jesus! People really drink this stuff?” The milky-sweet coffee hit her stomach and seemed to curdle. Dropping the cup back into its holder she added, “I don’t need working eighty hours plus some weeks in my life.”

Alvarez sent her a sharp look. “This is all about Blackwater and we both know it.” When Pescoli didn’t respond, she added tautly, “I don’t like the new sheriff either, but he’s what we’re stuck with. For now. You’re not the only one missing Dan Grayson.”

Pescoli should have left it alone, but she was too raw, too bothered. “Yeah, well, I didn’t fancy myself in love with him, either,” she snapped and saw her partner’s lips tighten. “What the hell was that all about?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, come on.” She hit the gas and sped around a tractor inching down the highway, the driver huddled against the elements in a thick jacket and hat with ear flaps. “Jesus. Why the hell would you pull your John Deere out in this weather?” she grumbled.

Alvarez, obviously stung, didn’t answer. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and turned her attention to her e-mail and texts, scanning them quickly “Got reports from the O’Halleran neighbors. The Zukovs, Ed and Tilly, who live on one side of the O’Halleran spread. They told the deputy they saw nothing, were inside all day because of the blizzard.”

“Smart.”

“Same with the Foxxes, who are on the other side of the Zukovs. The husband ventured out to his barn, but took care of his cattle and that was it. Haven’t heard from the ranch across the road or the one on the other side of the O’Hallerans yet.” She tucked her phone into her pocket.

“I’m thinking whoever did it came in from the back,” Pescoli said.

“A team checked the nearest access road.”

“Tracks?” She felt a little ray of hope.

“Some. Maybe hunters.”

“In this?” Pescoli said, staring out the windshield.

“Or cross-country skiers or snowshoers. People don’t necessarily stay inside just because it’s cold or snowing.”

“Then they’re idiots.”