Made to Be Broken (Nadia Stafford 2)

"What the fuck do you want, cop?"

The words flew out in a hail of booze-drenched spittle. To someone like Janie, the biggest problem with me wasn't the circumstances surrounding my departure from law enforcement, but the fact that I'd been a cop at all.

"Sammi didn't come to work - "

"And now you're her parole officer?"

"I was concerned because she didn't call. May I speak to her, please?"

"May I speak to her, please?" Janie mimicked.

"Whoa, that's good. Taking insult lessons from third graders, Janie?"

"Bitch."

"What you say is what you are. Oh, wait, what's that other one? 'I'm rubber and you're glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.' "

The door hit my hand. I grabbed the edge, holding it fast as I leaned inside.

"Why don't I just come in and talk to Sammi?"

"You got a warrant, cop?"

She threw her weight against the door, catching me off guard. It hit my nose and I jumped back, eyes watering. The door slammed shut.

I stepped off the crumbling cement slab and tried peering through the front window, but grime as thick as a blackout blind blocked my view. A blare of noise from within made me jump. I stepped closer to the door. Gunfire rang out. The television.

I returned to my pickup. Even with the doors closed, I could still hear Janie's TV. I glanced at the house one last time, but there was no sign of Sammi, so I started the engine and pulled away.

When Sammi came back to work, I'd make sure we worked something out. Sure, she w

as smart-mouthed and resentful, but what did I expect? The kid had been raised by dust bunnies.

The next morning, I came in from helping Owen in the boathouse and found Emma stripping the beds, alone.

"Sammi's not here again?" I said.

She shook her head.

"Did she call?"

Another head shake.

Now this was really bugging me. Sammi had said she didn't want to lose her job, then after we'd come to an agreement on better hours, she stopped showing up - giving me just the excuse I needed to fire her. Something was wrong. Time for another run at Janie.

Chapter Four

Twenty minutes later, I was banging on Janie's front door. I didn't expect her to answer - she wasn't known for getting up before noon. But I was reasonably certain babies didn't sleep that late, so Sammi should have been awake.

"Sammi? If you're in there, open up! We need to talk."

I jumped down to the dirt patch in front of the window, a garden that likely hadn't been a garden in fifty years. I rapped on the dirt-encrusted glass.

"Sammi! It's Nadia. Look, I'm not here to chew you out. I just need to know if you're coming back to work."

Silence. I put my ear to the window, but couldn't hear so much as a baby gurgling. I rapped harder.

Nothing. I stalked back to the pickup. As I was getting in, I heard a soft voice behind me.