His Risk to Take (Line of Duty 2)

Troy turned the corner leading to his desk on a brisk heel, nodding curtly at a passing Emergency Services member he’d met last week. Wisely, the man didn’t try to engage him in conversation. He pulled open the door of the main command area, which housed several desks and offices occupied by higher-ranking officers. The usually noisy room felt still, quieter than usual. Normally, loud phone conversations took place, interspersed with the occasional insult or ribbing of another officer. As Emergency Services occupied this part of the station, he was surprised to see detectives and officers from other departments huddled around various desks, talking rapidly.

Brent appeared to his right, holding a cup of coffee. His usual, easy smile had been replaced by a grim expression.

“What’s going on?”

“One of our ESU guys was found beaten last night. Adam Tenney. Not sure if you’ve met him.” Troy gave a single, curt nod of his head. “Guy’s in a freaking coma. He’s got a wife. Kids. We’re trying to figure out what the hell happened.”

Brent’s words hit way too close to home for Troy’s comfort. “Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

He cleared his suddenly dry throat, trying to maintain focus. “Did he put somebody away that was recently released?”

Brent shrugged one shoulder. “We just heard the news, so everyone is still scrambling. I’m sure they’re going to send us all out in different directions any minute now, so be ready to roll.”

“I’m ready.”

Brent walked away then, leaving Troy stewing in silence. He didn’t know the injured detective very well, but it didn’t matter. The situation felt too familiar.

Involuntary images of Grant’s wife and kids crying at his funeral months earlier flashed through his mind.

His chest constricted painfully. He was saved from his dark thoughts when Lieutenant Rhodes called his name from across the station, gesturing for him to enter his office. Pushing aside the fog of his memories, Troy headed in and took a seat.

Rhodes took no time getting to the point, a trait that reminded him of his former lieutenant, Derek Tyler, back in Chicago. “Listen, Bennett. You came with a glowing recommendation from Chicago. They said you weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty.”

“That’s right.” At least, he hadn’t been at one time. His first few years on the force, he’d quickly gained a reputation for being fearless when pursuing criminals, without sacrificing careful planning and execution. Having found a daredevil in his partner, Grant, they’d gained the respect of their colleagues and moved up through the ranks, being placed on an elite detective squad focused on regulating the gang wars taking place in Chicago’s worst neighborhoods.

They’d jumped in head first, never backing away from a single dangerous situation. Troy always provided the plan and kept Grant reigned in as much as possible.

They’d balanced each other perfectly. Until the night it all came crashing down.

“Good. I’ve got a lead I need you to run down.”

The lieutenant blew out a heavy breath. “I received an anonymous tip claiming Officer Tenney had gotten into some financial trouble, possibly taken a loan from a man named Lenny Driscol. If you’d been in New York a little longer, you would have heard about Driscol by now. A real jack-of-all-trades type. Loansharking, bookmaking, you name it. I thought Tenney would’ve known better.”

Troy absorbed the information. “You want me to question Driscol. You think he’s responsible for Tenney ending up in the hospital?”

“I don’t want to think that, believe me. But they found Tenney’s body in the Brooklyn Navy Yards early this morning, right at the edge of Driscol’s turf.

It can’t be a coincidence.” He gestured down to the case file open on his desk. “It’s probable that Driscol didn’t realize Tenney is a badge. Tenney would’ve kept his identity hidden.”

“That only increases the probability that Driscol had something to do with it.” Troy stood up from his seat. “Where can I find him?”

…

Ruby gathered her notebook and pens as the professor wrapped up his lecture. Around her, fellow students followed suit, eager to escape the confines of the windowless room after the two-hour class. Even she, who normally soaked up every word and took detailed notes, felt restless and edgy. As she had for the previous two days since leaving Troy sleeping in bed.

She’d woken with a jolt around four o’clock in the morning, momentarily forgetting why she’d fallen asleep somewhere besides her own tiny twin bed. Wondering whose arms were wrapped tightly around her. The memories had bombarded her all at once, sending a hot flush racing over her skin. Troy’s mouth, his promises and commands, the things he’d made her beg for. Lying there, she’d waited for the embarrassment to come. But it hadn’t. Only the desire for more. And that’s when she knew she had to get out of there. She didn’t recognize herself around him. Going home with a stranger, a cop, was unlike her in itself. Throw in the way she’d walked out of his bathroom naked and her shameful begging and you had someone she barely knew.

Ruby Elliott didn’t beg.

So why did the thought of doing it all over again leave her breathless?

Over the weekend, she’d waited for the sharp longing for Troy to fade, but it only grew stronger every day she stayed away. She didn’t want to anymore.

As soon as she left class, she’d go find him. It wasn’t as though she’d left him a way to reach her, so if they were going to see each other again, the ball was in her court. With Troy, that was how she wanted it. She’d relinquished too much control to him on Friday night, but by leaving and reappearing at will, she hoped to take a little bit of it back. She’d check O’Hanlon’s first, maybe rake in a few bucks on the pool table while she waited. If he didn’t show, maybe she’d pop by his apartment real casual-like. Pretend she’d left behind a scrunchie.

What makes you think he’s still interested? Ruby gave her subconscious a mental one-finger salute. He’d implied there would be a next time more than once, right? So why were her nerves suddenly getting the best of her? Damn him for making her second-guess herself. Something she never did.

Deciding that if the worst possible outcome was rejection, she could live with it, Ruby stood and walked out of class, avoiding eye contact and conversation with the other students who stood in groups making plans to grab coffee together. At twenty-five, she was only older than them by a few years, but the chasm felt much, much wider. After high school, she’d spent the years wherein she would have attended college on the road. She’d only recently started making up for lost time.

The second she stepped outside the room, someone draped an arm across her shoulders, pulling her into their side. Reflexively, she jammed her elbow into the unknown person’s stomach, hearing a satisfying oompf for her efforts.

“God. What the fuck, Ruby Tuesday?”

She reared back. “Bowen?”

His hands dropped to his knees as he tried to regain his breath, his dark blond hair sticking out from under a baseball cap. “In the flesh.”

Glancing around, she lowered her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, thought I’d take a pottery class, you know, just to broaden my horizons a little.” Ruby tilted her head at him skeptically as he straightened. “Why do you think I’m here? I came to see you.”

“What for?”

“Damn. Thaw out a little, ice princess.”

She sighed through a smile in spite of her irritation.

Bowen, her childhood friend and all-around goofball, tended to deflate her anger quite easily. “I’m sorry. It’s just, the last few times you’ve come to see me, it’s been to convince me to come back to work for your father.

And as I told you before, I’m not interested.”

He made a sound of acknowledgment, turning his head to check out two of her female classmates. When they looked over, he winked, sending them into a fit of giggles. Bowen had that effect on the opposite se

x. “I know. I know. You’re on the straight and narrow now. You used to be fun, Rubik’s Cube.”

“Can you settle on a nickname at some point?”

“Rubella. Righteous Ruby. Barney Rube-el.”

“Don’t turn my name into a disease, and that last one didn’t even work.” She sniffed. “Righteous Ruby we can talk about.” Heading toward the building exit, she gave Bowen no choice but to follow her. “So what’s your father’s offer this time? Let me guess, he’s gotten word of a cash game in Jersey he needs me for. Why didn’t he just come see me himself, as usual?”

Bowen looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

“He’s lying low at the moment. Waiting for a little trouble to pass.”

She stopped him with a finger to her lips. “I don’t even want to know. I’m not interested in hearing about any trouble, and I’m not interested in any games he wants to arrange so he can take a cut of my winnings.”

Ruby scrutinized his expression. “Just tell me you didn’t have anything to do with it.”