Trixsters Anonymous

His lips twitch as he cuts his eyes to Oliver. “I heard you’ve been volunteering your services to the fine citizens of the city, especially the pretty ones.”

Fuck, this is the last thing I need. “What are you getting at?”

“I had it covered, Walker. Emi was on my list today,” Oliver tells me.

“Well, lucky for you, I freed up some of your time.”

Oliver starts to argue, but Captain Corny cuts him off, throwing up a hand. “What did you find out?”

“She was right. Carlton was pissed. I called the owner of the bar, and he reviewed the security camera footage from that night. Carlton stumbled out of the bar, piss-ass drunk, and keyed the shit out of Emerson’s car. He took great time in etching profanities on her door, then pissed all over the vehicle. Before he could get out of view, he also fell to his knees and vomited everywhere. Then it shows him crawling away to a waiting cab.”

Oliver and Captain’s faces twist in disgust.

“I visited Mr. Breen this morning at work and kindly explained that unless he wanted the tape to become public and Miss Baker to press charges, he’d pay for all damages. He agreed.”

“Somehow, I don’t think it was that easy,” Oliver guesses.

“Not at first, but I helped him see reason. I left with a check and dropped it by the body shop on my way in.”

“Detective work at its finest,” Captain remarks with a wink.

Oliver blows out a breath and looks at me with disappointment. “I wish I could have been there. I’ve wanted to see that asshole squirm for a long time.”

“Asshole is being generous.”

“Shit, boys, everyone has wanted to see that asshole wriggle. Scott has singlehandedly stolen the thunder of half this precinct.” Captain pats me on the shoulder.

“I should have taken Emi more seriously,” Oliver’s says regretfully.

“Maybe.” I shrug.

“She’s a bit dramatic,” he tries to explain.

“She told me you think that.”

“Son, have you ever been around Emi Baker for more than five minutes? Everyone thinks that. She’s gone through more stages than anyone can keep up with. The girl is a spitfire! Her mama’s had a running prayer circle for her since she was eighteen,” Captain howls, a few of the men around laughing with him. “Last year alone, I had three complaints from her.”

“Don’t forget the time she insisted on getting her girlfriends home after the karaoke contest,” Oliver adds.

“What happened with her girlfriends?” I ask, regretting it when his lips start to twitch.

“They were all tipsy, and she wanted to wait for an Uber. There was a bar crawl going on that night, and I was on duty. Fights were breaking out all over the place from too much alcohol and testosterone. I told her to get her ass in a cab. She refused, arguing loudly and making a scene. I had to threaten cab or cuffs, and she agreed.”

“Like I said, she’s a handful.” Captain nudges Oliver in a knowing way.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” I realize my mistake the instant the words leave my mouth. The laughter stops, and every set of eyes focuses on me.

My statement hangs in the air until Captain starts to shake, bending at the hip and slapping his knee. “Front row seat, boys, front row seat. I think our Walker has met his match.” He walks away, shaking his head while still amused.

I drop my head and wonder what the hell I just did.

Oliver goes to his desk without a word. I don’t have time to process his silence before my phone starts ringing.

“Scott,” I answer on a huff.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Emerson chirps excitedly.

&nbs