Broken Trust (Badge of Honor 13)

“Pretty quiet. I got some strange looks from a couple people who got on the elevator, but nothing I’d call unusual.”

Payne nodded. “Okay. Make yourself comfortable. I might need you in a bit.”

“Yessir.”

—

Payne reached the door to 2150 and knocked.

After a while, he could hear heavy footsteps on the other side of the door. There was a long pause before the sound of the dead bolt being thrown open.

The door swung inward.

“You sorry son of a bitch!” John T. Austin said, his voice booming down the corridor.

Austin cocked his uninjured left arm back, his hand making a fist.

He really thinks he’s going to throw a punch?

“What the hell is your problem?” Payne said, holding his hands up, palms out. “Take it easy.”

“I heard you left the bar with Camilla Rose last night, Payne.”

“Well, you heard wrong.”

“Bullshit.”

Payne looked at him, and thought, I wonder how many other times he’s gotten jealous like this?

Payne saw Austin’s eyes looking past behind him, from where he heard feet fast approaching.

“What’s this? You bring the junior cavalry?” Austin said, putting down his arm.

Payne turned and saw the blue shirt come to a stop five feet from them. He stood erect, hands at his hips, the right hand brushing the black polymer grip of his city-issued 9mm Glock service weapon.

The blue shirt did not say anything. His narrowed eyes, looking past Payne at Austin, and his stance telegraphed his intent.

“As you were,” Payne said in a casual tone. “Mr. Austin, here, was just about to invite me in.”

Payne, surprising Austin, strode past him.

“Yes, I think I will come in,” he said as he did. “Very kind of you to ask.”

Payne heard the blue shirt chuckle.

As Payne entered the living room, he saw on the far couch a well-dressed tanned man with long hair getting to his feet. Payne walked over to him, hand extended, and said, “Matt Payne, Philadelphia Police Homicide.”

“Michael Grosse,” the man said, shaking Payne’s hand.

Grosse motioned with the cocktail glass he held out, and said, “Would you like a drink, or something?”

“Thanks, but no. You’re Camilla Rose’s lawyer.”

“That’s right—”

Austin stormed up to them, putting his face close to Payne’s.

“We weren’t finished, Payne.”