Volatile Bonds (Prospero's War #4)

“He already knew,” I said.

That stopped him. “Really? What did he say?”

You’re going to hurt him, Kate.

I huffed out a breath. “Nothing worth repeating.” Time to change the subject. “I forgot to tell you that I asked him about the Chinese.”

“And?”

“He had a meeting with some high-powered Chinese guy right after I left. I saw him but didn’t recognize him.”

“Did Volos say anything about the Fangshi?”

I shrugged. “He claims he hasn’t heard anything about them. Just said there’s some legit Chinese businesses moving into town.”

“Yeah, because that timing’s not suspicious.”

“Right. Might be worth checking out the business section of the newspaper today to see if there’s word of some Chinese outfit moving in.”

“I’ll handle that tonight while you’re on stakeout duty.”

“Sounds good,” I said.

The car was quiet for a few seconds. Then he said, “Are we cool?” He kept his eyes on the road.

“Yeah.”

He nodded.

And that was that. But as much as I wanted to believe our minor tension over Volos was just a blip, the ghost of it lingered between us. And the problem with ghosts is it’s only a matter of time until they get restless and start causing trouble.





Chapter Ten





Being on a stakeout is sort of like taking a really boring road trip. The scenery never changes and you don’t really get anywhere, but at least there are lots of snacks.

That evening, I sat in the beater car with Shadi, surrounded by bags of M&Ms and beef jerky. A good pig-out required a balance of sweet and salty. “It’s a good thing I don’t do this more often or I’d have an ass like a weather balloon,” I said, shoving a handful of pretzels into my face.

Shadi shot me a judgey glance. She did stakeouts all the time, but she managed to have a tight caboose and a midsection you could wash clothes on. While my side of the car looked like I was cramming for finals, her side had a bottle of water and a pack of chewing gum. That’s it.

“I could have handled this alone,” she said.

This was her subtle way of telling me she would have preferred I not be there. Guess my jerky wasn’t the only thing salty in that car. “And miss all this bonding time?” I said. “No way.”

She pressed her lips together and turned to look out the window again.

I’d fully expected to do the stakeout alone that night, but when I showed up, Shadi was already there. She told me she could take the shift and tried to send me home. But I was the only member of the team who hadn’t taken a turn yet, so I refused.

“Hey, Shadi,” I said.

“What?”

“Why’d you stay tonight?”

She shifted in her seat. “Nothin’ better to do.”

I frowned at the back of her head. “Seriously? Literally anything would have been better.”

She sighed and turned to look at me. “My kid’s at my ex’s for the week.”

“So?”

She narrowed her eyes as she weighed her options. Eventually, she realized that I wouldn’t let up and spilled it. “I had to put my mom in a senior center a couple of months ago. House is too damned quiet with them gone.”

I put down my pretzels. “Are you crazy? You’ve got the house to yourself and no responsibility for a week? You should be out living it up.”

“I don’t know. I mean, don’t misunderstand—I can still catch a cat, you know?”

I nodded. Morales had told me all about how Shadi was quite the ladies’ lady.

“But one-night stands lose their appeal after a while. It’s just easier to throw myself into the job. That way, I don’t have to think about going to that lonely house or dealing with some chick blowing up my phone because I didn’t text her the next day.”

I blew out a breath. “Well, hell—I don’t know what to say.” This literally was the longest and most personal conversation I’d ever had with her.

“Don’t say anything at all would be my vote.”

I huffed out a breath and shoved more snacks into my mouth instead of commenting. But after a while, I didn’t like the fact Shadi’s story had made me think about how lonely my house would be in a couple of years. So, I decided to bug her again rather than swim in my own maudlin thoughts.

“How are things working out with Dixon and McGinty?”

She sighed, giving me a chance to redact my question and let her sit in silence. I just waited. The truth was Shadi scared the heck out of me, but she was also fun to mess with.

“They’re fine,” she said, finally. “Dixon’s got lots of potential and he’s good with tech shit. McGinty’s…well, he’s McGinty.” Her tone hinted that she might be having some issues with the veteran cop, but I was torn about whether to push my luck by asking more questions.

After another couple of moments, she said, “The thing is, you can tell he used to be real police, you know? A natural?”

Not wanting to chance saying the wrong thing, I just murmured something vaguely affirmative and nodded.

“But now he’s tired. Like he’s just putting in his time until retirement. Spends most of his days arguing with Dixon and reading the sports page.”

“Does he have enough to do? I mean, he can’t exactly go to the buys like Dixon.”

Dixon’s black skin and youth meant he could go undercover pretty easily. Same went for Shadi. But if McGinty tried to stroll through the Cauldron trying to buy potions, they’d smell the bacon on him in a heartbeat.

“Maybe not. I mean he’s good at planning and shit, but with the cases we’re working, there’s not a lot he can do.” She sighed and looked over. “You and Morales want him?”

“We could probably use some help with tracking stuff down.”

“Really?”

“Sure,” I said. “I’m sure Gardner wouldn’t mind us sharing him as a floater when we need desk work.”

“The thing is,” she said, “I don’t know that that would be a good use for him either. Did you know he used to be homicide?”

“Why did he stop?”

“Some shit went down. That’s my guess, anyway. He doesn’t talk about it. But I figure he must have pissed off the brass. That’s the only way Eldritch would give us anyone, right?”

It was hard to argue with her theory. Since the beginning, Gardner had been fighting with Eldritch for more manpower from the BPD to round out the task force, but he’d resisted and had lots of excuses. Then, a few weeks earlier, he suddenly handed us McGinty, all magnanimous like we were lucky to have him.

“How old is he?” I asked.

“Forty-nine,” she said.

He looked like he was at least a decade older than that. “Past his twenty,” I said.

After twenty years of service, most cops could retire and earn fifty percent of their pension. Lots of unis took that deal and started new careers. Others, who had the option, stayed on because they were able to move up the ranks into brass positions. But McGinty had stayed on despite the lack of promotions.

“His wife left him six years ago and they didn’t have any kids,” Shadi went on. “I think he stayed on because he didn’t have anything else to do.”

“It’s sad. Especially if he’s as talented as you say. Maybe you should talk to Gardner about giving him more challenging assignments.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

We fell silent as we each pondered the possibilities for McGinty. I wasn’t sure about Shadi, but talking about retirement got me thinking about my own future again. I was still a couple of years shy of thirty, so I still had plenty of time before I was eligible to retire. But once Danny went off to start his own life, would I end up alone with nothing outside the work to give me purpose?

“Hey,” Shadi said, cutting into my thoughts, “you seeing the bogey at six o’clock?”

I picked up my binoculars and took a gander. A man was walking around the corner and headed toward the massage parlor. “Asian male, mid-forties?”

“That’s the one. Pretty expensive suit for a man going to a five-dollar hand-job joint.”

“Hold on,” I said, refocusing. “I’ll be damned.”

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