Trigger by David Swinson

Author:David Swinson [Swinson, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery, Thriller
ISBN: 9780316264259
Google: dElfDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07DHKJ59Z
Barnesnoble: B07DHKJ59Z
Goodreads: 40537039
Publisher: Mulholland Books
Published: 2019-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

Forty-One

Rattan rolls in before I’m finished. Calvin came close to polishing his plate. He notices her as she walks toward us, badge hanging around her neck and cradling a case jacket. She’s alone.

“That’s Detective Rattan with Homicide,” I tell him. “She’s the one who called me.”

He looks nervous.

“Have a seat,” I tell her.

She pulls out a chair, gives Calvin the once-over before she sits.

“This is Calvin,” I say. “He’s an associate in training.”

“Okay,” she says with some hesitance, offers her hand to shake. “Detective Rattan.”

Calvin looks at me like he needs permission, then extends his hand and they shake. It’s awkward.

“Just finishing up a late lunch,” I say.

She sets the case jacket on her lap, looks at Calvin again and smiles. Reluctant, but he smiles back.

“Might want to have Calvin look at the photos, too.”

He straightens in his seat, looks at me again with question. Probably should have told him that Rattan was coming. I’m sure his mind is working nervously, maybe thinking about that day he was the driver when Little Monster took out the dirty-as-shit officer and tried to take me out, too.

“This is about the shooting I was telling you about involving the two officers and me,” I tell him.

“Oh yeah. Yeah.”

I can tell she’s hesitant to pull the photos. Just like thugs can make a cop, cops can make a thug. Unfortunately, Calvin still has a bit of thug left in him—or maybe a lot. Hard to wash away that shit, just like it’s hard to wash away the cop left in me.

“You want me to look at those photos now?” I ask.

The waitress interrupts. “Would you like a menu?”

“No, thank you,” Rattan says.

“Anything to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

The waitress leaves. Rattan pulls the eight-by-ten photographs out of her case jacket.

“Not the greatest, but it’s all we have.”

I look at the first image. It’s definitely the angle, catching the driver in the shadows and only the profile. I look at the second one. The primary officer is closer to the window now, the driver’s head turned slightly toward him. Still shadowy and grainy, but better.

“That’s the best one,” she tells me.

I look through the other photos, which include the one of the driver pointing a gun. Totally blurred out because the officer was running backward. I pick up the second photo again. Suspect looks to be in his twenties, maybe younger. So hard to tell. Gaunt face revealing sharp cheekbones. Shadow falls over the top of his head to his nose and chin. Eyes. Fucking dark, dangerous eyes.

“He doesn’t look familiar,” I say. “What about the other officer’s bodycam?”

“Nothing.”

“Can I show this one to Calvin?”

Thinks about it, then says, “Yes.”

I hand it over the table to Calvin. He holds it but doesn’t look at it right away. I know he’s thinking snitch again. After a moment, he looks. His eyebrows rise for a split second.

Did Rattan notice?

It’s like he recognizes him, but I can’t be sure.

“Naw. No. I don’t know this guy. He the one that shot the policeman?”

“He’s one of them,” Rattan says.

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