Over the Line by Tracey Richardson

Author:Tracey Richardson [Richardson, Tracey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781562802028
Amazon: 156280202X
Goodreads: 2857850
Publisher: Naiad Pr
Published: 1998-01-01T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Stevie rubbed her tired eyes and hovered just inside the door of the women’s locker room at the Shelton police station. She was in no mood for the twelve-hour day shift that lay ahead.

The night had been a restless one; sleep was meager and hadn’t come easily. Once, staring groggily out the window, she thought she saw a cop car again creeping slowly past. It irritated her that she was being watched. Was it just her coworkers being nosy about the newest cop in town? Or were they keeping her under surveillance?

Sue Jackson, just finishing her night shift, plucked the clip from her pistol.

“Hi,” Stevie said, joining Jackson at her locker. “How was the night shift?”

“Nice and quiet for a change.”

Stevie nodded sharply. Quiet enough for someone to keep an eye on me all night?

“Oh, Sarah. I heard they’re pulling Mercer off my shift.” Her grin exuded relief. “Bad news is, you get to have him on yours.”

Stevie shrugged to herself. Bring the bastard on. She could handle whatever he wanted to dish out.

Jackson lined her gun sight on the far wall, squinting in concentration. “Goddamn thing seems to be off. Want to come out target shooting with me some time?”

Stevie shrugged. What the hell. Target shooting was fun, and it’d been months since she’d done it. Besides, Jackson couldn’t misconstrue something work-related as a date. “Sure. The department have a range somewhere?”

Jackson smirked. “This place? No way, too cheap. Some of the guys’ve got some sweet deal with Bradley Alsop, but no such luck for the rest of us.”

Stevie leaned against a locker, fingers hooked around her belt loops, the picture of nonchalance. “Who’s Bradley Alsop?”

“Rich dude in town. Actually, he owns half the bloody city.” Her tone was bitter. “Lives in a big mansion on about a hundred acres just outside of town. Has both an indoor and an outdoor range — so I’ve heard.”

“So what’s this deal some of the guys have?”

Jackson stowed her gun in her locker, her back momentarily to Stevie. “Not that they’d confide in me, mind you. But some of them are pretty thick with Alsop. They go shooting there, hang out with him, and he contributes nicely to our Christmas party.”

Stevie distractedly massaged her temple. She’d never heard of such a partnership between a large segment of a police force and a private citizen. Collaborations like that were usually frowned upon because of the potential for abuse and favoritism. Did the Shelton brass know about this? Surely they must, if Sue Jackson was aware of it. And who was this Bradley Alsop, and why was he such a cop groupie? Could this be who owned more than half the cops in Shelton, if Jocelyn Travers’s anonymous tipper was right? What was he getting in return for providing a firing range and contributing to the Christmas party?

Stevie kept her questions to herself, unwilling to trust anyone right now. She opened her locker, stared blurrily at nothing as she felt an invisible weight on her shoulders.

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