Port City Crossfire by Gerry Boyle

Author:Gerry Boyle [Boyle, Gerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-64457-054-8
Amazon: B07SQNQM8B
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2019-08-06T00:00:00+00:00

He stood at the corner of Commercial and Pearl, looked up and down the street. A few early bird cruise ship passengers were doing the same, holding maps in front of them. Brandon waited, saw Kat’s black Jeep approach. She pulled up like an Uber driver and he got in. Kat was in yoga pants, running shoes, a T-shirt that said Team Glock.

“I’d say coffee but maybe not,” Kat said.

“Low profile,” Brandon said.

“I like your preppy slacker disguise.”

“Thanks. Should I have worn a suit and tie?”

“No,” Kat said. “It’s not like you’re going to court.”

He looked at her.

“Much,” she said.

She drove down Commercial, swung up onto the Eastern Prom. They passed Munjoy Street, and Brandon pictured Mia, making coffee, cleaning the apartment. That made him think of her father and he said, “Think I should have my own lawyer there?”

“Carew will be there for you. So not yet. Not for this.”

“Soon?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I could lose the boat,” Brandon said.

“We can only hope,” Kat said. She looked at him and smiled.

They parked by the ramp, looked out. The boats were all pointing southeast, into the wind. A couple was struggling to keep their kayaks from being blown around. The trip out of the harbor was going to be rougher.

“So here we are,” Brandon said.

“You’ll be fine. Just tell the truth. The whole truth.”

“I always do,” Brandon said. “The one thing my grandmother taught me that stuck. That and how to make her a Manhattan.”

“I thought she drank wine,” Kat said.

“Only before five. A couple of stiff Manhattans for the big finish.”

“You miss her?”

“I’m glad she’s missing all of this,” Brandon said.

“She’d be on your team. Speaking of which...”

Brandon watched the kayakers. The guy was fifty feet ahead of the woman, who was still struggling.

“The mayor.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I heard she wants Garcia to come down on you hard on the body cam.”

“Body cam doesn’t change the shoot,” Brandon said.

“Halsey pushed for the things. You didn’t use it. It’s like you were dissing her.”

“I forgot.”

“I know.”

They sat. The guy in the kayak had turned back, almost flipped coming around. Brandon didn’t feel like saving him, leave it to Kat the triathloner. He didn’t feel like saving anyone. He was done.

“There’s a lot of pressure on her. That comes down on Garcia.”

“I know. You should see my phone. Estusa put my cell number online.”

“That little weasel.”

“Yup.”

“You know it’s got very little to do with you and Rawlings,” Kat said. “It’s like you’re the scapegoat for all of the shootings all over the country.”

“Timing is everything,” Brandon said.

“Plus the failure to report the Shakespeare thing.”

“I know.”

“Lay it all out there. You had good intentions. You’re a good cop.”

“What’s the line? When bad things happen to good people?”

“A reprimand, maybe. Thirty days suspension,” Kat said.

“What happens to the bad cops?” Brandon said.

“Like Dever, always the last one in? Three guys pounding you and it’s ‘Where’s Dever?’ He was just here? That coward. People like him, they skate. Until they don’t.”

The kayakers were both running past the boat ramp, the wind blowing them upriver toward Back Bay.

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