Page 13 of He Sees You

I check the tracker as I speed across town. Just like I thought, Dove’s going to her usual spot. I’ve timed her before. Both through the app and when I followed her here, watching over her from a distance, keeping her safe from her customers.

The first time I realized she was the seller in this sitch, not an unlikely buyer, I was surprised—then I was intrigued. I like how my deceptively innocent photographer has a dark side, just like I do.

More than that, though, I like how she’s made a bust like this just so fucking easy.

I never went after her before. In fact, I did my best to protect her. In Springfield, the Sinners Syndicate controls the weapons market. The Libellula Family run the drug trade. Their base of operation is on the East End, while the Devil Springfield lords over the West Side.

This part of the downtown area is firmly Sinners turf. So long as she doesn’t flaunt her business, the gangsters will leave her be. If one of the Dragonflies caught her and she didn’t have the trademark tat on her forearm, she’d be a casualty of the local mafias… but I won’t let that happen.

There’s only one thing about Dove I don’t know: why she risks her skin in a city like Springfield to deal without being affiliated with one of the local mafias. She doesn’t touch the shit herself. That, at least, is obvious. Eclipse is stronger than Breeze, and Breeze already is a hopped-up version of Ecstasy with addictive properties that rival heroin. She’d have to be an idiot to dip into her supply, and Dove is no idiot.

Considering how she probably triples her salary by making these trips to the alleyway, pushing Eclipse on a select few customers, I’d say she’s pretty damn smart.

But is that it? Could it be something as simple as money? I’ve got money. Thanks to Burns hooking me up with Devil, I’ve got plenty, and I’m not above buying her love and affection.

Just like I’m not above using my badge to get this woman right where I want her. And if that happens to be under me… well, merry fucking Christmas, Derek.

My badge is pinned to my chest. I purposely brought my service weapon in case the customer got in my way. Breeze addicts are unpredictable. Eclipse? Ten times worse. With a dirty supply they’re dead, but with the good stuff… they think they’re invincible.

Someone high on the junk wouldn’t hesitate to bum-rush a guy, cop or not. If they’re on the way up, they might try to fuck him. On the way down, they might lash out and stab.

Either way, I’m covering my ass—and Dove’s.

I know her selling spot. Parking a block away, I go on foot, clasping my cuffs together so that they don’t give me away. On Christmas Eve, it would be easy to mistake them as sleigh bells, but what if Dove thinks of her jingle bells and gets distracted while facing off with one of her customers?

No. Better to approach quietly, using one hand to silence my cuffs, the other to grab my weapon if necessary.

I make my steps as light as possible. Pausing when I reach the corner that leads into the alleyway, I dare a peek around the side.

First thing I notice is Dove. Obviously. She’s wrapped up in her coat, a tiny baggie full of white crystalline powder clutched between two of her Christmas nails.

My stomach goes tight when I see her customer is a man. About my age and Burns’s height, he’s rocking on his heels, looking like he’s about to lunge forward and grab the baggie from Dove.

That he doesn’t lets me know that I’m dealing with an Eclipse junkie desperate for his next fix. He’s not on the stuff at the moment, but that doesn’t make him any less dangerous.

If he makes any sudden moves, I’ll fucking shoot the guy. And since an officer-involved shooting when the officer is in uniform but not on the clock might be too much for a rookie’s record, I decide to break up this little moment before it gets ugly.

Pulling my gun just in case, I take in a deep breath, then bellow, “Freeze. It’s the police.”

The junkie does a rabbit. I thought he would. He wants his Eclipse, but with his head clear of the potent drug currently, he realizes he could tap another dealer later so long as he’s free. Injail? He’s going cold turkey, and I heard that can be brutal for an Eclipse addict.

So the guy bolts. Dove? Proving that while she’s been occasionally dealing drugs on the side since I’ve been stalking her, she’s not made to be a true criminal, she actually obeys my order. She freezes, barely blinking as I quickly close the gap between us before she can recover.

The gun goes away. I never want to frighten my Dove, and I know I have nothing to fear from her. My naughty dealer is still a good girl deep down. I won’t need to threaten her with my weapon to get what I want.

Not when I have other, morepersuasiveways…

She gulps when I step up to her. “Office, I can explain?—”

I search for a hint of recognition on her pretty face. Her eyes are a little stark, torn between being afraid of what’s going to happen now that I caught her red-handed and desperate to get out of this before she can get into trouble, but that’s about all.

Burns was right again. She doesn’t see Derek. She sees a cop and that’s it.

Fine. For the moment, then, that’s exactly what I’m supposed to be.

“Who do you work for?” I demand.

“It’s my friend,” Dove says, and I expected as much. She might sell the stuff, but you need to be high up in the drug trade to produce an Eclipse that doesn’t kill you. “They’re the one who gave me this.” She closes her fingers around the baggie. “I was helping them out.”

---