Page 31 of Fighting for Brielle
Brielle wished she could get answers to the mystery ofhimas she pressed against Justice’s back, arms wrapped around his hard torso. She’d gone to the ladies’ room because thinking about kissing the maple syrup off his sexy mouth caused heat to rise in her cheeks, and a rosy hue unfortunately still stained them even after she’d splashed cold water on her face. What was wrong with her? She never blushed. She couldn’t believe Justice noticed and thought she was feverish! She had a fever all right, one raging through her blood due to the closeness between them at the moment. A crazy yearning gripped her. She wanted to lay her cheek against his broad back. But, to her disappointment, her helmet prevented such intimacy.
Within a few minutes, Justice parked the bike in his reserved spot. When they removed their helmets, he perused her face.
“Are you okay? Your color looks normal.”
Brielle nodded as she adjusted her backpack and followed Justice into the station. He greeted the officers on duty with his quiet authority and easy sense of fellowship, taking the time to introduce her. Once he’d been brought up to speed, he led her to his office where they deposited their helmets.
“I want to check to see if there have been any noise complaints or reports of trucks being on the beach after hours,” he said, settling behind his desk.
He opened his laptop and logged on, but then his fingers froze on the keyboard. Color shot into his face.
Justice didn’t say anything, most definitely didn’t want her to know he was struggling, so she moved behind him and looked over his shoulder. In a quiet voice she told him what to type into the system.
“Law enforcement agencies across the U.S. are part of the same network,” Brielle explained. “It saves time while solving cases.”
She helped him sift through complaints going back at least a year.
“There’s nothing here,” he declared, and closed his laptop in disgust. He rose to his feet and gazed at her, silently communicating his gratitude for her help. “Let’s head to the lab. Maybe we’ll have better luck pulling something off the HK416 and the Beta C-mags.”
They left Justice’s office and ran into Captain Locke. Brielle had never met the man personally, but she recognized him from when she’d volunteered at the toy drive he had organized last Christmas in conjunction with the LAPD. He didn’t look happy as he addressed Justice.
“I was told you were here,” he said, his tone somewhat tense. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about Dooley, Carson, Morton, and Holcomb.” His eyes shifted toward Brielle a moment before swinging back to Justice.
Justice drew himself up. “I’m surprised you waited this long.”
Judging by the dark expression on his face, Locke didn’t like his response.
“You didn’t have to suspend them for two weeks without pay.”
“Yes, I did. I’m not tolerating that kind of behavior from anyone in this department, and neither should you. Especially when it was directed toward a fellow officer.”
Locke frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“This is Sergeant Brielle McAdams, LAPD. She’s the officer they harassed. Officer Dooley actually put his hands on her. He’s lucky I didn’t fire him. I still might, depending on his attitude when he reports for duty in another week.”
The captain relaxed a little. “I’m sorry, Sergeant. It won’t happen again.” He looked at Justice. “Please do me the courtesy of a heads up the next time you discipline my officers.”
“I hope there won’t be a next time, but if there is, I’ll discuss it with you first, Captain,” Justice conceded.
“Fair enough.” Locke nodded at them and moved aside as they headed toward the lab.
“You handled that well,” Brielle commented.
“I could have told Captain Locke what I intended to do but chose not to. I wanted to avoid an argument with him, and now he knows I don’t have a problem asserting my authority.”
“Smart.”
He flashed a smile. “We’ll see.”
At the evidence room, the sergeant on duty brought the HK416, still wrapped in the garbage bag. Justice signed the log, and they made their way to the new forensic lab. He greeted the tech and introduced Brielle.
Presenting the garbage bag containing the assault rifle and the box of Beta C-mags, Justice said, “We found these on the beach and need you to run trace on them.”
The tech whistled. “Let’s see what we can find, Chief.”
Using a pair of tweezers, the tech pulled a piece of packing material from the barrel of the assault rifle. Next, he scanned it for fingerprints, and as they waited for the results, he lifted a partial shoe print from the box of Beta C-mags.
“Looks like our guy is about five feet ten and two hundred pounds,” the tech estimated.
