Chapters (17)
The siren is right out front. Red light swings across the roof through the blinds. I start tapping my foot; can’t help it. The foot-tapping jiggles my anklet, so I quickly saw through the strap with a handy cleaver.
‘You look like shit, McEvoy,’ comments Deacon as I work.
‘Guy tagged me when I was trying to save your life for the second time,’ I say picking up Barett’s phone which I have become attached to.
I hope I didn’t overplay the hero thing. Doesn’t matter really, because any Brownie points I might have accumulated are about to be wiped out.
‘Yep, so anyways, I gotta put you back in the freezer,’ I say, stuffing the anklet in my pocket.
Deacon’s face says what the fuck?
‘My plan was fine, until the last bit about you breaking out and going Rambo.’
Deacon doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I’m pretty sure she’s thinking about shooting me in a vein.
‘You’re a good cop, Ronelle. I know it. This is your chance to be a good cop again. It might cost you a few brain cells, but you can offer that up to Jesus. That’s what we do in Ireland.’
Deacon mulls it over, then hands me my jacket and nods at the freezer door.
‘You’re right. I gotta go back in, fuck it.’
It really is the only way. If the blues find Deacon strapped to a gurney in a locked freezer, then she is totally clear. She can even claim memory loss.
‘It’s just for a few seconds; they’re right here, and I turned the temperature up.’
Ronelle lets me hoist her back inside. ‘Well turn it back down, dipshit. I hope it’s not Krieger and Fortz. Those two couldn’t find their dicks with a dick-o-scope.’
Dick-o-scope. Nice.
I lay Deacon on the trolley, hoping her frozen marrow doesn’t snap, and strap her down just tight enough.
Before I can secure her right arm, she reaches up and catches my jaw with one shivering hand.
‘I’m cold, Daniel,’ she says.
‘It’s just for a minute.’
She pulls me down for an icy kiss. I feel our lips stick together.
‘Thanks for coming back. I won’t forget it. Next time I catch you for murder one, I might break it down to manslaughter.’
‘Appreciate it.’ It takes a lot for someone like Deacon to say thank you; I expected the barb on the end as soon as she started the sentence.
‘You better get out of here before I start warming up.’
Cute.
I am out of there.