Free Critical Pursuit by Janice Cantore Page A

a death like that?
    She checked her watch. The meeting had taken all of thirty minutes. This wasn’t a battle she was ever going to win. Brinna knew she could have thrown a tantrum and pulled the union into a fight about forced transfers, but that might have gotten her sent to a desk job. She decided to make the best of it with O’Reilly for one reason: they weren’t taking Hero permanently. Besides, she thought,she’d only have to put up with Jack O’Reilly for two weeks. Whatever his major malfunction was, two weeks was only eight shifts. Brinna vowed she wouldn’t let him cramp her style.
    She punched in Maggie’s number as she left the building. “I’m done. Where do you want to meet?”
    “I’m on my way to Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf. What’s the word?” Maggie asked.
    “I’ll tell you when I see you.” Brinna flipped the phone shut and grinned, cutting off Maggie’s protest. She hopped in her truck and headed for the coffee shop. Driving down Ocean toward Second Street, contemplating Jack O’Reilly while cursing Hester Shockley and Gerald Clark, Brinna grudgingly admitted to herself that maybe the temporary reassignment was for her benefit. She’d seen good cops destroyed when lawyers like Shockley got to court and twisted the truth. And being destroyed was not a destiny she’d consider.
    When she reached CBTL, she shoved worrisome thoughts to the back of her mind, vowing not to let the press turn her into a lame second-guesser   —or “zip,” as Milo liked to call anyone whose paralyzed thinking kept them from making decisions or solving problems effectively.
    The parking lot at the coffee shop was full. No surprise even for a Sunday night. CBTL sat where Second Street, a busy, six-block section of the Shore, began. Popular bars, restaurants, and shops made up Second Street, and the area always percolated with activity. Brinna found a spot on a side street about a block away and jogged back to CBTL.
    Maggie waited at an outside table. She sipped a coffee, and Brinna smiled when she saw a second cup on the table.
    “That for me?” she asked as she took a seat.
    Maggie nodded, mouth turned down in a pout. “I bought you a latte, though after leaving me in suspense, I should have let you stand in line.” She folded her arms across her chest. “So what’s the story?”
    Brinna sipped her coffee and told Maggie the news.
    “Jack O’Reilly?” Maggie’s cup stopped halfway to her mouth.
    Brinna nodded.
    “We were just talking about him,” Maggie exclaimed. “I thought he was certifiably 5150, ready for the rubber-gun squad.” She shook her head and put her coffee down.
    “Apparently, according to Hoffman, O’Reilly requested the move back to patrol,” Brinna explained. “He wasn’t kicked out of homicide. That should prove he’s 5150, as hard as it is to get into that detail.” She blew out a disgusted breath. “You think maybe it’s really just politics? That homicide wants him out but can’t demote him without agitating the union?”
    Maggie laughed. “My, how cynical you are. Actually, Rick heard a locker room rumor that it was O’Reilly who wanted out of homicide. He’s burned out. You can handle an old burnout. I don’t call you Briny for nothing. You’re a salty old copper.”
    “Ha. I like working on my own, with just Hero. He doesn’t argue with me about what we’re going to work on.”
    “You’re worried about your kids, aren’t you?”
    Brinna nodded and took a long gulp on her latte. “Rodriguez says we can work a wild car so we won’t be tied to one beat. I might still be able to follow leads, carefully.”
    “But you’re the Kid Crusader.” Maggie laughed.
    Brinna sighed. “I don’t even know this guy. He may run and tattle on me. Plus, I have to admit all the stuff Hester Shockley is saying about me shooting an innocent kid is distracting. Remember Pratt and Barker?”
    Brinna brought up a pair of Long Beach cops who’d been forced to resign after a