Free Delta Stevens 2: Storm Shelter by Linda Kay Silva

say this and then shook her head. “No, wait a minute. It’s not that I can’t let go of it. It won’t let go of me.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “It means, this creep has his hooks in me and isn’t letting go. It’s almost like I’m being reeled in. It’s weird. That’s the only way I can explain it.”
    “That is weird. Well, if he’s reeling you in, then I feel sorry for him. He’s got a hold of a much bigger fish than he could possibly bargain for.”
    As they cruised along the darkened streets like a tiger shark in the belly of the darkest ocean, Delta began scribbling notes on her pad and tired to hum an upbeat tune.
    “Is Dennis getting ready for the big race?” Delta asked, as they rolled to a stoplight.
    “As usual, he and the guys have this betting pool going. They bet on each other—you know, who’s going to lose the most, who’s going to luck out, that sort of thing.”
    Delta shook her head. Men were only boys in big bodies. “The ponies have never been kind to your husband.”
    Jan nodded. “Isn’t that the truth. He’s tried a thousand different systems, and none of them have worked.”
    Delta chuckled. “Remember when his system was to bet on the horses that peed just before going into the starting gates?”
    Their laughter was interrupted by the radio announcing they had a “possible shots fired” call. It was one of the worst calls a beat cop could get. There might be a gun involved, there mgiht be a crome committed. A 216 could be an extremely dangerous situation. Or it might not.
    The call was a lot like being a little pregnant or sort of blind; it left a cop with more questions than answers, and answers were a cop’s greatest allies.
    Jan flipped open her book and ran her finger down the list of addresses. “It’s the Oakwood Apartment Complex.”
    “Let’s hit it!” Delta said, turning on both sirens and the lights. In less than a minute and a half, they pulled into an alley paralleling Hemingway Street.
    “The car lot?” Jan yelled, as Delta killed the ear-piercing sirens.
    “Yes.” Car lots made for good cover when driving up to a 216 because they offered plenty of hiding areas should there be an ambush. Delta had seen a fellow officer go down once because he parked right on the street when responding to a PSF call. He hadn’t even gotten completely out of the car when he took two bullets in his leg and one in his abdomen. Since then, Delta always made sure she aprked where there was sufficient cover.
    Slipping between two Gremlins, Delta motioned for Jan to look at the side door of the apartment building, which stood wide open. there were no lights on the inside, only a very dim exterior bulb, shining nakedly against the peeling paint. From her place behind the Gremlins, Delta spoke into her radio and asked for the E.T.A. of back-up. The answer was one minute.
    When back-up arrived, Delta sent them to the other side of the apartment building, issuing orders on what and what not to do. Ever since she shot her would-be assassin in a warehouse, Delta became the expert in searching and maintaining a perimeter around buildings. Every officer in the city knew of her success against an armed man in a dark warehouse, and her victory was lengendary.
    Delta motioned for Jan to cover her while she approached the open door. Entering dark buildings was a greter threat than almost anything else a cop could face. Delta didn’t know if someone was inside, waiting to shoot her. She didn’t know if there was another crime going down and she was just about to walk into the middle of it. She basically knew zero about the situation.
    What she did know was that someone had called the police because they believe they heard shots being fired. Shots fired plus an open door leading into a dark building meant trouble.
    When Delta reached the door, Jan slid in behind her, taking the low point as she had done at the pharmacy. As Jan and Delta criss-crossed through the interior hallway,