Free Falling On the Sword by Alex Ankrom Page B

Corner boys beefing.”
    “ What about Washburn and Fucktard?”
    “ They picked up another bloodless corpse out in Old Town. It looks like it’s turning serial. I was all alone. I picked up the phone. Lt. Hardy told me to run with it.” She arched her back, popping her sore disk. “Dylan win his game?”
    Carter cracked a smile. “Yeah, 58 to 47. The kid had 15, 8, and 10. And a couple steals. Once he puts a little more weight on and finishes growing, I think he could turn out to be a pretty decent ball player.”
    “ I guess you like being a dad now, huh?”
    Carter’s stern expression returned. “Don’t try to win me over with that. I’m still pissed at you. Where’s Hardy?
    Locke shook her head. “He was here, but this one’s turning political. The Lieutenant had to run out and report to the Captain, who’s probably as we speak reporting to the Deputy Ops, who will report to the Commissioner, who’s going to have to kiss the President of the City Council’s ass and beg for forgiveness for letting this happen on his watch.”
    Carter turned his head toward the body. “Why? Who was he?”
    “ You don’t know?”
    “ Looks like some white boy wanna be. Should I know him?”
    “ He’s Rick McCullough, Jr.”
    Carter raised his eyebrows. “Rick McCullough, Rick McCullough?”
    “ Yes, Rick McCullough, Rick McCullough.”
    “ No shit. Your first red ball then. The Councilman know yet?”
    “ I’m sure he does, some stupid uniform leaked it. And press jump on in before I even got here.”
    “ Sucks to be you. That’s what you get for giving a fuck when it wasn’t your turn to give a fuck. Unless you want me to take primary?”
    “ No need.” Locke gave him a sly smile. “I already put it down. It was a simple dunker, really. Two suspects found at the scene with a compact .357. It might get a bit complicated though because one of them used to be a police.”
    “ Really? Who?”
    “ Just some burnt out patrol jockey, before my time. Been retired about ten years now. I got the name written down here somewhere.” She looked through her notepad.
    After a few seconds, Carter said, “It can wait. Just slow down and give me what you know.”
    Locke took a breath. “Okay. So the uniforms find this former badge and his daughter at the scene, blood on their hands. All I need is to figure out which one pulled the trigger, and I can put McCullough’s name in black.”
    “ Anyone run them for gunshot residue?”
    “ Not yet. I want to do the GSR myself so I can see that ‘Oh, shit’ look on the guilty one’s face.”
    Carter cracked a smile. “I do love that moment.”
    He walked down the hall, following a trail of blood. “I’ll assume you pulled slugs matching the .357.”
    Locke hustled to join him. “Well, we pulled a .357 slug from the exposed brick in the bedroom, but I’m confident that ballistics will match them to the recovered weapon and the slugs in Ricky Jr.”
    “ Ricky Jr? You know the vic?”
    “ Same family circles, but not really what I would call a friend.”
    “ What would you call him?”
    “ Let me put it like this, he had a nasty habit in college of mixing girls’ drinks for them. And then his dates had memory lapses.”
    “ Oh.”
    “ Nothing was ever proven, but everyone knew.”
    “ He never-to you?”
    “ No, just rumors around our social circle.”
    “ This gonna effect the job?”
    “ I’ll admit that when I saw him my first thought was that it couldn’t have happened to a better asshole, but the law’s the law. That’s all that matters now.”
    Carter stared at her for a moment. She felt uncomfortable, but she didn’t want to show him any weakness. He nodded and continued down the narrow path that led to a single bedroom with a modest bath off to the right side of the room. The molding around the frame leading in was splintered, and a smudged black shoe print marked the door. Locke could still smell the distinctive bitter scent of cordite and sulfur