Chapter 2: THE CHASE - PART TWO

1524 Words
"No exceptions, huh?" Jessie clicked off the call and huffed out another sigh, this time shaking her head, annoyed Jack Harwell's new assignment was in the two-one. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she sat up and flipped on the lamp. The light-flooded the room with a soft amber glow. She had ten years on the force, but somehow, word had gotten out that she'd dated Harwell before he married. The operative word being Ôbefore', but her peers refused to believe it wasn't still going on. It wasn't long after that when the threatening notes began to appear. Jessie was convinced it was the guys in the department who were sending those notes so she'd quit. Things had been fine in the department before Harwell had accepted the promotion that made him her boss, and she was resentful. She could have transferred out, but then Zach wouldn't be her partner anymore. She shrugged, telling herself to make the best of it. Jessie crossed the room and entered the bathroom, turned on the faucet, lowered her head, and splashed cold water on her face. Squeezing paste onto her toothbrush, she brushed her teeth, ran a brush through her long auburn locks, and pulled them into a ponytail with a scrunchie she'd found on the messy counter. She groaned when she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. A pair of bloodshot eyes that resembled a roadmap stared back at her. And the bags underneath, from lack of sleep -- they didn't do much for her appearance either. Her fingertips pushed on the skin as if the pressure would release the puffiness and make the swelling go down. Vanity was still evident even at three-fifty in the morning. She sighed and flipped off the light. Making her way over to the pile of clothes still folded in a neat stack on the chair, she groaned again. When would she ever find time to clean this mess? She mentally whined that she'd planned to do that today, but the boss had other ideas. Stacks of unread newspapers, coffee cups and wine glasses with red rings on the bottom crowded the coffee table. She flung her hand in the air dismissing her thoughts and promised to clean it another day. Stretching a clean T-shirt over her head, she removed her long hair out from under the neckband, then pulled out a fresh pair of jeans from the pile and stepped into them. Still groggy, Jessie walked to the nightstand, removed her Glock from the drawer, and checked the chamber to see if she'd remembered to load it the night before. Night before? Hell, it had only been a few hours since she'd gone to bed. She released another grumble of displeasure, then reached for her shoulder holster draped over her bedpost. Before snapping the holster into place, she checked the ammo carrier and snapped the stays around her belt. Her eyes took one last scan around her apartment to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, and she was out the door. A warm breeze brushed against her face when she hit the outdoors, and she wished for colder weather. August in New York City was always the worst month of the summer with its hazy, hot and humid days. Zach's lean body rested against the unmarked car; one ankle crossed over the other, a smirk spread across his face and a large container of coffee in his outstretched hand. She accepted the coffee as she passed by him on her way to the passenger's side of the vehicle. The tight T-shirt that he wore stretched across his chest, deserved a second glance. But so did his other attributes, like his thick, dark wavy hair that rested on his collar, the stubble on his chin against his bronzed tan, and those piercing toffee-colored eyes that made her shudder every time he gazed into hers. Yeah, those eyes were something all right. They made her feel as though he was digging into the very core of her soul. Jessie pushed her mind back to the real world and reminded herself if history had taught her anything, it was never to repeat mistakes. Zach Gerard was mighty fine all right, but getting involved with another partner wasn't worth the aggravation. Of course, there was no harm in dreaming. "Glad to see you made it, Jessie James." She sipped the coffee through the hole in the lid. Hearing Zach call her Jessie James always made her smile and reminded her of how she'd gained the moniker early on in her career when she was a uniformed cop. Anxious to prove she was one of the guys in the male-dominated precinct, the opportunity presented itself during a night watch at the Lincoln Tunnel when two guys, armed with double-barreled sawed-off shotguns, ran across the Plaza and into the tower behind her. Scared to death, she moved fast, determined to make her mark in the department. She remembered creeping up behind them, weapon drawn; she held them at bay until backup arrived. Ever since then, everyone knew her as the gun-slinging Jesse James. "Thanks." "Want to drive?" he asked. "Not unless you want to get into an accident. Maybe later." She opened the passenger's door and slid across the seat, holding her container of coffee in her left hand while she buckled her seat belt with the other. "I figured I'd better bring you some peace offering after interrupting your beauty rest." His devilish grin accentuated the deep dimples in his cheeks, and his eyes sparkled like gemstones. "Yeah, I can see the tears running down those cute little cheeks of yours." She shook her head and changed the subject. "Who called in the homicide?" "Your favorite law enforcer, Tip Jackson. He was first on the scene after dispatch got the call from a biker going through the park." "A biker in Central Park at this hour of the morning?" Her eyebrows creased. "What? Is he training for the Olympics? And how long did Jackson wait before contacting us?" She fired one question after another like it was an interrogation. When he didn't respond immediately and sat staring at her, she tossed her hand in the air. "What?" "As a matter of fact, I believe it was right away," Zach said. "And how the hell did the biker see a dead body in the dark? Was it under a street light?" "Whoa, slow down, Jessie," he said and reached over to pat the top of her hand. "You're getting yourself all fired up over there. Two witnesses were in the park and found the body. They didn't have a cell phone, so they did the next best thing...stopped a biker and asked him to call 911." He gave her a side-glance; his eyebrows rose high on his forehead. "What's the matter? I'm not talking fast enough for you?" He laughed. "I know your head's not in the same place as mine right now, but I'll get to it if you'll give me a chance." "Only nut jobs," she scowled, "would visit the park at this hour?" "Dispatch said the couple, who claim they were out watching the stars, fell over the body." "Who doesn't carry a cell phone with them today?" "Uh, Jess -- you need to get out more. These people are probably naked because they were screwing in the bushes." Zach shook his head at her impatience. "You're a piece of work this morning." He stared into the distance as though he had something on his mind. "You know, that's how I want my marriage to be, out watching the stars, or out in the bushes with my wife. Mmm," his hand tapped the steering wheel, "Yep, that's what I want." "Are you kidding me? You? Married? You're in and out of too many beds to ever settle down with one woman." She twisted her mouth to the side when she recounted how many women he'd mentioned over the last month. "I don't tell tales out of school." "I wasn't asking, hotshot," she countered and downed a swig of coffee. "Lighten up, will you?" His eyes narrowed in a frown. "What's biting you?" "Nothing, Zach. You woke me up out of a sound sleep." "This isn't the first time you've gotten a call in the middle of the night. What's the big deal?" She eased off and took a deep breath. Zach was right; she did need to lighten up. When Jessie didn't respond, Zach flipped the switch for the siren and remained silent until they reached the crime scene. He pulled over to the side of the road, jammed the gearshift into park, and they swiftly exited the vehicle. Pulling out his flashlight, he beamed it onto the ground, lighting a path. Jessie grabbed the flashlight from the car and walked over to the paramedics as they lifted someone into the cavity of the EMS vehicle. She checked the time, noting it was four thirty-five in the morning. She jotted the time down in her notebook. "Who is this person?" she asked the younger of the two EMTs.
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