Restoration
Chapter 15
For a moment, John can't figure out where he is. His six foot two frame is curled to fit into the limited space of a couch. Right. He's at Grace's apartment. He glances at the watch still on his wrist. It's 5 a.m.
Nolan considers trying to fall back asleep, but if he gets up now, he'll have plenty of time to shower and pick up fresh clothes at home before roll call. In the coming light of day, Hernandez's bomb planting presence should create less of a taint in John's lovingly rebuilt house. At least he hopes so. He leaves as quietly as he can, pushing the button on the knob to make the door lock behind him.
Pressing on his temples isn't helping Tim's hangover, and the idea of aspirin on an empty stomach triggers his gag reflex. He should have stayed at the gym instead of going out for a drink — drinks, especially after the way the advice he gave Chen turned out. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he worked out, his anger didn't wane.
The revelations Armstrong managed to elicit from Hernandez were horrifying and infuriating. Under Rosalind's thrall, the guard turned his back on anything decent or even human, carrying her messages to Caleb and completely bowing to her bidding. Even with Tim's extensive familiarity with street curses, no description could fit what the mother****er Caleb did to Chen. The guilt of urging her into Caleb's path is like a two-ton weight on Tim's chest.
Bradford would love to kick some street ass, but Grey will probably put him on the desk until Chen returns. Maybe that's just as well. An excessive force charge could destroy Tim's chance of making sergeant. Not that the hike in rank seems to matter much at that moment. He needs to do something, anything, to make sure Rosalind isn't pulling the strings of any more flesh puppets. At this moment, he has no idea how.
"Officer Bradford," Grey announces, "until officer Chen returns, Detective Armstrong has requested your assistance. You'll be reporting to him when we're finished here. The D.A.'s office considers the search for Rosalind Dyer's victims complete. The rest of you will all be resuming your regular patrols.
"We're facing increasing political pressure regarding the homeless in some areas of the division. You'll be receiving a list of shelters with openings. It's a short list, and the beds are limited, but help whenever you can. If you do fill a bed, call in so we can modify the availabilities, and we don't create any false expectations. All right. That's it. Be careful out there."
"What do you need from me?" Bradford demands, striding into Armstrong's office.
Armstrong throws out a hand. "Chill, Bradford. I thought you'd want in on this. I'm reviewing the records of everyone with any contact with Rosalind, who might be carrying messages for her."
"You think she has a replacement for Hernandez?" Bradford queries.
"I do," Armstrong confirms. "Rosalind is always three moves ahead. She knew Hernandez well enough to realize that he'd screw up eventually. We need to figure out who her backup is. So grab a pile of files and get to work — unless you think you have something better to do."
Bradford grabs an armload of folders. "Let's find the sonofabitch."
"Are you with me, Boot?" Harper asks.
"Sure. Of course. Why? Did I miss something?" Nolan wonders.
"No, but we've been on the road for 10 minutes, and you haven't started talking your head off yet. That's a record for you."
"Just trying to concentrate on what's in front of us. Look under that overpass. Is that a group of homeless?"
"It's not a bad location, and they have tents," Nyla points out. "They may not want to move, Nolan. It's public property. Under the revised rules, we can't roust them if they don't want to go."
"I'm aware of that," Nolan responds. "It was one of the oral questions the chief threw at me on my 6-month Rookie exam. He might have been trying to trip me up since the City Council had just changed the regs, but there was a big article about the situation in the Times. I studied it because we had nothing like this number of homeless in Clarion County. Of course, there are decent and affordable places to live in Clarion. If my house here hadn't been in foreclosure and about to fall apart, there's no way I would have been able to buy it. It's a shame, you know. There are a lot of empty houses where people could live if they fixed them up. Some of the structures are either condemned or slated to be. If they could be saved, it would not only provide homes; it would save the city the cost of demolition."
Nyla shakes her head. "There's the bleeding heart guardian again. Put him away and offer the people you're looking at an option. That's the best we can do right now."
The grooves flanking Nolan's nose deepen as he returns to the shop. "You were right. They don't want to go into shelters. Most of them are working, and they have a society of sorts helping each other out. They're afraid they'll lose it if they move."
Harper starts the shop. "They're probably right, Nolan. Let's go."
Tim paces Armstrong's office, taking in the information in the prison files. Chen was right about him absorbing things better when he's moving, and Armstrong probably assumes Bradford can't sit still. He can't, not when Rosalind may have another agent out there. There's something about the record of the guard in the file he's studying.
That's it! He's almost the same age as Rosalind, and they come from the same part of the city. They might have gone to school together, at least until Rosalind was identified as disturbed. It's worth checking to see if he has access to Rosalind — or she has access to him. She could already be sending him out to kill.
Despite her nightmares of smothering in the dark, Lucy is beginning to get bored. Her mother thinks that's a good sign, but it's a therapist assigned by the L.A.P.D. who'll have to certify her as fit to return to work. Her appointment isn't scheduled for a couple of days.
Since Lucy's best distraction is music, Jackson agreed to go to the karaoke bar with her, especially since Sterling is off on location. It's Calypso Night, not something she's usually into. They won't be going until Jackson's off shift, but there's no reason she can't practice until then.
There's plenty of calypso music Lucy can download. She's bouncing to the island rhythm until the sound of steel drums hits her like a piledriver. In a split second, she's back in her prison, enclosed by metal walls. The flashback holds her in its grasp until long after the recording is finished. She won't be going to karaoke, at least not that night. But what the hell is she going to do?
As Harper drives past the parking lot of a home improvement center, Nolan can see the crowd of men waiting to be offered jobs. Since he's been picking up supplies for his own projects, he's learned a little about the hopeful workers. Some of them are highly skilled but are limited by their language skills or lack of certifications. Many of them are undocumented as well, but that's another problem. If someone would rehab the homes in his neighborhood, there would be plenty of employment. There has to be a way to get the projects started for the good of the workers and the city.