Gated Prey (Eve Ronin #3)(27)

“You can’t stay awake watching anything unless everybody is wearing cowboy hats. I’m surprised you don’t wear one.”

“You’ve never seen me off duty. I’ve even got spurs,” Duncan said. “They’re hell on my recliner, though. I’ll get the warrants, do the background checks, and go through the interviews from the canvass of Vista Grande. We’ll meet at lunch, share what we’ve learned, and if I’m caught up, I can jump in on the videos with you.”

“Works for me,” she said. “Let’s giddyup.”

They got up, Duncan stole a cinnamon roll for the road, and they took their separate cars to the station.



Detectives Wally Biddle and Stan Garvey, known within the station as Crockett and Tubbs, were in the squad room when Eve and Duncan came in. Biddle and Garvey both wheeled around in their chairs to face them in such perfect synchronicity that they reminded Eve of the Pips, minus Gladys Knight and one Pip.

Biddle was white, in his forties, a lifelong surfer who parted his sun-and-salt-water-bleached blond hair down the middle, single-handedly keeping the eighties alive. She was sure that he longed to wear board shorts and flip-flops to work instead of a suit.

His partner, Garvey, was black, also in his forties, and struck Eve as far more interested in sucking up to celebrities, of which there were many in their jurisdiction, than fairly enforcing the law. The famous always got preferential treatment from him compared to ordinary civilians. His cubicle was covered with selfies with the actors, singers, and athletes he’d helped out of embarrassing legal jams over the years.

Garvey said, “We were in court all day yesterday and missed the excitement.”

Biddle looked at Duncan. “I heard you punched a deputy and got him fired.”

Duncan dropped into his seat, which squealed like an injured animal under the strain. “He had it coming.”

“The other deputies don’t think so,” Biddle said. “It’s a good thing you’re retiring, Donuts. You’re not too popular with the uniforms here anymore.”

Garvey swiveled to face Eve. “But he’s a hell of a lot more popular with them than you, Deathfist. I heard you got Moffett exiled to Siberia.”

Eve said, “That was the sheriff’s decision, not mine.”

“The same sheriff who bumped you up overnight from a deputy in Lancaster to Lost Hills homicide,” Garvey said. “Are you fucking him or what?”

“Yes, that’s it, Tubbs. So you better watch yourself, or I might roll over in bed tonight and tell Lansing to fire you.” Eve went to her desk and sat down, her back to the three of them.

Biddle addressed her back. “Moffett started as a uniform and worked his way up to the captain’s chair. It took a lot of long, hard years to get here and now he’s down at stinking Men’s Central Jail. You think that’s fair?”

Duncan said, “At least Moffett still has his job and his bars. He’s just got a different desk.”

“It’s not right,” Biddle said. “Moffett was well liked and highly respected around here.”

“So was Captain Mendoza,” Eve said as she logged in to her computer. Mendoza was fired for sexually harassing a female Lost Hills deputy. The woman ended up leaving the department with a fat seven-figure legal settlement. Captain Moffett took Mendoza’s place. It all happened long before Eve showed up at the station.

“That was wrong, too,” Biddle said. “Everybody here knew that relationship was totally consensual.”

“It can’t be truly consensual when there’s a power disparity,” Eve said.

“So how’s that different for you and Lansing?” Garvey asked. “Or did he have you agree to sex in writing, and have it notarized, before you went to bed?”

The discussion might have continued, and become a lot more heated, but deputies Tom Ross and Eddie Clayton came in, and that shut everybody up. The deputies approached Duncan and Eve.

Like Lansing’s driver Rondo, Clayton always wore sunglasses, earning him the nickname Shades. Unlike Rondo, Clayton was gregarious and not the least bit invisible. He was also the one other Lost Hills deputy who Eve completely trusted.

Tom took a seat at the cubicle beside Eve’s. “The captain says me and Eddie are deployed to you and Duncan this shift.”

“Which captain?” Duncan asked.

“Captain Roje Shaw. He just transferred over from Compton. Some friends of mine down there say he’s a good man, comes from a family of cops in Jamaica.”

Eddie leaned against the cubicle where Tom sat. “I heard that he was in here at five a.m. I sure hope he’s not gonna make that a regular thing.”

“Why?” Eve asked.

“Because then everybody else will start coming in early for their shifts so they don’t look like laggards.”

Duncan smiled. “Laggard. There’s a word I haven’t heard in a while.”

Eddie shrugged. “My dad called me that so often when I was a kid that I thought it was my first name.”

Eve assigned the two deputies the task of trying to match the recovered goods with items stolen from homes, and just as they were all about to get to work, the new captain came in. Shaw was black, tall, broad shouldered, and bald. A linebacker in a captain’s uniform.

Everyone stood up to show their respect, which made him smile. “Please, sit down, this isn’t the military. I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Captain Roje Shaw. There will be time later for us to get to know one another but right now”—he pointed to Biddle and Garvey—“you two need to go. There’s been a hit-and-run on Pacific Coast Highway. One man is dead. Dispatch has the details.”