Read Horns of the Devil - Jeff Trask [02] for Free Online Page A

Good thing. Murders grab attention, and high-profile cases mean high-level interest. If I was still in the Daly Building, the chief would be either walking down the hall every five minutes or summoning me to her office every time she got a phone call. I’d never get a damn thing done.”
    He looked at his watch and frowned.
    “You didn’t see Dix outside, did you?”
    “Yeah. Way outside. I just came from Arlington. He was camped out on Juan’s grave.”
    “Dammit.” Sivella walked out from behind the desk and sat on the front of it, shoving a stack of case files aside to make room. “I never should have let him partner with Ramirez that long. Over ten years. It’s just hard to break up guys who work that well together. They were the best I had. Cracked every big case I ever gave ’em. Still, if I’d split ’em up, Dix might not be where he is right now. I can’t pull his head out of this. He blames himself for Juan’s murder.”
    “How long has he been solo?” Doroz asked.
    “Ever since Juan died. I tried assigning another experienced guy to ride with him, but that lasted all of two days. His new partner came in and threw his badge on my desk. Said I could either reassign him or he’d quit. Dix was giving him hell the whole time. I just let Dixon ride alone after that. He’s still a helluva good detective, even working alone. His casework hasn’t suffered, but the rest of his life has. His wife left him last week.”
    “Melody’s gone?” Doroz asked. “Christ, they’ve been married over twenty years, haven’t they?”
    “Yep. High-school sweethearts. She called me after she moved out, said she’d tried to make a difference after Juan died, but Dix wouldn’t let her. She said he still wakes up with nightmares, just sits in the den and cries at times. If I’d noticed anything on the job other than Dix just being a cranky asshole—I’ve got lots of those—I’d have given him an order to see the department shrink.”
    “You can’t let him ride alone on this case, Cap,” Doroz said. “The MS-13 crew’s too dangerous and won’t be reluctant at all to take out a cop working alone.”
    “I know that. I hope I picked the right guy for the job. If not…”
    Trask looked up after hearing the knock on the frame of the open door. He stood and held out his hand. “Good to see you again, Tim.”
    “You too, Jeff.”
    Wisniewski was wearing his tailored patrol uniform. About thirty-five, he still had the look of a California beach lifeguard: blond, blue-eyed, and buff. The uniform looked like someone had painted it on him.
    “Come in, Tim.” Sivella offered his hand. “You remember Barry Doroz, right?”
    “Of course. Bear, how are you?”
    “Better than you’re going to be, if my hunch is right.” Doroz glanced at Sivella, looking for confirmation. Sivella nodded.
    “What’s going on?” Wisniewski asked.
    “I’ve got some good news and, of course, some bad news,” Sivella began. “The good news is that you’ve passed the detective’s exam.”
    Sivella tossed a new wallet to Wisniewski, who caught it and opened it to examine the gold shield inside. He smiled and looked up.
    “OK. Thanks. What’s the bad news?”
    “Because you’re from New Mexico and had the foresight to become fluent in Spanish, the Latino Liaison Division had their sights on you when your name came out on the list. You know, showing the city flag on Cinco de Mayo, translating on high-school career day in certain neighborhoods, being the junior guy with the language skill on somebody else’s cases—”
    “That’s OK. I know I have to start somewhere,” Wisniewski said.
    “Oh, you won’t be getting off that easy, young man.” Sivella laughed. “I pulled rank and got your ass assigned here. You’ll be working for me in Violent Crimes. Homicide cases. I’m assigning you to the Bureau, Tim. You’ll be a TFO on Barry’s squad working an investigation into at least one murder—probably committed by