Read Chasing Justice (Gay Detective Romance Novella) Online
Authors: Corynn Crawford
Chasing Justice (Gay Detective Romance Novella)
Chasing Justice
© 2015 by Corynn Crawford
Cover art images, © Can Stock Photo Inc. / stokkete
and © pixabay.com / PredragKezic
Cover fonts © Franklin by Noah Kinard and Ostrich Sans by Tyler Finck
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and locations are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or events, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The file contained herein constitutes a copyrighted work and is licensed for private individual entertainment only and may not be reproduced without the express written permission of the author.
The material in this document is intended for mature audiences only and is inappropriate for readers under 18 years of age.
Sign up for Corynn Crawford’s mailing list
to be the first to hear about new releases, promotions, and discounts
About This Book
Nothing seems to be going right for New York City Homicide Detective Luke Everett. His wife of twenty-two years has left him, he’s having problems controlling his temper on the job, and his current case has been stalled for months.
Things change when he’s paired up with Deputy U.S. Marshal Eddie Brock, who
arrives
from L.A. seeking help tracking down a murderer Luke was never able to put in prison.
Eddie seems like Luke’s complete opposite in every way: an easygoing smart-ass for whom indulging in life’s pleasures—including men—takes top priority. But
when their search takes them
undercover at a gay club, Luke discovers first impressions can’t always be trusted, and he finds himself
falling for
Eddie despite every instinct of his
conventional
cop persona telling him otherwise.
This 22,000-word
gay
romance novella features mature content, no cliffhanger, and an HFN ending
Chapter 1
The slapping sound of his leather dress shoes echoed through the alley as he struggled to keep up with the man he was chasing.
“Stop!” he shouted, “NYPD!”
Dodging plastic garbage bags and dumpsters with the awkward grace of a middle-aged cop who had been doing it for years, he hopped over a row of cardboard boxes and narrowly missed turning his ankle when he landed.
“Goddammit, T.J., I’m too fucking old for this!” he yelled.
Detective Luke Everett wasn’t prepared to be chasing someone down today; he’d been at a felony arraignment hearing in Manhattan Criminal Court wearing his best suit and tie when he’d gotten a call from a CI that the witness he’d been looking for had been seen. He immediately hopped in his unmarked squad car and sped to the location.
Everett was working a murder of a known drug dealer which had been stalled for months because no one wanted to talk, despite the fact that it happened on a crowded corner in the middle of a Saturday afternoon. Word on the street was that the dealer’s friend, T.J. Cobb, had witnessed the whole thing. Of course, T.J. found it in his best interest not to come forward.
Unfortunately for Luke, the second he pulled up to the curb outside the bodega where T.J. was standing, the kid took off running.
So now here he was ruining the best shoes he had chasing a knucklehead who didn’t have the balls to be a man and step forward to speak up for his dead friend.
The end of the alley opened into a small area of concrete surrounded on all sides by apartment buildings. There was a chain link fence blocking off a narrow walkway through one of the buildings, and T.J. ran right for it.
“No you don’t!” Luke bellowed, catching up to him just as T.J. had grabbed a post and was preparing to vault over. Luke snagged the back of his shirt and yanked him down, then purposely bounced the kid’s face against the fence.
“What the fuck?”
“That’s for making me run, T.J., you little shit. Careful or you might trip coming out of the alley.”
“I ain’t gonna—”
Luke smacked T.J.’s head against the chain link again.
“I
said
be careful.”
“Damn, man.”
“We need to have a talk about Buddha,” Luke said, holding T.J.’s hands above his head so he could do a patdown.
“Buddha
dead
, man.”
“No shit. Everyone said you saw what went down,” Luke said, going through T.J.’s pockets.
“They lyin’.”
“You and I both know that’s not true, T.J. I know you’re scared the killers might come after you—”
“I ain’t scared of
nothin
’.”
“You might change your mind when they send you to Rikers for possession with intent,” Luke said, pulling a baggie of what looked like heroin from the front pocket of T.J.’s jeans.
“That’s not mine.”
“I just need to talk to you,” Luke sighed, handcuffing him. “Your boy Buddha is dead. Don’t you care?”
T.J. shrugged.
“You think about it,” Luke said, escorting him back the way they came up the alley, “and maybe we’ll pretend we never found you holding.”
Luke keyed his radio and let the squad know he was on his way back.
+ + + + +
Precinct headquarters was a typical stone mid-rise positioned right in the middle of the block. It probably would have blended with the rest of the apartment buildings in the area if not for the prominent flag flying from a bracket attached below an exterior window on the fourth story.
The squad room was a completely open area surrounded by interview rooms on one side and offices on the other. A narrow hallway led to the offices of the higher ranking officers. Small windows let in a little sunshine in the morning, but for the most part the flickering fluorescent lamps overhead lit the space. It was claustrophobic and almost dungeon-like, but familiar, like a comfortable pair of ugly shoes.
He was still amped up from the chase, so after putting T.J. into an interrogation room, he decided to change out of his suit and into workout clothes he kept in his locker. The precinct had a sizable exercise room, plus an area with bunk beds they affectionately named the “crib,” for when detectives were working long hours and needed to crash.
Deciding on the free weights to work off his aggression, he loaded the weight plates onto the curl bar, locked them on, and went to work on his biceps. Luke was stout and barrel-chested, and loved the challenge of testing himself. He may have been closing in on forty years old, but he could still keep up with even the youngest guys at the squad. If only he could get his hair to stop thinning as well.
He was doing steady reps when Beth walked in.
He’d been assigned Elizabeth Mills as his partner about six months ago in the middle of an interdepartmental shuffle. She was intelligent, funny, and tough as hell. Luke found a comfortable rapport with her almost immediately, and that familiarity led to them sharing a kiss during a stakeout a few weeks ago, right around the time Kathy had left him. He’d instantly regretted it, and everything had been awkward between them since then.
“I saw T.J. down in the box,” she said, sitting down on the lifting bench next to him. “Did he put up much of a fight?”
“No, but he ran. I got a little angry.”
“You know you were warned about your temper.”
“My temper’s fine,” Luke huffed, bringing the bar to his chest.
“Is that why you’re doing curls in the middle of the day?”
Luke merely grunted in answer.
“What’s going on with you lately?” she asked.
“How do you mean?”
“You’ve been distant. Angry. It’s not like you at all.”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind, I guess,” he said, continuing his reps.
“You know you can tell me anything.”
“I’m working through it.”
“God, you are so full of shit, Luke,” she said. “You’re going through a rough time and keeping it all bottled up inside. We’ve barely talked since that night of the stakeout.”
“What’s there to say? The kiss was a mistake. I’m still married to Kathy.”
“You’re separated,” she pointed out.
“It’s only been a few weeks.”
“Luke—”
“Bethy, listen,” he said, putting down the bar. “That night was a moment of bad judgment between us. Things are…complicated. We both agreed that was the case. It was just a kiss. You and I need to get past this if we’re going to continue working together.”
“I don’t need to get past it, Luke. I need to know where we stand.”
“We work well together, Beth. I don’t want to fuck that up.”
She sighed deeply. “All right, I get it. Don’t shit where you eat.”
“Are you pissed off at me now?” Luke asked, going back to his curls.
“No, asshole, I’m not a sixteen-year-old teenager for Christ’s sake,” she said, kicking at his foot with her shoe. “I’ll get over it. But you need to start using your words more, and stop walking around here scowling and taking out your frustrations on suspects.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“What about the staff psychologist? She might be able to—”
“I don’t need a shrink,” he said, cutting her off.
“It might help, you stubborn son of a bitch.”
“Maybe I’ll think about it.”
“Talking to someone might release some of that pent-up frustration,” Beth said. “Although, now that I think about it, a good fuck can cure that too.”
“Beth—”
“Oh, stop. I didn’t mean me, necessarily. But you don’t know what you’re missing.” She stood and shook her cleavage at him.
Luke laughed. “If we weren’t working together—”
“And if you weren’t still married,” she finished for him.
“Yeah. Maybe. But you and I both know the work comes first, and nothing gets in the way of that.”
Elizabeth groaned. “I’m calling bullshit on that.”
“It’s true.”
“Right. Until you find someone cuter and blonder than me and bang her instead. Which I wholeheartedly advise, by the way.”
“Not possible,” Luke said, smirking. “Although I do have a thing for blondes, no one’s cuter than you.”
She smacked him on his arm. “You’re such an asshole.”
“I am. And don’t you forget it.”
“So…are we good?” she asked him.
He nodded. “Always.”
“Then you won’t freak out at me when I tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“When you’re done here the captain wants to see you,” Elizabeth said, making her way to the door.
Luke tossed the bar down onto the padded floor with a thud. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that when you walked in?”
“I’m giving you a chance to calm down a little before talking to him. I know how you are.”
“What’s this about?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea. But there’s no rush. Shower. Change. He wants to meet with me first.”
“
Shit
.”
“Don’t worry, you may be an asshole, but I’ve got your back.”
Luke watched her leave, wondering what the captain had in store for him now.
+ + + + +
He knew Beth was right. He’d been irritable and distracted these past few weeks, trying to deal with the stalled case with Buddha while navigating attorney paperwork every night when he got home. He was on a short fuse, and he was struggling with it. He’d even put his fist through the living room wall at home in a moment of rage.
After showering and changing into a fresh shirt, he made his way back into the open squad area and his desk. He unfastened his holster from his belt and placed his gun into the drawer.