Meant to Be Immortal (Argeneau #32) - Lynsay Sands Page 0,70

That didn’t bode well. “Why are they here?”

Captain Dupree’s mouth compressed with displeasure, but before he could respond something crashed through the large plate-glass window on the other side of the door.

CJ was moving before she was even thinking; grabbing Mac’s arm, she rushed him back the way they’d come, and hurried him around the reception desk to take cover as another crash sounded, and then another. She ducked briefly behind the counter herself to get him there, then popped up for a quick look over the floor on the other side of the reception counter, her gaze sliding over the large rocks that had smashed through the glass and were growing in number on the tiled floor as they continued to fly through the now shattered windows.

“What the hell?” she exclaimed with amazement, and then whirled to where Captain Dupree was hunched down behind the counter on the other side of Mac. Stabbing him with accusing eyes, she demanded, “What have you done?”

“I haven’t done a damned thing,” he snapped back at once, but the guilt on his face suggested otherwise.

CJ’s mouth tightened and she asked, “Why were you and Jefferson at the hospital last night?”

That brought a startled glance from the man before he quickly looked away toward the gaping holes where the windows used to be. The number of rocks flying in were slowing now. Either the crowd had expended their anger, or they’d simply run out of rocks.

Captain Dupree’s mouth compressed and it was Mac who answered. “While at the hospital waiting for you I overheard some nurses saying that Jefferson beat the hell out of a couple of teenagers and put them in the hospital,” Mac announced quietly. “One’s in a coma with possible brain damage, and the other has a broken cheekbone, jaw, and clavicle.”

“Christ,” CJ growled, turning on Dupree. “Is this true?”

“Jefferson’s a good cop,” Dupree said, but she noticed that he didn’t sound as certain of that as he’d been during her previous conversations with him about Jefferson. He’d been a staunch defender of the man during their phone calls, informing her that he’d come with the highest recommendation when he’d hired him and had never had an incident like this. But it seemed to her that some of his faith in the officer had been shaken by this latest incident. Still, he frowned and added, “Jefferson said those boys were looking for trouble, started wailing on him and he defended himself. He was injured too,” he added defensively.

“He has a bump on his forehead and a black eye,” Mac said when CJ turned to him in question. Grimacing, he then added, “The nurses were of the opinion that he gave it to himself to be able to claim they attacked him. Apparently, the kid who’s still conscious said he hit him to get him off of the other kid before he killed him, but that he hit him in the kidneys, not the face.”

CJ cursed, and said, “Oh, for—”

“What’s happening?”

That question had CJ snapping her mouth shut and glancing around to see that Decker and Bricker had joined them in hunkering down behind the counter. So had the remaining police officers at the station. But while Mac’s two bodyguards were behind her and Mac, the officers were stretched out along the counter, crouched down, looking to their captain, their hands on their guns.

Eyeing them with concern, she said, “The citizens of Sandford are displaying their displeasure with their police captain.”

“Me?” Captain Dupree said with amazement. “I haven’t done a damned thing.”

“No, you haven’t,” she agreed. “You should have relieved Jefferson of duty pending the investigation after the Keith Kaye incident. Instead, you kept him on and let him hurt two more people.”

“You don’t know that he hurt anyone,” he insisted, but he was avoiding her eyes as he added, “Jefferson is a good cop.”

“Your expression belies your words, Captain. So why are you defending him? What is he? Your illegitimate son?” she asked impatiently.

“Of course not,” Captain Dupree snapped, but then grudgingly admitted, “He’s my son-in-law.”

CJ’s head went back slightly at the words and her eyes widened with dismay. “Are you shitting me? Is your daughter okay?” When he looked startled by the question, she pointed out, “Cops who abuse their power and position on the job are usually abusive at home too, Captain. Surely you know that?” When he frowned but didn’t respond, she asked, “Any changes in your daughter since the marriage? Sudden increase in bruises from supposedly clumsy