Ryker (Hope City #6) - Kris Michaels Page 0,10
him on the shoulder.
Ryker didn’t need that type of talk around Brianna’s brother. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He needed to stop this shit in its tracks. “My personal life, as always, is not up for discussion.”
“What about for trashing?” Terry laughed and ducked at the glare he sent his direction. He held up his hands. “All right, I give.”
“King, get your ass out of here. Terry, we need to review the cases that will go to court soon and work the schedule to make sure we have the officers involved available.”
Terry snared his tablet and King waved, yawning again, shuffling through the door. His sergeant shut the door behind him. He leveled a stare at his old friend and lieutenant. “Drop the talk about my lady.”
“Dude, I was joking. No offense meant. I’m sure she’s a wonderful woman.” Terry’s eyes held honest regret.
He glanced at the door and then back to Terry. “Between us and absolutely no one else?”
“You know I can keep a confidence. I just assumed everyone knew you had a lady. I overheard you talking to her a couple times.”
“Yeah, well, my woman is Brody and Brock’s sister.”
Terry stared at him for a long moment before a wide smile spread across his face. “You dog! You’re robbing the cradle!”
He groaned and dropped his head back on the chair. “She hasn’t introduced me to the family yet. Can’t say as I’m looking forward to the fallout, but she’s worth it.”
Terry clamped a hand over his mouth and laughed, “Oh, fuck! You’re dating the commissioner’s daughter! Fenton will have a brain hemorrhage!”
He snorted. “Yeah, well, he will shit a brick when I ask her to marry me.”
Terry’s laughter stalled. “How long have you been dating?”
“Almost three months.”
“Kinda fast there, isn’t it?”
He shook his head. “Not for me. I’m turning 47 this year, I’ve run the race, and I can tell you no one has ever been better for me than this woman. She’s strong, independent, knows a cop’s life, and she’s got her own life together.”
Terry stared at him and then narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, that’s fine, but do you love her?”
Ryker leaned forward and stared into the bottom of his coffee cup. “I’m in deep. Yeah, I do.”
Terry reached out and cuffed him on the arm. “Yeah, but does she know?”
Ryker chuckled. “I haven’t said the words, but I think she knows.”
Terry looked at him and shook his head.
“What?”
“My mom, you’ve met her, right?”
“Yes, I have. She’s amazing.” A take-no-shit-from-anyone kind of amazing with a stare that could make you feel you were ten years old.
“Yeah, that’s one word for her. Anyway, my mom taught me two things about women. The first, never assume a woman can read your mind. She can’t and, not only that, evidently, according to what my momma drilled into me, she doesn’t want to.”
Ryker chuckled. “Ah, huh. Noted. What’s the second rule?”
“A lady is always right, even when she isn’t.” Terry arched a single eyebrow. “Didn’t your momma ever tell you these things?”
Ryker huffed and shook his head. “My mother was busy raising four other boys. I got my education through the school of hard knocks.”
“Oh, don’t you think my momma didn’t knock me around. She did. I still have a bruise on my ass from the last whipping I got with that wooden spoon.”
Ryker burst out laughing. “Yeah, when was that?”
“I’m thirty-nine, so thirty years ago.” Terry’s laughter melded with his.
“I see the captain and lieutenant of my Joint Drug Enforcement Team are hard at work.”
Ryker turned his attention toward the door. The mirth of the moment dried into nothing. “Colonel Fenton.” He and Terry stood. “How may I be of assistance?”
“You can explain to me how Desoto died.” The man’s face was beet red and a vein bulged on his large, bald head.
“As of this moment, we are uncertain Desoto is dead, sir.” He crossed his arms and waited.
Fenton blinked and his mouth fell open before he snapped it shut. “I received notification that his house burned down and he and two others were dead.”
“You did? From who? I know the reports we sent forward were that we had three unidentifiable bodies and pending forensic identification they would be John Doe one, two, and three.”
“It was your responsibility to bring the Edelman case to court. With Desoto dead, you have nothing.”
“Not exactly accurate either, sir,” he interjected. “We have the Edelmans' testimony, video of the events of the night, physical evidence in the form of letters Desoto