Book Preview - Whiskey-Colored Eyes

Chapter One

The retirement party had only been going for about an hour, but the guest of honor, Assistant Chief Jude Lorcan, was already trying to decide when she could sneak out without her friends being any the wiser. If it had been any other Assistant Chief, the party would have been held at one of the upscale, five-star resorts scattered around the outskirts of the city. The attendees would have been other commanders, the Mayor, the City Manager, and members of the City Council. Quite often, the movers and shakers of the business elite attended when someone in the upper ranks of the police department decided to leave. That is, if they could network to their advantage at the party.

Not so with Jude. She’d clawed and scraped her way up the ladder the old-fashioned way, often pissing off her fellow commanders and government officials along the way. She was an anomaly among her peers, someone beloved by the troops and warily watched by those in power within the department and the city. She stood up for her people, from the newest recruit to the craggy old detectives who’d probably die at their desks eating the greasiest burger they could find.

The chief had tried to stage the party at an appropriate venue commensurate with her status as one of three Assistant Chiefs in the department. Jude had categorically rejected the idea, knowing the rank and file wouldn’t come if it were held in a place they considered snobbish or self-important. No, Jude had flat-out refused to attend unless the party was held at the local lodge of the Fraternal Order of Police.

The room was packed with well-wishers, almost all from the front-line officers and detectives she’d either served with over the years or who had served under her in her various command roles. The exceptions were the Chief and one of Jude’s best friends, Assistant Chief Peggy Marks. Round tables with grey-brown tablecloths and plastic folding chairs were full of people laughing and joking at each other’s expense, something that would never have happened with the ruling elite.

She sipped her Moscow Mule and glanced around the room. The walls were plain, white-washed brick, stained from years of cops leaning against them as they chatted with their friends after their shifts, during family birthdays, or even at some weddings. One whole wall was dedicated to cops, many of them her friends who’d lost their lives in the line of duty.

She raised her glass to one in particular, the newest addition to the fifteen framed photos lined up in three straight lines of five officers each. Lieutenant Marla Asher stared out at her from behind a piece of glass. The left side of her face was masked by the reflection of one of three rustic wagon wheel chandeliers hanging from fissured ceiling tiles stained yellow from roof leaks or enthusiastically shaken beers.

The reflection didn’t matter, though. Jude knew every inch of that face, from the slightly crooked nose a drug dealer had given her when she’d tracked him to his lair to the blue, almost grey eyes that missed nothing and sparkled with a bottomless supply of humor and good cheer.

The ever-present stone of grief sank into Jude’s belly, and she quickly turned away, tamping down the urge to run and never look back.

A familiar voice spoke from just behind her right shoulder. “She wouldn’t want you to be sad at your retirement party, Chief. Of all the people we know, she’d be the first to tell you to drink until you have to be carried out and driven home.”

Jude turned to one of the best cops she’d ever had the privilege to work with and tapped her chipped ceramic mug against Danelle Cooper’s red plastic cup that was close to overflowing with beer. “You’ve got that right.” She forced a grin and blinked back tears unexpectedly swirling in her eyes.

Danny, a stocky black woman with curly hair cut close to her head, noticed and put a hand on Jude’s shoulder. “You’d think two years would be long enough to be able to move on, but it’s been four since my Johnny died, and I’m still grieving for him. But I’ve learned to give myself permission to enjoy life, and that’s what Marla would have wanted for you tonight.” She squeezed her shoulder. “Especially tonight.”

Jude turned back and stared at Marla’s picture. “You know, it’s funny the things you think about at the strangest times. My mom never liked her…well, hated the idea I married a woman and doubly hated I married someone she considered beneath my station. Mom pushed us away with her sharp tongue and then wondered why we stayed away. We’d always go to Mom and Dad’s house for the holidays, though, and at all the big meals, when the entire family was there, you know, the married siblings and their kids, Mom would eventually have that one Black Russian too many and she’d sneer at me and say, ‘Blood’s thicker than water, Jude,’ and every time, Marla would smile into my eyes and say, ‘And love’s thicker than blood.’” Jude sighed, and to stop the heavy weight growing in the pit of her stomach, sipped some more of her drink.

After taking a sip of her own, Danny tilted the cup in Jude’s direction. “You surprised us, you know, when you put in your papers. I can’t believe you kept it from your best friends. You’re only forty-six. We all expected you to stay at least for your thirty-two-year pin. Hell, most of us expected you’d be the next Chief of Police.”

Jude scrunched up her nose and indicated the red cup with a lift of her chin. “Is that from the tap? How can you drink that swill? It tastes like donkey piss with a little cat pee thrown in to give it that extra bit of attitude.”

Danny laughed, “Don’t try to change the subject. I remember you once saying you were a lifer. Thirty-two or bust.”

“No, twenty-five was plenty long enough for me. If Marla was still here, then maybe. But going home to an empty house expecting her to meet me with a cold bourbon while she grills me about every detail of my day is just too much. I can’t do the silence anymore. And the job’s not fun anymore, either. Sitting behind a desk doesn’t agree with me, Danny. I’ve gotta get out of here.”

They’d been friends ever since Jude had been Danny’s Field Training Officer twenty-one years earlier. They’d fought bad guys together—most from the streets, but many from their own department. On top of that, Jude and Marla, and later, just Jude, had helped raise Danny’s twins, especially after her husband, John, had died when a drunken teen had driven his father’s Lexus into the driver’s side of his SUV.

Danny glanced over her shoulder at the plain wooden frame surrounding Marla’s picture. Even she couldn’t look at that beloved face without it twisting her gut into knots. She turned back to Jude. “I was shocked when I saw you’d put your house up for sale. You usually tell me everything, Jude. Don’t shut me out. What are your plans?” Danny was a twenty-one-year veteran patrol officer who worked the beat where Jude’s house was located. Most commanders moved outside the city limits, hoping to distance their personal lives from the city’s problems.

Jude not only lived within the city, but she’d deliberately bought a house in the center of the barrio where she grilled burgers with her neighbors and was invited to special, neighborhood family events—a fact she was perversely proud of and one she considered a badge of honor whenever she spoke to community groups who unknowingly accused her of being too far removed from the realities of city life.

“Do you remember about four months ago when I took four weeks off and visited New York City?”

“Yeah.”

Jude opened her mouth to continue but was drowned out by Mauricio Díaz, a loud, brash third-generation Puerto Rican cop whose mother and grandfather had both worn the badge with pride. At those polite retirement parties the brass attended, someone would have gotten people’s attention by cordially tapping the side of their wine glass. Not so, Mauricio Díaz. He enthusiastically waved an obnoxious cowbell right next to Chief Axel’s ear.

The chief, a relatively harmless man who’d risen through the ranks on his intelligence and genial personality rather than his pitifully lacking brawn, winced but otherwise took the good-natured jibe in stride.

When the room had quieted, Díaz set down the bell, picked up his can of beer, and held it high. True to his name, which Mauricio had once told Jude meant dark or Moorish, he had a swarthy complexion, a head of wild black hair, and rugged, sharply defined features. Mauricio could never speak with a quiet, calm inflection, and his voice boomed out over the room, practically echoing off the brick walls. “I got two toasts today, Chief Lorcan, so you gotta listen to me for a change.”

Laughter erupted because it was well known that when Mauricio had been a detective in Jude’s homicide squad, she’d been famous for yelling, “Díaz, will you shut the fuck up?”

Jude grinned around lips she’d just mimed zipping shut.

“First, I’d like all of you to stand and toast all of our friends whose pictures hang on that wall, and today, especially, we need to toast the chief’s wife, Lt. Asher.”

Chairs scraped along the ancient vinyl flooring as everyone pushed back to stand. Everyone, including Jude and Danny, turned and raised their cans or cups toward the Wall of Heroes. Jude couldn’t help thinking that anyone who thought all cops were homophobes should see this roomful of grizzled veterans toasting the wife of their female assistant chief.

Díaz shouted, “To our friends and comrades in arms!” After everyone repeated the toast and chugged down a drink of whatever they held in their hands, he paused long enough for them to turn back to him as they waited for the promised second toast.

He was more than a little drunk, and Jude wasn’t surprised to see tears forming in his eyes. What did surprise her, though, was seeing tears in many other eyes as they looked toward her in anticipation of his next words.

Danny leaned in and whispered, “Hold it together, Chief. You mean more to us than you realize.”

Díaz, who, despite his bawdy exterior, was actually a well-educated man who could turn on the charm, raised his beer can a second time and grinned despite the tears. “Chief Lorcan, even though we all know more than a couple of commanders who are glad to see your ass walking out the door, all of us in this room and mostly all the officers and detectives in the department hoped this day would never come.”

Even Chief Axel held up his beer at that, “Hear, hear.”

“You always had our backs, and even when we fucked up, we knew you’d be fair when you kicked our butts for the stupid shit we got into.” General nods and chuckles went around the room. “Speaking of stupid shit, I remember when you drove that patrol car into that swimming pool when you were chasing Hector Morales through midtown.”

Jude laughed and covered her eyes while someone yelled, “Yeah, and Coleman showed up with a fishing pole to help fish the car outta the drink!”

Chief Axel sat up straighter at that. “I never heard about that!”

Everyone laughed, and Díaz’s demeanor sobered before continuing, “The first time I met you, I told you what my name meant, but I didn’t tell you that I’d also looked up your name, too. Names are important to my people, and I remember wondering if you’d live up to yours. Lorcan means fierce warrior in Gaelic, and all of us here can attest to the fact that you’re one of the fiercest defenders of your people and of the city.” He raised the can a bit higher, “So, we’re gonna miss you, Chief, and all of us wish you a good life. May you find the right road that leads to happiness, and may you enjoy every pothole along the way.” He stared into her eyes a moment. “Life’s a journey, boss, not a destination. We’ll all be here for you, wherever your new life takes you.”

A roar of “Hear, hear” and “To Chief Lorcan” echoed throughout the room as everyone drank to her retirement.

Jude took the napkin Danny held out and wiped the tears from her eyes. She heard her friend say, “I told you to hold it together, but crying works too.” People surged forward, and Jude was engulfed in a sea of well-wishes and hugs. She hoped she was doing the right thing. These were friends she’d come to love over the past twenty-five years, people who’d pulled thugs off her back in bar fights and some who’d laid down cover fire when she’d run through a hail of bullets to drag one of her wounded detectives out of a drug deal gone bad.

If Danny was one of the best officers in the department, one of the last people to come up to hug Jude, was the best detective supervisor she’d ever had work for her. Avalon Baker didn’t look like your typical cop. She was of an average height, but that was about the only average thing about her. With shapely breasts giving her an hourglass figure, Avy, as her friends called her, could have been a model gracing any runway in the world. Add to that the fact that she hit the gym every day after work and could out-bench many of the men in the department, and Avy was a force to contend with.

She’d worn her blond hair down to the party, and she swept one side back with a swipe of her fingers as she beamed at her old boss. “I still can’t believe you’re leaving us, Chief. I envy you. If I had someplace to go, I’d be out of here in a heartbeat.”

That was enough of a surprise that Jude leaned forward and cocked her head. “I didn’t think Tessa had twenty years on. You can’t leave until she’s eligible to retire, right?” Tessa and Avy had been married for four years and Jude wondered why Avy would consider leaving without waiting for her wife to get the required years in for a full retirement.

Avy glanced at Danny, who looked uncomfortable, before turning and looking anywhere but at the sergeant. A spectacular blush suffused Avy’s cheeks when she turned back to Jude. “Tessa left me. She shacked up with Anne Russell from Team Two. We’re getting a divorce, so like I said, if I had any place to go, I’d be out of here in a heartbeat.”

The fact that Tessa was the one to leave didn’t surprise Jude. She’d always been loose, sleeping around with every woman who caught her eye. She put a hand on Avy’s arm and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Avy. That’s gotta be rough.”

“Well, I’ve turned a blind eye for the last few years. I guess I didn’t want to deal with the truth. But she’s gone, and this is your party, so let’s change the subject, shall we? Congratulations on your retirement, and don’t forget us poor sods when you start your new adventure. Keep in touch, yeah?”

“I will.” Other people were waiting to wish Jude well, and Avy said goodbye and headed out the door. As it turned out, Jude stayed until well after one in the morning. Many of the revelers would stay until the bar closed at two, but she didn’t want to be the last one standing in an empty FOP hall watching the final person leave. The cab dropped her at her door, and she stumbled inside, knowing she’d have a hell of a hangover when she awoke to her first day as an unemployed civilian.