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Detective Frank Tillman never asked for a new partner. Certainly not some bright-eyed, sharp-nosed kid straight out of the Academy. Frank was set in his ways. He preferred to work alone.But Carter Bennington happened anyway.Now Frank has bigger things to worry about than the curly-haired, confident young rookie. But when a routine meeting with a long-time snitch goes south and the bullets start flying, the seasoned detective finds that despite the danger, there's only one thing on his mind...---"Carter Bennington, meet your partner, Frank Tillman." I stuck out my hand like a sport. No reason t...
Detective Frank Tillman never asked for a new partner. Certainly not some bright-eyed, sharp-nosed kid straight out of the Academy. Frank was set in his ways. He preferred to work alone.
But Carter Bennington happened anyway.
Now Frank has bigger things to worry about than the curly-haired, confident young rookie. But when a routine meeting with a long-time snitch goes south and the bullets start flying, the seasoned detective finds that despite the danger, there's only one thing on his mind...
---
"Carter Bennington, meet your partner, Frank Tillman." I stuck out my hand like a sport. No reason to show how annoyed I was with the whole deal. "Hiya." Kid did a Jack-in-the-box leap out of his seat, almost giving me a heart attack. He was tall and slender, with a college kid's physique, but his suit looked like it could have paid off the second mortgage on my house. Rich guy. His hair was blond and curly, too long for a cop. He looked more like one of those artists without a day job in Williamsburg. Would probably do okay as an undercover narc there. He clasped my hand in both his palms. I put on my best placating grin, looked into his eyes, and started. His eyes were deep - impossibly deep - and blue as my hotshot brother-in-law's swimming pool in Connecticut. I'd never seen eyes like that before, and despite myself I found it impossible to look away. The room felt hot all of a sudden. Sweat trickled in a thin line behind my ear down my collar. "Frank Tillman. It's an honor. I wrote a paper on how you cracked the Davie Dolan case in '98." My throat dried up, making it hard to speak. Luckily, Sarge saved the day. "One for the books. Kid's missing since Bush was in office, all leads ice-cold…" "How did you know it was the school janitor?" Carter said. I swallowed. "He was the first non-family member who volunteered to search." Carter still held my hand. He seemed to realize the impropriety, smiled sheepishly as we locked eyes once more. He released it at last. It tingled from his touch and I sat quickly, my ass almost missing the chair. I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees, like I was a busy guy with places to go, perched on the edge of my seat. Jesus Christ, this kid had thrown me for a loop and he'd barely said a word yet. What had gotten into me?
But Carter Bennington happened anyway.
Now Frank has bigger things to worry about than the curly-haired, confident young rookie. But when a routine meeting with a long-time snitch goes south and the bullets start flying, the seasoned detective finds that despite the danger, there's only one thing on his mind...
---
"Carter Bennington, meet your partner, Frank Tillman." I stuck out my hand like a sport. No reason to show how annoyed I was with the whole deal. "Hiya." Kid did a Jack-in-the-box leap out of his seat, almost giving me a heart attack. He was tall and slender, with a college kid's physique, but his suit looked like it could have paid off the second mortgage on my house. Rich guy. His hair was blond and curly, too long for a cop. He looked more like one of those artists without a day job in Williamsburg. Would probably do okay as an undercover narc there. He clasped my hand in both his palms. I put on my best placating grin, looked into his eyes, and started. His eyes were deep - impossibly deep - and blue as my hotshot brother-in-law's swimming pool in Connecticut. I'd never seen eyes like that before, and despite myself I found it impossible to look away. The room felt hot all of a sudden. Sweat trickled in a thin line behind my ear down my collar. "Frank Tillman. It's an honor. I wrote a paper on how you cracked the Davie Dolan case in '98." My throat dried up, making it hard to speak. Luckily, Sarge saved the day. "One for the books. Kid's missing since Bush was in office, all leads ice-cold…" "How did you know it was the school janitor?" Carter said. I swallowed. "He was the first non-family member who volunteered to search." Carter still held my hand. He seemed to realize the impropriety, smiled sheepishly as we locked eyes once more. He released it at last. It tingled from his touch and I sat quickly, my ass almost missing the chair. I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees, like I was a busy guy with places to go, perched on the edge of my seat. Jesus Christ, this kid had thrown me for a loop and he'd barely said a word yet. What had gotten into me?
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