In the Belly of the Beast

24

 "Look around you, Fontaine. What do you see?"

"Nothing," she said. "It's black as tar."

"I'll tell you what you see. A rat trap. All the unsavory elements of the city congregate here, trapped by ignorance, sloth. . ."

His voice droned on and on. She tuned him out. She hated it when he got philosophical. That's what he called it, anyway. His bursts of erudition.

Erudition, my Aunt Susie, she thought.

There was nothing enlightening or learned in his boring monologues. They were just so much hot air. And she should know. She'd spent hours trapped in a patrol car, cruising the city, and had come to know the man for what he was.

She wasn't a trained psychologist, but she'd spent a lifetime observing people. Her first impressions had him pegged as a scared little man hiding behind a macho veneer.

Over time, he'd projected subtle nuances of character that she'd failed to pick up on at first, but she really hadn't been far off the money in her general assessment.

She longed for the days when she and Traynor were partners.

***

It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Had it only been six months?

She remembered his boyish grin and that twinkle in his eyes that could charm the pants off anyone. Of all the people she'd worked with, he had been the first partner she'd truly enjoyed.

But it hadn't always been smooth sailing for them, at least not at first.

As a female in a male dominated profession, Abby had clawed her way up, working twice as hard as her male counterparts to prove herself. She was stubbornly determined, never giving up until every angle of a case was checked out, until all leads were exhausted.

Her hard work paid off. Slowly, she began to move up in the ranks. Her ascent was slow, much slower than she deserved, but she persisted, doggedly continuing to make collars and make her mark on the force.

When she heard she was to be paired with a new partner, she immediately logged on and began researching him. Traynor wasn't local. He was a transfer. No one knew much about him. She'd have to rely on whatever information she could dig up herself.

She remembered how she'd been blown away when his face came up on her screen. Jesus, the guy could be a movie star. Had they stuck her with a diva, albeit a male version, some connected wise guy who'd rose in the ranks by trading on his looks?

She stared at his face. It could melt ice.

What was a guy like this doing schlepping as a cop?

More importantly, what were his credentials?

She decided to dig deeper.