Hollywood Crows by Joseph Wambaugh Read Free Book Online

tidied up. She should have been suspicious of the extra solicitude. Then they all entered the living room and sat down, her mother and sister with a glass of wine each, her father with a beer. And they started in on her.
    “The Community Relations Office is where you belong, Ronnie,” her father began. “You should stay there until you make sergeant. It’s a good stepping-stone and there’s no reason for you to leave.”
    Her mother said, “You’ve done your share of dangerous work, honey.”
    Stephanie said, “Do a year or two as a community relations officer, study, and get promoted. I know you think being a street cop is more fun, but you gotta think of the future.”
    Her sister had assured her own future by marrying a computer geek who made three million dollars from selling his start-up company and investing it in another computer business, which was soaring.
    “What is this, an intervention?” Ronnie said. “When did you all decide to do good-cop, bad-cop on me?”
    “We’ve been talking about you, it’s true,” her mother said. “We know you’re not thrilled with your new job, but you’re smart. You can climb the ladder and end up—”
    “In a safe desk job somewhere,” Ronnie said, ruefully. “Build them a desk and they will sit, right?”
    Stephanie, who bore a family resemblance to her older sister, said, “I’ll never understand your fascination with being a cop anyway. What’s it got you except two failed marriages to other cops?”
    “But they were both Sinclairs, so I didn’t even have to change my driver’s license,” Ronnie said with a smirk, pissed off as she always was when Sanctimonious Stephanie spouted off about Ronnie’s bad choices. Both Sinclair husbands had fooled Ronnie at first, but she felt she hadn’t gotten enough credit for dumping each of them quickly, as soon as she discovered that one was a secret drinker and the other a philanderer.
    “Give your new job a chance,” her father said.
    “You might start liking it,” her sister said. “Making your own hours to suit your own schedule.”
    “And I could quit worrying about you,” her mother said.
    After that evening, Ronnie decided to give it all she had at the CRO, especially since the sergeant had teamed her with an experienced senior lead officer, Bix Ramstead, to whom Ronnie had been drawn instantly.
    Forty-five-year-old Bix Ramstead was thirteen years her senior, on both the Job and the calendar. At six foot one, he was fit and good-looking, with a warm and kindly smile. He had a head full of curls the color of pewter, and smoky gray eyes, and though Ronnie had never dated a man his age, she would have jumped at a chance with Bix. Except that he was married with two children he adored, a sixteen-year-old girl named Janie, and Patrick, who was twelve. Their photos were on his desk and he talked of them often, worrying about whether he’d have enough for their college tuition when the time came. Because of that, he worked as much overtime as he could, and the citizens in his area liked him.
    When Ronnie had mentioned Bix to Cat, she’d said, “Yeah, I was teamed with him a few times, maybe six years ago, when he was working patrol. A complicated guy who never wanted to make sergeant. Not as much fun as some of the gunfighters when you’re working the streets. Back then I was always happier with carnivores than with grazers, but I don’t need kick-ass partners anymore. Now he’d probably suit me fine. Plus, he’s very cute.”
    When Ronnie said it was too bad that Bix was married, Cat said, “He’s a little too old for you, and besides, didn’t you learn your lesson marrying two cops? I learned from marrying one. Do like me and look for a rich attorney next time. Hang out in lawyer-infested bars. Shysters are all over the place, like Starbucks cups.”
     
     
    The first appointment Ronnie took with Bix Ramstead was at “The Birds,” as the cops referred to the Doheny Estates, in 6-A-31’s area.