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surged forward instead of backward this time. His fist curled and struck out, catching Caleb in the ribs. The vest absorbed the impact of the blow entirely. No knife this time. And that was damn disappointing, because assaulting a cop with a deadly weapon while drunk was a trifecta that would have landed this piece of shit in jail for a good long time. As it was, Caleb would just have to settle for simple assault, possession, and drunk and disorderly. He grabbed the drunk’s wrist and twisted it, spinning him around. The man stumbled on the step and lost his footing. Caleb let go of him and he tumbled down the cracked wooden steps and sprawled onto the lawn.
    “Barnes!” The rookie yelled, but Caleb ignored him. He calmly descended the stairs himself, reaching for his cuffs.
    “You’ve assaulted a police officer, sir. I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you in,” Caleb announced in a tone that made it obvious he was anything but sorry. As he bent over the flailing man, he yanked one hand behind his back. Just then the front door banged open.
    “Daddy!” the young boy squeaked, though his mother held him back.
    “Sonofabitch!” the drunk shouted. “You can’t do this! You can’t come into my house and— Ow!”
    Caleb yanked on the other arm and secured the steel bracelets to the man’s wrists.
    “Barnes!” The rookie called out again in a tone that told Caleb he was siding with the drunk on this one. The younger man jogged down the steps and stopped short next to Caleb as he wrestled the drunk to his feet. “Come on, Barnes,” he said, lowering his voice and glancing over his shoulder at the woman and child standing on the porch. “This is crap.”
    “Damn right it is!” the drunk snapped.
    “Shut up,” Caleb replied, giving the man a slight shake. To the rookie he said, “He assaulted a police officer.”
    The rookie gaped at him. “After you provoked him! And that search—”
    “Was totally admissible,” Caleb reminded him.
    The rookie glared at him. “Just by the hair on your nuts,” he grumbled.
    “He can’t do this!” the drunk protested as Caleb took a step toward his cruiser.
    The rookie jumped in front of them. “Come on, Barnes,” he repeated. “You want to do this? In front of the kid?”
    Caleb glowered. He was doing the best thing for the kid, something no other cop who’d been called here before either cared enough or had balls enough to do: lock the asshole up.
    “He’s got it rough,” the rookie whined. “From a broken home—”
    Caleb laughed bitterly. “Broken home? And what? You think you’re going to fix it? With your Conflict Resolution bullet points? Let me tell you something, you can’t fix this kid’s broken home, but you can sure as fuck take out the trash.” He shoved the man toward the cruiser without looking back over his shoulder.

Chapter 5
    Izzy cruised through The Heights with her windows rolled up and her car doors locked. It wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where you’d want to stop and ask for directions. Most of the fences were chain link. Scruffy looking pit bulls glared at her from ragged brown yards. Summer’s green had already faded and autumn was hot on its heels, though Izzy somehow doubted that many of these yards had ever been green in the first place.
    On the corner of King and Vine stood a crumbling brick apartment building. She pulled into an open space in the lot and scanned the front of the place. Finding the doors marked Apartments F through K, she set the parking brake and then locked the Charger. As she stepped onto the curb, she aimed the fob at her ride and waited for the chirp of the alarm being set. As she approached the building, she glanced around, looking for any potential trouble spots. There was no one in sight in the lot, so she felt better about leaving her car. But she couldn’t afford to stay long. There was nothing in the car worth stealing, but it would take a broken window to find that out and Izzy