Linda Kay Silva - Delta Stevens 3 - Weathering the Storm by Linda Kay Silva

children ran toward her, Delta felt a familiar chill run the length of her spine. They were dearer to her than she could ever imagine, and she remembered a vow she had made a long time ago, upon the grave of the only man she had ever really loved.
    And now, as she held their precious little bodies in her arms, Delta vowed she would do what she had to to stop the snuff films—not for her own release of guilt, not for her own glory, but for the two little beings she had promised so long ago to protect with her life.
    And if that’s what it took, then so be it.
    “Take good care of your mom for me, okay guys?” Hugging Colin and Casey to her, Delta said her goodbyes and squeezed Jennifer tightly before heading out the door. “If you ever, ever need me—”
    “I know where to call. Thank you for coming by, Del. Come over for dinner real soon, okay?”
    Delta smiled. Suddenly, she felt like crying. After Miles’s death, Jennifer and the kids had adopted her and welcomed her into their family. It was this family she would run through brick walls for, and if anyone even remotely threatened it, Delta would do whatever she had to to stop them.
    “Will you make my favorite?”
    Jennifer nodded. “Liver and onions with lots of crispy bacon. You got it.”
    Delta’s heart warmed even more. “Love you guys.”
    “We love you, too, Del. Be careful.”
    With that, she jumped back into the patrol car.
    “All done?” Tony asked, starting the engine.
    Before she even had a chance to answer, their number was called. “Let’s hit it!”
    Tony gassed it and squealed down the road. When he came to the intersection, he slowed at the entrance. “Which way?”
    “Take a left.” Picking up the mike, Delta responded to dispatch and jotted down some note without looking up. “Take the next left,” she commanded.
    Without hesitating, Tony swung the patrol car to the left and avoided a cat scurrying across the street. “What’s the call? I totally missed it.”
    “There’s a 4-15 on North Austin Street. Neighbors heard glass breaking from inside the house. Step on it, will you?” As soon as she said those words, Delta regretted it. In a flash, Tony pushed the accelerator to the floor and peeled down the street.
    “Slow down, for God’s sake! You trying to get us killed?” Feeling the car slow down a bit, Delta picked up the mike and double checked the address. If it was the house she thought it was, the trouble could be far greater than a domestic quarrel.
    “This is S1012, checking on that address for the 4-1-5. Is that 4691?”
    “S1012, that’s a 10-4. Neighbors say a blue Toyota Corolla is parked in the driveway and that they could hear screaming and crying coming from inside the house.”
    “10-4. We’re two away. Send a back-up unit.”
    Knuckles white on the steering wheel, Tony Carducci inhaled loudly. “Back-up for a lousy family feud? What for?”
    “Okay, Carducci,” Delta said, leveling her gaze on the side of his face. “Lesson number two. Never, and I mean never underestimate your suspect or the circumstances.”
    “Yeah, but—”
    “But nothing. Do you realize how many cops are killed during domestic violence? Didn’t they give you those stats at the academy?”
    “Yeah, but—”
    “Then you should have them engraved on your mind. Four-fifteens may not seem dangerous, but they are. Period. You approach them just as if you were approaching a burglary in progress. You know why?” Delta didn’t wait for him to answer. “Because nine times out of ten, when we step in to keep some asshole from whacking his wife, she’s the one who turns on us. More wives have shot at or tried to stab cops than you can imagine. I don’t intend on being one of the stats you clearly didn’t pay attention to.”
    Tony opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it.
    “Anyway, a little over two years ago, my partner busted the husband at this same address for beating up his wife. She was one of the few women