by Misty Simon
* * *
I had always seen two-way mirrors in movies. They were a standard in any cop drama. Seeing them from the inside was a different experience. One I was not happy about in the least.
There was only me and Hammond in the room, so either he was both the good cop and the bad cop, or maybe just the bad without the counterpart.
I warned myself not to forget that for some reason he did not like me. Had this been Burton I might have had a better chance. We’d always bantered even as I’d pissed him off by doing whatever I wanted. And I’d done whatever I’d had to do since I had needed to get him to take me seriously several times in the last year. He’d come through grumbling, yet he was still open to my ideas when I threw them on the table.
This guy was another story. One I didn’t want to hear. In other words, the man across from me was a whole different animal.
His eyes were narrowed and his jaw firmly clenched. I would get no quarter here. It would benefit me greatly to remember that. Maybe I should have made my one call to Burton. At least then I might have had a hope in hell of getting out of this unscathed.
Since the time for the decision was way past, I now needed to think about how I was going to handle Hammond.
Did I want to rail and tell him to get me out of here pronto because he knew I hadn’t broken into Eli St. James’s office? Yes, absolutely, but once I saw his fist clench on his pen to the point where he almost broke it, I knew it was a bad approach.
Of course I knew it before, but I had been trying to talk myself into it. The angst started the moment he’d walked in the station’s back door right by my cell without making eye contact, and then made me wait an additional forty-five minutes before he came to see me. There wasn’t another soul here except the drunken guy who was happily snoring away on a cot.
I opened my mouth to say hello, and he nailed me with a glare.
“Don’t say a word. I let you sit in the cell for so long because I wanted to make sure I didn’t come in after you and start shouting.”
Okay, so bad cop with a tinge of good? With a want to be good but not quite pulling it off? I wasn’t sure, but I really felt that keeping my mouth shut just this once would serve me best. I didn’t even nod to acknowledge that I’d heard him.
“Nothing to say?”
I also resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Hadn’t he just told me not to say a word? Now he was berating me for not talking? What the heck? But I didn’t fall for it. I simply shook my head.
“Well, you must really know you’re in trouble and don’t want to piss me off. I’m not Burton, am I? Good thing you know that.” He leaned back in his chair with some kind of folder as if he had all the time in the world. And why wouldn’t he when he wasn’t out chasing me around, or any of the real bad guys, for that matter?
That thought I also kept to myself.
“So, I have that the officer found your car outside the strip mall and then saw you exiting the building with no lights on. Is that correct?”
“Yes, but . . .”
“Just answer the questions with yes or no. No additional conversation.”
Good God, did he know what he was asking? He absolutely did. There was no misinterpreting how he looked pissed enough to send me back into the cell without letting me say another word. There, he would let me only sing the jailhouse blues if I didn’t play along.
I felt sick to my stomach, the desire to dry heave almost overwhelming me. I should have called my dad, or even Mama Shirley, and asked them to intervene for me here. Burton came to mind, again, and it took all I had not to go ahead and ask for my phone call now. I’d lay down odds that even with a pissed-off Burton, this would not have been so bad.
“Yes,” I said in response to his statement about one-word answers, just in case he needed proof that I was willing to follow his directives. For now.
“And then when you went back in, you had knowledge of right where the filing cabinets were?”
“Yes.” I clamped my mouth shut after the short word. That way I wouldn’t expound about anything else, like Marianne being there, or how I didn’t know until she told me. I was not going to sign a statement that did not have those things in it, though. He’d just have to get over himself.
“And then you tried to leave through the back door even though the officer was right behind you?’
“No.” There was a ton of vehemence behind that one word. I seethed and seethed that he would think I would do something like that. If Matt had told him that, then I was going to bean him at the first opportunity.
Hammond looked up finally. I’m sure he could see that I was barely leashing myself, but he went back to his paper as if I hadn’t looked ready to jump across the table.
“And you say you were there with the secretary? The one you were caught with the other day in the same office?”
“Yes and yes.”
“I think that’s all.” He stood and turned toward the door.
I, of course, exploded out of my metal chair like a hound of hell. “You have got to be kidding me! That’s it? That’s all. You just want me to sit here like a docile little doll and answer your stupid questions without also telling you that Marianne called me and invited me down. I can show you her cell phone number in my phone. She also dialed the voicemail and played a bunch of messages that were threats to Eli. She was the one who told me where the filing cabinets were. When I left they were locked and closed. I was going to call the station in the morning and see if you could get a warrant to search the premises with the new information Marianne gave me. I don’t know why she didn’t tell you.”
He turned back around, so I drew in a breath and rammed head-on.
“I do know why she didn’t tell you, because you’re a jerk and don’t listen to anything that doesn’t go along with what you want. You’re perfectly willing to feed me to the craft wolves and get me a hobby, but you don’t believe me, and you probably never will. Go, Officer Hammond, go type up your report about my answers and make sure to bring me it with a red pen because I’m going to mark that thing up until you think your poor little eyes are bleeding.”
He stared at me for a few seconds while I let my chest heave. “You done now?”
“Yes, let me go back to my cell and sit there. I’ll call my mother in the morning and have her pick me up unless you feel the need to keep me.”
“Fine.”
“Not fine,” Burton said from the door I had not heard open during my tirade.
Hammond and I stared at each other for one full minute. I didn’t know whether to be pleased that Burton was here or scared that now I would have two people against me, both police officers, both capable of charging me with a crime I hadn’t committed. Burton had asked me to look into things, of course. That didn’t mean he’d stand up for me when I was in trouble. Like now.
“Hammond, you’re excused.” Burton never took his eyes off me.
“Sir, you’re on administrative leave and have no say here.”
“This is still my station, so I do have a say. I will finish this interview. You go home. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“But . . .” He trailed off when Burton focused his gaze on him. So, I wasn’t the only one who faltered under that laser-sharp, silent reprimand.
“I’ll go, but this is my case. I will not have anyone mess it up.”
Those sounded like fighting words to me. And to Burton, too, if his narrowed eyes and pulsing vein in his neck were any indication.
Even I wouldn’t have gone that far. That was saying something.
Burton and I both waited for Hammond to get up from the table and make his way out the door. Burton held out his hand for the folder, and the hesitation from Hammond caused a tension that could have been cut like a hot knife through ice cold butter. Finally, he handed it over and left with a grunt. Burton placed a call to the front desk, then waited until he had confirmation that Hammond had left before sitting down across from me.
“You know what, Tallie, y
ou are one of the most frustrating and complex people I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet and watch grow up.” He perused the paperwork in front of him that I so desperately wanted to see.
“I wasn’t doing what that report says I was doing.”
“Let’s wait and see what is here.” He kept reading, his lips moving but no sounds coming out.
The suspense was killing me. Was he going to drill me with the same questions? Not let me answer as Hammond had done? Why wouldn’t he just say something? Anything!
Chapter Twelve
After what felt like an eternity but was really probably only two minutes, Burton looked up. “I’m surprised at your short answers. I always seemed to have to listen to you ramble. Here you only go with yes or no.”
I straightened in my chair, folding my hands on the scarred table. “I was very specifically told to only give yes or no, and he looked like he might gladly have me shot at dawn if I didn’t comply.”
He scoffed. “Come on now, Tallie. Hammond can be tough, but he wouldn’t have had you shot at dawn.”
“That’s not what his body language was saying.”
Tilting his head to the left, he studied me. “So, if my body language was harsher do you think you’d listen to me, too?”
“Nope,” I said, finally feeling at least a little bit safer with the knowledge that, though Burton and I might not always see eye to eye, he usually came around to my way of thinking. Eventually.
“So, tell me what happened.” Sitting back, he seemed to settle in for a long story.
I wasn’t sure why I had to do this, since he was the one who had asked me to look into it. But if it was for the record, to go against my one-word answers to Hammond, then I was willing to play along. I gave him the rundown from the beginning, all the way back to falling off the ladder after finding Eli St. James dead and staring sightlessly from the bed. Burton grunted, blew out his breath a few times, and once made a disgusted noise, but he mostly stayed silent as he let me get the whole story out. I was impressed and grateful, but also still baffled why he was acting like this was all new to him when he knew what had happened.
Or I was baffled until he responded. Then I was befuddled.
“That’s a pretty impressive tale and a little hard to believe.”
And my balloon was popped. Of course it was. Why had I truly thought he was going to give me permission to look into this, effectively begging me to be his eyes on the ground? It wasn’t the first time he’d turned tail on me. “And yet that’s how it happened.” I waited for his response. I’d been doing a good job for the most part and I wanted to continue to help, but he had to believe me first.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He shook his head at me.
“Seriously, I have to know.”
Again with the headshaking. This time he also added some hand gestures. With his hand resting on the wooden table, he curled his fingers and thrust his palm out at me as if he was aiming to break my nose. I scooted back in my chair. Next, he made a fist, then crossed his fingers before giving me a thumbs-up. What the heck?
He wanted to break my nose, punch me, go back on his promise, but I was doing a good job?
“Can I go now?” I had a headache and was done playing games.
“I’ll walk you out.” He tugged at his ear, then put his finger next to his right eye.
Tallie, out.
“I don’t think that’s necessary. I can find my way out.”
And if he was under the impression I wasn’t going to take him to task for messing with me, he was sadly mistaken. It wouldn’t be now, where he could easily throw me back into the slammer, but it would be soon. And I knew it would be brutal.
Looking into these things by myself when I had something at stake was one thing, but doing them when Burton asked and then being put on the headsman’s block and threatened with hand gestures was not something I appreciated. In the least. Wretched, wretched man!
He obviously did not take my not-so-subtle hint that I wanted away from him and fast when he rose as I did. He held the door for me. It took all I had to stay the urge to bring on the violence. I almost kicked him in the shins, just because I could. But the cells were right outside the door, so I put one foot in front of another instead of up his lying, manipulating rear end.
We passed Suzy, who gave me a sad smile, and Matt, who looked like he was going to say something before he clamped his mouth shut. Fine, give me the walk of shame when I’d done nothing wrong. I had been freaking asked to look into things. By the very man who was following me on my walk of shame, dammit!
Burton and I made it out the front door. I was about to take off at a run when Burton rested his hand on my arm.
I tried to shake him off, but he held on. Chalk up one more deduction of points for my least favorite person at the moment. At least Hammond was direct about being a jerk. Burton had snowed me quietly, and I was not taking it well.
“I’m not doubting you,” Burton said. I snorted but he rolled right over the sound. “Come on, Tallie. I was getting the facts so I could have Matt call this Marianne and find out her side of the story. I couldn’t say I wasn’t pissed about what you’re doing, even though I know you’ve been asked to stop it. I have to maintain neutrality, but you always have good information, no matter how you get it. I have to keep Hammond off-balance or he’ll tromp all over everything.”
“What was with the gestures? The punching hands?” I unbent long enough to ask.
“Girl, I know you took sign language in third grade. I taught it to you myself. I was trying to tell you there are eyes and ears in the room. I can’t appear to be asking you to do this.”
Was I supposed to say thank you after sitting in that tiny room, not knowing if I was going to be released or not? I wouldn’t do it.
“I’m not going to be able to help much with this one, Tallie.” Burton looked back at the building with his arms crossed. “Hammond was right that I’m out on leave and have little authority until I get back. I don’t know what he’s doing, but I have a couple of people watching him just in case. He’s not without his skeletons in the closet, if you know what I mean.”
And now I had another person to look up on the internet. Or I could ask Matt once I got over being mad at him for arresting me and putting me in a freaking jail cell. My mom and his mom were going to be talking about that for days.
“And what am I supposed to do?” I asked, still wondering what was going on here. “I can’t just sit back and hope that Hammond gets a clue. Someone murdered that man. Rhoda now has a murder scene that she cleaned and has a person due to stay in the room in a few days. All evidence is ruined because of your replacement. Someone left that room as I fell off the ladder. Hammond doesn’t want to know that. He’s walking a very thin line on some pretty shady stuff. There has to be a story there. The bad guy who did this needs to be caught. What if they think I saw him and come after me next?”
“I did think of that, contrary to what you believe about me. And so I’m going to make you a deal.”
A deal? This was new. What would it entail? I was almost afraid to ask, but it almost sounded like Burton really was on my side. Wouldn’t that be a nice change?
“I’m going to let you go. If you could, in some way, get ahold of this Marianne, then we could bring her in and ask her to verify why she left and if she actually did leave with the files you think were in the cabinet. That way we get you off altogether. It’s standard protocol to put anyone suspected of committing a crime into the cell for their protection and for ours. I can’t bend the rules. I’m not bending them now when I let you walk out under your own steam. You don’t have to call your mom or anyone else unless you want to. Up to you.” He took a step back. He turned to walk back into the station, then turned back around. “Let me know when you get in touch with Marianne. We’ll go pick her up. And you might want to take Gina with you from now on, just to make sure you have someone else who went through the whole thing with yo
u and can vouch for you.”
Okay, I’d said my balloon was popped before, but now I felt like the balloon that had burst and then got caught on the bottom of someone’s shoe with dirty bubble gum. Yeah, not the best feeling. I was being given freedom but being chastised for not doing the smart thing at the same time.
Although, there was one thing I did need to clarify before he walked away. “So, you believe me?”
“I can’t confirm or deny that until we speak with Marianne. Let’s just say that if I truly believed you had broken into Eli’s office, you’d be back behind the bars instead of wandering around out on the streets. Keep in touch. I won’t be able to help much, but if you share your information with me, maybe we can see why Hammond is so bent on destroying you. And why he refuses to look at this as anything more than a natural death.” With that he turned around again and left me standing in the parking lot.
* * *
To say that Gina was not pleased with my decisions the night before would have been a gross understatement. She’d yelled, cursed, and then finally asked for all the details. I gave them to her and she shook her head over scones and regular coffee. None of that fluffy seven-name stuff for me this morning. I had things to do and people I needed to do them.
“If you’re done I think we need a battle plan.”
“Of course we do. Let me get a sticky bun.” She set down a plate between us at the front counter. There were a few people in the shop, but this was a downtime and most of the ones here were hard of hearing. Besides, at this point, I didn’t care who heard. Maybe more people would keep their eyes out for Eli’s murderer and now Marianne, who I had not been able to get ahold of.
I took a napkin from the dispenser and a pencil and began making a list. “We need to find Marianne, and I’d like Matt to look into the other contractor. I’m going to ask Uncle Sherman to get a feel for Eli’s brother. As the city’s fire chief, he knows the players. I don’t want to give that to Burton, or Hammond, without first making sure my story sticks. I’m done with being doubted.”
