Never the Crime

by Colin Conway

  Hatcher smirked. “People always have something to say. You know where I stand.”

  “Fuck ’em, right?”

  Zielinski’s reply reminded her of Patterson’s same attitude at the bar last night. “Exactly,” she said. “If those people spent more time doing their jobs than gossiping like a bunch of old hens, there’d be no crime in this city.”

  “In my experience, the roosters gossip worse than the hens,” he said.

  “It’s all clucking to me, and it gives me the same headache.”

  Zielinski pulled open the door. “Watch out for yourself, Cap. You’re with the brass now, and that’s through the looking glass.”

  “I know.”

  “You should’ve stayed a sergeant.”

  “I should’ve been a firefighter.”

  Zielinski laughed. “That’s my line.” He gave her a short wave and left the office.

  Hatcher finished her coffee, which was now tepid. She jotted down a note to call Internal Affairs so she wouldn’t forget. She’d call after her headache was gone. Meanwhile, she pulled out her notes for the strike team idea she’d told Farrell about, and got to work buffing out the rough edges.

  CHAPTER 15

  His wife waited on the doorstep as Tyler Garrett walked up with the kids. She wore yoga pants, a Lululemon sweatshirt, and a WSU baseball hat. Her hands were on her hips and her lips were pursed. She made no attempt to hide her irritation.

  Garrett leaned down to his daughter and said, “Go hug Mommy.”

  Molly ran ahead of him, her little legs churning wildly as she laughed.

  Jake, his son, looked up at him. “I told you she would be mad.”

  “It’s all right,” Garrett said.

  As he got within speaking distance, he could hear Angie Garrett say, “Go inside, Molly, I need to speak with your father.”

  Jake reached up and put his hand in his father’s.

  “Jake,” Angie said. “Inside.”

  “I wanna stay with dad for some more.”

  “Now!” Angie yelled.

  Garrett leaned over and hugged his son. “Go inside. It’s okay.”

  When they broke their embrace, Jake hurried inside. Angie reached back and closed the door. “Where the hell have you been, Tyler?”

  “I was with the kids. You know that.”

  “You were supposed to have them back before four.”

  “So, I’m a little late. What’s the big deal?”

  “It’s four-thirty. That’s more than a little late.”

  “C’mon, Angie. We were having fun. Where’s the harm?”

  “The harm? Really? The harm is that you’re not following the plan. I’m trying to work around your crazy schedule, but you never pay attention to what we’ve agreed to. You do what you want, when you want, and who pays the price? Me and the kids. We pay the price. Not you. No, not Tyler Garrett. You never pay the price.”

  “I took the kids to McDonald’s. You said I could do that. They were having fun.”

  Angie looked away and shook her head.

  “I’m trying, Ang. I’m really trying. I just wanted to see them having a good time.”

  She faced her husband. “Did they eat all their food?”

  “Yeah. They ate good.”

  “Next time, would you text or something? Let me know you’re going to be late?”

  Garrett nodded. “Yeah, I will.”

  She lowered her head and looked at her running shoes.

  “Angie.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Why? You know how I feel.”

  “I don’t feel that way anymore. Not ever again.”

  “What would it take? What would it take to for us to be like we were?”

  “It’s not happening, Ty. Just agree to the divorce and let’s move on with our lives.”

  “But I still love you, Angie.”

  She turned and opened the front door. “Text next time you’re going to be late.” Then she stepped inside and closed the door, leaving Garrett alone on the sidewalk.

  He wasn’t supposed to start work for a couple hours. He had asked for some personal time before his shift started. Not feeling the need to hurry home nor to head into the department to start his shift, Garrett drove toward downtown. He quickly found a spot in a parking lot. The building was open to the public and he took the elevator up to the sixth floor where he rang the doorbell.

  Tiana Kennedy opened the door, a look of surprise on her face. “Officer Garrett?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She wore a cream-colored sweater, green pants, and green hiking boots.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Your insurance card,” he said, holding it up. “I must have dropped it in my car after I stopped you.”

  Tiana smiled. “You dropped it?”

  Garrett nodded. “Yeah, I dropped it.”

  “I think that has my work address on it.” She grabbed the card. “Yeah, that’s the work address, but you came here.”

  “Your driver’s license shows here.”

  “You wrote down my address?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Officer Garrett, did you keep that insurance card so you would have a reason to come here?”

  He smiled. “What if I did?”

  Tiana pushed the door open. “Well, then, don’t stand out there.”

  CHAPTER 16

  His day had been a total loss.

  The lack of sleep coupled with the early morning meeting with the chief had sent it on an awkward trajectory. Stone hid out in his office most of the day. No one had called him from the department and he didn’t receive any mail that required immediate follow-up. He had other duties beyond those at city hall, but Stone decided what he needed most was to be left alone, to reset his attitude.

  The only bright spot was when Jean Carter stopped by to talk and laugh for a few minutes about her recent blind date. The two friends had reached an unspoken agreement to pretend their exchange in the lobby had never happened. That was the beauty of a long friendship—easy forgiveness. On a day like today, Stone was glad for such gifts. Other than Jean’s visit, though, nothing was accomplished except pretending to work. Now that it was almost five, Stone powered down his computer and prepared to leave. He couldn’t wait to get home, maybe go for a run, and get to bed early.

  As he walked by the seventh-floor receptionist desk, he heard Mayor Sikes call out, “Gary! Hey, Gary!”

  Stone stopped and turned, his stomach roiling.

  Sikes walked over. His tie was crooked, and his hair mussed. It was the normal end-of-day appearance for the mayor.

  He put his hand on Stone’s shoulder. “You look like death on a cracker.”

  “Bad night of sleep, sir.”

  “Been there. You married? Girlfriend?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Get yourself a girl. That’ll take care of the sleeplessness.” Sikes winked at him. “Know what I mean?”

  The mayor looked around, then wrapped his arm around Stone’s shoulders. He guided him behind the receptionist desk, out of sight of most passersby. He leaned in and asked, “What did you find?”

  Stone stepped back from the mayor. “About what?”

  “About the letter, of course.”

  “What letter?”

  “Gary, don’t play dumb with me.”

  Stone nodded. “Right. Yeah. The letter. The threatening one to Councilman Hahn, right? Yeah, well, we investigated it. The guy was your classic one-oh-five, that’s department jargon for crazy person. Nothing to be concerned with, your honor.”

  Sikes grinned. “You sneaky bastard.”

  Stone’s eyes widened. “Sir?”

  “You think you can shine me on, don’t you? That you’re some kind of special.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

  “Of course, you don’t. Just keep shining me on, the
n.”

  Stone remained silent.

  “Gary, you like it here, don’t you? I mean, in city hall.”

  He didn’t like the smile on the mayor’s face. It was no longer jovial, and his eyes were hard. Stone opened his mouth to answer, but the mayor cut him off.

  “It’s fun and exciting to be around everything going on, isn’t it? Trust me, I love it. That’s why I ran for a second term. I can’t get enough of it. You like being near the action. I can see it in your eyes.”

  Stone didn’t try to answer this time as he now had trouble swallowing. It was just like college again.

  “You know you’re in city hall at my pleasure, don’t you? My pleasure. You’re smart enough to have figured that out on your own, right? I didn’t need to tell you that.”

  The mayor’s smile wasn’t right, Gary decided. Normal people don’t smile like that.

  “The chief serves at my pleasure, too. You serve at his. Everything rolls downhill. Get it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Here’s my problem. I see you getting a lot of benefit from being inside city hall, but I don’t see any bump from having you here.”

  Stone’s eyes searched for an escape. There was none. No one else was coming to his rescue.

  “I’m sure the chief gets a bump having you here. You know what I mean by that, right? Bump.”

  He focused on that ugly smile and nodded.

  “So you give the chief his bump. Maybe you can give me a bump? What do you say? That sounds fair, right?”

  Stone tried to swallow but he couldn’t.

  “You get something. Baumgartner gets something. I should get something. That way we all get a bump. Nod if you agree.”

  Stone nodded again.

  “So, Gary, does Baumgartner got you working on any special projects?”

  “What do you mean, sir?”

  “Back to shining me on, Gary? I thought I just explained how that wasn’t going to help you.”

  “Well—”

  “I know about the letter, dumbass.”

  “Sir?”

  “The Hahn letter. Not the threat, the one from the girl. Don’t be so obtuse, Gary. You know it came to my office and I gave it to the chief. Not telling me what you know just makes you out to be a dumbass who doesn’t understand how things work. Are you a dumbass, Gary?”

  Stone winced.

  “You see how easy it would have been for us to build trust here? Instead, you lied and avoided telling me what I needed to know. You wimped out.”

  Stone opened his mouth to speak but realized there was really nothing to say. He closed his mouth and stared at the mayor.

  “Next time, man up, Gary. Choose your path and own it. You want to be the politician’s best friend, then start acting like it. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” Stone whispered. “I understand.”

  “Then, by God, grow a pair,” Sikes said before stalking back to his office.

  CHAPTER 17

  Tyler Garrett leaned his head back against his car seat and closed his eyes. He thought he could still smell Tiana’s lotion on him. He knew it was a trick of his mind since he’d taken a shower once he’d gotten to the department.

  The police radio chattered, but Garrett paid it little attention. His mind was on Tiana.

  He’d gone there hoping to start something, but not expecting it to be what it became. The images played through his mind and a smile touched his lips.

  He had some other things to take care of on his shift tonight, but maybe if things broke right, he could go back and see her again. If not, well, there was always tomorrow. She had even asked him as much.

  “Charlie three sixteen.”

  Garrett’s smile faded, and he opened his eyes. He was parked behind an industrial building on East Sprague Avenue.

  He lifted the microphone from its cradle. “Three sixteen.”

  “Three sixteen,” the dispatcher called back, “please see the call I just sent to your screen.”

  Garrett’s eyes shifted to his mobile data computer. The screen lit up and he saw the call heading. Suicide. The address was far north, though, and he was a south unit.

  “Three sixteen,” he called.

  “Sixteen,” the dispatcher acknowledged. “Go ahead.”

  “Confirm, you’re sending me north.”

  “Sixteen, that’s confirmed.” The dispatcher sounded slightly irritated. “All north units are currently engaged.”

  “Copy,” he said and returned the microphone to its cradle.

  He quickly read the initial incident report. A young woman in the Indian Trails neighborhood had been found unresponsive. The fire department had already responded and pronounced her dead.

  Seventeen years old, Garrett thought, as he dropped his car into gear.

  Bethany Rabe lay in her bed. She was cold to the touch. Her lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling where a Twilight movie poster hung. Garrett craned his neck and looked at the poster. Vampires, he thought, and sniffed dismissively.

  The girl wore a black T-shirt that said, Baby Metal. Her miniskirt was a green-and-black plaid. She wore holey black leggings underneath with black Converse tennis shoes.

  An empty bottle of sleeping pills sat on the nightstand. A plastic bag that she had tied around her head was on the table. It had been removed by the responding paramedics.

  Garrett moved the plastic bag with his pen to read the title of the book underneath. Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher. Wasn’t that a book about suicide? Garrett wondered. He made a note to research it further.

  A marker stuck out from the middle of the book which caught his attention. Garrett leaned down to examine it closer. On its corner was a little blue badge. It was a symbol he was very familiar with as he had the same graphic on his own business card. Garrett slowly slid the card from the book, read the officer’s name on the card, then tucked it into his notebook.

  His eyes continued to scan the room but didn’t see a suicide note. He walked back into the living room where Bethany’s parents sat, each on an opposite end of the couch.

  Lorraine Rabe’s bob haircut, knit sweater, and polyester pants made her appear older than she was. She crossed her legs and fiddled with an unlit cigarette. Mascara streaked down from her eyes.

  Donald Rabe wore blue jeans and a flannel shirt. His salt-and-pepper hair was shaggy for a man of his age. He was hunched over with his head in his hands.

  They both looked up expectantly when Garrett entered the room. He had offered to call a chaplain to sit with them during their time of grief. Both declined the offer. Lorraine cited something about God not being there when she needed him and Donald replied, “It’s not going to help now.” Garrett didn’t try to convince them that it would help. He wanted to get past this call and on with his night. He had other things to do, one of them being getting back to Tiana.

  “Was there a note?” he asked.

  “A note?” Lorraine said. “What kind of note?”

  “No,” Donald said, with a look disbelief toward his wife. “She didn’t leave a note and we don’t know why she did it. We loved our daughter.”

  Lorraine nodded in agreement.

  “Had she tried something like this before?” Garrett asked.

  “God, no,” Donald said. He glanced at Lorraine.

  Lorraine turned her hands up slightly. “Not that we ever saw.”

  “Did she have a history of mental illness?”

  Donald whispered, “No,” while Lorraine muttered, “None.”

  “Was she having any problems at school?”

  The parents looked at each other, then shook their heads.

  “What about a boyfriend? Did she have one?”

  “I don’t think so,” Donald said.

  “She might have been gay,” Lorraine said.

  “She wasn’t gay,” the father said, exasperated.

  “How do you know?” Lorraine bawled. “Mayb
e that’s why she did this. Maybe she was hurting inside because we hadn’t accepted her.”

  “She did this because, well, shit, I don’t know why she would do this.” Donald bent over and put his head back into his hands.

  “So,” Garrett said, “girlfriend?”

  Lorraine put the unlit cigarette in her mouth but took it quickly out. “She has a friend,” she said. “Little Oriental girl.”

  “Asian,” Donald said, his head still in his hands. “The girl is Asian.”

  “You’re correcting me now, Donny? Really? Now?”

  Donald lifted his head, his face covered in tears. He looked at his wife and lifted his hands in defeat. “What the fuck you want from me, Lori?”

  “This girl,” Garrett said, directing their attention back to him. “The Asian one. Where does she live?”

  Lorraine thumbed toward the east. “Three doors down. Her name is Ikuko. You can’t miss her. She’s the only Oriental in the neighborhood.”

  Garrett waited inside the house until a corporal arrived to photograph the scene, documenting everything.

  He requested a detective but had no idea how long a response would take. Radio advised that one had been called out and was supposedly on the way.

  The natural death of an elderly person, or even a middle-aged man with questionable health, would not need the response of a detective. However, the suicide of teenaged girl demanded it. Any suicide did.

  Regardless, waiting around irritated Garrett, especially having to listen to Rabe’s dysfunctional parents.

  While the corporal worked, Garrett stepped out onto the porch, into the darkness of the night. He needed some fresh air and privacy to make a phone call or two. On the sidewalk, in a red ski parka that seemed overkill for a spring night, stood a small teenager. He looked closer and could determine her ethnicity. His phone calls would have to wait.

  As he walked down the front stairs, the girl turned to leave.

  “Hey,” Garrett yelled. “Are you Ikuko?”

  The girl stopped and looked back. “Who wants to know?”

  “Officer Garrett. Spokane Police Department.”