Risk Assessment

by Parker St John

  “Detective Nilsson, PPB.” The woman gave his hand a brisk shake, which was actually refreshing. In his experience, most cops didn’t like to shake hands. He’d thought it was a power thing until a guard had once explained that it trapped them and limited their mobility if they were attacked. He supposed that made sense.

  “May I ask what’s going on here?” Elliot asked politely.

  “Your client is under arrest, Mr. Smith,” the detective said wryly, and a muscle twitched at the corner of Elliot’s mouth. Lucas was certain he was restraining himself from calling her a smartass.

  “What are the charges?”

  “Armed robbery and murder one.”

  “That’s bullshit!” Julio took an impulsive step forward, only to be yanked to an immediate halt by the cops restraining him. “I didn’t do nothing, I swear it! I ain’t never letting my grams down like that again. You’ve got to believe me, Mr. Kelly. Don’t fire me!”

  Lucas studied him thoughtfully. The kid looked scared and nervous, but that meant jack shit. There was plenty to be scared about when you got caught. Lucas remembered that feeling all too well. The pleading in Julio’s big brown eyes meant nothing. Whenever someone found themselves staring down the barrel of a conviction, they all turned into children looking for anyone to give them a last minute reprieve before they got sent to bed without supper.

  The kid had probably done it. He was desperate for cash and still lived in the hood, surrounded by buddies that were walking a road that ended with a bullet. But Lucas had gotten to know Julio the past couple weeks, and he was good at reading people. He always had been, and prison had only honed the ability. Julio was a good kid. Good kids still made mistakes, but Julio wasn’t dumb. Or at least he wasn’t any dumber than any other kid his age. He had a good job and a chance at overturning his previous conviction. He wasn’t going to risk all that for some quick cash.

  “I believe you,” he said simply.

  One of the uniforms rolled his eyes.

  Detective Nilsson asked pleasantly, “May I ask why he has an attorney already? I don’t see that too often in my line of work.”

  “I’ve been working on overturning a previous conviction for him.”

  “Ah.” She gave him a look of genuine regret. “Not to be Debbie Downer, but I don’t think that’s going to happen, Mr. Smith.”

  Elliot’s jaw worked.

  “Are you taking him to MCDC?” Lucas interrupted. When Lucas was arrested, he’d been processed through the county’s maximum security detention center, and no matter how good Julio was at fronting, Lucas couldn’t help fearing they would eat him alive there.

  Nilsson pursed her carefully lipsticked mouth and turned a thoughtful look on Julio. “I’ll process him through Inverness.” There was a note of empathy in her tone, and Lucas was grateful. It wouldn’t be a cake walk, but at least he wouldn’t be housed with the most violent offenders.

  “I’ll follow you down,” Elliot said.

  “Hold up, Mr. S.” Julio dragged his feet as the officers directed him toward their vehicles, and Lucas watched the flicker of annoyance cross their faces. “Can you stay with my grams for a while? They were searching for murder weapons and junk. It upset her. Just make sure she ain’t scared, okay?” Julio spoke rapidly as he was towed toward the cruisers.

  “We’ll stay with her,” Elliot promised. “Cooperate, but don’t say a word until I get down there.”

  Detective Nilsson sighed. “You know where we’ll be. Come along, Mr. Gonzalez. Your ride is waiting.”

  15

  Lucas

  Elena Rodriguez Espinosa had been hard tested by life. Her petite frame was hunched and twisted, her hair like a wispy cloud around a face that was wreathed in too many wrinkles to tell if they were from frowning or smiling. But she had been stunning once. Lucas couldn’t take his eyes off the black and white portrait of her that hung over a tattered corduroy sofa in the living room. A filmy veil partially covered her glossy, black hair. Her lips were plump and dark, and her eyes sparkled even in monochrome. She looked like she belonged on the silver screen.

  “You stop staring at that and come sit down,” she ordered in lightly accented English, flapping a dish towel and herding him into the kitchen.

  Elliot already sat at the small dinette table with a cup of coffee at his elbow. The intense agitation he’d displayed on the drive over was nowhere to be seen. His expression was smooth, his body language one of complete control. Lucas wondered if that was something they taught at law school or if it was a confidence that came from never experiencing the suffering of the clients he worked with every day.

  He was aware that his emotions had skewed toward resentful ever since the encounter with Greg, but he didn’t have time to focus on that at the moment.

  “I’m just trying to figure out if I need your autograph,” he said to the old woman as he pulled out the chair beside Elliot.

  She tittered as if he’d said something ridiculous and poured a packet of instant coffee into a mug. He felt a moment of apprehension as she carefully poured boiling water over the mixture. Her arthritic fingers shook from the weight of the dented kettle.

  “I never lived in Hollywood,” she said with a big smile. “But I did live in San Diego when I was a young woman. My husband crossed the border looking for work. He did not want me to follow, but I had a dream. In this dream, God told me he had other plans for us. My husband was angry, but I told him: I obey God, not you. He could not argue with that.”

  “When did you move to Oregon?” Elliot asked. His tone was deep and mellifluous, calming in a way that even relaxed Lucas’s shoulders, despite it not being directed toward him. Elliot patted the table in a friendly gesture that might have been invitation or command.

  Julio’s grandmother offered him a trembling smile and took a seat, her gnarled hands cupped around a mug of her own. “That was after my husband died. California was so expensive. People told me Oregon would be better.”

  “Was it?”

  She shrugged, the gesture strangely elegant on her bony shoulders. “I was a single mother who did not speak very good English. I had no family to help me. I do not think any place would have been easy for me.”

  Lucas felt a pang deep in his chest. His sister had become a single mother at seventeen. As far back as he could remember, his father had drilled it into his head that it was his duty to watch over her. That chivalry thing again. He’d done his best, but there had barely been a family to hold on to once their dad died. He’d been the glue that held them together. Once he was gone, both Lucas and Trish had spent as little time under their mother’s roof as possible.

  Lucas had already been incarcerated by the time she gave birth. After their mother died, Trish had moved to Sacramento with a boyfriend, and that was that. He’d never even met his little niece. He had his sister’s phone number, and she had his, but they just… never used them. Lucas wondered if she blamed him for how difficult her life had turned out.

  She’d been a pretty girl, like Elena, but fair instead of dark. It was impossible for Lucas to imagine her with wrinkles from hard living on her sweet face, even though he already had a blueprint of what she would look like in the memory of his mother.

  Every once in a while, he was tempted to pick up the phone, but a single fear always held him back. What if the reason she didn’t call him was because she was ashamed? What if, despite everything, she’d managed to make something decent of her life? What if she was afraid to have an ex-con around her baby girl?

  Lucas never did make that call, and the more time that passed, the more it felt like it was too late.

  “Your English is excellent now,” Elliot complimented, drawing his attention back to the present.

  “I worked hard to learn. My son needed a mother who could speak for him. So did my grandson.”

  “Has Julio lived with you long?”

  “All his life. His mother died from the drugs when he was just a baby. My son has been in prison for
almost fifteen years. We are all we have. I know my Julio is a good boy.”

  Lucas didn’t have much to contribute, but the tears making her eyes glassy prompted him to speak up. He cleared his throat. “He’s a hard worker. New guys at the garage always get the shi— the worst jobs, but he hasn’t complained even once.”

  Elena sniffed tearfully and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. “He is a good boy,” she repeated.

  “Do you have any idea what happened today?” Elliot asked gently.

  “No! They say he robbed a store. It is ridiculous! Why would he rob a store? He did not need money. He has a good job now.”

  Lucas winced. Elliot looked at him askance, so he felt compelled to explain, “He asked to borrow some money a couple days ago.”

  Elliot’s dark eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  “Why should I?” Lucas said defensively. “I’m his employer. It was between him and me.”

  “How much did he borrow?”

  “A couple hundred. It wasn’t an unusual request, considering I hired him between pay periods. I know what it’s like trying to survive on nothing.”

  Only the ticking muscle in his jaw revealed Elliot’s annoyance. “Did he say what it was for?”

  Lucas studied Elena and debated his answer. Eventually, he said, “He told me his grandmother needed some special meds.”

  “He borrowed money for me? Stupid boy! He is not too old to spank!” Elena was stiff with anger, but Elliot swiftly caught her arthritic hand in his own before she could bang it on the table in her outrage. He gently curled his large fingers over her thin, fragile ones and cradled her hand in both of his palms.

  “Have you gotten new medication recently?” he asked.

  “No! I do not need more. The insurance company, it only allows one pill per day. I save them for when I need them.”

  Shit. There had always been the chance that he was being fed a line, but Lucas hadn’t cared enough to examine it closely. It hadn’t mattered, seeing how the advance was being taken out of Julio’s next paycheck. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “He said Medicare wouldn’t authorize the kind you need, so he had to pay out of pocket.”

  “Is that true?” Elliot asked kindly.

  “Yes.” Elena scowled, and Lucas wouldn’t have traded places with Julio for all the world when she finally got ahold of him. “But I told him I do not need the other kind. He never bought them. I know. I need to pick them up at the pharmacy myself. I only have the one kind.”

  “Did the police say anything while they were here?”

  She shook her head, suddenly appearing a great deal older. She had shrunken down inside her tiny frame until it looked like it could barely support her. “They said he robbed a store with some other boys. The clerk was killed, poor man. But Julio did not do it. He does not see those boys anymore.”

  “Which boys? Do you have any names?”

  She shook her head again. “He does not see them. They were Surenos. I told him to stay away.”

  “Do you know where he was this evening?”

  “At work.” She said it stubbornly, lifting her chin and glaring at Lucas as if daring him to contradict her. He didn’t say a word, but the glance he traded with Elliot was enough.

  Elliot sighed and squeezed her hand. “I’ll have Lucas check upstairs and make sure the officers left everything the way they found it. Then you should try to get some rest. It’s getting late.”

  “And you will go to my Julio? You will help him.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Elliot said grimly. His tone made it all too clear what he thought of his odds, but the old woman wanted to believe him, so she did.

  They got her settled and locked up tight, or as tight as they could when the front door was nothing but hollow core. Elliot had left his business card and assured her he would call as soon as he had any information for her.

  He was kind and empathetic, but Lucas had gotten to know him well enough to recognize something reserved in his demeanor. His expressive features were calm, his eyes were aloof, and his somewhat naïve personality was hidden behind a professional veneer. Was he always like this when dealing with clients? Or had his previous concern for Julio vanished once he learned the ugly details?

  “Will you wait for me?” Elliot asked in a low voice as they walked back to his car, which was still in one piece. The gawkers from earlier in the evening had disappeared once the spectacle was over, and the light drizzle of rain kept the streets quiet.

  “I might as well.” Lucas shrugged and squinted at the street through the rain. “You still owe me that bet.”

  “I plan to make good on it,” Elliot promised, a slight smile curving the lush bow of his lower lip. “But it might not happen tonight. I don’t know how long it will take them to process Julio.”

  “I know the drill.”

  Discomfort weighed on him, but he wasn’t sure why. All he knew was they were both quiet as Elliot drove him back to the garage where he’d parked his bike. Elliot was undoubtedly thinking about Julio’s case, but Lucas found his thoughts bouncing around like a ping-pong ball, from the earlier confrontation with Greg, to what he would tell the guys at the garage, to worry over Julio’s sweet little grandmother left all alone in that ratty apartment. He felt guilty as hell that he’d fallen for Julio’s line about needing an advance. The truth was, he just hadn’t cared enough to dig deep into what was going on with the kid’s life. He’d been too caught up in his own life. Through all that, however, thoughts of his sister kept rising to the surface, like bubbles from an underwater volcano.

  He resolved to put her out of his mind. His brain had picked a terrible time to start tripping down memory lane, and he had more important things to worry about.

  Once he got back to Elliot’s place, he ordered a pizza, but he had no interest in eating alone. He took his second shower of the night and then kicked back on the sofa and turned on ESPN. But Trish and her giant blue eyes wouldn’t leave him alone. He wondered if her baby girl had the family eyes, or if she looked like her father, whoever that had been.

  Without consciously deciding, he found himself pulling her up in his contact list and pressing send. A cold sweat had goose bumps rising across the back of his neck.

  The call hadn’t even completed a single ring before he disconnected. He tossed the phone onto the coffee table and buried his face in his shaking hands.

  She didn’t want to hear from him.

  Maybe he was thinking about his sister so that he didn’t need to focus on what was really bothering him, and that was the vast chasm between him and Elliot that had been put on garish display multiple times that night. He’d already known it was there. They both did. They hadn’t needed Greg Vernon to rub it in their faces.

  But strangely, it was sitting at Elena’s rickety kitchen table that had truly illuminated their differences. Elliot hadn’t belonged there. He’d been so removed from the situation, as if he were a visitor in a foreign land. Lucas, on the other hand, had been comfortable there. Everything about the dusty old carpets and battered furniture felt like home to him. It had been a damn sight better than his own home growing up, when it came right down to it.

  He and Julio were cut from the same cloth. No matter how pure his motives, Lucas didn’t think that was something Elliot would ever understand.

  16

  Elliot

  Rain was sluicing down in sheets as Elliot pulled into his driveway late that night. It was after nine o’clock and he was exhausted, disheartened, and in desperate need of food. He knew he looked like a Wall Street hobo, with an unshaven jaw and a rumpled suit that was stale with the smell of Inverness lockup. His eyes felt like they were full of sand, but every time he blinked all he could see was Julio in his county jumpsuit, all his bravado vanished like the smoke screen it had always been.

  It hadn’t been an easy interview. Julio insisted he was innocent, but he had no alibi. He said he’d been at the mall, waiting for a girl he li
ked to get off work at the food court. No one could confirm that. He’d been warned to stay clear of her while she was on the clock after she’d been reprimanded for his loitering. He’d spent an hour kicking around the parking lot, conveniently out of security camera range. The bigger issue was the money, which he claimed he’d spent on pills for his grandmother. When Elliot pointed out that she’d never received the pills, his jaw had taken on a mulish cant. Without meeting Elliot’s eyes, he’d mumbled something about buying off the street.

  “I know a guy who could get me a bulk deal,” he’d insisted. “That way grams wouldn’t run out for a while. It ain’t right, the way she’s got to measure them out.”

  But when Elliot pressed for the name of his supplier, he’d balked. That had been the end of it. The guards had led Julio out of the room in shackles, and Elliot had driven home with a heavy heart. Still, despite his horrible day, his spirits lifted when he caught sight of the gleaming motorcycle parked on the side of his garage.

  He hadn’t had a pair of warm arms to come home to in such a long time. Even when he’d been living with Greg, it had never felt like coming home. Familiarity had been there but no warmth.

  Lucas, despite his hard outer shell and mischievous streak, was made up entirely of warmth. That man had a lot of love and faithfulness inside him, and everyone in his life had rejected it since the day his father died. Elliot needed that warmth tonight. He needed a reminder that the world wasn’t as miserable a place as it seemed.

  Sprinting to the porch left him drenched, but warm air enveloped him as soon as he got the door open. He tossed his keys in a crystal dish beside the coat closet, buffeted by the familiar smells of his home and the muted sound of a football game coming from the living room.