She took the glass and the bottle into the den, plopped herself in a threadbare recliner, and knocked back a substantial portion of the liquor at one go.
Then she refilled her glass.
When she was on the last glass of bourbon left in the bottle – which, admittedly, had not been more than two-thirds full, if that, when she pulled it from the cabinet – and well lubricated, Koch started talking to herself, planning and plotting what she would do.
“Nicky baby is gettin’ at least lieutenant-colonel level pay, and that ain’t shabby. I still dunno how he busted Peabody down below him, but the fact that he did says a lot for his ability to negotiate the organizational ladder. Maybe Nick had something on ol’ Win and blackmailed him. Damn, Uncle Bill handled that one all wrong. He shoulda re-hired the guy, instead of trying to kill him! No wonder he didn’t come back to IPD Headquarters! No, Nicky knows what he’s doing. He just maybe stuck it in crazy where the preggers bitch is concerned, and got caught out. She probably sleeps around, so who knows who the father really is? He oughta know better, what with nanites an’ shit. She prob’ly wanted that salary of his, too! But there’s appearances to be maintained in a position like his, so he hadda man up and marry the damn bitch, I guess.
“No, what I need to do now is to slide back into his good graces, and then into his bed. And I need to figure out how to cut the bitch and her brat outta his life, and more importantly, outta his finances…”
She silenced for a while, and knocked back another big slug of bourbon.
“Huh. Maybe ‘cut out’ is the operative term,” she considered. “Just because those toadies Carter sent with me walked outta here with my IPD-issued weapons doesn’t mean I don’t have some of my own. So maybe if I get rid of the bitch, I can ‘comfort’ Nicky-baby when she’s gone, and slide right on back into his bed. Mm, I remember him in bed. Damn, was he good… or was that Ned? No, I think it was Nicky. Eh, they all look alike once you get their clothes off. A buncha muscles an’ a big stick in the middle. It’s all about whether they know how t’ use that stick!” Her head wobbled as she laughed to herself, then she struggled to get her thoughts back on track.
“And so if I can do that, if I can get the bitch an’ the baby outta the picture an’ me back in it, then I can play the bitch’s game, and either get pregnant or claim to be pregnant, and suddenly I’m Ms. Koch-Ashton. And then we can see about taking care of Carter, Nicky an’ me. Then I can be Ms. Director Ashton. Or something. The Jive, Uncle Bill called it. Damn, I’ve had too much again. Eh, it isn’t like I gotta go to work tomorrow.” Another slug went down her throat. “Mmm, I love this shit.”
Half an hour later, she was passed out in the recliner.
The next morning, Koch came to, still in the recliner, with a splitting headache and decidedly hung over.
“Ugh,” she groaned, smacking her mouth to try to rid it of the disgusting taste. “Shit. Time for some hair of the dog – thank you, Uncle Bill – and scrambled eggs, if I can manage to make ‘em without throwing up.”
She rose slowly and staggered into the tiny kitchen of her apartment, wagging the empty bourbon bottle. She tossed it in the recycle chute, then got out another bottle, opened it, and poured herself just one shot, which she knocked back. “Mmph,” she grunted then, and turned to the preparation of a high-protein breakfast.
As she cooked the eggs and waited for her bread to toast, she pondered her situation, and what she wanted to happen.
“Divide and conquer,” she suddenly said. “That’s what Uncle Bill always drilled into me. That’s how you get through a group against you. Divide and conquer. I can do this.”
“Hello?” Ames answered the VR call somewhat absently, some two hours later; she had been rubbing her back, which was aching after having to locate where someone had inadvertently parked the mobility chair to ‘get it out of the way’… too far away from her desk.
“Hi, Ms. Ashton?” came the unfamiliar voice.
“Yes, this is Callista Ames Ashton…”
“This is Tabitha Koch,” the woman said. “Listen, I just wanted to apologize to you over certain little scenes the other day. Maybe Nick told you that we used to see each other, way back when, and I hadn’t heard he’d gotten married, so when I saw him, I remembered the good old times, and just sort of… didn’t think.”
“No, I understand,” Ames said, reserved and cautious. “He’d already told me about you.”
“I see. And so anyway, I know he loves you a lot, and so I just wanted to call and apologize and tell you that I didn’t mean anything by it.”
The hell you didn’t, Ames thought, vindictive. He – and Win Peabody, and Pete Stone – know you way the hell better than that, bitch. And now, so do I. What are you up to now? Well, at least you’re out of Nick’s life now. Lee fired your ass. He won’t be running into you any more at all, you little slut.
What she said was, “Oh, I understand. You were just glad to see him.”
“Exactly! And Nick’s a really nice guy, and that means you must be nice, too. So I was wondering if, by way of apology and getting to know you better, I could buy you at least a cup of coffee and a snack? I’m sure, with that growing baby, you’re probably hungry a lot. Besides, it isn’t like I know a lotta people on Sintar any more… I mean, um, you know, I… well, I could really use a couple friends… especially now, what with being out of work…”
Ames pondered the matter briefly. Huh. Maybe she really does want to be nice. If she wants to get back into the IPD, she could be trying to turn over a new leaf, now that she sees she can’t get in there crooked. I’ll give her a shot. What can she do to me in a café, anyway?
It never occurred to her that, while Ames had topped her Academy class in hand-to-hand and martial arts, Koch might have done the same. Or that Koch was laying on the pathos with a trowel.
“Okay,” she decided. “When, and where did you have in mind?”
Soon they had a location and a time – the next day, midafternoon, during Ames’ usual growing-baby second lunch break. They would meet in a little hole-in-the-wall café called the Baked Bean – part of a local franchise which, Koch assured her, had excellent coffee, including decaf, which Ames preferred for the baby’s health. Nanites could do a lot, but she didn’t see the point in stressing them unnecessarily. More, they had delicious baked goods and deli sandwiches, which should satisfy the needs of a rapidly growing baby boy.
“I’m looking forward to it!” Koch lilted on the call.
“Yeah, having girlfriends to hang with is always good,” Ames offered. “Woops, here comes somebody. Gotta go, Tabby.”
“Later, Cally.”
And Ames turned to greet Rassmussen as he brought her the latest forensics report.
That night, as Cally tried to get settled with a restless and very big baby in her belly, kicking and squirming, it never occurred to her to mention the next day’s coffee date to Nick, never mind the fact that Tabby had indicated she wanted to surprise Nick with their newfound friendship – “the old and the new,” she’d said.
It simply wasn’t in her thoughts around getting her poor swollen feet elevated, food in her belly, her back eased, and her bladder emptied – the baby had a tendency to settle its butt right down on that organ and kick her kidneys or stomach. She’d even thrown up once the week before, when little Paul had nailed her stomach the wrong way and induced nausea.
So it never even occurred to her to mention it to anyone until the next afternoon, half an hour before she was scheduled to meet Tabby.
“Hey, Maia, my second lunch break might be a little long today,” Ames called as she headed for the front door of the precinct.
“Wait, wait, what’s up?” Peterson said, coming to the door of her office. “You meeting Nick again?”
“No, not this time,” Ames said, shaking her head. “If you can believe it, Tabby Koch wants to make friends. We’re meeting for coffee and snacks. Well, decaf and snacks.”
“WHAT?!” Pet
erson almost screamed. The ICPD Investigations bullpen stopped dead as everyone clued in on the conversation.
“Yeah, that’s what I kinda said, when she called yesterday,” Ames averred. “But no, she just wants to get to know the wife of her old boyfriend, I guess.”
“Cally, no!” Roger Armbrand exclaimed. “You know that bitch is trouble!”
“It’s okay, Rog,” Ames replied with a grin. “You know I can handle myself. If I can take down Gorecki, I can take her out. She’s a lot smaller.”
“And she’s trained better than Gorecki ever was,” Gene Demetrius shot back. “You know who her uncle was; you can damn well better be sure he got her the best hand to hand training money could buy. She was a cop, for cryin’ out loud. A crooked one, but still.”
“Well, that’s just it,” Ames pointed out. “Past tense on that ‘cop’ thing. She screwed up, and she knows it. I think maybe she just needs a friend, and thought that, given she has some good memories of Nick, and I married him, maybe I’d be as nice as Nick.”
“Or maybe she wants Nick back so she can ride his coattails, and she’s looking to bump you off… and the baby, along with,” Adrian Mott said.
“Guys, at least give her a chance,” Ames protested. “Give me an opportunity to meet with her and see how she reacts. I hardly think she’s gonna pull a gun on me in the middle of a busy café, right off the bat, here.”
“Give her a chance? I wouldn’t trust that one with a pet kitten,” Demetrius said. “Let alone Nick’s beloved and their unborn baby.”
“Does Nick know?” Stefan Gorski asked.
“Um, meant to tell him last night, but Paul was kicking like crazy, and it was all I could do to get settled.”
“Then tell him!” Peterson said. “Now, before you go. Better yet, have him meet you there!”
“Back off, guys,” Ames said, growing irritated. “This is a girl’s afternoon out. I’ve got this under control.”
“Where are you going?” Peterson asked.
Ames, already irked, simply turned and walked out.
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING??” Peterson yelled after her, but got no response save the distant sound of a door closing.
“That ain’t good,” Mott decreed when Ames was gone. “Anybody think we need to be pinging Nick, like right away?”
“I think that’s a damn good plan, and I’m all over it,” Peterson declared. “Get ready to go tail her, guys.”
“I got that,” Mott said, grabbing a couple of items out of his disguise kit and donning them as he headed after Ames. “You guys get Nick on this, and I’ll tell you where to meet me for backup. Assuming she doesn’t recognize me and give me the slip.”
“She better not,” Demetrius warned. “This is Cally’s life we’re talking, here, Adrian. And her baby’s life.”
“I know. I’ll do my dead-level best,” Mott said, and he was gone.
“IPD Investigations. Detective Ashton here,” Ashton answered the call that came in on the official VR line.
“Nick, it’s Maia. Did you know that Cally was going to be meeting Tabby Koch today for coffee?”
“She WHAT?!” Nick shouted out loud; outside his office, several of the investigators perked up, looking at their lead’s office door. Stone and Peabody exchanged worried glances, then Peabody nodded at the door, and they both rose and eased over to the doorframe, to see a pale, upset Ashton sitting in VR.
“That’s kind of our reaction,” Maia said then. “Evidently Koch made some sort of friendship offer to your wife, and Cal accepted it – or swallowed it, one; I’m more inclined to the latter, and so is the rest of The Team. The problem is, Cally thinks she can handle it; she’s got that reputation as the top of her Academy class at hand-to-hand, and with the baby and the hormones, I dunno. She thinks she’s Super Mom or something, I guess. I’m worried she’s overestimating her abilities, especially with that huge baby bump, never mind the hormones starting to loosen the joints…”
“Yeah, she was having some issues with her hips the other night. And Tabby was top of her class at hand-to-hand, too,” Ashton pointed out, “and she doesn’t have a baby on the way. This isn’t good, Maia.”
“I know, sweetie, I know. Listen, if you know of a coffee shop she likes or frequents, I’d say to hightail it over there. You might just be in time to stop something bad happening.”
“Shit, shit, shit, and hellfire,” Ashton cursed aloud, to the dismay of Peabody and Stone, before dropping back into the VR call. “No, I have no clue on that, Maia. She doesn’t have a favorite, because she tends to prefer brewing it at home; we have a French press…”
“Oh, I get it,” Maia said then. “And no, that’s even worse, because that means that Koch suggested the place.”
“Did she give you any clues?”
“Mmm, lemme think.”
“Hurry, Maia.”
“My brain only goes so fast, hon. Now hush and lemme replay her conversation.”
Ashton silenced and waited. Only then did he glance up and see Stone and Peabody in his door, and a goodly part of the rest of The Gang, behind them. He held up a finger in the classic wait gesture, then pointed to his temple, and they nodded understanding.
“Cally?” Peabody mouthed, and Ashton nodded.
“With Tabby Koch, right now,” he murmured in response.
“Oh shit, oh damn,” Stone cursed under his breath.
“What possessed the woman?” Peabody wondered, and Ashton shook his head, closing his eyes.
Just then, Peterson came back on the channel.
“Nick? You still there, honey?”
“I’m here, Maia. Whatcha got for me?”
“Not much. It’s a café, not a diner or other restaurant, and she called it a busy one. So it’s probably on the main drag someplace, in one of the arcades, and she didn’t take the mobility scooter thing, so it can’t be too far from here…”
“Okay, Maia, thanks. I’m gonna get some of my people and see what we can find.”
“Adrian Mott went after her, trying to tail her,” Peterson told him. “If we hear from him, I’ll tell you, and The Team will come along for backup.”
“It’s a plan,” Ashton said. “Talk later, Maia.”
“Later, baby boy. I’ll notify Lee for you.”
“Thanks.”
And he broke the connection.
“Okay, Nick, buddy, let’s have it,” Stone said, as Ashton rose and came toward them.
“It’s simple. Evidently yesterday Tabby Koch called Cally and invited her for coffee this afternoon,” Ashton said. “And she didn’t tell me, though I have no idea why, and she didn’t listen when The Team told her not to go. She’s headed out to meet with Tabby right now, and nobody knows where they’re meeting. Maia Peterson thinks Cally is letting the hormones get to her a little, and that she’s overestimating her chances with a combative Tabby this late in her pregnancy… and given she was having hip issues for the last week, and the doc said it was hormonal, I agree.”
“What would Koch want with your wif–” investigator Jim Carson began, then broke off. “Aw shit. She doesn’t want Cally. Koch wants you…”
“Probably to ride his coattails up through the department, and maybe she thinks she can use him to get her job back,” Peabody filled in.
“…And plans to get rid of your wife and your baby to do it,” Carson finished.
“That’s what we’re afraid of,” Ashton said. “I want as many of you as aren’t already on a case, helping me by scouting out the nearest busy cafés near ICPD headquarters as we can find. Easy walking distance, because she didn’t take the scooter.”
“On it, boss-man,” investigator Beulah Thomas declared, as she dropped into VR.
“And then,” another voice broke in from the door to the bullpen, “you go find her, Nick. And I’ll see you have backup.”
Ashton turned, to see Lee Carter, slightly pale and very stern, standing in the archway.
Less than two minutes later, John
son Burke came up from VR, his deep mahogany face unhappy. “Detective Ashton, sir, we’ve got about half a dozen active and busy cafés within easy walking distance of their precinct. I guess cops drink a lot of coffee…”
“Damn, damn, damn,” Ashton cursed. “How do we narrow it down, and do it fast?”
“Let me see,” Peabody said then. “I remember her and her uncle pretty damn well. I bet I can pick out no more than two possibilities out of the lot. Then we break into two teams and each gets one café.”
“That works,” Ashton said. “Go, Win.”
Peabody dropped into the VR room where the junior investigators were sorting through information and studying city maps.
Moments later, he came up for air with the rest of the Gang.
“Got it,” he said. “It’s the Baked Bean. Good coffee, good food, and cheap. At the near end of the arcade next to the ICPD headquarters precinct. Kershaw loved the place. I’d lay odds he took his niece there any number of times.”
“I’m gone,” Ashton said then, heading for the door.
“Peabody, you and Stone go after him,” Carter ordered. “He’ll need help, and he might need somebody to keep his head on straight.”
“Sir,” Investigator Mary Nailly said, “we’d like to go along.”
“No, you stay here, all of you,” Carter decreed, as the two men ran after Ashton. “He, Stone, and Peabody have history together. Depending on whether anything else goes down, and whether or not Koch has accomplices, we may need you all here. Besides, half of his wife’s colleagues are already en route, because one of ‘em tailed Detective Ames to the coffee shop.”
“Which argues,” Brandon Elliott, the last of the investigations Gang, remarked, “that she’s not on her game to begin with, if somebody could tail her.”
EMPIRE: Imperial Detective Page 20
