Into the Darkness

by L. T. Ryan

  If it kept us both sane, then so be it.

  It was five a.m. Too early for the sun to be up. Too early for me to be up. But I had no choice, even while suspended from work. I’d slept for three hours, if that. That’d been the case the past couple of nights. Impending doom, I supposed.

  My hearing with Chief Warren was scheduled for today at nine-thirty. I faced a lengthy suspension for assaulting another detective.

  Assault, my ass.

  If the guy was half as tough as he acted, a single punch wouldn’t have taken him down.

  They’d likely bring up a string of other infractions that had been swept under the bureaucratic rug and kept there until they needed to use them in an effort to keep me away from the job for as long as they were legally allowed. Maybe even longer.

  Huff — my boss — wouldn’t do much to help. He couldn’t. He hadn’t been in middle management long enough to be able to put up and win a fight with Chief Warren.

  My sole hope rested with the case my partner, Sam Foster, and I had blown wide-open a week or so earlier. If it weren’t for us, Beans Holland and Debbie Walker would be dead. Two young kids who had been in my ex Lana’s fourth grade class.

  In the same school that Ella Kate attended.

  Horrible to think what could have happened.

  Now, you’d think the fact we rescued those kids would be helpful for my case. If only. I had a feeling it’d come back to bite me in the ass. I pissed off a lot of people. Broke a lot of rules. Hell, I’d do it again, too, if it meant bringing those children home.

  My phone erupted in song again — some tune they’d called Soft Morning Rhapsody. I flipped the phone over and traced the slider to turn the alarm off. Ella hadn’t noticed. Oh, to sleep like that. I kissed her cool cheek, rose, and proceeded to the bathroom and hopped in the shower. After drying off, I stepped into my gray suit pants and pulled a white cotton t-shirt on. It looked fresh and bright in the mirror. No stains. I slipped my button-up over it, letting it hang open. I’d throw on the jacket and tie at the last minute. Hell, right outside Huff’s office suited me fine.

  Ella Kate sat up as I opened the bathroom door. She stretched her little arms over her head and belted out a dramatic yawn. Her mouth must’ve twisted in seven directions.

  “Morning, Daddy.”

  “Hello, angel,” I said, leaning over and kissing her forehead.

  “Why are you up so early?”

  “Got a meeting.”

  “At work?”

  I nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Come on, let’s get you ready to see your grandmother.”

  She freed herself from the tangled web of sheets and hopped off the bed. “I can get ready myself.”

  I leaned back against the wall to allow her space to pass, smiling as she blew by and marched right out of the room. When I saw her again she had on a pair of jeans with hearts made from gems running down the leg and a t-shirt adorned with the cast of My Little Pony.

  How long until she’d outgrow such things?

  How much had Robbie outgrown since we last saw him?

  I hadn’t seen my son since my ex-wife, Marissa, left with him in the middle of the night more than a year ago. A few days ago, I received a postcard in the mail from him. Looked to be sent from Denver. It provided the first clue as to their location since they had disappeared.

  An hour later, Ella had eaten and I’d caffeinated myself to the point where I could drive. She stood there with her Teddy, aptly named Doggie, and a pink backpack. I loaded her into the Boss — my 1969 Boss 429 Mustang — and we made the short drive over to Momma’s house. The roads were empty and still slick from the shower that’d blown through a few hours before. Faint orange sky peeked over the cluttered horizon.

  Momma stood at the front door with a mug of steaming coffee. She shuffled Ella into the living room, turned on the TV, and then pestered me with questions.

  “Have you heard anything about which way they’re leaning?”

  “No, Momma, I haven’t. I’ve told you before these things are tight-lipped. The chief has a file on me that’s two-inches thick. At least.”

  “And another five inches thick that shows him all the good things you’ve done.” She fanned herself with her hand. “The people you’ve helped. The cases you’ve solved. You and Sam are the only good cops left, Mitch.”

  “Maybe I should bring you along to lobby for me.”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Always making jokes. What are you going to do if they fire you?”

  I glanced around the kitchen. “You got an extra room here, right?”

  “For Ella. You’ll be sleeping in the doghouse out back.”

  “Yeah, well, that might be too nice for me.”

  “That’s right. It is. So don’t you come back here without your job intact. Got it?”

  I shot her a smile, hoping it would instill some false confidence in her. Judging by the look on her face, it didn’t do the trick.

  “Anyway,” I said a few moments later, “I’ve gotta get going. Sam’s meeting me for breakfast. Said he’s got some info from Huff about what the chief might hit me with. Could help knowing in advance. You know? Get a defense going in my head.”

  “You said you hadn’t heard anything.”

  “I hadn’t. I’m about to. If I have a few minutes, I’ll call.”

  She ushered me toward the front door. “Give my love to Sam. And be sure to remind him how lucky his mother is she doesn’t have to deal with her son getting into trouble all the time.”

  Sam the Angel. Yeah, right.

  Standing on the stoop in the cool air with the sun peeking over the house on the other side of the street, I felt like a teenager again. Sam and I had been friends since high school. Not so much in the years before that. But even back when we were teenagers, it was me getting us into most of the trouble.

  And this time I hoped Sam had something that would help bail me out.

  Again.

  Chapter Four

  The diner was small, loud, a bit dirty, and had the rudest waitstaff I’d ever encountered. In all seventy-three times I’d eaten there. Why subject myself to such a hostile environment? They served the best scrapple west of Center City. The way I saw it, the grime on the floor added a bit of flavor to the food.

  We sat there for five minutes without speaking. Sam stared out the window at the parking lot. His eyes only moved when someone entering or leaving the building walked past. Didn’t take a mind reader to figure out he had nothing good to say.

  Our waitress returned with our food. She set Sam’s plate in front of me, and mine in front of him. She failed to refill my coffee, too. But she broke up the monotony, and for that I was grateful.

  “So what’s new?” I asked after shoveling down an egg and half my scrapple.

  Sam shrugged and took a sip of orange juice. “Got a new case yesterday. Murder-suicide. He was eighty-three, she was seventy-four. We already got into her email, and it turns out she was cheating on him with her personal trainer. Guess how old he was?”

  The image in my head wasn’t pretty. “Ninety-two?”

  Laughing, he shook his head. “Twenty-six.”

  “Get the hell outta here.”

  “Serious as shit, man. The husband was loaded. He, uh, had something to do with inventing a revolutionary heart valve replacement thing, or something like that. So it seems the young buck got wind of this, you know, through casual conversation with the wife. After a while, he and the old lady started forming a plan to get rid of the husband and take his fortune.”

  “Can’t imagine what would’ve happened to her after that.”

  He shrugged. “Her money, so as long as she didn’t marry him. He’d have to do whatever she wanted, I guess.”

  “But the husband found out and put an end to all of it.”

  Sam nodded, then scooped a pile of pancake into his mouth.

  “You said we.” I folded my arms over my chest. “Who’d they team you up with?”
>
  He stopped chewing and held my gaze for a moment. A few seconds later, after he’d swallowed, Sam said, “You remember Morris?”

  “Rings a bell, I suppose.”

  “Kid who transferred into Robbery a few months ago from a district on the other side of town.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know him. That’s who you’re working with now?”

  Sam nodded.

  “They’re giving him a little exposure to our world while I’m out, huh?”

  Sam’s eyes shifted left. It was only for a second. But that was a second too long. I knew it. He knew it. So he said, “No, he’s making a permanent move.”

  “Shit.” I balled my napkin up and tossed it on my plate. It rolled into a puddle of leftover egg yolk and stopped.

  “Look, I’m not saying this is set in stone. You might get lucky in there today. Maybe Huff will fight for you.”

  I laughed. “Huff ain’t doin’ shit. You know he’s got no pull. Chief Warren will slap him down if he so much as lifts one ass cheek to fart.”

  The conversation went to that place where conversations go to die. We sat there, silent, Sam staring out the window again. The waitress came by. Looked annoyed. Set a fresh glass of OJ in front of Sam and took my quarter-full mug away without asking if I was done.

  “Anyway,” I said, watching our waitress retreat into the kitchen. “What’s your gut tell you on this case you’re working?”

  “Seems pretty cut and dry.”

  “You think the young buck had anything to do with it?”

  “We’re bringing him in today for questioning. But really, what’d he have to gain by killing both of them? And we don’t have proof he was acting with the old lady when it came to taking down her old man.” Sam wiped his mouth, then added, “Yet. But so far, the emails we’ve found implicated her. Once we can get access to his computer, we’ll know more.”

  Interesting case, I thought. The kind I would have sunk my teeth into. Plain as day the personal trainer had some involvement in the plan to take out the husband. Maybe he was there to do it and something happened. The old lady chickened out, threatened to go to the cops. Sam needed to ask the right questions. Morris had to ask the right follow-ups. If things were going to travel down the wrong alley, it’d happen there. Hell of a case to break in an FNG.

  “So what exactly have you heard about my hearing?” I asked.

  Sam’s lips thinned and his face tightened. “It’s not good. Chief Warren wants to use this latest incident to fire you. It’s not enough, of course. But I hear his plan is to devote a full-time employee to going through every single case you ever worked, with me, and before me, all the way back to your newbie days. They’re gonna try to find every possible mistake, slip-up, code violation you ever made. They’ll take every single complaint ever filed against you. Doesn’t matter if it was from a jaywalker from back when you worked downtown. Whatever happens today, just be ready to face the fact it might get worse. Once they have all that shit together, they’ll have another hearing. And that’s when Warren’s gonna drop the hammer.”

  “Well, that figures. Chief’s had a hard-on for me five years, at least.” I grabbed a frigid, sweating glass of water. Tiny remains of ice bobbed along the top. “Guess I can count on my vacation lasting a little longer.”

  “Sorry, Mitch.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “They came to me. Interviewed me for four hours. I said every positive thing I could about you.”

  “So you’re saying you talked for about three seconds, then ran out of stuff to say.”

  Sam laughed. “Pretty much. Someone had to, right?”

  “Well, you’re not the dumbass that knocked Fairchild out inside the office.”

  He slid his plate to the side and leaned forward, forearms crossing half the table. “I know the guy deserved it. But, Mitch, you gotta learn to control yourself. You might lose your job. What next? I mean, you already lost your wi–” Sam stopped himself.

  I looked away. Said nothing. I felt the full effect of what he didn’t say.

  “Maybe you can negotiate with them,” he said after a few awkward seconds.

  “How?” I asked.

  “Therapy.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “You’ve got an anger problem, man.” Sam leaned back and tilted his head to the left. “Look at you. You’re getting pissed off at me right now.”

  “Are we through here?” I didn’t want to spend another minute inside.

  “Consider it, man. Might be the thing that allows you to keep your job.”

  Chapter Five

  The meeting took place in Huff’s office and not one of the bland meeting rooms. Surprised the hell out of me. Chief Warren looked pissed that this was his second time at our humble office in less than a month. Didn’t help my case that both times were because of me. Every few seconds he’d brush some lint off his jacket or straighten his shirt. Huff drummed his calloused fingertips on the arms of the pleather chair. His stare remained fixed anywhere but on me.

  I assumed the posture of a Buddhist monk, still and calm, my shoulders held high and pulled back. At least I looked in control on the outside. That wasn’t the case on the inside. It didn’t matter what I said, or how I defended myself. The decision had been made. The meeting was nothing more than a formality.

  When the time came, I pleaded my case. My entire defense boiled down to the fact that Fairchild was an asshole. And I said as much.

  “Detective Tanner,” Chief Warren said. “In all my years in the department, I’ve never encountered a cop as off-kilter and arrogant as you. And I think that in itself says something. In my opinion, the city of Philadelphia would be better off if you were no longer a member of its police force.”

  “You know my record,” I said. “I’ll grant you my methods might be a bit unorthodox at times, but dammit, I get the job done.”

  Warren looked down at me. “And how does sending another detective to the hospital get the job done? Tell me how taking a man out of work for two weeks because his jaw was wired shut helps anyone around here, or the citizens who count on us. Christ, you know how understaffed we are to begin with.”

  “So why are you so hellbent on making me take a seat, Chief?”

  Huff cleared his throat. “Tanner—”

  “I’m not done, Lieutenant,” Warren said, slicing sideways through the air with his hand. “Detective, I’ve got two people looking for any loophole they can find to get you kicked out of the department. And I’m not stopping there. We’re scouring every case you’ve ever worked, and every call or report filed against you. So help me, I’m not only going to fire you, I’m going to put your ass in jail.”

  My old friend anger made a triumphant return. I sprung out of my chair, finger aimed at Warren.

  “You wouldn’t manage to hang on to that cushy job of yours if it wasn’t for cops like me who get the damn job done. What was your record when you were out there? Huh? Whatever it was, I bet you didn’t get to where you are now by being a damn choir boy.” I paused a beat. “Or maybe you did. That’s it, right? You’ve been a damn ass kisser since your first day on the job. Apparently, it doesn’t stop when you get to the top, because now your lips reek of the toilets in City Hall.”

  “Detective Tanner!” Warren stepped forward. Veins popped like snakes on his neck and the sides of his forehead.

  “Whoa! Whoa!” Huff lurched up and darted around his desk. He popped me in the chest with one hand, and Warren with the other. Drove both of us backward. I slammed into the glass wall. “Sit your ass down, Tanner.”

  “Yeah,” Warren said. “Listen to your lieutenant, Detective, while he’s still your boss.”

  “And you shut the hell up, Warren. You know damn well you were baiting Tanner.”

  Holy shit! Huff actually had a set, and they just dropped.

  It appeared as though Warren didn’t know whether to slap Huff or obey his command. The chief stood there like a dog trying to decide if he
’d get the treat if he sat this time. Huff’s face and posture remained stoic. I would’ve never imagined this from him.

  It felt like the temperature had climbed twenty degrees inside Huff’s office. Heavy breathing mingled with the constant drone of the HVAC system. The other two men engaged in a stare-off. Felt like they’d forgotten I was in there, too.

  Finally, Huff lowered his outstretched arms. Tension eased from his face. “Chief, step outside with me.”

  On his way out, Warren shot me an icy stare that caused an involuntary clenching of my chest and arms. A sheen of sweat coated his forehead. His cheeks still burned red. Looked like his veins were going to pop right out from his skin. Huff had stepped in at the right time. A few more minutes, Warren might’ve stroked out on us. What was protocol if that happened? Would they hand me my badge and let me get back to work?

  I waited two minutes before moving. First thing I did was look out at the hallway. Huff and Warren had slipped out of sight, leaving a view of the drab wall. Turning, I faced the homicide room. Everyone had cleared out, no doubt at the sound of my outburst, leaving behind a bunch of cluttered desks and sports coats draped over the backs of uncomfortable office chairs.

  I pulled out my cell and checked my emails. A few new spam messages, but nothing else. No texts, either. Maybe all the other detectives already knew the outcome. Best guess, Huff told them to be gone. But what if they’d all turned on me, leaving Sam as my only friend in the room? Could I really blame them? By this point, they all must have started wondering who’s next. Piss off Tanner and he’ll belt ya.

  I stared at the wall behind Huff’s desk for a few more minutes. The guy was not one to decorate, so to pass the time, I pulled up ESPN’s website and glanced over the headlines. Not even the upcoming Eagles versus Cowboys game could get my blood going as much as the encounter with Warren.