by K. C. Turner
She took another sip of water. “Thanks, Mildred.” Her conversation with Marilyn came rushing back to her. She stood up and held the back of the chair for balance.
Before leaving, China said, “Hey, I’ll meet you in back, Liz.”
Placing her hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder Marilyn asked, “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. I’m going to go back to my office and finish some things up.”
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. If there is anything I can do, please let me know. If you need to take the rest of the day -”
“I’ll be okay, Marilyn. Thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve done.” She was embarrassed. “I apologize for this,” she said waving her hand. “It was just a little too much bad news for the day.”
“No need to apologize, kiddo. I understand.”
Elizabeth smiled shyly as she turned to walk back to her office. Walking through the front office, she was uncomfortable. She imagined everyone’s thoughts about her situation and had a feeling they would be talking about her like they did the poor victims that passed through. The last thing she wanted was to be pitied.
China saw Elizabeth go into her office. She walked to the door, leaning her back against the frame. “Hey, sunshine. You okay?”
Holding onto the edge of the desk, she tilted her head back and took a deep breath. Tears formed in her eyes, one sliding from beneath her lash and down her cheek. Quickly wiping it away with her hand she said, “This has to be the worst day I’ve experienced in a while.” She sat down in her chair and reached for her purse from under her desk fumbling through it for her pills.
China unfolded her arms and sat in the chair across from Elizabeth, offering her undivided attention.
Finding the pills she unscrewed the lid and popped one into her mouth, washing it down with a sip of water from her cup. Her face was full of anxiety. “He’s getting out next Friday, China.”
“I know he is, honey. I’m so sorry.”
“What am I going to do? What if – I’m not sure – shit!” She rested her head on the back of the chair for a moment and shut her eyes giving the pill a chance to kick in and clear the clutter in her mind. Opening her eyes, she looked at China who was waiting patiently, allowing her to rant further. “Pam DeFranco is dead.”
“Oh wow...” China’s face dropped further. She was unsure of what else to say.
“Yeah.” Shaking her head and rolling her eyes she said, “Martinez is going to be tied up all weekend and I’m sure Monday is going to be a shit show at court with all of this if an arrest is made. And now Steve.” Her face was red and her eyes became watery again.
Attempting to change the negativity in the air, China burst with enthusiasm. “You know what we need? A girls night. Why don’t you come over tonight? We can fire up the hot tub and drink some wine. No guns though. I don’t want to shoot with you in your current state of mind.” She was serious in a humorous way.
Elizabeth smiled and brushed another tear from her face. She really didn’t want to be alone for the evening and she could never dismiss China’s innate ability to lighten any mood. “You know, that sounds really awesome. But tomorrow is Saturday. We’ll miss the beach. And you mean to tell me you don’t have a date set up for a Friday night?”
“The beach will be there next week and I told you, Chester is old news.” She rose from her seat. “Come over around 6-ish. I’ll make dinner for us.” She turned to her before going across the hall. “Everything’s gonna be alright, Liz.”
Chapter 9
Martinez sat at his desk recounting the earliest part of his investigation in his first report. He looked at his watch. It was after one o’clock and still no word from Brandon DeFranco. As he finished typing, Shawn walked in and sat at his desk across from the partition separating them.
“What’s up man? Heard you had a crazy morning.”
Looking up from his computer screen, Martinez nodded.
“Oh, come on. What, no dirty details for me?”
Still angry from their last encounter, Martinez lightly blew him off. “I’m just trying to get some stuff done, man.”
Throwing his hands up Shawn said, “Okay, okay. It’s cool. I get it.” He turned away to face his computer.
Martinez shot a suspicious look Shawn’s way. His wheels were spinning again. He pulled up his email and proceeded to write to Investigator McMurphy asking for more information regarding the email he never received, when his phone rang.
“Hey, Martinez. I have Brandon DeFranco down here, says you wanted to speak with him?”
“Thanks Alexander. I’ll be right down.” Hanging up the receiver, he saved the draft to his email and placed the password protection on his computer screen. He headed down the back stairwell that led to the police station lobby, where Brandon stood waiting for him.
Putting out his hand he said, “Mr. DeFranco, thank you so much for coming. Again, I am so sorry considering the circumstances.”
Brandon refused his handshake. “Save the formalities, Detective. Can we just get on with it? I still have to arrange my wife’s funeral.”
“Of course. My apologies.” Martinez led him into a five by eight foot interview room with two chairs and a table in between them. The walls were stark and cold. He shut the door behind them and the two men took a seat across from each other.
With his pad and pen in his hands, Martinez began going over his notes. “So, when we spoke this morning, Mr. DeFranco, you advised that you had not seen your wife since your court appearance yesterday morning, is that correct?”
Giving a head nod, Brandon kept a straight face. “That is correct.”
“About what time did the two of you leave court?”
Rolling his eyes in thought, he answered, “Maybe around 11:30.”
“When you left the courthouse, where did you go?”
“I went straight to work.”
“Did your wife tell you where she was going?”
“She said she was going home.”
“So, you didn’t talk to her again for some time that day?”
“Nope.”
“You said she sent you a text later in the evening?”
Leaning back in his chair, he sighed. “She text me around 8:30 saying she was going to her sister’s house for a few days.”
“And you were still at the Tribune at this time?”
“Yes, I had some hours to make up after being in court for a bogus charge.”
He looked back at his notes for a moment. “And you say Samantha Brown was there with you, correct?”
“That is correct. Sam and I were working on a project together.”
“Was any one else working late that night?”
“Not that I recall.”
“And what time did you leave?’
“Actually, right around 8:30. We were packing up when Pam text me.”
“Where did you go after that?”
“Sam and I went back to her place to grab some food and continue working.”
“What did the two of you have to eat?”
Brandon rolled his head back to stretch out his neck and flung his hands on the table out of frustration. “Oh, come on, Detective! I did not kill my wife! I loved her. I would never do anything to hurt her.”
“Well you do have two pending charges against you for doing just that, Mr. DeFranco.”
The anger was building and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his composure. “Those are bullshit charges and you know it. My wife and I had a fight. Couples do fight. It got a little out of hand but I did not put my hands on my wife. I wouldn’t, I couldn’t do anything to hurt Pam.”
“So tell me, Mr. DeFranco, who would want to hurt your wife?”
Elizabeth placed the last dish in the dishwasher, closed it tight, and hit the on button. She turned around and leaned her back against the sink, gathered her blonde hair over one shoulder, and adjusted the bikini string around her neck. “I just don’t get it. I read Marilyn’s recommendatio
n. What could he have possibly done in the past six years that justifies an early release? I mean, I get to deal with posttraumatic stress for the majority of my adult life, because of him, and he gets to skip out on 2 years? For what? Taking a few anger management classes over the years and proving he can be an ‘upstanding citizen’ in prison, of all places?”
China finished wiping down the island counter top and putting away the extra food, periodically looking at Elizabeth and nodding her head to show she was paying attention and understood her pain.
She waved her hands like a little Italian grandmother as she spoke. “We all know the prison system is a joke. There is no rehabilitation for these people. They send them away with these unrealistic expectations that they can mold them into contributing members of society by caging them like animals, forcing them to comply and conform, only to let them loose with felony records, completely unemployable, not to mention pissed off at the world, and their only recourse is to turn to the life that sent them there to begin with! Only this time, they get better at doing it.” Taking a breath, she paused to fill her wine glass and take a sip.
Raising her glass to toast the absurdity, China said, “Welcome to the American criminal justice system.” She grabbed the bottle and headed out to the patio.
Following behind, Elizabeth continued, “I just don’t understand the bullshit psychology behind it all. It’s no different than what we deal with everyday. Countless offenders and victims walking through the revolving door we call Silverton Municipal Court. The system doesn’t have any answers or solutions. It does nothing but continue to place cheap Band-Aids on an infected, seeping wound.”
China placed the bottle of wine on the shelf hanging on the side of the hot tub and slowly climbed into the jet-propelled water. She made herself comfortable and pulled her hair back, twisting it and clipping it up in a barrette. “I completely agree with you, Liz, but that cheap band aid is our job security, unfortunately.”
Sighing at the harsh reality, she pursed her lips. “Tell that to Pam DeFranco’s family.”
Taking a sip of her wine and placing her glass on the shelf beside them, China spoke frankly. “Look, I know you’re having a hard time with all of this, I mean, anyone would have a hard time with all the news you received today, but there’s nothing you can do now about Pam. You just gotta ride this one out, Liz. Tell me I’m cold or harsh or what-have-you; this is one of the many hazards of our job. The one thing you can do something about is prepare yourself for Steve Robinson’s release.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Prepare myself? Really, China?” She flung her arms over the side of the tub and shook her head from side to side before resting it on the plastic blow-up pillow, gazing at the stars above them. “You’re right. I need to prepare.” Maybe it was the warm, red wine clouding her perception. Maybe it was the water temperature of 100 plus degrees. Maybe it was a little of both that made her sit up and declare, “Can you give me one of your guns?”
A tad put off by her request, China replied, “Look, far be it from me to be the logical one, but don’t you think you may want to start with renewing your protection order?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Because that has helped so many people in the past. Come on, China. Where is this mystical voice of reason coming from?”
“I’m just saying, maybe you want to look at other options.”
“I told you before, he doesn’t have the address to the lake house. He’s never been there. I get a protection order renewed, he knows right where to find me!”
“I still don’t understand why you need to put your address on a protection order,” China said with disdain.
“Well, China, because if you try and prosecute someone for being somewhere they aren’t supposed to be, they actually have to know where exactly they aren’t allowed to go.” She sighed in disgust.
“Oh, I’m sorry Miss Attorney Lady. Forgive me for my ignorance.” She rolled her eyes again and topped off her wine glass.
Elizabeth immediately felt bad for her ridicule. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Yes, you did. Whatever.” Slumping into the tub a little further to massage her neck, China flung her bangs out of her eyes and quickly changed the subject. “Have you heard anything from Martinez?”
“Radio silence. Not that I blame him. I acted like such a spazz last night. So embarrassing,” she said shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
“I almost forgot! You never did get to fill me in on all that. What happened?”
As her friend recounted her dream and the events that followed, China’s eyes grew wide with concern. “Damn, Liz!”
“Exactly! I mean, we ended up having a nice evening but it was still a little awkward, for me anyway. Ya know? I – I just don’t know. It felt so good waking up to him but then after he left, my mind began to race and I pictured the worst.”
“You know, I once heard that when women get hurt, it actually leaves a scar on their brain. Not on the heart, but on the brain.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows inched closer together out of confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“No, wait! I’m not kidding! When we get hurt it leaves a ring on our brain, like trees that grow rings as they age.”
“Where on earth did you read that?”
In a matter-of-fact tone she said, “I didn’t read it, I heard it on the radio.”
Elizabeth couldn’t contain her laughter this time.
“Liz, I swear to you!”
“That is the most absurd thing I think I’ve heard in a while.”
“No, think about it; look at how it affects us when we get hurt as opposed to most men. We’re like devastated after a break up and they seem to move on with the speed and agility of a freaking super hero. On to the next conquest,” she screamed as she laughed at her own words.
Looking to the star lit sky for a moment, Elizabeth gave it a thought. “I think there are some men out there who would disagree with you.”
“Okay, maybe. Still, my point is you have scars on your brain, Liz. Your brain, your heart, whatever. Scars fade with time. But don’t fool yourself into believing every man you encounter is going to treat you like Steve Robinson did. You can’t let Martinez pay for something someone else did to you. That’s not his burden to carry.”
She looked into China’s brown eyes, knowing she was right.
“Just call the man.”
Martinez walked into the bureau bright and early. He was clean-shaven and rested, looking more handsome than rugged. Shawn was sitting at his desk. Upon making eye contact, Martinez sat at his station without saying a word. Deciding to break the ice, Shawn spoke first. “So, what are you doing here on a Saturday morning? I thought the chief only worked me like a dog,” he said with a sideways grin.
Looking up from over his computer screen, Martinez looked back down in silence.
Shawn was growing frustrated. He threw his hands up in the air before landing them on his thighs. “Look, man, I can’t say I’m sorry enough. I don’t know what happened, Martinez. Seriously. Chief’s been all over my shit about this damn heroin epidemic and I was rushing around that morning...”
Pulling away from his computer, Martinez pushed his chair back from his desk and sat with a cautioned look on his face, ready to hear out his colleague.
The lines in Shawn’s face were remorseful. “I swear, I’m sorry.”
Shaking his head, Martinez caved. “Look, this isn’t all on you. You were right, I should have handled it myself.”
“Naw, I told you I had your back. I should’ve come through.” Pointing his finger at him he promised, “But I’m gonna make it up to you!”
Smiling, Martinez said, “Alright, you up for a little good cop bad cop?”
He laced his fingers, cupping his hands in his lap as his eyebrows shook devilishly. “That’s what’s up.”
Excited, he stood from his seat and walked around to Shawn’s space, leaning his buttocks against the desk. �
�Okay, so, Brandon DeFranco?”
Shawn nodded his head and rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, that one,” he said shaking his head with a disgusted look on his face. “We pulled his wife’s body from the lake yesterday morning.”
His eyes were wide with intensity. “Whaaaat? Get the hell outta here?”
“So far, he has a strong alibi. It seems pretty solid. Claims he was with a co-worker, a sexy co-worker at that, Samantha Brown. She’s coming down this morning to ‘confirm’ his story that she was with him at her house.”
“Okay, I’m with ya...”
“Well, the thing is, it’s just not washing for me. He was just arrested a few nights ago and the wife got a TPO, kicked him out of his own house, right? So, the day before we find her, he claims she sent him a text at 8:30 PM saying she was going to her sister’s house to stay for a few days. Knowing this, he leaves work at around the same time and goes to Samantha’s house for the evening to work some more. That make any sense to you?”
Tilting his head back a bit, Shawn didn’t need to think about it long. “Well, if my wife kicked me out of my house for a few days, then text me to let me know she was leaving for a while,” pausing, his eyes squinted and he bit his bottom lip. “I think I just might be ready to chill on my own sofa and sleep in my own bed as soon as I could, work or not.”
“Exactly. That is unless the sexy co-worker’s bed is better. And if it is, we just may have a little motive.”
“So, what time is this sexy little number supposed to be here?”
“She should be downstairs any minute now.”
Excited, Shawn jumped out of his chair. “Let’s do this! I get bad cop right?”
Martinez shook his head and headed out the door, Shawn following behind him. As they reached the end of the stairwell and opened the heavy door into the police lobby, Samantha was coming in from the main entrance. She was wearing a tight, black V-neck shirt showing just enough cleavage and a pair of khaki Capri’s.
