by K. C. Turner
“Well, I’ll let the two of you sort that out. In the meantime, Johnson, I need you to get a hold of Robinson’s parole officer. We’re gonna want to get a head of the game. Far as I know Robinson gave a Silverton address. He’ll do an about-face and when he does, I want to be ready. We need to be updated by his PO with every meeting he has and I want you or someone from this department at every random search of his residence. Also, find out how often we can conduct a random search and make sure it’s done. Keep a close eye on him.”
Giving the chief a nod, Shawn rolled his chair into his desk and went back to work. Martinez immediately spoke up. “I want in on this, Chief.”
He took a big gulp of his coffee, savoring the flavor for a moment. He pushed his lips together and stared into his cup thinking. “Now I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Martinez.”
“Oh, come on! Chief, I need this.”
“You’re too close to this. The last thing I need is Robinson reverting back to his old ways and a charge not sticking because you have a conflict of interest or heaven forbid he dream up some harassment lawsuit against the department. I don’t need the headache. Johnson’s got this handled. He’s drug enforcement. You’re homicide. Period.”
“Seriously? I wouldn’t jeopardize my career or the department for that asshole. I just -”
He turned his back to Martinez and headed towards his office. “End of discussion. Johnson will keep you abreast of the situation. Right, Johnson?” With that he walked out.
Shawn turned to Martinez. “Don’t worry man. I got this! I’ll keep you updated. Besides, we roll together all the time.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Once in a while I may have to make a stop and you just happen to be there.” He gave Martinez a wink and looked back at his computer screen.
Martinez pursed his lips thuggishly and slowly nodded his head. Returning to his own computer, he opened his email from Investigator McMurphy, which read, “Detective Martinez, please find below the original message I sent you regarding the date and time change of the parole hearing for Steve Robinson. If you have any other questions, please do not hesitate to contact me.” He was frustrated to see the message was indeed sent to his email address the previous Monday. Somehow, it was never received. The clock on his computer read 8:45 am. He knew Elizabeth would be downstairs getting ready for the influx of victims at municipal court. “Hey, Johnson, I’m gonna head downstairs and make a phone call then see if I can’t catch up with Liz real quick, in case Chief comes looking for me.”
Almost irritated by the interruption, Shawn didn’t look up from his work. “Yeah, sure, man.”
Martinez rose from his chair, grabbed his cell phone and headed for the stairwell. His feet slid down the stairs with agility. Reaching the heavy, steel door, he pulled the handle and walked through the police station lobby and past the records window to outside. He pulled up a contact on his phone and hit send.
“Yo, Medicine Man, here. What’s your ailment?”
“Miles, it’s Martinez. I need a favor.”
“Sup, Martinez.” Miles Murphy was parked on the side of the road and looked up over his dark sunglasses at the flashing police lights in the rearview mirror of his Cadillac. “You be like my guardian Angel, brotha. Da big man upstairs be lookin’ out, my man. Yo, whachu need?”
“I got a job for you, Miles. It’s pretty big and it may take a while.”
The beat cop approached Miles’ vehicle and came up to the window, rapping on it with his knuckle.
“Da-yum! My Angel always know when to show up. Ima need somethin’ from you first. You gon’ have to call off the dogs, my man. Yo, hold up, hold up.” He pushed the button on the driver’s side, the window slowly disappearing into door. He pulled his shades down his nose and looked directly into the cop’s eyes. “Yo, occifer, Ima need your badge numba, brotha, ‘cause I just got my get-out-of-jail-free card.”
Martinez became frustrated on the other end of the phone. “Damn it, Miles!”
“Yo, take down this numba. I got some bidness to take care of after I roll up outta here. Meet you at our regular for lunch, a’ight?”
After writing down the officer’s badge number, Martinez returned to the lobby and entered the code into the door lock leading to the station. He went straight to dispatch and ordered Lacy to call off Officer Smith who had Miles pulled over. Once that was handled, he walked across the hall to municipal court. Walking into the court lobby, he saw China finishing up with someone. As soon as she was done he went over to her. “Hey, China, how’s it going?”
Giving him a flirtatious look and flexing her eyebrows at him she said, “Hey, Martinez!”
“Is Liz around?”
“Yeah, she’s here. She’s probably in Traffic making copies.
“Thanks!” He spun around and walked past the probation department to the Traffic office where most DUI offenders went to receive their instructions. Peeking in the door he saw Elizabeth at the copy machine. He leaned against the frame and watched her wishing they weren’t at work.
Upon feeling his presence, Elizabeth turned to the door and caught his eyes. Her stomach fluttered and her body tingled at the sight of him. She smiled wide. “Hey, you.”
He leaned his head against the doorframe. “Hey yourself. You gotta second?”
She continued to look at him while pushing buttons on the machine as if she was preprogrammed. “Of course. I was going to look for you when I was done here. Just let me finish this up, okay?”
Giving her a head nod, he continued to admire her.
The copier continued to push out paper until Elizabeth realized it seemed to be producing more than she may have needed. She looked at the screen that read ‘100’ copies. She frantically began pushing buttons trying to make it stop. “Shit. Shit!”
In full on defense mode he ran to her rescue. “What happened?”
Giggling, she said, “I think I hit 100 instead of ten! Oh shit, it won’t stop! Ha ha!”
They both continued to hit the buttons on the copy machine until it stopped spitting out paper. “Holy crap, thanks! I really don’t think my victim has 100 places she visits regularly. Ten copies should do it!” Catching each other’s eyes, she said, “Let me drop these off and I’ll be right back okay?”
Elizabeth met a young girl in the lobby and explained to her to keep a copy in her purse, in the glove box of her vehicle, and to give a copy to work and any other place she frequented on a regular basis. She explained, “If you need to call the police due to him violating the protection order, you want to make sure there is always a copy available. Be prepared and make them do their job. Don’t give them any excuses to overlook it. This is a court order and he has to obey it. So do the police. Okay? I’ll talk to you soon.” The girl thanked her and went on her way.
Martinez hung out in the background watching every move she made and hung onto every word she spoke. When she walked up to him, he said, “You know, you’re really good at what you do.”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe. I just wish it made as much of a difference as I think it did.”
“I think you’d be surprised. You know, you do a lot for those women.”
Being modest, she said, “I sure hope so. So, what’s up?”
They began slowly walking away from the courtroom to a quiet part of the building. Hanging his head shamefully, he said, “Sorry I was tied up all weekend.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I hung out with China most of the weekend. It’s been a while since we’ve had some girl time, and I really needed it, so no worries.”
Rubbing the scruff on his chin, he wasn’t quite sure how to bring up the subject. He stopped her in the middle of the hall. “Liz, I should have been there for you this weekend and I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
Breathing in deeply, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hide it from him for long. She backed up against the wall and held her files close to her. “I take it you heard?”
He placed his hand against the wall above
her head, his body hovering over her protectively. “Of course I heard. One of the biggest dealers in town is getting paroled, Liz. Not only that, Chief Holden gave me his file months ago when Johnny Warren started harassing you. Of course I’m going to get word of his release. The question is how are we going to handle this?”
Letting out a deep breath she explained, “He’s getting out. What’s there to handle?” There was a concerned crease in his forehead that made her melt. Shaking her head she looked into his deep brown eyes. “I can’t do it, Angel.”
He titled his head in a begging manner. “All day long you talk these women into protecting themselves, yet, you can’t do that for yourself? I don’t get it.”
Relaxing her grip on the files in her chest, she became surefooted. “What you and China seem to forget is that the women who walk through those doors need protection from men who currently live in their homes. The men and women China deal with don’t live with each other, but they do know where they live. Steve doesn’t know where I live and I’d like to keep it that way as long as I can.”
“Exactly. How long do you think that’s gonna last. If Robinson wants to find you, and you can bank on that fact, he’s going to find you, Liz. If you renew the protection order, I can hand deliver it to him before he even leaves the gates. Trust me, it would be my pleasure.” He gave her an evil smirk.
“I know you and China both mean well, but I certainly don’t want to make things any easier for him.” Leaving the security of the wall behind her, she gave him one last look, ordering him to let it go. “I think I’ll pass. Can we talk in the interview room?” Walking into the room she tossed her files onto the table and grabbed the handle to the door, nodding her head slightly for him to follow. “I had an interesting conversation this morning with Pam DeFranco’s sister.”
The serious expression on his face remained unchanged. With pep in his step he entered the room, Elizabeth shutting the door behind them. They sat down across from each other and she began filling him in. Martinez listened intently as he took notes. She sat back frustrated. “You know, I never made Pam out to be a cheater. I wish I could gauge people a little better.”
Twirling his pen in his hand he said, “So, Brandon finds out his wife has a little side piece and freaks out. That explains why we were called out there Saturday. Did he know about the alleged pregnancy?”
Shrugging her shoulders she assumed, “From what Janet said, it sounded like she just found out. Maybe she confronted him with the pregnancy and wanted to leave. Things were already heated. Can you imagine if he found out his wife was pregnant not even a week after hearing about an affair? Sounds like motive to me.” She sat back in the chair and crossed her legs.
Tapping his pen against the table his mind wandered. “That sounds totally plausible. However, what if she and Brandon decide to work things out and he demands she break things off with her little fling?” He gave Elizabeth a sly grin. “That’s the thing about affairs. The marriage usually wins in the end. And sorry for me, I have another suspect and theory to investigate. So who’s this boyfriend anyway?”
Smacking her lips, she said, “Unfortunately, Janet didn’t seem to know that little piece of information. When siblings tend to disagree with your decisions and/or lifestyle, you in turn tend to share as little information as possible while still letting them know you’re okay.” She batted her lashes. “I speak from experience.”
“Fair enough.” He thought for a moment before becoming excited. “You wanna go to a funeral?”
Offset by his odd request, she asked, “Are you asking me on a date? To a funeral? How macabre.” She snorted through her nose.
Tilting his head to the side he said, “Well, when you put it that way.” He smirked. “I just need another set of eyes and Johnson’s got something else going on.” Without mentioning Robinson, he looked at his watch and continued, “I figure the DeFranco and Burrows families should be burying their loved one soon and my guess is the boyfriend is going to show up not long after they all say their goodbyes. He’s certainly not going to show up to mourn with the husband. Be a good time to find out who this mystery lover is.”
She squinted her eyes showing contemplation of his logic. Biting the inside of her cheek she hesitated before nodding in agreement.
He smacked his hand on the table in excitement. “Alright then! I gotta go meet my CI about another matter. How ‘bout you finish up here and I’ll swing by and pick you up in say, an hour?”
Gathering her files from the table she said, “Bring sandwiches. I don’t need it getting back to Peggy how I failed to follow her orders and stick within my job description. I’m already on thin ice.”
Giving her a look of understanding, he replied, “Hey, I’m just taking my girl out to lunch.” He stood up, leaned over the table, and kissed her on the forehead before walking out.
Shaking her head, she sighed and slightly smiled. He is sooo going to get me in trouble…
Pulling in across the street from the Silverton Fish Company, Martinez parked his sedan in one of the open spaces on Shoreline Drive and exited his vehicle. After looking both ways, he crossed the street, his eyes scanning the establishment. Miles was seated by himself at a picnic table facing the bay. He was dressed in Detroit Red Wings attire with blue jeans and red Jordan’s to match his jersey.
Martinez inconspicuously walked up to the side of the table looking out to the bay and said, “You stick out like a sore thumb, Miles.”
Dunking a piece of his fish into a container of tartar sauce he laughed. “Ha Haaa!” He stuffed a bite into his mouth and licked the grease from his fingers. “Mm, mm, mm! Best perch this side of Lake Erie.” Taking a sip of soda from the straw in his to-go cup he said, “Ya’ll can’t keep every thang for the yuppie white folk. Downtown becomin’ some gentrified bullshit. Fo’ real ‘doh. SPD done kicked out Mr. Henry from his spot down the street. What’s wrong? White folk don’t like BBQ?”
“Mr. Henry didn’t have the proper permits or inspections from the health department, Miles.”
“Yeah, well, Mr. Henry now South side by ‘da casino dealing wit drunks and poor folk looking for a handout. Got robbed the other day, too. He been servin’ BBQ in this town long before that jacked up sushi place shoved itself down our throats. But the white gyro man still got his spot and he doin’ good!” He looked at Martinez from under his dark sunglasses.
Cocking his head to the side, he caught Miles’ eyes. “What do you want Miles?”
Pulling his sunglasses down his nose a bit, he said, “You know what I want, Martinez; for Silverton, Ohio to once again be an equal opportunity for small bidness owners. Whatchu want, my man?”
Taking a deep breath, he looked back out at the bay. “Steve Robinson is getting released from prison this week.”
Stopping himself from finishing his last bite of perch, he placed it back into the Styrofoam container, wiping his hands with a napkin. “So, it’s true?”
“Yep. What I need to know is, who helped him. He just had his parole hearing last week. There is no way he would have been approved and scheduled for release this fast without some kind of help. There’s a dirty cop somewhere and I need details. I need a name.”
Cleaning up his mess on the table, Miles laughed out loud. “A dirty cop? Naw, man. You trippin’! Dem’s hard to come by. Ha ha! Dirty cop,” he repeated while shaking his head. As he headed to the large trash bin, Martinez walked in front of him.
“This isn’t a joke Miles. I know Robinson’s release affects you too wit’ your bidness and all.” He grabbed the container from Miles and tossed it in the trash. “Get me the dirt on Robinson’s release. I’ll get Mr. Henry doing business again downtown.”
Miles looked Martinez in the eyes knowing he could count on his word. “A’ight. Bet.”
Chapter 11
Martinez slowly pulled into the cemetery drive off Bogart Rd. and kept his speed below the posted 10 mph. Elizabeth sat quietly as the sacred monuments rolled past them
, the sun gleaming off the granite and marble. An old man sitting on a cement bench caught her eye. He appeared to be reading a book aloud. Possibly to his long lost wife, buried under the earth just feet in front of him. She thought of her parents. At least they’re together.
Feeling the sadness in the air, Martinez turned to see Elizabeth gazing out the window and asked, “Hey, you okay?”
Shaking off the heavy feeling she snapped out of it. “Sure. Just not much for graveyards, ya know?”
He was angry with himself for being so insensitive. “Damn, Liz. I’m sorry. Do you wanna go back?”
She shook her head negatively. “It’s not your fault. Honestly, I didn’t think I would be bothered so much. It’s just a little hard seeing so many symbols of peaceful sorrow. It’s so contradicting. You can’t possibly be sad and know peace at the same time.”
Never giving it much thought before, he understood her point. “I suppose not.” Just up over the small hill he noticed a line of vehicles with funeral flags clinging onto their front ends and a large group of people hovering over a grave as a metal device lowered Pam DeFranco’s casket into the ground. He pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in park. “Maybe a peaceful sorrow isn’t such an oxymoron. I mean the dead are at peace. It’s only the living who are sad. The two actually can co-exist, however unfair that may be.”
She propped her elbow on the inside of the doorframe and rested her head in her hand. “Hmm. You may be onto something there, Angel. But it seems very unfair.”
Reaching around to the back seat, he grabbed the plastic bag from Silverton Fish Company with two Styrofoam meal boxes and set it between them on the console. Elizabeth looked at him strangely. “I thought I smelled perch.”
He winked. “I told you I was just taking my girl to lunch.”
Taking another look at their surroundings, she said, “I hate to say, I’m really not that hungry at the moment. Sorry.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “No worries.” He pulled a sandwich out and grabbed a napkin. “But please don’t consider me an insensitive jack ass.” He took a large bite out of the sandwich, which left a smidge of tartar sauce in the corner of his mouth before he wiped it away. With a mouth full of perch he said, “Looks like the family is starting to filter out.”
