“Yeah, it’s more ‘famous’ than ‘major’ but it connects to I-44 right there too. That’s the ‘major’ interstate in Tulsa. It goes southwest to Oklahoma City. Northeast through Joplin, Springfield, and to St. Louis. From OKC and St. Louis you can go to Dallas, Houston, Chicago, pretty much anywhere. That’s just north to south. You could branch out east to west from any of those major hubs too.”
“A huge farm next to an interstate. It has to be drugs. I’ll find out when I go look around.”
She shook her head. “You’re not going out there. No way.”
“Yes I am. You’re gonna take me.”
She shook her head even harder and scoffed. “No, I’m not. And you can’t just go out there, anyway. There is security. It’s private property.”
I didn’t say anything.
“You don’t want to go prying too hard. There’s no proof of anything here. It’s all hearsay.”
“Four farm boys tried to kick my ass and another one followed me.”
“Wait, what? Is that why you called yesterday? Even if that’s true you don’t know they’re from this farm. Did they say that?”
“They didn’t have to. And I don’t work for the TPD. And I don’t answer to anyone. I’ll go out there if I damn well please.”
“I get that you’re upset that your friend passed away. So, I don’t mean to be harsh here, Savage, but maybe you should take some time and step away for a bit. We have a system for a reason.”
I stared at her like she had three heads.
“It’s not perfect. But it’s as fair as it gets.”
“Listen to yourself.”
She looked away and said nothing.
“I don’t need permission from you to go look around out there. It’s gonna happen whether you take me or not.” I stood up. “Don’t get any bright ideas with Starsky about following me around. It won’t end well.”
Shirley finally snapped. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. There is a network of good ol’ boys here. It won’t be us you have to worry about. You don’t want to turn over rocks and piss off the wrong people. Trust me.”
“I’ve pissed off worse than the elites of Tulsa, Oklahoma. And you just confirmed how fair the system is.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s old oil money that goes way back. A lot of wealth. With these rich people, everybody knows everybody, and they’re all connected. It’s why I don’t get taken seriously at work. It’s all run by appointed rich men, and they don’t like people messing with their power.”
I glanced around her house. “Why do you do it then?”
She looked away.
“Your sister?”
Detective Shirley’s neck tensed. Her eyes narrowed and her whole body stiffened. “How—”
“Your pictures.” I nodded to the wall. There was a line of photos. A girl who looked a year older was in all of them up until a graduation photo. “She the reason you became a detective?”
“I don’t talk about her.”
The pain in her voice ran bone-deep. I wasn’t going to push it. I knew the gist of the story. She disappeared or was murdered. The case went unsolved. Her becoming a detective was her form of closure. Unpleasant experiences and traumas aided many people in finding their calling in life. It would’ve given her closer access to the files too. That told me something about her. She was willing to go the distance and travel every road possible for someone she loved.
“You were close to Sean Callahan. Weren’t you?”
“He was my best friend.” I exhaled a breath of air.
“What exactly do you want to get out of all this? He’s dead. Nothing can bring him back.”
“I want the truth.”
There was a brief pause between us, a moment of understanding. That was why I wasn’t going anywhere. That was why the whole town should stay out of my way.
Shirley stared off at the pictures on the wall. I hadn’t meant to make her relive her entire past, but maybe she needed to. She warred with herself. I could see it play out in her eyes.
“Okay,” she said.
I didn’t say anything.
“I’ll take you out there. Tomorrow. There won’t be as many employees on a Sunday.”
She started to walk off toward the living room. I grabbed her by the wrist and spun her back around gently to face me.
“You’re on your own in there, Savage. I’m not breaking any laws. If I see you break any, I’ll arrest you.”
“Fair enough.”
The memory of her sister and all the pain that came with it still hung in the air like a thick fog. I needed to cut through it.
“You can try, anyway.” I grinned.
The corner of her mouth curled up the slightest bit. I’d take it. For some reason making Kristine Shirley smile set my mind at ease in a weird way I couldn’t put a finger on. She reminded me of someone or something. Maybe it was just an ideal. Maybe it was because she knew what it was like to want justice for someone lost too early, or to not have answers as to why they were gone. Whatever it was, I would use it to get what I wanted. If I had to hurt her in the process, so be it, even though I’d avoid it at all costs if possible. I couldn’t get attached to her. Developing feelings for a woman wasn’t part of the plan. It was counterintuitive.
I had enough self-control not to sabotage my plans. I’d figure out what the hell happened with Sean, get my own form of justice, and hold people accountable. Shortly thereafter, I’d get out of town, and disappear into the woods. If I got laid in the process that was fine by me. Kristine Shirley was beautiful. But if there was one thing I knew about myself, it was that I didn’t develop feelings for women. It led down a path I wasn’t going to travel.
“You’re pretty cocky, you know that?”
“We call it charming where I’m from.”
I got a full smile. The more she liked me the less likely she was to back out of taking me to the farm tomorrow. I found myself coming up with all kinds of reasons why it’d be good for her to take me too. I could grab a cab and do it alone, but she’d be good at spotting tails. If shit hit the fan I could get out of there quick with her waiting in the car. She could even run interference as an officer of the law.
“Is that so?”
I nodded.
“We call it full of shit around here.”
I liked her.
“Where are you from?”
I took a step toward the door. “Nice try, detective.”
Then it dawned on me if we weren’t going until tomorrow, I had all day free. It wouldn’t take an entire Saturday to go through information and make connections. It wouldn’t hurt to have some company.
“Have a drink with me later.”
“What?”
“Later. This evening.”
She stood there and her eyes darted around, trying to avoid mine. “I can’t. Not a good idea.”
Not the answer I expected, but I’d get by just fine either way. I shrugged and walked out her front door.
9
I TOOK THE SAME BUS back to the hotel that I’d taken to Shirley’s dry cleaners earlier. It was about a ten-mile ride and took forty minutes with all the stops. Not too bad. I hopped off a few blocks away from the Best Western with the laptop in tow. I needed a place to store the computer.
The rooms at the Best Western had safes. I wasn’t crazy about giving them my name or using a bank account. If I had my own room, I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone going in there, snooping around thinking it was unoccupied. I decided I’d purchase a room for the night, but I needed some cash.
I hopped back on the Fast Track bus once more and rode to the Memorial Midtown Station, then caught the Memorial bus route heading south and it let me out around 71st Street. Everything got newer the farther south you went. You could see how the city had expanded, probably over the last fifty or sixty years, slowly, like a vine crawling toward sunlight.
I took a left on 71st Street and walke
d up a few blocks carrying the laptop. Woodland Hills mall was on the north side of the road and stretched for a while. It was a tan building, unremarkable. It looked like a nice place to shop, with the usual fare on the outside, Dillards and Macy’s. There was a Cheesecake Factory and a Mimi’s Café and a few other restaurants sitting roadside, but still connected to the mall parking lot. Shopping centers ran all along the south side of 71st Street. I kept walking.
I had time to kill, so why not? Might as well see some of Sean’s city. I walked up on a convenience store called QuikTrip, and popped inside to use the ATM. If anyone was monitoring my bank transactions or cards, they’d think I was staying in that area. There were a few of the Hilton chain hotels right around the same place. It was feasible. If they checked up on it it’d lead them to the middle of town and away from me.
My head craned from side to side when I left with the cash. Traffic was pretty backed up and it was three lanes on both sides of the road. Tulsa was definitely a bigger place than I’d thought.
Everything on this side of town was all corporate chain stores, the places I’d passed anyway. I liked downtown and Brookside better. Those areas had character and were unique—more history. I strode back toward the bus stop, jumped on the Memorial bus to Memorial Midtown station, and looked at a map. The Tulsa streets were a grid layout, very efficient, unlike most cities. There were a few highways that circled around and formed a loop, and a few crossed diagonally across the metro area. Those were the main arteries, but the rest of the streets were the veins. The streets all crosshatched at right angles, forming perfect squares. They all looked to be about a mile apart.
I got back on the Fast Track and rode it to downtown, getting off about half a mile from the hotel. I walked the rest of the way back. If they were surveilling the Best Western they’d watch the bus stop closest to the place, which I made sure to avoid. I checked for tails the whole time and saw nothing of concern.
When I arrived at the Best Western and ducked into the parking garage, Kristine Shirley was waiting by the door in her Foo Fighters tee shirt and Levi’s. She was smarter than I gave her credit for.
10
“DETECTIVE.” I NODDED.
It was getting later in the afternoon at that point. I looked up at the sun and guessed around three p.m.
“I decided a drink sounded okay.”
I didn’t say anything and walked past her.
She stood there like she didn’t know what to do.
“You coming or not?”
“To your room?” She said it like I’d just propositioned her. I didn’t mind her thinking that.
“Well, I have to get one first.”
“Umm.”
I held up the laptop. “Need a place to stick this.”
I had second thoughts about staying at the same hotel two days in a row. I didn’t like staying places more than once and Shirley had found me there. I didn’t like being found. If a mid-twenties detective could find me, who else could? Or was she just that good? She certainly seemed more intelligent than her partner. I wanted to hear how she did it.
Moving around made you harder to find. I’d already sent myself all the files, but then if something happened to the laptop, I’d be stuck going to libraries or borrowing phones or computers. It sounded like more work than I’d enjoy. More people who would’ve seen me, heard me, talked to me. More questions. More answers.
I walked to the desk. Shirley took a seat on a sofa in the lobby.
“Need a room for Mitch Mitchell.”
The guy flashed me a funny look.
I tried to appear as normal as possible, whatever that meant, and I never used my real name. I preferred names of musicians from the 60s and 70s. Mitch Mitchell was the drummer for The Jimi Hendrix Experience. Damn fine drummer too. Not quite John Bonham, but on that level.
He shook his head and rapped on a keyboard, then paused for a beat. “Do you have a rewards card?”
“No.”
“Would you like to hear about our promotional—”
“Just the room, please.”
I didn’t give anyone my information. The less number of databases I was in, the better. Not to mention those things were a scam. No way it was better for the consumer than the company.
“Will you be—”
“Cash and a room.”
“Well, okay then.” He gave me a fake smile. He hated me. I was sure of it. Didn’t care.
“That’ll be eighty-seven—”
I handed him a hundred. “Keep what’s left.”
I wanted Shirley in my room, the laptop stored away, and no questions, all as soon as possible.
I glanced out. Shirley chewed on her fingernail. She dropped her hand in her lap when she caught me watching her. Nervous. I liked that. I took the key and headed her way, looking at the room number. It was 230, second floor.
She stood up when I approached.
I nodded toward the stairs. “I don’t like elevators.”
She hesitated but followed me. I caught her reflection in a giant mirror. Her eyes roamed the place, looking for exits. I liked her more. She was deep in thought and her steps were reserved and measured. I held the door open for her and we took off up the stairs. She waited for me to lead the way. One flight. Didn’t take long.
I held the second door for her and my room was the first on the right. Perfect. Easy exit. That was a nice little bonus. I figured the guy put me at the end of the hall to keep me as far as possible from the other guests. Seemed like a win win. Hotel hallways were long. A room in the middle of one could get you trapped in a hurry.
Shirley’s steps slowed as we neared the door. I could hear them on the carpet, like she was debating with herself. She wasn’t quite sure about me, but the mystery kept one foot planting in front of the other.
I slid the key into the reader attached to the door. The green light blinked twice and a bolt retracted.
She took a deep breath as I opened the door.
“After you.”
She blew out the breath of air and walked inside, craning her head around like all people do when they walk into some place they’ve never been. “It’s nice.”
I followed behind and didn’t say anything. When she’d walked past I’d caught a scent of her shampoo or body wash. It wasn’t strong enough to be perfume. Something flowery with a hint of coconut. She smelled like a sweet vacation, like a pina colada on a beach in the Caribbean.
“How’d you find me?”
She grinned. “Just tried to get in your brain. Figured out the where first. Then narrowed it down with the why.”
I leaned in far closer than I needed to, about six inches from her ear. “You did well, detective.”
She blinked twice, fast. Then I watched her snap back into the present. “Where are you from?”
I walked over to the window to check out the view. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m a detective.”
I turned around to face her. She had her arms folded over her chest again.
I regarded her for a few beats.
“This only works if the information goes both ways,” she said.
“My past is irrelevant. So maybe you’re asking the wrong questions.”
“It’s relevant to me. I want to know who I’m helping.”
I closed the space between us. “Is that what you’re doing?”
She nodded. I raked my gaze up and down her. It was meant to look like I was deep in thought. I really just wanted to stare at her body. She was so feminine and yet tough as nails at the same time. It did something to me, stirred something inside. A romp in the sheets with her would’ve been heaven, but this felt like more than that, and that could get very dangerous in a hurry. It was best to be evasive and observe. It’d always served me well.
“I’m not really from anywhere.”
“This was a mistake.” She shook her head and turned to walk away.
I grabbed her by the forearm. Not in a rough way. In a wa
y that said, hold on, I don’t want you to go yet, but you’re free to if you like. Her arm was lean and muscular, but soft and light at the same time. A perfect combination. Smooth skin. Hard interior. She looked down at my hand then back up. We locked eyes again.
“I move around a lot. Live off the land.”
A few wrinkles scrunched together on her forehead. “Live off the land?”
I didn’t say anything.
“Like that Alexander Supertramp guy?”
“No. He was an idiot.”
“You’re very blunt.”
I leaned in closer. “I don’t like to waste time.”
“Why was he an idiot?”
“He didn’t know what he was doing. Didn’t show nature the respect it deserved. Wasn’t properly trained or prepared. Didn’t listen to people who tried to help him, and he died of starvation because of it. And that’s a horrible way to die.”
“And you’re trained to live off the land?”
“Nice try.” I thought about not saying anything, but there was something about her. I still couldn’t pinpoint it. Sharp, alluring—I wanted to tell her things. She was good, and way underutilized. It didn’t surprise me. Men didn’t like it when women could do a better job than them. It’d never bothered me. I always preferred results over office politics. Anatomy made no difference. “Yes, I know how to live on my own in the wild.”
“Where’d you learn?”
“Fort Bragg, North Carolina.”
“Navy Seal?”
“No.”
“Which branch?”
“Army.”
“Ranger?”
“For a bit.”
“Then what?”
“Delta.”
Her eyes widened. “Still?”
I shook my head.
“Then you retired? Lived off the land?”
“I’ve said too much already.”
I thought about grilling her for some background information, but I knew enough just from watching her. I planned on making her a bit more nervous. So, I walked past her and stripped naked.
11
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU doing?”
Savage Beast (Max Savage Book 1) Page 5
