Love and Injustice

by Mary Crawford

  I sigh. The kid may be a decade younger than me, but he has a point. I grab the hot pizza from the backseat of my car and carefully pick up the bakery box with my other hand. I plaster a smile on my face as if I have no other worries in the world.

  Grinning, I start singing at the top of my lungs as I theatrically wish Crystal a happy birthday. At first, I’m putting on my smile — but after I see the look of shock on my friend’s face, my smile becomes genuine. “What in the world are you doing here?” she gasps.

  “Is it, or is it not, your birthday?”

  “It is … I guess,” she stammers.

  “Well, then it should be perfectly obvious what we’re doing here — we’re having a party,” I announce.

  “Is that pizza I smell?” a tall, willowy redhead asks as she saunters out of what used to be Tori’s office.

  She walks over to Crystal’s desk where I set the pizza down and lift the lid. She groans out loud when she sees I’ve ordered Crystal’s favorite pizza. “Oh my gosh! Deep-dish sausage and pepperoni pizza. That’s so against my Keto diet, I don't even want to think about it. It’s like pure torture.”

  I stick my hand out for her to shake. “Hi, I’m Cody Erickson. Pizza delivery guy a.k.a. party planner and a friend of Crystal. Haven’t you heard, any junk food you eat at a party has no calories in it? Those are the rules — or, at least that’s what my sister always tells me.”

  “Look at you! You’re just adorbs,” she says in a high-pitched voice like she’s in a play. “You’re cute and funny too.” Her tone changes pitch and she says, “Hello, my name is Stacy Hildabrand. I’m the lead prosecutor here.”

  I don’t have to feign surprise as I say, “Wow! You don’t look old enough to have that kind of position. You must have graduated from Yale or Harvard … or one of the other Ivy League schools.”

  She giggles like a cartoon character. “Oh, I wish. No, I went to school at John Marshall.”

  “Still, that’s nothing to sneeze at. I’ve heard they’re pretty competitive. Your LSAT scores must’ve been impressive.”

  “Not really. It helps when your grandfather gives a lot of money to the law library. I was a legacy student.”

  “Still, you landed an impressive position like this —” I say with a raised eyebrow. “You’re young. You must have an impressive track record to advance so quickly.”

  Stacy averts her gaze when she notices Crystal studying her. She shrugs. “I guess some people are just luckier than others. You know, sometimes it’s who you know rather than what you know. My family is well connected, if you know what I mean. I’ve been pretty good at umm … networking.”

  Underneath her breath, Crystal mumbles, “Yeah, I just bet.”

  “You know, it’s weird. I have been in law enforcement for a long time and I’ve never heard of you coming up through the ranks. Usually, I do.”

  Stacy blushes to the roots of her hair. “I like to work the back channels.”

  Crystal breaks into a fit of coughing behind me. “Oh, that reminds me; I left the soda in my car. It sounds like you could use something to drink, Crystal. Would you like to come help me with the plates and napkins?”

  When she regains her composure, Crystal looks at me with complete befuddlement but agrees, nonetheless. We walked to my car in silence, but once we’re hidden behind my trunk lid, she hisses at me, “What are you doing here? Tori told me you guys are elbow deep in a case — a really important case. Why are you surprising me for my birthday — which by the way — isn’t until next Saturday?”

  I pat Crystal on the shoulder. “You, my dear, are serving as my cover. Think about it. If it were not for you would I have any reason to come talk to Stacy Hildabrand?”

  Crystal chews on her fingernail for a moment. “I guess not. I wish you didn’t have to. That woman isn’t worth the time you take away from your other case.”

  “Maybe not. But getting to the bottom of why this happened is worth it. Besides, at the moment, we’re at a standstill on the other case until the specialized computers do their magic. So, I might as well try to figure out why my girlfriend got screwed seven ways to Sunday by the agency she by the agency she was loyal to for almost a decade.”

  Crystal crosses her arms in front of her and sets her jaw. “Okay, but do you have to be so nice to Stacy? It makes you seem like a traitor.”

  “You don’t have to worry about where my loyalties lie. I’m squarely in Tori’s corner. I have been for a really long time — but I’m even more firmly planted there now. But … yes, I have to be nice. It’s how the job is done. It’s called being a professional. Don’t take it personally. I’ve been nice to murderers and pedophiles too. It doesn’t mean I side with them. It merely means I’m doing my job.”

  Crystal shakes her head and chuckles. “Okay, I guess I’m being a little dramatic. Stacy isn’t so bad. But I still don’t like her — she’s not Tori, and the job isn’t rightfully hers.”

  “I hear you. Let’s go back in and have some pizza and soda and see if we can get Stacy to talk a little more about how she ended up with Tori’s job. I know it’s hard — but I need you to dial back the hostility. Maybe if she thinks she’s among friends, she’ll open up more and give us insight about how someone as green in the field as she is could land the top prosecutor’s position.”

  “Well, I have a hunch, but if I said it out loud, my mama would wash my mouth out with soap,” Crystal snipes.

  “Okay, for today, we'll table those theories and just listen to what Stacy has to say. Who knows, she could collaborate your theory.”

  “Oh, for her sake, I hope not. My theory doesn’t put her in a very good light.”

  “I know this is awkward, but remember the primary purpose is to rebuild the opportunity to gain evidence for Tori.”

  As Crystal walks by me with her arms loaded with paper plates, plastic cutlery and a tube of plastic cups, she elbows me. “Okay, as difficult as it is for me to be civil under the circumstances, I will remember to keep my eye on the prize and not get distracted.”

  “Tori said I could count on you. She said nothing goes on in this office you don’t know about, and I should trust your opinion implicitly.”

  “See, I miss those kind of smarts. I pray every night we can unravel this ball of yarn and get Tori back on the job where she belongs.”

  “Me too — but in the meantime, we have to go on a fact-finding mission while we throw you a birthday party. After all, there’s pizza in there, just calling our names.”

  As I’m loading up the car after my carefully orchestrated impromptu birthday party, my cell phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and look at it with great trepidation. I’ve been holding my breath metaphorically for so long I’m almost afraid to look. Holy crap! It is a message from Toby. “Meet me at Identity Bank ASAP!”

  For once, I’m glad I’m driving a department vehicle instead of my beloved Mustang. I’m not even sorry when I flip on the siren to maneuver around a slow-moving vehicle after I leave the parking lot. It’s too bad I can’t share this development with Tori. It’s one thing to have her on my official payroll as my assistant. It’s quite another to subject her to the scrutiny of all my coworkers considering all the gossip that’s going in the papers. I’d just rather not. Hopefully, we’ll have something to celebrate later.

  When I left the house this morning, she had a bad headache. She blamed it on focusing on the computer screen too much. Even so, I wonder if the stress of everything is getting to her.

  John is waiting for me in the lush reception area at Identity Bank. “How did you know it was me?” I ask him. We’ve been friends for years, but the things he can accomplish with his visual impairment never cease to amaze me.

  “For one thing you always keep your keys and your change in your left front pocket. Most people carry them in their right pocket. Secondly, you have a weird hitch in your gait.”

  “Not much gets past you — no wonder Tristan hired you. I’m left-handed, that’s why m
y keys and my change is in the other pocket. And a few years back one of the bad guys shot me in the ankle while they were trying to get away. The therapist told me I did a great job with my rehab — but apparently not good enough for you.”

  “Tristan and Toby are waiting for you in conference room C. If you’ll follow Tuffy and me, we’ll show you the way,” John says as he gives Tuffy’s harness a microscopic tug.

  When we walk into the conference room I’m relieved to see Isadora’s picture up on the big screen with a big orange tag on it which says Possible Match.

  “What did you find, Toby?”

  “I didn’t find anything. This break is all due to the face recognition software. It found an 89% match.”

  “Is that considered good?”

  “Under the circumstances, with the lighting challenges and the way teenagers change almost daily, I think so,” Toby replies as he continues to type things into the computer.

  I look up at Tristan. “Do you concur?”

  “It looks like a solid lead. I’ve got other programs trying to trace the IP address so we can get a physical location where this was posted from.”

  “What kind of video is it?”

  “Not what we expected,” Toby admits. “It has nothing to do with soccer. It’s a video about painting kids’ faces for Halloween or birthday parties. It turns out that Isadora is a talented artist as well as a gifted athlete. The videographer appears to be one of the children whose face is being painted. The video is shaky and not professional quality but there were enough shots of Isadora’s face that the face recognition software was able to identify her.”

  “Has anyone notified her family?” I ask as my heart races.

  “Not yet,” Tristan replies. “As much as I trust my program, I'd much prefer we have human eyes on our victim to confirm the identity first before we get anyone’s hopes up.”

  “I agree. That would be a safer plan but how long will it take your program to find out where she actually is? Will we need to subpoena YouTube to get the records? That will take a while, won’t it? I suppose we could get a search warrant based on exigent circumstances. I don’t know how old this video is, but Isadora has been missing since New Year’s —”

  “Identity Bank is going to try to get all this with information publicly available using our extensive resources,” Tristan answers.

  “Sorry, I’m just thinking out loud here, trying to puzzle it through. Our first priority is to get Isadora home safe, but we also owe it to her to capture whoever did this to her.”

  “We’re on the same page here. Toby and I are working on it right now. But, we still have three other missing teens. What we don’t know is if their disappearances are related to Isadora’s, or if they are completely separate. So, when we go chasing after the bad guys in Isadora’s case, we need to be careful to protect not only her but make sure there aren’t more potential victims.”

  I smirk at Tristan. “Did you just politely tell me to cool my jets and let you do your job? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve told victims that very same thing. I’ve never been on the receiving end of that lecture. It feels a little strange, to be honest.”

  “I imagine it does — but unless you think getting a search warrant based on the YouTube video is a faster process than what we’re doing here, there isn’t a lot you can do until the computer finishes its process and pops out an address for us.”

  “Have I mentioned how much I hate waiting?” I grouse.

  “Several times!” Toby and Tristan answer in unison.

  “I understand waiting sucks. Do yourself a favor, take your girlfriend out for a nice lunch. Once this case starts rolling, you two may not have a chance to come up for air,” Tristan replies.

  I sigh as I glance at my watch impatiently. “I wish I could disappear with Tori and not come up for air for a while — but I have a hunch that’s not what you meant.”

  “Not this time. But if you guys can ride out the storms that are coming your way, eventually you can celebrate your love story like that. You can be like Rogue and me. We like to fly to Paris on a random Tuesday just for fun.”

  “Well, it can never be said you don’t dream big, Tristan. I think we all would like to follow in your footsteps.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  TORI

  FROM OUR CORNER BOOTH AT Reggae Shack Cafe, I glance around the packed restaurant. It has become our favorite getaway since we discovered we both crave its spicy Caribbean food. We eat here so often they don’t even bother to hand us menus anymore. When they see us come to the door, they just turn in an order for us and serve our drinks.

  “I can’t believe we were able to coordinate our lunch schedules today.” I comment with a contented sigh as I drink my fresh fruit smoothie. “I have been in meetings with my mom’s doctors all day. Her new medicine is helping with the dementia, but causing other side effects so they’re trying to figure out whether it’s worth the risk. I hope they keep her on it though. She actually knew who I was today, and we had a great conversation. She remembered my law school graduation. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her I’m not practicing law anymore,” I admit as I blink back tears.

  Cody squeezes my hand.

  “Hopefully, that’s just a temporary bump in the road.”

  “That would be nice, but they’ve already put someone in my job — doesn’t look so temporary to me.”

  “Yes, I’ve met Stacy. Even she admits she got the job through ‘back channels’. She made no secret she didn’t get her position based on skill,” Cody says, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

  I roll my eyes so hard they can see last Tuesday. “Uh-huh … welcome to the legal profession. That’s pretty much standard operating procedure. It’s hardly a smoking gun, Detective Erickson.”

  “By itself, maybe not — but somebody wanted her in that position and you out. So, if we look at the intersection of those two things. Maybe we’ll find the person with the motive to do you harm.”

  “I’m a prosecutor. I put people in jail. I’m an aggressive black woman who got promoted over some people who were not minorities and who were less qualified. Take your pick. Not to sound dramatic, but I probably have more than a few people I’ve ticked off over the years. People aren’t beating down my door or anything to get at me, but they’re probably cheering for my demise in the privacy of their offices.”

  “It might seem like the list is huge — but I’ve got it whittled down to just a few suspects. In a couple of weeks, I should be able to pin it down even further.”

  “Okay … let’s say you’re successful. Then what? It’s unlikely anyone will do anything about it in this political environment. Derek Zane wants to give the impression that he’s the perfect District Attorney and he runs a tight ship. Do you think he'll pursue an investigation of his own shop?”

  Cody is silent for a couple of moments as he considers what I said. “Depending on what I find, I could open an official investigation and then ask for an outside investigator from a different county or maybe on a state level.”

  “I appreciate the thought — but it wouldn’t work. Anybody with two eyes could figure out we’re dating now and that you have a personal motive in trying to figure out what’s going on. You’re not exactly an uninterested law enforcement type now.”

  Cody grins. “When it comes to you, I’ve never actually been an ‘uninterested law enforcement type’.”

  “True. But now it’s really obvious — and anyone could pick up on your bias.”

  “So, you’re just going to give up? I got news for you … I’m not sure your replacement understands Black’s Law Dictionary isn’t a shade of her favorite mascara. Are you willing to just hand over your legacy to her?”

  “No! I didn’t hand over my legacy to anyone. It was stolen from me!” I snap.

  Cody runs his fingers down my cheek. “I know things have been tough with your mom and you have had little chance to fight this. But now you’ve got a whole team of people helping with
your mom and … you’ve got me, Crystal and Bonni Jeanne in your corner. Don’t let the creeps, known as your former bosses, get away with this. We’ve got your back.”

  “Do you think I can actually fight the whole system? They’ve destroyed my reputation.”

  “The people who know you, I mean really know you, know you are better than that. Go show the rest of the world who you really are.”

  I flash him a watery smile. “Crystal and Bonni Jeanne make a phenomenal makeover team, but I’m not sure the four of us can take on the whole system and win.”

  Cody gets up from the table and holds his hand out to me. When I grasp it he pulls me to a standing position. For several moments, he simply stares at me. Then he draws me in closer for a hug. As he’s holding me tight, he insists, “We won’t know until we try. Besides, it’s not just us. You’ve got Katie, Tristan, Mitch, Jessica, Darya, Stuart and Maya — not to mention everyone else in our circle.” He pulls away and kisses me gently on the lips. He smiles encouragingly. “You haven’t even met everybody yet.”

  “It’s not like I’ve had a lot of free time,” I mutter, shaking my head in frustration.

  Cody hugs me one more time and then turns his chair around backwards and sits down on it. “We’re like a freakin’ army of tattooed, tamale-eating, do-gooders. The bad guys won’t have a clue what hit them.”

  “So you’re saying everybody will join my fight just because I ask them to — no questions asked?”

  “Will they step up to the plate if asked? Absolutely. With no questions? Probably not. This is a chatty, invasive bunch — in a good way. They want to be supportive, so they want to know what’s going on with you. Don’t be surprised if they pick your brains and try to figure out how they can help you. But they will be helpful. I’ve seen this group pull together in amazing ways.”

  “Now that I think about it, so have I. I’ve seen your friends support Savannah when she had to testify against the guy who held her hostage, Mick Ricard, and then again when she had to repeat the process with the Brennans.”