Killer Storm

by Jen Wright

  We ventured out again to see how much snow there was. Our little snow tunnel had not completely filled in. We had situated the holes so that the wind was hitting the mound broadside. We crawled into our respective ends and began making the tunnel higher and wider. We spent some time enacting my little fantasy of kissing her warm mouth in the cold. It was better than I had dreamed. I decided that I should share all of my fantasies with her.

  We spent the rest of Sunday getting to know each other. We talked of work, our upbringing, values, past relationships, and fears. Significant in Zoey's life was her struggle to finish her Ph.D. She had been working part time and living partially off of student loans. Her academic work was good, and she found the study fulfilling, but she had been in a troubled relationship. Her partner at the time was also going to school. They had little time to be together, and when they were together, they spent most of the time arguing. Her partner ended up having an affair with an undergraduate student. Zoey found out about it in the end stages of trying to complete her dissertation. She struggled through the paper and ended up turning in the last draft in the final seconds of the due date. She actually had to stop her professor from locking the door to his office to give it to him. When it was all over, she stayed in for a week, alternating between the joy of completing her dissertation, anger at her now former partner, and sadness about losing her.

  We ended up talking well into the night, and we finally got up on Monday at 11 A.M. The snow was letting up. We ventured out with shovels in hand. The snowplows were nowhere in sight, and well over three feet of snow was on the ground. We shoveled for two hours straight before heading in for a break. We had only shoveled out her small driveway and the front walk. My car and the rear sidewalk were left to be liberated. It took another hour to clear them. The snowplow finally came by at 6 P.M. News reports conveyed which roads had been cleared. The alleyways and some of the small avenues would not be cleared for days. The news stories included segments on kids sliding down the middle of main streets and of daring and near tragic rescues. One woman with only wood heat couldn't get her door open to get to her wood supply and had to burn furniture to keep warm.

  I called Kathy and Donna.

  "So how was your date?" I asked them before they could get the same question out. Kathy didn't answer me but simply said, "You tell me."

  "We're having one heck of a first date."

  "Have you slept together yet?"

  "Things are going well. Very well."

  "Very well?" Kathy repeated.

  "I'm not giving you a play-by-play. Are the roads plowed?"

  "The highway is, but our road isn't. We can't tell if the Valley Road is or not." Kathy paused, and I could hear muffled talking in the background.

  "Donna wants to talk to Zoey."

  I handed the phone over. All I heard was, "Uh-huh. Yes. Oh, yes!"

  I went upstairs to shower and to give her some privacy. My clothes were in the dryer, and I would likely be back at work the following day. I found myself feeling a little sad about this. I would miss Zoey. I took a long shower and let it all sink in.

  Chapter 18

  When I walked downstairs, she was just hanging up the phone. Immediately after she put down the receiver, it rang again. She assumed it was Donna calling back and said into the mouthpiece, "I'm not giving you the details!"

  She got a shocked look on her face, turned pale, and said, "Who is this? Tell me who this is right now!" She gently put the receiver in its cradle, and looked at me.

  "What?"

  "Someone just threatened to kill me. Or, more likely, threatened to kill you. Do you still have your cell phone forwarded to this number?"

  I walked over to her and took her hand. It was ice-cold. I guided her down to the floor. "Yes. What exactly did they say?"

  "He said, 'You fucking dyke bitch! You're dead. If Nickel doesn't get out, you're dead. Make it happen.' That's it. I just hung up the phone."

  "It was just a kid making a threat. Probably nothing to worry about. Are you OK?"

  "Yeah, I'm OK, but how did he get your cell number? Does he have my number now?"

  "No, he doesn't. But do you have caller I.D.?"

  "I don't think so."

  I tried *69 with no luck. I realized that much of the world never needed it. It did come in handy when trying to track down threats.

  I called Nate's number, and he picked up. I told him about the call. He didn't know how they had gotten my cell number. It was possible they had taken one of my business cards from my office. He would call Lou to see if he had received a similar threat.

  My thoughts raced. Why would they still be focusing on probation? We did get the police into Latrell's place. That must be it. Or this could be related to Nichols's original threat to Lou and me. I hoped Char wasn't being harassed. I pulled out my Palm Pilot, retrieved her home number, and called her.

  "Hello."

  "Char?"

  "Who is calling?"

  "Jo Spence."

  "Thank god it's you. I just had a scary phone call."

  "Me, too. Tell me what they said."

  "Some guy basically said, 'Let Nickel and the boys out, or you're dead.' He swore a bit and tried to sound tough."

  "Do you have caller I.D.?"

  "Yes, but it came through as an unknown caller."

  "Shit! Are you OK?"

  "Yes – it’s not my first threat, but it's been a while since anyone has called me at home. I had my number changed a while back."

  I didn't say it but thought that the information must have been gained from the break-in. What did the little bastards do – write down all of the staff names, addresses, and phone numbers? I still wished I knew who had broken into my office, and how they had gained access without any sign of forced entry. I felt I had let the staff down somehow. I gave Nate's cell number to Char and asked her to brief him. I updated Zoey, and we sat there in silence for a while.

  Nate called me back after ten minutes. He had assigned squads to run by Zoey's and Charlene's houses periodically. Lou had not received a call, but he wasn't at home. Nate hadn't been called either. I theorized that the caller only had the numbers from my office.

  It also occurred to me that the gang knew Nate would be armed and considered him a less vulnerable target. Nate didn't ask about the address I had given him. I was grateful for that.

  The call definitely put a damper on the evening. I called D. and K. They agreed to watch my boys for another night. I would stay over and go to work in the morning. Zoey seemed glad for more time, too.

  Chapter 19

  That night, I had another vivid dream. Zoey and I were skiing on the trail behind my house, heading for the river. It was a gray day, barely light enough for us to see the trail. Three foxes jumped out in front of us. They were small and hungry looking. One of them had a significant limp, and his back leg was withered.

  They should not have been that close to us. They circled around us and then morphed into human-like creatures. They had faces and a trunk, but maintained fox ears, tails, and legs.

  The leader said, "If we don't get Nickel back, we will kill you."

  I felt an inner calm. No threat. I just kept following the trail to finish our ski.

  The fox-humans morphed back to foxes and started growling fiercely, running around in circles. One of them took a bite at my calf. I noticed that it was bleeding, but I didn't feel any pain.

  Again, I kept skiing ahead with the same inner calm.

  Then I woke up.

  I went downstairs and found myself cleaning Zoey's kitchen. This was weird, I knew, but I couldn't stop myself. I had all the burner covers off and was scrubbing them with Soft Scrub when Zoey cleared her throat behind me.

  "I'm sorry; I clean when I'm stressed. This case is getting to me. I just had a really strange dream."

  "Tell me about it."

  "Can I finish this first? It helps me to relax."

  She gestured with her hand and said, "Have at it."

&
nbsp; When I was done, we moved into the living room to sit in front of the fire. I told her the dream in its entirety.

  "I have some knowledge of dream analysis," Zoey told me. "Do you want me to help you interpret yours?"

  "Yeah, OK." And thought, what could it hurt?

  "What I think doesn't matter. I cannot interpret your dream for you. What I can do is help you identify your associations to the characters in your dream. Then you interpret it. OK?"

  "OK," I said again.

  "What does a gray sky mean to you? What feelings does it evoke?"

  "Sadness, despair, quiet, calm. All of those things."

  "What was the first thing that popped into your mind about the gray sky?"

  "Foreshadowing." I said it without thinking, but I knew it was really true.

  "Good. Now tell me what a fox means to you."

  "Predator."

  "Tell me why you thought the foxes looked hungry."

  "There was a caved-in look about them. Their ribs were showing. They had a hungry look in their eyes."

  "Tell me about the withered leg."

  "It was the back right leg. It wasn't functioning."

  She interrupted, "Tell me what you meant by 'withered.'"

  "Flesh and bone, thinner. It was just this withered thing hanging there. It didn't move with the other legs. It was smaller than the other three."

  "How did you know which fox was the leader?"

  "It was clear. The leader was out front. The others looked to him. He spoke for the group."

  "Were there any additional characteristics about him?"

  "Only once he morphed. Then he seemed more puffed up – like he was bolstering himself. The others just watched."

  "Tell me about your reactions in the dream."

  "I was calm in the dream – even when the fox bit me. I realized that he had bitten me, and I saw blood, but I didn't feel a thing. No pain."

  "Now, what do you make of that?" Zoey looked at me expectantly.

  "Well, I downplay the risk to myself in this investigation to protect those in my life who care about me. I see the gangsters as kids trying to bolster themselves to have power. I wonder if I might be misjudging these people or this situation."

  "Given that, what does this dream mean to you?"

  "Even though one fox has a withered leg and is hungry, and the leader is bolstering himself, they are still dangerous."

  "What else are you getting out of the dream?"

  "I think that it means that everything that has happened all comes back to me. They broke into my office, stole the addresses and phone numbers of my staff. Now those staff members are in danger. This gang came to my neighborhood in the Valley. The entire Valley will never have the same sense of security. My neighbors will all lock their doors now. It's all because of me and my job."

  "Whoa! Hold up a minute. How did you bring them into the Valley?"

  "Because of my job. Because they came there after me."

  "So, you caused them to come out to the Valley?"

  "Well, not really, but everyone in my life is at some risk of having contact with these thugs. If we don't round up this gang, the whole city will change."

  "And you see that as your job?"

  "To some degree. I mean, I have to do my part."

  "Are you always this responsible?" I just looked at her. "Does it ever get you into trouble?"

  "Is this still dream analysis, where I do all of the analysis?" I asked.

  She just laughed at me, lifted her eyebrows, and changed the subject. "Can you go back to sleep?"

  "I think I'll just head to work," I said.

  She got up with me, and we had coffee and toast. When it came time to leave, I felt a little sad. I had grown accustomed to her company. I couldn't remember the last time I had spent three-plus days with another human being. We kissed, wished each other a good day, and I left.

  Chapter 20

  The main roads to the office were clear. Even the parking lot of my building was plowed, and the snow banks were huge. In the winter, fewer parking permits are sold to allow for the snow banks, but the property owners still make a mint from the parking fees.

  Inside, the building temp. was around fifty degrees. I could almost see my breath. It was 6:15 A.M., and there wasn't a soul in sight. I guessed that the building manager would arrive at 7:30 to start up the heating system. Thank goodness for the portable heater under my desk.

  No one was around, and I relished the time in my office, making it through the huge pile of paperwork that had been accumulating. Jeannie had been moving documents from my mailbox as it became full, transferring them to my desk. I read and signed predisposition investigations, reference studies, progress and discharge reports, and tossed out all of the junk mail produced by possible referral sources for juvenile out-of-home placements. When I reached the end of the pile, it was eight o'clock.

  The office was filling up with employees, but it hadn't warmed up. Most of the staff were sitting at their desks clearing voice mail with their winter jackets still on. I vowed to complain to building management about this.

  I took a few minutes to catch up with the front office staff, and did a visual check of the schedule to see who was working where. Tuesdays are usually juvenile court day, but I predicted this day was going to be unique. I doubted that the PD had been mobile enough to make any arrests during the storm, so the only cases would be trials and probation violations. I checked the detention list, noting that the Detention Center was two over their maximum. I would have to remember to call and get the scoop on how they staffed that during the storm. I wondered who the poor souls were who started their shift Friday night. How Warren was coping with the night shift in the Intensive Unit was also on my mind.

  Lou and Char gladly joined me in my heated office for a powwow. Lou said he heard that the judge who presided over the decision about the transfer of Nichols from Juvenile Detention to the jail also got a threat. Char said she had had no other problems, and in fact a squad had kept an eye on her house all night. Lou refrained from bragging about his Jacuzzi suite view of the storm. We called Nate, who had nothing new to report. He would keep us posted. I wondered when the sting designed to flush out the leak would go down. I couldn't imagine what they had planned. I wished I could be a part of that.

  We all got back to the normal day-to-day office functioning. Nate said he would call Lou if he needed him. For now, it was a waiting game. The men and one boy we got out of the East Hillside house would be arraigned today. Char would cover that hearing and update the judge for bail consideration. I called the county attorney to make sure she knew the tie to the gang and possibly to the Toivunen murders so that she would request high bail. Latrell would be held on a no-bail violation of probation along with the new charges. No bail is customary on offenders with serious offenses who violate probation. The law allows it in only a couple of other circumstances such as murder or when the offender poses a serious imminent threat to public safety. I hate that "presumed innocent" thing. I would make a terrible juror.

  At 10:30, I got a call from Nate. He didn't have much, but I thanked him for keeping me posted.

  "We're still hoping to get another tip on Smithy Nichols. He is still at large. He likely has some minions working with him. I'm pretty sure he is their gun guy. That's Lou's take, anyway. The local news stations have been flashing his picture everywhere. If he goes out, we'll get him."

  After hanging up, I called the security agency that was installing my system. Having to think about security all of the time was really starting to piss me off. Being away from home and away from my dogs was also irritating me. When the receptionist answered, I got myself in check. The system would be in Wednesday. I agreed to meet with the installer in the morning. I could make it one more night. I kind of looked forward to talking to D. and K. about my first date.

  Following court, Char reported back that Latrell was held without bail. The other men had bail set at $500,000 each. That was good. Un
less they had a huge store of cash lying around, they weren't going anywhere, either. Many drug dealers did have access to large amounts of cash. The primary purpose of bail is to ensure appearance at court. If the defendant doesn't appear, he or she loses the bail. Five hundred thousand would be a lot to lose. Even for a drug dealer.

  Bail doesn't insure public safety. An alleged criminal can post bond just by finding a bondsman willing to write a bond that big. A bond is usually bought for ten percent of the total bail amount. It has to be secured by some real property. If the defendant doesn't show for court, the bondsman gets the assets used to secure the debt. Odds are they don't have legitimate assets.

  The juvenile was held in detention. He had no absolute right to bail. By my thinking, this is a much saner system.

  At the end of the day, I was beat. I called Kathy and offered to pick up groceries. She gratefully accepted, as their fridge was empty following the storm, and she provided me with a list. I picked up three quarts of ice cream on my own.

  Their place was clear of snow. They have a four-wheeler with a snow thrower on the front. I think Kathy loves to ride around on that thing. I had yet to dig out at my place.

  We made homemade pizza for dinner. Kathy and Donna were relentless in their quest for details about Zoey and me. While I didn't give them specifics, I did indicate that there was chemistry. Donna talked at length about how good it was to see me with someone who had her life together, not some "granola head." I never realized how she had felt about Dar. I asked her, "So why do you think Zoey and I will be compatible?"

  "You're both bright, energetic, and adventurous, but you are different enough to complement each other. She loves the outdoors, and so do you. She is into her work, and so are you; and well, I just thought you would look good together. You just look like you would make a couple."

  I was surprised by the fact that Donna saw me as bright, high energy, and adventurous. I laughed out loud about the "look good together" concept. "That's real scientific, isn't it?" I hugged her, and she just smiled up at me. At just slightly over five feet tall, she is just so huggable.