Killer Storm

by Jen Wright

  "What on earth are you thinking about?"

  "What is it like being a woman and being head of the FBI unit for this city?"

  "Truthfully, I don't think about it much. In the early days, I was aware I made some men uncomfortable and suspected that they had a regular comedy routine about me.

  Over the years, I guess they have come to accept me. They really just want to be treated with respect. I do that. It goes a long way. I also do good work and recognize the good work of my unit. A lesbian with a good work ethic can gain acceptance in the ranks. I think it's much, much harder for gay men."

  I didn't acknowledge that she had just come out to me, but I was a bit surprised.

  "If you don't mind my asking, are you out to your staff? I mean, do you talk about your partner? Bring her to work functions?"

  "Well, that was a long question. No, I don't mind you asking. Yes, I am out in the office. I talk about Sharon when it comes up, but no, I don't bring her to work functions. I don't take her because she has no interest in trying to mingle with that group. It would be cruel and unusual punishment. We do, however, go to dinner or an occasional movie with one of my fellow officers and his wife. It's a little lonely at the top as a lesbian. Honestly, I can't remember anyone ever asking me about it. Thank you. How is it for you?"

  "Well, I'm not the big boss, so I think it is a little easier for people to swallow. I try to work hard, and I think you are absolutely right, respect breeds respect in every case. I also try to give people the benefit of the doubt. I treat them as if they can handle it. I think that helps a lot."

  "That's a great practice. So, are you seeing anyone, Jo?"

  I think I actually blushed, laughed, and said, "Why, what have you heard?"

  "Oh, I see. This must be pretty new, and pretty amazing to make you blush. I don't think I have ever seen you blush before."

  I gave her the quick rundown on Zoey. She asked me what I liked about her. I had to stop and think about that for a moment. I had never asked myself that question.

  "She is bright. Fearless when it comes to trying new things."

  She raised her eyebrows at that.

  I blushed again.

  "She's secure. She asks and answers the hard questions. She's attractive. She's into her work, even passionate about it. She's kind and a good listener. She loves the outdoors."

  "And she's single? Well, you go for it. You deserve it. It sounds like you are in love."

  I blushed red-hot again. Damn it. There was that question again.

  She just smiled at me and said we should go to lunch sometime. It felt good to talk to someone in the field and be open. I agreed. She made a fresh pot of coffee, and we wandered to the lab with cups in hand. The lab technician was in the process of comparing the prints on the computer. He said he had already done a visual, and it was a good solid match. I was instantly pissed.

  "How many of Warren's fingerprints did you find on my file cabinet? Are you sure he actually broke into it?"

  "It's him, all right. We even lifted prints off of the contents of Lou's file. No doubt about it, he's your guy. It will stand up in court."

  "So, where do we go from here? If he did this, there's a better than average chance he's tied to the Gangster Mob."

  "I'm glad you see it that way," Sam said. "I want to tie him to it. With his visit to the jail and now this, it's enough for a warrant to search his house and office. I think I could get a judge to go for all bank and phone records, too. I’m no longer worried about his or my reputation. We could also just watch him for a while, see what develops."

  "I don't want him anywhere near clients." I was still angry. "Who knows what else he's been up to?"

  "I understand that, but if the search turns up nothing, all we have on him is breaking and entering. Because it was federally classified confidential data, he can be charged with a felony. That's why it's mine. If he knows we are on to him, he'll lie low."

  "What would he have in his house?"

  "Anything that ties him to Nichols or the other gang members would make this a crime committed for the benefit of a gang. He would do some real time. Not just probation."

  "I'm in favor of that. The sooner we get something on him, the sooner he is away from client contact."

  She walked me to the door with a promise to call me for lunch when the case was over. I told her I would love that. I also gave her my cell number so she could call me with the results of the search warrant. With any luck, she would call tonight.

  By the time I got back to the office, the workday was over. I took the opportunity to clear my mailbox, voice mail, and answering machine in peace. I also called Lou to check in. He was back working in the intensive unit, and he said he was fine. I didn't tell him about the search warrant or about Warren. I trusted him, but that information was "need to know." He would know soon enough. The intensive unit did carry police radios, but I doubted that the FBI would use them. If things went badly, he would know. Lou was still working the streets and hangouts for information on smalltime gang members we had not rounded up yet.

  It was six o'clock by the time I finished up. I called Zoey. She was fixing dinner and invited me over. As we settled into dinner, I realized that I was at a loss for words. I was also a little uncomfortable. She asked me what was wrong. I told her I didn't know. She said she would respect that and asked if it was about her. I told her I didn't know that, either. I felt like a heel. Now she was going to think I was having second thoughts. Quite the opposite was true. I was confused by how quickly I was falling in love with her – but I was not at all ready to talk about it. I knew this was not in keeping with my commitment to be more open. I thought maybe I just needed time to process it. When dinner was over, we sat in the living room for a while and just held hands in silence. It was the sweetest thing. I got up to leave and hugged her at length.

  I allowed myself to try to process all of it on the ride home. I really do love to drive and think. What I came to was the fact that I didn't have to figure it out. There is no real line about love. It is not an either/or thing. It just is. Even if I was falling in love here, there was much more I needed to learn about Zoey. We had not really had any conflicts yet. How would we handle that? What were her fears? How would they play out in the relationship? We had nothing but time in which to figure all of that out. How the heck was I going to explain this to Zoey? Shit!

  An uncomfortable feeling of inadequacy had settled over me. This was the feeling I had lived with for two of the three years with Dar. I didn't call Zoey that night. Instead, I beat myself up about it.

  Right after I fell asleep, I dreamed I was in an aquarium full of water. The glass of the aquarium and the water were distorting my images of the outside world. Zoey was looking into the aquarium at me. She was huge. Distorted. I was trying to talk to her, but the sound wouldn't carry. I was naked and wondered what her view of me was from the outside world. I felt both exposed and concerned that the image was wrong. I wanted her to see me for real.

  I woke up sweating. I wondered how I could breathe under water. I vowed to talk to her about the issue even if I didn't know how.

  I got to work by 7 A.M. after snowshoeing with the dogs for nearly an hour. I peered into Warren's office. I saw no sign of a search. I already knew there was no search because they would have had to call me to gain access after hours. I don't know what made me look.

  I called Zoey at 7:15. No answer. I didn't leave a message. Damn, I hoped she hadn't gotten the wrong impression.

  At 8:30, I called Sam. She was at her desk.

  "I was just about to call you. We executed that warrant last night at Warren's place. He's in custody. We found a stash of rock cocaine and some money. He was also in possession of a 38. That's the same caliber weapon used in the Toivunen family murder. I hope it's nothing, but we're running ballistics for a match. We're still checking his phone records. He had called a tidy little list of gangsters as well as kids. It looks like he was dealing drugs to kids at Central
High School."

  "Right under my nose!" I was pissed. This far surpassed my anger about him simply breaking into my files.

  She allowed me a minute of silence to cool down and collect my thoughts.

  "Right under all of our noses. The good news is that this has not been going on long. I doubt he has an offshore account or anything. I think we confiscated his entire stash of dirty money. He had about thirty thousand dollars tucked away in his workshop. He nearly cried when we found it. I do need to get into his office, though. I doubt he has anything in there, but I have to be sure. Can I do that during office hours?"

  "Thanks for the courtesy of asking. Yes, you can. The staff will know soon enough anyway. I'll brief them. I need to talk to the Chief. Warren's office was included in the warrant request?"

  "Yes, I'll bring it. You OK, Jo?"

  "Define OK. I'm pissed as hell. Sad, too. This will reflect badly on some incredible PO's."

  "That's how you handle the press release."

  "I hadn't thought of that."

  I called the Chief, who was on his way over to my office. He and I would address the juvenile staff together. Then he would bring the other units up to speed one by one.

  While we updated the staff, Sam and a small crew of crime technicians went through Warren's office. When she was done, she asked to speak to me in private. I escorted her back to my office and made us a fresh brew.

  "Jo, I'm going to try and leverage a deal with Warren."

  "You can't. He needs to go down for this."

  My voice was rising. My face was red.

  "I'm not asking."

  I sat there staring at her. Incredulous. So much for our new friendship.

  "What could you possibly gain from it?"

  "We don't know who murdered that family. We need to find justice for that. Nate is actually going to work that angle if we get anything from Warren. We have huge leverage with him. I think we can work a deal that will help to ensure he is not killed in prison. He could do time with white-collar criminals instead of violent criminals. As it is, if he ends up in a standard prison, he's toast. Cops and PO's don't fare well in jail. There are a few who can pull it off if they are big enough, or tough enough. He is neither of those. He's a two-bit slimeball. He would do the same amount of time, but he would get protection."

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  "Do you think he knows something? What about the ballistics?"

  "Well, the deal will be conditioned on information leading to an arrest. We're still awaiting results on ballistics, but I doubt he's capable of killing four innocent people in cold blood. Whoever killed that family looked them in the eye first. Enjoyed it. I've actually called a profiler from the Minneapolis office to try to get a better idea about who we're looking for. There's a chance we already have him in custody. In the event that we don't, we need to move fast here. Warren has been placed in isolation at the jail for his own protection, but it'll still be hard to protect him."

  "Thanks for the heads up, Sam, and let me know if there is anything you need."

  "I'll keep you posted."

  I sat there thinking about all of this. Would it ever be over? I was actually glad Warren was going to get some protection. He was a slimeball who had disgraced the entire office and abused his authority out of greed, but I thought prison would be justice enough. I don't believe in the death penalty or any type of vigilante justice.

  Sam hadn't given me a clue about when they were meeting with Warren, and it irked me a bit. I understood I was too close to it and should not really be involved. But I still felt frustrated. Helpless was more accurate.

  I called Zoey. She was not at her desk. I left a message for her to call me back on my cell. I was driving home that night when she called. I asked her if she would meet me at the Lake View Café. She said she would prefer to meet in private. I invited her to my house and told her to make herself comfortable if I was still out skiing with the dogs when she arrived. I was about to explain how she could disarm the security system when she interrupted me and said that she wouldn't be arriving until around seven. When I told her she was welcome to spend the night, she was silent.

  Chapter 29

  When I got home, I jumped into my ski boots and hit the trail with the boys. I ruminated about the possibility of Zoey not wanting to spend the night and the possibility that she wanted to end it. All of the bad possibilities kept circling through my mind.

  I tripped when one of my ski tips got snagged on a tree branch, and I crashed head first into a snowbank, ending up with a skinned nose. That was going to be attractive. Cocoa and Java offered their slobbery kisses and kept close to me the rest of the way home.

  Zoey arrived a little after seven with a wardrobe bag. I hugged her and motioned her into the kitchen. She watched as I made stir-fry. She laughed about my nose. I didn't tell her about my distracting thoughts and felt a little wrench in my gut about not telling her. We settled at the dining room table, which was unusual for us. We usually camped out on the floor.

  In my relationship with Dar, when something came up and I didn't talk about it, I found a way to justify it in my mind or minimized it by saying it was all in my imagination. In fact, if I look back on my many relationships, the great divide occurred at around one year. Something would happen, I'd resolve it within my own mind, and one of two other things would occur. I would either settle into a feeling of shame about my inability to risk talking about it, or I would minimize the importance of the problem. Soon I would have several little resentments building. The resentments with Dar were over how we kept the house. They would come out as nagging rather than talking about a possible compromise. I sat there, barely eating, thinking about this.

  Zoey said, "Can you tell me what you're thinking so hard about?"

  I looked up at her. Those green eyes were fixed on mine. She hadn't said it in a threatening way; instead, there was a slightly curious tone to her voice.

  "I was thinking about past relationships and how I didn't communicate. Can we talk about this after dinner, in front of the fire, when I can be touching you?"

  She smiled uncertainly and nodded. I picked at my food a little more and fed the rest to the dogs.

  Once dinner was over, we settled onto the floor with our backs to the couch. I stalled a little more by building a roaring fire. The house was silent except for the crackling of the logs, which we could hear through the glass fireplace doors. I took her hand. She positioned herself so that she could look into my eyes. I was not used to someone who could be so intimate out of bed. I squirmed a bit, still unable to speak.

  She said, "OK, I have an idea. Why don't we dance first? Just try and connect a little."

  I put Norah Jones on, cued it to the first song we had ever danced to, and slowly let myself relax into the dance. We moved in unison with no awkwardness. When the song was done, we settled back down to the floor. With the music turned down, I began to tell her what was on my mind.

  "I've been thinking about my past relationships and about what went wrong. I didn't talk to my partner about things that were on my mind. I avoided conflict. I had shame about it, which then made it harder to talk."

  "Is there something, uh, some conflict between us?"

  "No, that's not it at all. I was struggling to put something into words, and then just didn't. Then the whole cycle of shame kicked in. I was afraid you thought I was backing out of the relationship somehow or something else that wasn't true."

  "I was a little concerned last night. You seemed distant. Absorbed in your own thoughts. Do you have words yet?"

  "I think in part it has to do with my inability to let go with you. I don't mean sexually; that's easy for us. I mean with the rest of it. It's not you. I just can't quantify my feelings for you. We have this incredible physical relationship. I'm so comfortable with you in so many ways, and yet we have so much more to learn about each other." I gestured with my arms out for emphasis. "I also don't trust my intuition about intimate relation
ships. I feel so blind sometimes. It's like I'm navigating without a compass.

  "Someone asked me the other day if I was in love, and I blushed beet red. It caught me off guard. I think I was having difficulty sorting it all out. Then I thought, I don't have to figure this out. We have time. It is what it is. Like going to bed without setting the alarm, trusting that things will happen at the right time."

  She softened, and touched my hand. "Yes, I agree. Let's take our time. Savor it. If this relationship lasts, we only get one chance to fall in love for the first time. There is no right or wrong. I'm quite happy with things."

  "Me, too."

  She kissed me. We went to bed early and explored gentle lovemaking. The gentleness brought me to tears. They were not tears of joy or hurt but caused by the depth of emotion I was feeling. I felt like she knew me. I had never felt that with a partner. I also had not realized it was missing before.

  Chapter 30

  On my drive to work, I basked in a feeling of well-being – a feeling of deep relaxation and contentment. I was able to notice the incredible beauty of the lake shore drive.

  Unfortunately, work quickly brought me back down to earth. I called Sam first thing. It kind of irked me that she hadn't called me. She wasn't at her desk, so I tried her cell.

  "Persistent little bugger, aren't you?"

  "Bugger? Well, bugger me with some information about Warren, please."

  "I'm just leaving the jail. I'm not at a place where I can talk. Can you and Nate meet me?"

  "Sure, I'll set it up. Ground Under?"

  "Fine."

  "When?"

  "Now."

  I called Nate. He was out and about and beat me there. They were talking softly at a table in the back. I got a latte before joining them. They stopped talking abruptly when I neared. I did not like suddenly being on the outside of this. What did they think? That I had some undying loyalty to Warren? The news coverage had been brutal. My staff would suffer the ill effects of this for years. There was no loyalty to Warren.