by Neal Griffin
“Sergeant Sawyer?” The sound of his name and title heightened Ben’s fear.
“Yes.” He could manage only the single-word response.
“Sir, this is Darnell Reynolds. Corporal Reynolds. You remember me?”
Ben’s knees grew weak and his heart began to pound. The jail guard. He prepared himself for what he knew would come next. He caught himself praying for the first time in long memory: Just don’t let her be dead. Don’t let her be dead.
“Why are you calling?” he asked, his voice on the edge of panic.
“Sir, it’s about Tia. Tia Suarez.”
A rush of relief overwhelmed him even as his knees gave way and he sat. “Okay,” Ben said with a sigh as he caught his breath. “What about her?”
“Tia’s been shot, sir,” the man said calmly, though now Ben could hear the edge of emotion in his voice. “She was shot down in a place called Danville, Illinois.” Darnell pronounced the s and it came out as “Illi-noise,” making what he said sound all the more ridiculous.
Darnell began to provide the details. “I got a call from a friend who works on Tia’s shift. He said Danville PD called Newberg. Talked to the watch commander. Said Tia was with a detective in some café.” Darnell’s voice wavered between sentences, but Ben sensed the man was trying to be strong. “I’m at Newberg PD now. Everyone is talking about it. They say the other cop is dead and Tia’s in a hospital down there. They say she might not make it.”
Ben was shocked to the point of speechless, and the line was quiet until Darnell spoke again. “Hello? Sergeant Sawyer?”
“Yeah.” Ben couldn’t manage much more. “Yeah. I’m here, Darnell.”
“Everyone is trying to figure out why Tia was in Illinois. I didn’t know if you had heard. I mean, she’s your friend. She really likes you.” The man’s deep voice finally cracked.
Anger began to build. You’re right, Darnell. A cop who works for me has been shot and I don’t even get a courtesy call? No time for that now, Ben told himself.
“Where are you right now?” he asked. “Who’s there with you?”
Ben visualized the officer looking around as he spoke. “There’s just a bunch of patrol guys. The sergeant is gone. But everyone is talking about it. She’s in the hospital somewhere down there. In Illinois. What the hell was she doing in Illinois?”
Christ, this is frustrating, Ben thought. He knew that Darnell and Tia were friends and that the man was probably in some kind of shock, but Ben needed him to focus.
“I … I don’t know what we can do. Everyone is just—”
“Stay at the station,” Ben said, putting command into his voice. “In fact, tell everyone to stay there. I’ll call dispatch and tell them to have the sheriff’s deputies handle all calls within the city limits until further notice. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Ben hung up the phone. A Newberg officer had been shot and was in critical condition. Ben was not going to sit this one out and watch from the sidelines. Especially when that officer was Tia Suarez. A small, scared voice broke the silence.
“Dad?”
Ben looked up to see Jake’s fallen face staring back, as if he were preparing to brave some terrible news. Bernice had one hand to her mouth, expecting the worst. Her eyes had already begun to moisten. Jake spoke up. “What’s going on? Is Mom okay?”
Bernice moved in behind Jake and put her hands on his shoulders. Ben pulled a chair in front of his son and sat. “Mom is fine, Jake. That was a friend of Tia’s. You remember, Officer Suarez.”
Relief flooded over the young boy’s face. “Oh man, I thought—”
“Listen, Jake.” Ben reached out and put his hand around the back of his son’s neck. “Tia has been shot. She’s down in Illinois. I’ve got to go into work and figure out what’s going on.”
Bernie and Jake both gasped in shock. The anguish in Jake’s voice returned. “Shot? How? Is she dead? Who did it?”
“I don’t know any of that, but it might have something to do with your mom. Like I said, I’m going to work and try to find out the details. You stay with Aunt Bernie, okay?”
“But you said you wouldn’t work until Mom came home. You promised.” Jake’s voice conveyed a sense of betrayal.
“Did you hear what I said, Jake?” Ben expected his son to understand and didn’t hold back on his frustration. “Someone shot Tia Suarez. Our friend. I need to go.”
Bernice bowed her head and Ben stood from his chair, looking Jake in the eye. He did his best to convey the seriousness of the situation. “You need to understand. I’ll be home as soon as I can and we’ll talk about it, okay?”
“But Dad, what if—”
“Jesus, Jake. What if what?” The emotions boiled over. “Tia was probably trying to help Mom and somehow she got shot. I have to go.”
Jake practically jumped from his seat and screamed in response. “What if something happens to you? What if whoever it was comes after you? Just like they did Officer Suarez?” Jake’s voice finally cracked. “What then, Dad?”
Jake turned to run from the room. Before he could, Ben reached out and pulled his son close. At first Jake pushed back, but then Ben felt the boy’s arms go tight around his back. They stood holding one another in a long moment of silence. Ben was the first to step back. He gripped Jake around the shoulders and held him at a half arm’s distance. Jake swiped his moist eyes with the back of his hand, then dropped his arms awkwardly to his sides, embarrassed.
“Nothing will happen to me, Jake. I promise. I’m going to the department. I’m going to find out what happened. See if I can help. Before I do anything else, I’ll come back here and tell you, okay?”
Jake stared back, his face blank. Ben knew the boy was near his limit. He couldn’t take much more. His voice was hollow. “Yeah. Okay, Dad. I’ll stay here.”
“Don’t worry, Ben.” Bernice spoke up with a voice that conveyed more strength than either of the men in the room. Ben figured she knew not to ask questions now. Bernice was familiar with the crisis-driven nature of police work. She’d get the details later. “We’ll be fine. Get to work and find out what’s going on.”
Ben looked back to his son. The emotional outburst was over, and he could see Jake had already drawn himself back in. What the hell am I doing? Ben wondered to himself. Family comes first, Benjamin.
“Listen, Jake. I’ll call down—”
“No, Dad. I’m fine. You need to go. We’ll be okay.”
Jake looked at his father, and his careworn expression made Ben wonder how it would be when his son was an adult and dealing with the struggles of life. Would he be stronger because of all he’d been through in childhood, or would he be all used up? How would all of the turmoil ultimately shape his life?
Ben walked out the front door, his mind reeling. The well-being of his family, his wife, his son, his father-in-law, had consumed him for days. With barely any sleep and no interest in eating, at times he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on. Then, just when he had thought things might be looking up, the one person who had stood with him was shot and fighting for her life. Ben pulled the family van from the driveway knowing he had no choice. Now there was a new name on the list of people depending on him, and that name was Tia Suarez.
FORTY
Driving to the police department, Ben called Plate Boyd at home but got no answer. He remembered he had turned in the detective sergeant cell phone. He called the number. McKenzie picked up after the first ring.
“McKenzie, this is Ben Sawyer. Are you working?”
A long hesitation and static on the line indicated distance in Ben’s mind.
“Yeah. I’m working, but you’re not. What the hell do you want? You’ve been given some time off, remember?” Even now McKenzie couldn’t resist a cheap shot. Ben ignored it.
“I heard about Tia Suarez getting shot. Is it true?”
“Yeah. It’s true. About six hours ago in Illinois. Boyd and I are on our way down there right now.”
“Boyd’s with you? Put him on.”
“This is none of your concern,” McKenzie snapped. “We got it handled.”
Ben heard Plate Boyd’s voice in the background, demanding the phone.
“Yeah, Ben. It’s Plate.”
“Plate, what the hell is going on?”
Boyd sounded overwhelmed. “We don’t know anything yet. I was going to call you, but can you at least give me time to drive down there?”
Ben shot back. “She worked for me, Plate. She’s a friend of mine. I want to know how she is.” There was a silence on the other end, and Ben wondered if he had lost the connection. “Plate?”
“It’s not good, Ben. They say she’s pretty shot up. They got to her quick; she’s in surgery. I don’t know any more than that. Shot down in Danville, southwest of Chicago. She was in a local diner with a detective from the PD down there. The detective is dead on scene.”
Ben’s hands were shaking. He forced his car to the side of the road. Damn, Tia. What did you get into?
“You still there?” Plate asked. “Sawyer? You there?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I’m … I’m just a little blown away.”
“Now you know as much as I do. McKenzie and I will be in Danville in about an hour.” Ben could sense a softening in Boyd’s tone as the crackling of the line eased for a moment.
“Look,” Plate said, “I know you two are tight. I know she respects the hell out of you. You should’ve got a call.” Boyd paused. “When I find out more, I’ll get a hold of you.”
Ben held a short debate on whether or not to tell Boyd about the angle Tia was working. He decided against it, his gut telling him he could trust Boyd but no way was he giving the info to McKenzie.
“Okay. Thanks, Plate. I’ll wait to hear from you.”
The conversation over, Ben sat in his car and gave some thought to what he’d heard.
“What the hell happened, Tia?” Ben asked out loud. He remembered Tia talking about the nine one one call, saying something about a way to track down the caller. Now she was hundreds of miles from home, shot, and another cop was dead.
Ben put the car in Drive and headed for the Newberg Police Department. A cop on his department had been shot in the line of duty, and suspension or no suspension, he needed to be with other cops.
FORTY-ONE
By the time Ben arrived, every officer who worked for Newberg PD was in the building. For most, the experience of an officer being shot was something new, but Ben called on his years at Oakland PD and took a leadership role. He visited with his fellow cops and spoke of solidarity. No bad thoughts. Tia was strong. Others took solace from his words, and there were no references to the case against Alex or Ben’s current suspension. The fact that Jorgensen was nowhere to be found was lost on no one. Ben could feel the rekindling of a connection. He moved to his old office that had been taken over by Plate Boyd. He gave some thought to driving to Danville himself but realized it would only hinder the investigation. He’d just have to wait. He sat for hours, talking with a few officers that stopped in. Trying to offer encouragement. Finally Boyd returned.
As soon as the older man walked in, Ben could see that the rotund sergeant was caving under the pressure of current circumstances. Plate willingly gave up the details of the case, and it seemed to Ben that Plate was looking for some guidance.
“This is a tough one. You doing okay?” Ben asked.
Plate sat in silence. Looking at Ben, he shrugged his shoulders as if to signal early defeat.
“If I were you, I’d let Danville do the work,” Ben said, trying to sound encouraging. “Our guys should just work parallel. Multijurisdictional cases are always complicated; just try to keep everyone on the same page. I mean, obviously you want to be in the loop on everything, and if Tia was down there on a duty-related issue, we’ve got a responsibility to her. We need to make sure they do right by her.”
Ben paused, then asked the obvious question. “Any idea what she was doing in Danville?”
“Seems like they were talking about a local case,” Plate said. “Some hooker who got beat to death with a ball bat. The case file was found at the scene.”
Plate looked at Ben with an air of nervous inquisitiveness. “You know anything about that? Why Suarez would be poking her nose around in Danville?”
Ben thought back to his conversation with Tia and decided to be up front about what he knew.
“Tia came by my house this morning.” Ben looked at his watch and saw it was after one A.M. “Technically, yesterday. She wanted to talk about Alex’s case; she was zeroed in on the nine one one call that came into the PD the night Carson was murdered. She wanted to try to ID the caller. I told her to hold off on it. Anyway, even if she didn’t listen to me, why Danville?”
Boyd was shaking his head as Ben went on. “Something must have developed. Something got her down there. The detective she was with—I’m betting he was the one working the local homicide?”
“Yeah.” Boyd seemed reluctant. “Real hot-shot guy. Worked Chicago PD for most of his career. Even worked lead on a couple of big-time mob cases. Made a lot of enemies. Transferred to this sleepy little town to get away from it all. Looks like somebody decided to track him down. From what everyone down there said, he was a hell of a cop.”
“How bad was it?” Ben asked, not really wanting to know the answer but certain that he had to, in order to understand what had happened.
“They got caught flat-footed, that’s for sure. Both their guns were still holstered. Whoever this bastard was, he went at ’em with what looks to be a three-eighty. No brass left behind, so we’re figuring a revolver. Seale, the Danville detective, he took two at close range to the back of his head. I don’t imagine he felt a damn thing.” Plate paused, as if taking a moment to contemplate the idea of such an end. His voice grew louder when he went on. “Suarez, by the looks of it, she put up a hell of fight. The ER doc says she took one to the right side that shattered a rib and then got lodged inside somewhere. A second shot was a through-and-through in her gut. From what he said, her vital organs are okay but her blood loss was crazy. They got her to a hospital in about seven minutes. Somehow she was still alive. Last I checked she was hanging in there.”
After a long pause, Ben said, “Tia got wind of something. Something about our case led her to Danville. Whatever it was, it got her shot and this other detective whacked.”
Plate jumped all over the comment like he had been waiting for it. “Horseshit, Ben. This has nothing to do with the murder of Louis Carson.”
“Come on, Plate. Someone is trying to keep us from making a connection between these two murders. What other explanation is there?”
“Like I said, this Seale fella worked the big time. This was a real hit. Even the shot to the face.” Plate was working to dismiss a conclusion Ben could tell he didn’t want to draw. “Well, not the face but the head. Same damn thing. That’s what these OC types do when they want to show disrespect.” The lack of confidence in his voice betrayed him. Ben figured Plate was repeating what he’d heard from someone familiar with the ins and outs of organized crime.
“Anyway, they’re pulling guys in from his old unit in Chicago to work on it. Maybe even state boys from the attorney general’s office. There’s nothing for us to do but stay out of it and wait to hear about Suarez.” Plate tried to put a finishing touch on the conversation. “I think Tia just picked a bad day for a road trip.”
Ben didn’t hold back. “You’re wrong. Whoever shot Tia is the same guy who killed Louis Carson. I’ll bet my life on it.”
Plate’s large body shot from the chair. “Goddamn it, Sawyer. Don’t go making this into something it ain’t.”
“Plate, Tia was at my house, talking about the Carson case, two hours before she got shot. That means after she left my house, she hightailed it for Danville. You’re going to ignore that?”
“What the hell do you want me to do?” Plate looked across the desk. “Ben, I’m sorry, but your wife�
�s case is closed. It’s headed for trial, and that’s that. I know it’s hard, but you need to come to grips with it.”
Both men fell silent until Plate waived his hands in the air as if signaling surrender. “Hell, I need to get some sleep. This place is gonna be crazy in the morning. Jorgensen told me to handle the press and the investigation. He’s not sure he’ll even be in tomorrow. Can you believe that shit? A cop from his own PD is shot and that prick gets pissed about a wake-up call. I hate dealing with that asshole.”
With his hand on the doorknob, Plate turned to look at Ben. “You gonna be okay? I know having to sit this out is hard. Believe me, I’d love to turn the whole mess over to you.”
Ben stared at the older officer but said nothing. Plate pulled a single sheet of folded paper from his pocket.
“Here,” Plate said. “Danville detectives put it together from witness statements. Something tells me you’re gonna need it more than I will. I can always get another copy.”
Plate tossed the paper onto the desk. Ben saw it was a black-and-white composite sketch. The face was all angles and bone. The eyes were set close, the features handsome but reeking of danger. WANTED FOR MURDER BY DANVILLE PD appeared in bold type across the top.
“But I’m telling you, Ben. You get caught poking around in this mess, Jorgensen will fry your ass. In case you don’t already know, he ain’t particularly fond of you.” Plate left, closing the door firmly behind him.
Left alone, Ben stared hard at the face on the paper. The eyes took on a life and the mouth sneered in defiance.
Who are you?
Ben knew Plate was right. Alex’s case was as good as decided, and it wouldn’t be easy to stop a train that was running at full steam. The shooting of Tia Suarez would be dismissed as irrelevant. He needed more. He had to overwhelm the energy of the state’s case, sink it with an indisputable knockout blow. Alex’s words echoed in his mind: I need you, Benny.
Ben put his hands to his face and tried to rub away his frustration and guilt. His wife needed him. She didn’t want anyone but him. With all that had happened in their lives, she still reached out to him and no one else. Rage forced Ben to his feet. He grabbed the sheet of paper from the desk and stepped into the hallway. Officers, still dazed from the turn of events, stepped aside as their sergeant stared straight ahead, acknowledging no one, and left the building.
