by Annie Bruce
His words brought her back to reality.
“And tell your boys.”
The severity of his tone made her catch her breath. “I will.”
When she saw him open the door to leave panic set in. She wanted him to stay. She needed him to stay.
“Would you like to come back for dinner?”
Once again words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them. She felt both regret and a sense of anticipation.
“I’m sorry,” she stumbled over her words. “It’s not a good idea, is it?”
“No, it isn’t.”
The sexual tension in the air thickened. She wanted to run and hide but couldn’t. Her feet wouldn’t cooperate. As usual, her heart took the lead.
“I just thought that perhaps we could talk about the case some more, and–” she paused struggling for her next words.
“What time?”
“What?” Her head shot up, her eyes locking with his.
“What time is dinner?”
“Is seven too late?”
“No.”
Almost breathless and excited that he accepted her invitation she couldn’t quell that little voice telling her it was wrong. It was, wasn’t it?
“Then seven it is. Shall I bring something?”
Maggie was still lost in amazement that he had accepted.
“For tonight.” The sensual tones of his deep voice vibrated through the air.
She shook her head. “No, no – I have everything I need already.”
“Make sure you lock everything up behind me, Maggie.”
“I will.” Anticipation for the evening ahead made her breathless. She didn’t know why she was acting like a school girl on her first date. It felt wonderful and confusing at the same time.
He turned once again to go, walked a few steps then stopped, spinning back around. “We’re going to solve this Maggie, I promise.”
“Thank you.” Gratitude replaced her fear and a sense of calmness returned to her world.
Morris walked to his vehicle mulling over the events of the day. Careful not to make promises he couldn’t keep, he needed to solve the mystery of Owen Cassidy’s death regardless the outcome. The look of relief on Maggie’s face emboldened his determination.
Suddenly, Maggie Faraday became a top priority in his life, both in work and pleasure. The pleasure was the part he wanted to explore the most, but that would have to wait. Dinner tonight was the most he could allow himself until this case was solved and put in the closed case file drawer - this time for good.
Her sudden offer for dinner was spurred by fear but he’d take what he could get. A nagging voice warned him that he was stepping over an official line of conduct but at the moment it was the furthest thing from his mind. He was following his instincts as a detective – and his heart – unsure which he wanted to listen to more
Traveling in reverse flow of afternoon traffic it didn’t take long for him to return to the station. Soon traffic would move at a snails pace as commuters attempted to rush home to their families. Tonight would be the closest he’d come to being a part of a family in a very long time.
Back at the station the mishap arrangement of desks in the large open space were nearly empty. Carlton Davis stood by a file cabinet on the far wall leafing through a large stack of papers.
The younger man jumped at the sound of Morris dropping his notebook on his desk. Papers spiraled to the floor into a disorganized mess and Davis scurried to retrieve them.
‘Detective Morris!” Davis was now on the floor, desperately grabbing papers without regard to their order. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Obviously,” Morris eyed the papers on the floor.
“What’s going on?” wanting to know where everyone had gone.
“The Captain asked me to research some crime reports for him.” He didn’t correct the other man’s misunderstanding of his question.
Bending down to help pick up what remained of the scattered mess of reports and photographs Morris noticed the name on the file.
“The Maryville case?” he eyed Davis suspiciously.
“Why would the Captain have you looking into a case that’s been closed for more than two years?”
“I’m compiling statistics on solved and unsolved crimes.”
Morris was unconvinced but had more pressing matters occupying his time.
“Where is everybody?”
“The Mayor’s press conference.”
The Captain had ordered all available officers to be present at the Mayor’s press conference for a show of force. Looked like he’d be in trouble after all.
Chapter 7
The Mayor’s press conference was ending just as Morris arrived. The Captain faced the stoic head of the city, feigning interest in every word the seasoned politician said.
Chicago’s reputation as The Windy City was largely associated with the fierce prairie winds that howled across the northern part of the state, winding their way through the concrete canyons created by the giant pillars of the city that created its famous skyline. In reality, the name was earned in the late1800's due to the boisterous and overly talkative politicians that dominated the news of the day. Not much had changed since then.
Morris hoped to avoid detection as he tried to blend in with the crowd, but the Captain, like a watchful parent seemed to have eyes in the back of his head – or, a rat in every corner.
He felt more than saw Geridano slowly work his way through the crowd to stand next to him. “Not a good idea to keep the Captain waiting.”
Morris held his breath, and tongue, ignoring his nemesis. A public scene would only invite unwanted attention.
Undeterred, Geridano continued. “He was asking where you were, didn’t know what to tell him.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.” Morris stood firm watching him from the corner of his eye while appearing to stare straight ahead, a trick he learned in the army serving as a Military Policeman on the Demilitarized Zone between North and South Korea.
“No, but the Captain just might be interested in knowing you’re dating a witness.”
Morris’ spine became rigid as the other man postured for a confrontation.
“Watch your back, Morris. Watch your back.”
A desire to warn him to do the same caused him to grit his teeth as Geridano slinked away like the snake he was. Discretion being the better part of valor he held back, having enough explaining to do with the Captain already.
As the mayor’s speech came to an end, Morris looked around the crowd to see who else was in attendance. It looked like more than one detective was missing.
“Before I end today, I’d like to take a moment and remember my dear friend, Owen Cassidy who passed away suddenly yesterday. He was a great friend and will be truly missed.”
The mayor’s booming voice broke into the unexpected silence a moment later. “Thank you all for coming today.”
Applause erupted as the mayor stepped away from the podium. Holding up his hands in pretend modesty he mingled with the crowd closest to him, a well-practiced smile plastered on his face.
The mention of Owen Cassidy - today of all days - provoked the detective in him to investigate why. It was suppose to be a ceremonial recognition of fallen police officers and a statue built in front of city hall to keep their memory alive. Watching the mayor maneuver skillfully through the small elite crowd at the front that included the Captain, he saw an opportunity to make his exit unnoticed.
As he moved easily through the crowd, the hairs on the back of his neck bristled at the feeling he was being watched. Surveying the throngs of people and police officers in and out of uniform, nobody stood out. His surveillance halted when a dark car matching the description of the one near Maggie’s house pulled away from the crowd and onto a side street. Moving slowly, the vehicle’s tinted windows kept him from easily identifying the driver or its occupants.
Weaving his way further through the crowd, now oblivious to the pers
on who was watching him, he neared the edge of the crowd just as the car pulled away. A hand abruptly grabbed his arm pulling him back and he tensed, preparing for battle while still focused on the license plate of the car pulling further and further away.
“Detective Morris!”
He recognized the voice – the Captain’s second-in-command.
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
“The Captain wants a word with you.”
This didn’t sound good.
He turned and followed Lieutenant Baxter back through the crowd he had pushed through just moments ago.
“Captain, I found Detective Morris.”
The senior officer turned and fixed a look on Morris that made him stand up straight.
“Detective Morris!” he didn’t like the sound of how the Captain said his name.
“Yes, Captain?” Morris held his head high, his voice firm and in control, resisting the urge to snap to attention.
“Looks like you have some explaining to do.”
At a loss for word, Morris stood still feeling the heat from everyone’s staring eyes as the Captain chastised him.
“Report to my office in fifteen minutes!”
Morris struggled to keep is mind on his driving as he headed back to the station for what he sensed would be a reprimand. When he arrived, the Lieutenant stood waiting outside the Captain’s office. They made eye contact, and a chill ran through his body. Each man took measure of the other before entering.
The Captain stood gesturing for Morris to take a seat. Suddenly it felt more like an interview than a dreaded reprimand. When the Captain finally spoke Morris braced himself for bad news as The Lieutenant stood guard.
“Detective Morris we know you’ve been seeing Maggie Faraday.”
“I beg your pardon, sir.”
The Captain leaned forward, resting his forearms on his desk and locked eyes.
“You were at her house today for quite awhile.”
“I’m conducting an investigation.”
“And you’re going back for dinner.”
Morris’ stomach tightened as the conversation took an unexpected turn. He was conducting an investigating and she was a witness. Catching the call that day was a random event - or was it?
Resentment permeated his body. Ready to defend himself if necessary, his mind a whirl of activity as he tried to sense what was coming next.
The Captain stood suddenly – so did Morris. It was an automatic response. When a senior officer stood so did the subordinate.
Just as suddenly, the Captain walked out of his office and into the main station area where the detectives routinely gathered to solve the crime of the day. He paused for just a moment then said loud enough for others to hear, “Come with me Detective,” another pause, “NOW!
An uneasy feeling gnawed at the pit of his stomach as all eyes turned in his direction. He held his head high, yet felt like the condemned walking the proverbial plank. One minute the Captain was speaking to him with civility the next he was barking orders. Morris did the only thing he could – he obeyed.
Led into an interrogation room at the back of the building, Morris found himself isolated from the rest of the station. Decades ago when the police station was first built the room was used to unofficially interrogate suspects. Today it was more of a liability given the public’s distaste for even a hint of police brutality.
Did the Captain have unofficial plans for Morris?
“After you Detective,” it wasn’t an invitation. All three men gathered uncomfortably in the small room and Morris braced himself for the worst possible outcome as sweat dripped down the back of his neck.
“Relax, detective.” The Captain’s tone changed with the closing of the door.
“Lieutenant, are you sure nobody can hear or see us?”
“Yes, Captain. I’ve taken care of everything.”
Morris’ uneasiness returned as he looked at the faces of the two men crammed in the room with him. He prepared himself to fight his way out if necessary.
“Very well, then.” The Captain eyed Morris carefully. “Detective, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
Morris’ eyes fixed on the Lieutenant as he opened a side door that led to a connecting observation room. In walked a distinguished-looking older gentleman.
“Detective Morris,” The Captain’s voice broke through the sudden silence in the room. “I’d like you to meet Owen Cassidy.”
A thick silence hung in the stale air of the tiny room while everyone waited for his response. His usual skills at quickly sizing up the situation and taking control momentarily eluded him.
“Does Maggie know?” Morris fixed his stare on the older gentleman as he asked the question.
“No, “he lowered his eyes. “No she doesn’t.”
“Just what the hell is going on, sir!” Morris’ voice held his irritation as he turned towards the Captain.
“Sorry about the little show back there detective but it’s imperative that as few people as possible know what’s going on.”
“And I seem to be one of them.”
“Why don’t we all sit down,” the Captain’s voice regained its authoritative tone.
“How is Maggie - Detective Morris, isn’t it?” The older man was first to speak, clearly worried.
“She’s alive and safe and yes it’s Detective Morris,” answering the questions in the order they were asked.
“Owen.” The Captain’s voice was gentle but firm. “Let me bring Detective Morris up to speed.”
“That would be nice,” Morris couldn’t hide his sarcasm. He felt the Lieutenant’s glare and saw anger flicker across the Captain’s face.
“I know you must have many questions, Detective Morris, but let me give you the overall picture and we’ll address your questions later.” The Captain paused suggesting that Morris had a say in the matter but he knew better. They both did.
“Owen, er, Mr. Cassidy owns Titanium Enterprises, one of the largest industrial products companies in the world. Materials are bought and sold from every country imaginable, except where there’s a specific ban by the federal government. At least, Mr. Cassidy thought so.”
Morris looked over to find the older man studying him up.
“We have an undercover operative in the organization,” the Captain continued, “but we’ve been unsuccessful in finding out who’s running the illegal operation. That’s when Mr. Cassidy here decided to take matters into his own hands,” casting a stern look at the older man, “and without consulting me.”
“I didn’t think I had a choice, Charles. Somebody’s using the company I built from scratch to not only commit a crime but bleed me dry. I won’t sit by and let that happen.”
“Calm down, Owen. Nobody’s asking you to let the criminals get away with anything, but you can’t compromise my undercover officer either. Now you came to me for help and I told you then that we did it by my rules or we didn’t do it at all.”
Morris watched the exchange between the two men. He’d never heard the Captain called by his first name before nor seen him as caring yet firm.
“What about Maggie.” Morris interjected to bring the situation back into focus.
“What about her?” Cassidy’s voice broke.
“Do you realize how much danger you’ve put her in!”
Cassidy looked down.
“That’s where you come in, detective.” Morris looked away from Cassidy and locked eyes with the Captain.
“Just what is it that you’re asking me to do, sir?”
“Well, two things, detective.” He leaned forward. “First I want you to protect Ms. Faraday.” He paused and leaned back, twirling a pencil in his left hand.
“And, the second?”
“I’m asking you to solve Mr. Cassidy’s murder.”
The day got stranger by the minute.
“But, sir, he’s obviously alive.”
“Yes, but there are only five of us who know that.”
Morris raised an eyebrow. “Who’s the fifth?”
“Max, my driver.”
Some of the pieces were beginning to fit.
“Does he drive a black sedan with plates YZW 861?”
“Yes, that’s the car, detective. Mr. Cassidy instructed Max to keep an eye on Ms. Faraday,” the Captain admonished as he sternly regarded his friend, “–another thing Mr. Cassidy did without seeking my advice.”
“I was worried about Maggie.” The old man’s voice broke as he attempted to defend himself. “I got her into this mess after all.
Morris took out his notebook and flipped to his notes from the interview with Maggie and Mrs. Rivers.
“Is he about six foot one, dark brown hair, wears a dark blue overcoat and black gloves?
“Why, yes, how–?”
“Maggie and her neighbors reported him as a suspicious character in the neighborhood.”
“I see.” Cassidy paused for a moment. “I was just trying to make sure Maggie was okay.”
“It’s best to leave police work to the police, sir.”
“I see that now.”
“And with Detective Morris on the case, Owen, it should be easy to do.”
“Excuse me, Captain, but –”
“You will help Maggie, won’t you?” The older man sounded desperate as his eyes pleaded with him.
Morris snapped his head back and forth finally resting his gaze on Cassidy noting the look of fear in the other man’s eyes. They both had one thing in common. They both wanted to protect Maggie.
Turning towards his superior, “Just what is it that you want me to do, sir?”
“Keep your dinner date with Ms. Faraday this evening.”
“And, then?”
“Owen does Maggie still have the documents the two of you were working on when we had to announce your suicide?”
“Yes.” The older man’s look expressed the confusion Morris was feeling.
“Good. Then detective, it’s important that you find out as much as you can from those documents with Ms. Faraday’s help.”
“Am I to tell her that Mr. Cassidy’s alive?”
