Close Encounters

by Kitt, Sandra

  Matthew gazed at her. “I miss you, you know.”

  Her smile was sad, but Carol said nothing. Matthew got comfortable on the bed and reached an arm around her, encouraging her to lie against him. She did so without hesitation. This, too, was familiar. The sweet, loving thing that she remembered. Carol closed her eyes.

  It didn’t feel the same anymore.

  Carol wasn’t sure what to say to him. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings. She didn’t want to lash out at him, as she knew she had done in the past. She frowned at the memory of the person she had been then.

  Matt reached out carefully to touch the gauze patch that covered the healing wound on her chest. His fingertips were gentle as he explored the skin around the pad. “How does it feel?”

  “Still tender and sore. Itchy.”

  His fingers broadened their exploration in small, stimulating circles. Carol lay still, watching Matt’s face as he began a coaxing foreplay. She was not unmoved by the teasing sensations he evoked in her, but she was determined not to repeat that night of several weeks ago. It had been right that night. Now it wasn’t.

  “We can’t go back, Matthew,” Carol said quietly.

  “I know. I just needed to say what I’m feeling.”

  “Anyway… you’re not going to tell me you don’t have women all over you.”

  “No, I can’t say that,” he replied. Resigned, he stopped stroking her and settled back. “But I haven’t loved anybody else since you. Not the same way.”

  “Matt, I…” Carol began. Her phone rang.

  “Chill out. I’m not going to propose again,” he said as he picked up the cordless on Carol’s nightstand and passed it to her.

  Carol took the unit. She continued cuddling next to Matt, comfortable with the closeness.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi. It’s Lee.”

  “Hi,” Carol responded with instant enthusiasm. She glanced surreptitiously at Matt to see if he could detect her interest. “How did it go last night?”

  “Not bad,” Lee answered. “The situation was contained pretty quickly. No one hurt,” he added.

  Carol recognized the afterthought. Perhaps Lee was reassuring her that use of excessive force was not always the first response when he was involved.

  She conjured up an image of him and wondered where he was. She was suddenly very conscious of her position in Matt’s arms, which gave her the peculiar notion that she was being unfaithful. She tried to sit up, and Matt removed his arm to make it easier for her.

  “That’s good,” she murmured.

  “Are we still on for today?”

  “Yes,” Carol answered. She watched as Matt got up and took the tray to the kitchen.

  “How about this afternoon?” Lee suggested. “Around one or so, if that’s okay.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Good. See you then.”

  “Thanks. ’Bye.”

  Carol hung up. She contemplated the nervous tension that gripped her like a warning, telling her that she was headed into unknown territory. Yet equally strong was a compelling need to act on her curiosity about Lee. She recalled Wesley’s opinion of the police. He’d painted a horrific picture of how they would plot to protect their own. But what was it they thought they had to protect themselves from? Carol wondered. It was a siege mentality that she had not detected in Lee. She didn’t know if that was because he didn’t have it, or because he only wanted her to think he didn’t.

  It was also beginning to feel bizarre to continue to speak about what had happened as “that morning.” As if it was set apart from the rest of her life. A unique ending or a compelling starting point. Carol was sure now that Lee had been just as strongly affected as she had been.

  “I gotta go out in a little while,” Matthew announced, returning to the bedroom.

  “Do you? I could use your help with a few things.”

  “Is this where you make me pay for my keep?”

  “Sort of. Breakfast in bed was sweet, Matt, but… you really haven’t been around all that much.”

  “But what would you have done without me?” Matt asked, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

  “I would have managed somehow. Don’t misunderstand me. I… appreciate that you were willing to be here, but—”

  He lifted his shoulders in resignation. “You’re reminding me I was the one who screwed up before, aren’t you?”

  Carol caught a glimpse of the Matthew who had captured her attention, won her trust, and then broken her heart.

  “Let’s not go into this again,” Carol said with a hint of annoyance in her tone. “I can make a list as long as my arm of the stuff I did wrong. Bottom line? It’s over. I don’t think the reasons matter much anymore.”

  “We could have made it work,” Matthew insisted.

  “I don’t think so. I wanted things from you you couldn’t give me. You needed me in the same way.”

  Matt glared at her in disbelief. “It sounds like you’re saying you didn’t love me.”

  She sighed in exasperation and got off the bed. “I’m saying that love wasn’t enough. We married for the wrong reasons. And we didn’t break up because you messed around with some groupie at a club or I was unforgiving and too demanding. I’m sorry, Matt, but I’m glad it ended before we had a house, a car, money, or kids.”

  “I sure tried to make the last part happen.”

  She shook her head. “I made sure it didn’t. We weren’t ready for that.”

  She headed for her closet to select clothing for the day, anxious to end the conversation. It made her feel restless to be having it out with Matt, knowing that Lee was coming to see her later. “Are you working tonight?” she asked. “I should come and hear you play.”

  “Yeah. We’ll have to set that up.”

  Carol followed his movements as he, too, got dressed. It was almost like old times, the way they fell right back into sharing space together, getting things done and getting along. But it was exactly that sense of déjà vu that confirmed for Carol that the past could not be recaptured, and it couldn’t be changed.

  When Matt was dressed he went to take the garbage to the basement. He returned with the daily paper.

  “You’d better take a look at this,” he said, opening the paper to a specific article.

  Carol took a cursory glance, her stomach doing a somersault at the headline. She shook her head.

  “I don’t want to read it.”

  “They don’t even mention their part in what happened,” Matt said. “You can’t trust the cops. Lying-ass sons of bitches. Always trying to blame someone else for their mistakes. You could make them tell the truth.”

  “The truth? Which truth?” Carol asked. “That won’t change the fact that I’ve been shot. Or that my dog is dead.”

  He dropped the paper on a chair in disgust. “You know what they say about the truth. It can set you free. Hell… right now it could make you rich.”

  Carol reflected that Matt’s need to wreak revenge on the police seemed to have less to do with her than with his own point of view as a black man. He’d never had any trouble with the law, but clearly he wanted retribution for the past, present, and future victimization of black men.

  “The fact that it was a black woman who was shot adds fuel to the fire,” he said.

  If that was true, then Carol didn’t want to stoke the flames. Her stomach positively rebelled against the prospect of another all-out protest. She could still remember the scenes from her childhood—people facing off over who she was and where she belonged, who had the right to love and raise her… as if she was property. Her parents on one side of the issue, strangers on the other. White against black. She remembered being pulled this way and that over a matter that became more complicated than it needed to be.

  She couldn’t do it again.

  And yet, what was the difference between the hotbed of unrest being stirred up by the newspapers, Matt, her brother, and what she was knowingly walking int
o as she met with Lee Grafton again and again?

  “I like something that my father taught me even more,” Carol said, reflecting on the inevitable conflict of interests. “What doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger.”

  “Have you seen the papers today?” Anthony asked, dropping a copy onto the squad table.

  There were three other members of the team present, but only Barbara showed an interest, grabbing the newspaper immediately. She didn’t have to ask Anthony what item he thought they would be interested in. She thumbed through until she found the column devoted to the latest story on police activity and read through the brief update. And then she read it again.

  Anthony laughed. “Sometimes it just don’t pay to be honest. I don’t know where the reporter got that story, but I’m sure glad the heat is off us.”

  Barbara was not ready to celebrate yet. “It doesn’t say much,” she complained.

  “It says everything I want to hear,” Anthony said, checking the weekly assignment sheet and grabbing a mug of coffee. “That two members of our squad are no longer considered the only people who might have accidentally shot an innocent civilian three weeks ago.”

  “I bet most people don’t even remember what happened three hours ago, let alone three weeks ago,” Dave put in.

  “Well, I remember,” Barbara murmured.

  “Hey!” Anthony admonished her. “How come you’re worried now? When everything went wrong that morning you were as gung ho as the rest of us to say screw the newspaper accounts. You should be glad someone else is on the hot seat.”

  Barbara impatiently pushed the newspaper aside, drawing silent looks from her colleagues. “It’s not over yet. We don’t have a name or a warm body to fill the seat. We’re blowing smoke,” she said, getting up from her chair.

  “If you’re thinking about Willey and Mario, who gives a shit?” Dave said easily. “Isn’t this what we wanted? Smoke them out and get their asses in here? Chill out, Barb.”

  “Take it easy,” Anthony said, putting up a hand to Dave for silence. “How about a little compassion? Maybe it’s that time of the month.”

  The comment, which normally would have provoked a sharp comeback from Barbara, drew only stony silence. She jumped up suddenly from her chair.

  “Hey, Barb…” Dave began.

  “I need this for a minute,” she said, snatching the paper and abruptly leaving the room.

  Distracted, Barbara didn’t bother knocking on Lee’s office door. Lee, in conversation with another officer, looked up in surprise when she walked in. His conversation was cut off in midsentence.

  “I want you to see this,” Barbara began.

  “I’ll catch you later, Lee,” the other officer said. “Thanks for your advice on that scheduling matter.”

  “No problem. Come back or call if you need to.”

  Barbara mumbled an apology to the departing officer, and regained some of her self-control. Lee studied her closely.

  “What’s up, Barb?”

  Barbara held the paper out to him, but he didn’t bother taking it from her.

  “I’ve already seen it.”

  “Does this mean we… we know for sure who was on the street that morning?”

  “It means that we’re conducting a little sting to find out. Jessup came up with the idea. I take it you don’t like it.”

  “It’s not that. This could really set Mario off.”

  Lee narrowed his gaze, but otherwise didn’t let on that he found anything unusual about Barbara’s comment.

  “Only if he’s not guilty. This is one way to find out, isn’t it? If he’s not, if he wasn’t there that night, then we’re right back where we were before—trying to figure out where he was and who tipped off Willey and who shot at us.” Lee sat down behind his desk and leaned back in his chair, carefully watching Barbara’s response. “Is there a problem, Barbara?”

  She gnawed the inside of her lip. “Look… Mario is a ruthless, crazy son of a bitch. I just wonder what he might do if he reads this and thinks we’re trying to set him up.”

  Lee’s mouth twisted grimly “We are trying to set him up. Like I said, if he’s innocent he’s got nothing to worry about.”

  “Except if Willey gets the wrong idea.”

  Lee pursed his lips and sat forward, leaning his arms on the desk. “Why do you care if Willey gets the wrong idea? We want to bring one or both of them to trial.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “Barb,” Lee began in a voice meant to soothe her. “For some reason you’ve been acting like the entire responsibility for bringing in Earl Willey and Mario rests on your shoulders. You know better than that. And we all make mistakes, get the wrong information. You’re not in this alone. Do you understand?”

  Barbara looked squarely at Lee, as if trying to judge not only his sincerity but the degree of his insight. “Yeah. Sure,” she said.

  “This isn’t going to go on forever. Something will break and we’ll make our move.”

  Barbara leaned forward. “Look, can’t we just…”

  There was a tap on Lee’s open door. “Sorry. Detective Peña, there’s someone here to see you. Said he has an appointment.”

  Barbara frowned and began to shake her head. “I don’t remember…”

  She stopped abruptly and looked sharply at Lee. The communication between them was swift and silent. She faced the officer.

  “Fine. Have someone bring him to the interrogation room on the second floor. I’ll be right there.”

  Lee watched Barbara as she stood lost in thought. “You okay, Detective?”

  Being called by her title seemed to pull her out of her reflections and she nodded. “Yeah, I’m cool, Lee. Thanks.”

  “Anything else you want to say to me?”

  She hesitated, then shook her head. “Not right now. Maybe… maybe later. I think that’s Mario downstairs.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Lee said. “This may be the break we were looking for.” He stood up. “Barb?” She glanced at him. “Don’t get distracted. Stay focused on your job and on what you’re doing. You’ve been under the gun before.”

  “I know,” she murmured before walking out of the office.

  “We could keep you right now,” Barbara said. “We have enough to make a case.”

  Mario shrugged, not taking the threat seriously. He was prepared to sit for several hours while the cops hammered at him with questions. He’d done this before. He knew the routine. “You could have done that last month, or even after that night.”

  He stared at Barbara, who sat to his right at the end of the table. He gave her a thorough going-over, well aware of her impatience. She was expecting him to expose her. But he wasn’t going to. Not right now.

  “How come you waited for me to come in?” he asked.

  Barbara didn’t answer and Lee remained silent. He was standing near the door, listening. This was her show. But so far he hadn’t heard her ask the questions he thought she should, such as how Earl Willey knew about the stakeout. Maybe she had a goal in mind, Lee considered, but she was taking too long to get to it. He was also aware that she was sitting off to the side as she questioned Mario, rather than directly in front of him where she could maintain direct eye contact. It was not a good tactic.

  “We’d like to hear your side of the story. You got one?” she said.

  Mario shrugged again. “I got nothing to say. I came in ’cause I heard you was looking for me. But you got nothing on me.” He turned to Lee. “No matter what the fuckin’ papers say, you can’t blame me for popping that woman. You can’t put me there that night, and neither can she.”

  “What if we can?” Lee asked smoothly, keeping his expression blank and his tone indifferent.

  “You’re fucking with me,” Mario said tightly.

  Lee crossed his arms over his chest. “Right now the papers only mention a suspect in the shooting who is believed to be part of a well-known local drug cartel. If your name gets attached to the story, y
ou’re going to have to do some fancy footwork to stay tight with Willey. You think he’s going to wonder if it’s a lie… or will he just decide you’re too much of a liability and not worth the risk?”

  “If you’d stuck to the script like we planned, you wouldn’t be sitting here now trying to figure out what your options are,” Barbara told him.

  “So what do you have?” Lee asked.

  Mario pursed his lips, waved a hand. “Willey thinks I’m cool. I’m still in the game. He’s gonna move his base of operation to get away from you guys. Nobody knows where. That’s the truth, man. And they all say none of them had anything to do with that woman getting hit.”

  “Which leaves you a suspect,” Lee suggested. “What did you tell him?”

  Mario clasped his hands and hunched his shoulders. “I don’t know nothin’ about it.”

  “You’re lying,” Barbara accused.

  Mario swung his gaze to her. There was a silent duel between them before he responded in a burst of anger. “Goñyo, man… I told you I didn’t shoot the bitch.”

  “But you were there,” Lee said. “We can prove it.”

  Mario slumped in his chair. “Hey… I ain’t worried,” he maintained. “You can’t prove shit.”

  Barbara leaned across her end of the table, getting in Mario’s face. Lee, surprised by her sudden move, stiffened alertly, waiting to see what she was up to. She was angry, he could see that. Wound tight and about to lose control.

  “Don’t you get it?” she ground out impatiently. “We don’t want you. Earl Willey doesn’t need you. You’re in no-man’s-land, Mario. We’re doing you a favor,” she said, jabbing her finger at him.

  “Bullshit, man. You settin’ me up. I ain’t taking no fall.”

  “Like you tried to do to us. Give it up. You got no place to go.”

  “I got another card to play.” He stared hard at Barbara before getting up abruptly. “Unless you’re keeping me, I’m leaving. I got business to take care of.”