Bleeding Blue

by Don Weston

  After fruitless attempts to remember how I got into her bed, my thoughts turned to the door between the offices of Commissioner Tuttle and City Auditor Bob Blaney. Why did they keep it a secret? Did The Jet use it to sneak down the back hallway the day Chris and his friend saw him go in and not come out? I was wondering where in the heck Chris had gotten to, when I turned the last corner and saw him sitting on the wooden steps at my front porch.

  Then I saw what was left of my garage. It had burnt nearly to the ground. What was left of it was charred black. My sweet two-door sports car was a pile of molten plastic and metal. The smell of smoke lingered in the air, sending me into an immediate flashback of the prior day’s events.

  “Hi Billie.” Chris’s call brought me back to the present. He didn’t make a move to get up as I approached. His head drooped a bit and he seemed to struggle just to meet my gaze.

  “What happened to your garage?”

  I sat next to him on the stoop. “Spontaneous combustion.” I didn’t want to scare him off again. “Must have been all those oil rags and gasoline cans I kept in there.”

  “That’s too bad. It was a nice garage.”

  “Yeah. It had a nice car in it too. By the way, where’s your new ride?”

  “Ah, I decided against it. Too expensive.” He motioned toward an old red Chevy pickup, rusting at the wheel wells and freckled with dents. “That’s going to be my car for a while. Since I’m not going to take your money, I figured I’d better watch mine. The money I got from the city won’t last long.”

  I nodded. I should have been happy he planned to follow through on his promise not to take my money, but I had too much on my mind. “Where have you been?”

  “Here and there,” he said. “Staying with friends. Trying to stay under the radar. Someone tried to kill me again yesterday.”

  “Oh? Tell me about it.”

  “I was down at the City Hall. My lawyer met me there and the lawyers had me sign some papers. When we were done I walked across the street and got a hot dog at one of those vending carts. Got me some sauerkraut on it with all the fixings.”

  “So far no one’s tried to kill you,” I said.

  “I’m getting to it,” Chris said. “I was sitting on a bench, eating my dog and I see one of those commissioners. What was his name, Turtle? No Tuttle, that’s it. Anyway, I seen him talking to your assistant’s new boyfriend. I wondered what the two of them could have in common.”

  I remembered that McGraw said Chris was at my house at noon yesterday, implying he might be responsible for the bomb. I wondered which of them was lying.

  “Could you hear what they were talking about?”

  “A little. The Commissioner dude . . .”

  “Tuttle.”

  “Yeah, Tuttle. He’s telling the guy in the T-shirt with the naked lady on his arm . . .”

  “Earl.”

  “Okay. Well Turtle was telling the naked lady guy that he didn’t hire him to speculate about things. He had a job to do and as far as he could tell, this guy hadn’t done shit.”

  “What did Earl say?”

  “Something about these things take time. Then something about if he moves too fast he’ll make people suspicious. I couldn’t hear everything. Besides they caught me listening. They totally turned and stared at me at the same time. I knew I was busted so I thought I’d better move on. None of my business what they were arguing about anyway.”

  “So, who tried to kill you?” I asked.

  “The naked lady guy, uh Earl. I was about six blocks away and he followed me and tried to run over me in a tow truck. A big one. I stepped off the curb and had to jump back. His back wheel ran over the curb.”

  “Is it possible that he was just turning, and you weren’t watching where you were going?”

  “No way. If I hadn’t heard the truck’s muffler stack roaring, he’d a flattened me.”

  I thought about the likelihood of Earl trying to run Chris down because he might have heard something in their conversation. I also considered the possibility that Chris might know something more than he was telling about Darrin’s murder and The Jet. And although Earl may have spotted him downtown, I didn’t believe he would try to kill him.

  But what did I know about Earl? Not much. Angel liked him and she was usually a good judge of character. I knew that he was a P.I. who preferred to be thought of as a tow truck driver. I remembered Eileen said he had worked for Tuttle before. What was Tuttle involved in this time? From the conversation Chris overheard, it could be anything. Tuttle was anxious something be brought to a conclusion and Earl didn’t want to break his cover. As a tow truck driver, a P.I., or an assassin? I wondered.

  “Well, what about it?” Chris had been talking to me.

  “Huh? What about what?”

  “Hiding me out at your house for a couple of days. Someone wants me dead I tell you. I need a safe place.”

  “Why not?” I got up from the step. “Now that my brothers are gone I’m sure I’ve got a room you can use.”

  He stood up and followed me to the front door. I fumbled for my keys and unlocked it. Nine o’clock and Angel wasn’t at work yet. We hadn’t been busy lately anyway. When people around you start getting killed, word travels quickly through the grapevine.

  Chris barely stepped through the doorway ahead of me when two marked squad cars squealed around the corner and pulled up abruptly on the curb in front of my house.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Chris cried. “Oh no. Are they after me? I haven’t done nothing.”

  I was still in the doorway as Sgt. McGraw jumped out of the first squad car.

  “Shut up and get up the stairs,” I huffed in a whisper. “Bedroom to the right. They haven’t seen you. Lock the door.”

  I heard him scuffling up the stairs, probably three at a time, as I smiled at the rapidly approaching McGraw and two jogging officers.

  “Where the hell have you been?” McGraw growled. “Don’t you ever answer your phone?”

  I knew they weren’t coming for Chris. I figured I was about to be arrested for breaking into City Hall the night before. Somehow, they had evidence of my visit. Probably they already checked the security camera. I supposed it was too much to hope that Eileen’s security guard friend might have found the video and accidently erased it.

  “I spent the night at a friend’s house. I just got home,” I said.

  McGraw didn’t read me my rights. Instead he seemed concerned.

  “We’ve been trying to get hold of you since early this morning. We found out who killed your brother.”

  “That’s great. Who is it?”

  “We’d better go inside. We haven’t arrested him yet and you might be in danger until we do.”

  “But . . .”

  “Inside! Now!” McGraw pushed me back off the porch and through the front door. The other two cops brushed by us and started searching the house.”

  “What are you doing?” I asked as the three of them drew their guns.

  “No one down here,” one of the cops said. “Let’s check upstairs.”

  “Wait,” I said. “There’s no one here. I just unlocked the front door.”

  “Have to be careful,” McGraw said.

  I sweated it out as the two cops frisked the upstairs. Finally, one of them yelled from the top of the stairway.

  “There’s one room locked.”

  I glanced up to see both of them pointing their guns at the door and figured Chris was probably peeing his pants on the other side.

  “That’s a storeroom full of junk,” I said. “I lost the key a couple years ago.”

  “We’ll have to break it down,” McGraw said.

  “Like hell you will,” I said. “I’m not going to have you busting up my house. I can’t afford it. I’m out of work, my garage blew up, my car’s gone and I’m not sure my insurance will cover any of it because it’s related to one of my cases. Unless you have a warrant, you’d better leave that door alone.”

&n
bsp; McGraw, gun drawn, looked disappointed. “Well, I guess that’s that.”

  “Good. Now you can tell me who killed my brother.”

  “You’d better sit down,” he said, pointing to the settee in the waiting area.

  “I don’t need to sit. Just tell me the name of the asshole who killed my brother, and I’ll go and get him myself.”

  “It’s Steve.” McGraw offered a wry smile.

  “Steve who?” My mind was numb and it didn’t get through.

  “Steve, your ex-partner.”

  He caught me as I slumped and guided me onto the settee. A loud ringing in my ears made it hard for me to hear his words.

  “Steve? You’re crazy,” I heard myself saying.

  But even as the words left my lips I knew it wasn’t really that crazy. In fact, it made a lot of sense. Richards told me he thought I was a bitch. Of course, he admitted it when I confronted him, but said it was in the past. Why then, did he remain so distant throughout the investigation?

  “It may sound crazy,” McGraw said. “But we got a tip the gun used to kill your brother was in the trunk of his car. We checked it a couple hours ago and found a sniper’s rifle hidden where the spare tire would be under the trunk carpet. Ballistics already matched the rifle with a bullet taken from Officer Bly’s body. They’re pretty sure it’s going to match the bullet taken from the little guy’s body at the park too.”

  “There’s got to be some mistake,” I said.

  “Steve was in the general area of Cathedral Park when The Jet was killed. We think Steve silenced him so he wouldn’t finger him as the one who hired him.”

  “But he couldn’t have killed Darrin. He was with me at the hospital . . .” The words barely exited my mouth when I realized my error.

  “He left you to get his car in the parking structure where the shots originated. We had men inside the structure and they would have seen anyone out of the ordinary. But it would be a simple thing for him to pull a rifle from his trunk to finish what The Jet started. Only he missed and killed your brother. But he didn’t panic. All he had to do was put the rifle back in his trunk and speed down to the crime scene. No one would suspect a fellow cop.”

  My head reeled and my gut felt like it had been slammed with a sledge hammer. I didn’t want to believe any of this, but it rang true. Steve put himself in a perfect position to do everything McGraw claimed and more. Could he have done it?

  I hung my head, remembering the day at the funeral home when I surprised him and Dan. Steve was upset with me at first. He went outside to cool off, and I saw him talking on his cell phone. On the way home, The Jet and his buddies tried to gun me down. I had wondered how they found me. The Jet had to be tipped off and the only two people who knew I was at the mortuary were Steve and Dan. And Steve made those damn phone calls outside while Dan and I did the paperwork inside.

  I gazed into McGraw’s knowing eyes and he nodded.

  “I know it’s hard to believe,” he said. “It’s getting to where you can’t trust anybody.”

  My face flushed and I felt the rage building inside. The Jet said the same thing just before he died.

  “Where is he?” I said.

  “Don’t know. We showed up with a search warrant at his house at five a.m. this morning. His car was there, but he wasn’t. Someone must have tipped him.”

  “He left his car behind with the murder weapon in it?” I said. “That’s pretty dumb.”

  McGraw shrugged. “Maybe he got a ride with someone else before we showed up, or we spooked him and he snuck out before we hit the door.”

  “So, you have no idea where he is?”

  “Not yet. We’ll find him.”

  “You thought he might be here?”

  “Not really,” McGraw said. “He knows this is the first place we’d check. Listen, I’m going to leave the two officers here to watch over you. They won’t be here long. I expect we’ll have him in custody in the next eight hours. Still, we want you to be safe.”

  “Do you? Or do you want to keep me from going after him?”

  “Give us a whack at him first. You don’t want to go to jail for a cop killer. Let us handle it legal-like. Okay?”

  I nodded. “I’ll give you eight hours. No promises after that. And the brothers can stay outside and watch the front and back doors.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, and motioned the boys in blue outside. “But if you hear from him, call me right away.” He gave me his cop card and I nodded.

  After they left I walked gingerly up the stairs. My body ached from the fall the night before and my head throbbed. At the top of the landing, I paused and peeked over my shoulder to the front door to make sure no one was watching through the lead-glass window. I groaned and walked to the locked bedroom door and rapped lightly with my knuckles.

  “Chris? It’s me. It’s okay, they’re gone. You can come out.”

  I waited for a minute, wondering if he had slipped out the bedroom window. Then I heard a faint rustling behind the door. A weak voice said, “Billie?”

  “Yes. Open up.” The latch clicked, the door creaked open and Chris’s white face peered out.”

  “Hey it’s okay. I wouldn’t have let them get you. Besides they weren’t after you anyway.”

  “They want your ex-partner,” he said. His voice trembled and his lower lip quivered.

  “How did you know? Could you hear us from up here?”

  “No,” he said, opening the door. “I found him.”

  Standing behind Chris with a gun jammed in the small of his back, stood the man whom McGraw said murdered my brother.

  “Hi Billie,” Steve said with a crooked smile. “Sorry to show up unannounced. I needed a place to lie low for a while.”

  And me without my gun.

  Chapter 24

  “What the hell’s going on?” I said.

  We were downstairs and Steve had lowered his gun now that the cops were outside. He stood at an angle to the window where he could watch the patrolmen.

  “I dunno,” he said. “I couldn’t sleep much last night and then I heard a noise outside my house this morning. I went to the window and squad cars were lining up down the street. I turned on my scanner and the dumb asses were organizing my takedown on the radio. They must have thought I was asleep. Anyway, I heard them saying I was wanted in your brother’s murder. After I threw up, I got the hell out of there.”

  “McGraw told me they found a sniper rifle in the trunk of your car,” I said.

  “Impossible. It’s a frame up.”

  “All the cons in stir say they’re innocent too,” Chris said, apparently feeling braver since Steve holstered his gun.

  I gave Chris a dirty look. “McGraw presented a pretty solid case.”

  I told Steve about the anonymous call, about the gun hidden in his car, his proximity to each shooting, and the police theory he was trying to silence The Jet before he could talk. Steve just sat and listened, occasionally nodding his head, as I presented the prosecution’s case.

  “It’s not true. Not one word of it,” he said. “I wouldn’t harm a hair on your head, Billie. I couldn’t because I . . .”

  “Are you all right?” I saw a single tear in the corner of his eye.

  “Yeah. I couldn’t hurt you.” He wiped the emotion off with the back of his hand. “Hell, I’ve been in love with you almost since the first day we partnered.”

  “What?”

  “He’s dishing you a load of crap,” Chris said. “Don’t believe him. He’s in a jam and he’s trying to butter you up.”

  Normally Steve would have gone for the jugular on a mouthy perp, but he just sat there like he was in shock.

  “Shut up, Chris,” I said. “How can you say you love me when you’ve gone out of your way to avoid me ever since I left the force? Even since Darrin’s death, you’ve basically abandoned me when I needed you the most.”

  “I haven’t abandoned you. I’ve been working on this case day and night trying to find Darr
in’s killer.”

  “A phone call once in a while would have been nice.”

  “What would I say? We’re like oil and water. Every time we get together one of us blows up. I figured any relationship between us was doomed from the start.”

  “You big moron. The reason I always get so damn upset with you is because you won’t give me the time of day. If you’d ever let me know you cared, I would probably have melted in your arms.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, maybe. I don’t know. We’ve never gotten that far.”

  He stood up and walked over to me and draped his arms loosely around my waist. “I do care for you.”

  “I care for you too,” I said, enjoying his soft brown eyes.

  “Yuck!” Chris said, and turned away.

  Steve bent over me and touched my lips with his. We embraced and kissed softly for what seemed like an eternity. When we broke for air, I smiled and took in the moment before I spotted something shiny on a nearby table. I took his hands in mine, smiled, spun him around, reached the nickel-coated bracelets, and handcuffed his hands behind his back. It happened so fast it even surprised me.

  “Yeah. Way to go, Billie.” Chris turned back toward our brief scuffle. “I thought you were buying his sob story.”

  I took Steve’s gun from his shoulder holster and stepped backwards.

  “What the hell? What are you doing?” he said.

  “Making a citizen’s arrest.”

  “What about all the bullshit about how you loved me.”

  “I said I care for you.” No sense in committing too much this early in a relationship. We just got to first base.”

  “If you turn me in before I can clear my name, I’m dead meat.”

  “You wait until you’re in a real jam and say you need my help, and oh by the way, you’re suddenly in love with me. And I’m supposed to believe you? I’m sorry, I don’t think I can.”

  “But Billie. . .”

  “Besides, it’s safer for you to be in custody. You’re liable to be killed out on the street by some revenge-minded cop.”