“Excuse me?”
“You parked behind me, blocking me in.”
Gianna turned and looked toward where she’d parked. She could not see her car. “You blessed with x-ray vision?” she snapped at the suit-and-tie, who now was blocking her entrance into the building. “And you need to move out of my way.”
“When you unblock my car,” he snapped back.
“What makes you think I’m blocking your car, especially since you can’t see it from here?”
“Because I’m in your parking space,” suit-and-tie snarled at her, and she laughed at him, pushed him backward out of her way, and entered the building.
“You need to call security about that,” Gianna said, leaving him standing there fuming. She didn’t look back. He knew who she was, and he thought he could get away with taking her space.
“Bitch!” He said it loud enough for her to hear. He wanted her to hear. Who was this jerk?
She called security when she got to her desk and reported that she had parked behind the car in her reserved space. The guy thanked her for the heads up and she put that incident out of her mind, creating the space she needed to deal with the situation with Mimi—whatever that was. Their first real disagreement was what it was, and it made her feel sick. How on earth did people do this on a regular basis? She called her again . . . immediately to voicemail again. Mimi was refusing to talk to her. This was awful. This was worse than awful. She made herself tune in and focus on the work she had to complete in the next two hours.
Bedlam at the other end of the room marked the return of Teams G and D. Everything they did excited them, and that excited Gianna. Mimi, too, for she had mentioned, more than once, how impressed she was with what she’d seen of Gianna’s new unit. “I really like your Sgt. Tommi, “ she had told Gianna, and “Bobby and Alice seem to have blossomed and matured overnight. “ Yes, they had. “And they worship the ground you walk on, “ Mimi told her. And I’m grateful to have them, Gianna thought, not for the first time, as she watched them tumble into the room like litters of baby kittens or puppies— boundless energy! And it wasn’t just the team members, she realized, as Bobby and Jim bounded toward her, as excited as adolescents. Responsibility frightens some people, and they withdraw. Others, like the two grown men standing before her, grinning—well, some blossom.
“Kenny Chang got the highest score at the shooting range!” Bobby enthused.
“Yeah, then he fell off the treadmill,” Jim said with a smirk. “And he was just walking! All the internet and computer brainiacs, Boss? Combined they couldn’t lift a twenty-pound weight bar.” He gave his midsection a slap. “My wife, by the way, thanks you for insisting on the physical fitness training and a more conscious eating plan for the team.”
“They can all shoot and they ride the exercise bikes real good,” Bobby said, “and yeah, they’re smart, but they’re not cut out for field work, Boss.”
“Well, the good news is that whenever we go operational, we most likely will need the brainiacs doing what they do best—unless we need to shoot somebody!” Gianna appreciated sharing the light moment with Bobby and Jim; she needed it. “But make certain they can do a minimum of thirty minutes on the bike at top speed. And, here’s a thought: See how Annie Andersen feels about teaching a yoga class a couple of times a week. You can’t fall off a yoga mat.”
“Yeah, but you can fall on it!” Bobby said with feeling, and Gianna laughed through her pain, but she sobered in a hurry when she saw the look Sgt. Tommi was wearing as she hurried toward her.
“Thanks, Bobby,” Gianna said, turning her attention to the sergeant. “Tommi?”
The sergeant waved an envelope at her boss. “Some asshole trying to get into your office ordered me to give this to you, and demanded that you come see him immediately.” She got control of herself. “What he said was, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get your ass down there.”
Gianna took the envelope, opened it, read the heading, and picked up the phone. So that’s who the suit-and-tie asshole was. She punched four buttons and almost immediately said, “Captain. Dexter Davis’s union rep is at my office making threatening noises to my staff, which I don’t like. He also parked in my garage space and called me a bitch when I blocked him in, which I like even less.” She listened for a moment, then, “Yes, sir, he’s there now. Sergeant Ashby is in the office, Sergeant Bell is here in the unit with me; she delivered his message. Thank you, sir.” She hung up the phone with a grin for Tommi. “You might want to hurry back to the office so Eric doesn’t have all the fun.”
“Who was that, Boss?” Tommi asked, “And did that jerk really call you a bitch?”
“Captain Randolph and yes, he did,” Gianna answered, and she laughed as Tommi sprinted across the room and out the door. She’d get there in time to see the Chief’s encounter with a drug-dealing dirty cop’s union rep. Gianna wouldn’t mind seeing that herself—but she’d first have to care what happened to DD to make the effort, and she didn’t. She only cared what Mimi was doing.
Mimi wiped her eyes—again. It was practically impossible to drive and cry at the same time, and it seemed equally impossible that she’d stop crying anytime soon. She’d gone to the gym when she rushed out of the house, Gianna’s “GO!” ringing in her ears. She’d run on the treadmill for an hour, then lay in the steam room until she felt dizzy and knew she had to eat, so she’d gone to her favorite Chinese fast food carryout and ordered her favorite sauteed (really fried) tofu and broccoli with spicy red peppers. The dish, a guilty pleasure, always made her feel good when she ate it. Not today. So she had driven to police headquarters just in time to witness the two SUVs that served as the temporary transportation for Gianna’s Teams G and D drive into the underground garage. Whatever Gianna had been doing, she now would be engaged. No matter how much Mimi might wish it, there was no way Gianna was leaving work in time to make the drive up the mountain before darkness fell. She might as well dry her eyes and hit the road. As long as she’d been visiting Freddie at the cabin, driving up there on that winding mountain road in the dark still spooked her.
Gianna was surprised to find half a dozen other people in the Chief’s office for the late afternoon meeting. She knew two of them well and considered them friends: Inspector Eddie Davis, who had been her boss until the Chief moved Hate Crimes into his office under his control, and Capt. Mildred House, just recently moved from HQ to oversee the overhaul of Riverside Station, formerly home to Dexter Davis. Capt. Dick Randolph, the Chief’s aide de camp, hurried over to her before she could sit down. “Thanks for alerting us to that union guy’s attempted end run. He had no business trying to talk to you about Davis,” he whispered.
“I’m assuming he knew that?” Gianna whispered back.
“Damn right he did!”
“Then what was the point?” Gianna asked, genuinely confused.
“He just wanted to rattle your cage, find out exactly what happened at Sunset View, find out how the Chief got on to Davis, find out how Gilliam got put in there.”
“Then he ended up talking to the right person,” Gianna said calmly as the Chief entered.
He wasn’t a small-talk kind of guy and he got right to the point: They were there because each of them was being promoted. Right now. The public ceremony for family, friends and cops would come later, but right now—Eddie Davis and Ellen DeLongpre from inspector to commander. Mildred House and Richard Randolph from captain to inspector. Giovanna Maglione and Thomas Mintz from lieutenant to captain. The promotions, he said, were part of an ongoing reorganization of the department designed to increase productivity and eliminate waste and corruption. “Some of you already have assumed responsibility for installations where corruption was a problem.” He looked at Millie House. “I can already hear the hum of a well-oiled machine in the Riverside precinct,” he said, and applause rippled around the room. “What some of you may not know is that the takedown of that sex trafficking warehouse on Broad, the arrest of those hate-mong
ers who blew up the gay and lesbian center, which prevented a true disaster, and the exposure of the dirty cops in the Riverside precinct—all that is down to Capt. Maglione and a newly formed unit under her command.” He let the cheer go on for a little while, to Gianna’s discomfort. “And I know you all know how much I don’t want to relinquish Randolph—” and the good natured chuckle that followed that was directed at both of them. “But if you think he did a good job of keeping me in line, wait until you see what he’s going to do for Internal Affairs. And if you thought Randolph could be a pain in the ass, wait until you have to figure out how to get in Tommy Mintz’s good graces.”
As he mentioned each new promotion, he gave the designee his or her new stars, bars and insignia, and nobody failed to notice that the new assignments for new Commanders Eddie Davis and Ellen DeLongpre were not publicly announced. They’d have to wait and see, but whatever their new jobs would be, everybody in the room no doubt would answer to one of them directly or indirectly.
Gianna exchanged congratulatory hugs with Eddie Davis and Millie House and promised to spend time with each of them, and handshakes with all the others, even as she accepted their congratulations on her recent accomplishments—including “getting her ass almost blown to bits.”
“How long does your good friend hold a grudge?” the Chief said in her ear.
She turned to face him, surprise all over her face. “Sir?”
“I’ve put in three calls to Patterson in the last couple of hours and she hasn’t called back. I know she was pissed off at me Friday night. She called me an asshole. Did you know that?”
Hoo boy! “No, sir, I didn’t,” Gianna said, remembering vividly, however, what Mimi had called him several hours ago.
“Is she mad at me? Is that why she won’t return my call?”
“Ah, she’s out of town, sir . . .”
“Without you? Where would she go without you—uh oh. Oh, no! Maglione, I am so sorry!” She saw him remember that, according to the vacation request form she had submitted and he had approved, she should be wherever Mimi Patterson was at that moment. “I forgot! I am so very sorry. Where is she? Where are you supposed to be?”
“In the mountains, up near Deep Creek Lake—”
He bellowed for Randolph and hurried into his office, giving her a head beckon over his shoulder. She followed in time to hear him tell Randolph to get somebody named Al Garibaldi on the phone. “Baldy! I need a favor! If I chopper one of my captains up there, can you have somebody meet her and take her to Fred Schuyler’s place?” He listened for a moment, then, “She’ll be there within the hour. Thanks, Baldy. I owe you.” He listened again, then said, “I’ve got a new adjutant starting Monday, name of Tom Mintz. Same phone number. Call and set it up and we’ll do it. Thanks again.”
“Chief—”
“Just go get on the chopper, Maglione. A Maryland Statie’ll take you to the cabin. I’m sorry I forgot. So much has been going on—and so much of it involving you. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for all you’ve done, but I’ll be sure to do that when you get back. And tell Patterson I’m sorry she thinks I’m an asshole. I’ll make it up to her. And don’t come back to work until Tuesday. We can survive a day without you, can’t we, Randolph?” To his credit, Randolph remained silent.
Mimi was more out of sorts than she recalled being in a very long time, including her recent foray into drunkenness, and that realization depressed her as much as it angered her. In fact, the more she allowed herself to fully feel what was happening inside her, the more depressed and angry she became. What the hell had happened?! Here she’d been looking forward to spending a quiet, private four days alone with Gianna at Freddie’s mountain cabin, and now here she was at Freddie’s mountain cabin, angry, depressed—and alone. Well, it certainly would be quiet and private. Freddie and Cedric were in Europe on a real vacation, and the summertime hikers and bikers and boaters and swimmers who thronged to western Maryland hadn’t yet arrived, but give ’em a week or two and the drive up here would have taken twice as long, even in the middle of the week. Up here in the Allegheny Mountains the leaves were returning to trees that had been stripped naked by winter, the green so bright only nature could produce the color, and Deep Creek Lake shimmered dark aquamarine, deceptively and dangerously placid. This was Mimi’s vista from every window in the A-frame hillside chalet.
Inside, a fire blazed on the hearth. Better than turning on the heat in the chilly cabin, Keith Jarrett simmered on the CD player, and Mimi seethed as she paced up and down. A lousy four days. It was not too much to ask, especially considering that two of the days were Saturday and Sunday, and Gianna had enough accumulated vacation that she could take off until next year this time. Could take off but never would. She had returned more vacation time to the city than many people earned in a year. Mimi, on the other hand, used every second of her earned vacation every year. She worked as hard as Gianna did, often going two or three months without taking a day off when working on a major story. She understood dedication and commitment to work as well as Gianna. She just refused to allow the job to own her. Although now, that no longer was an issue for her since she no longer had a job. The morning’s argument replayed itself in her head as it had been doing all day. “The job doesn’t own me, Mimi,” Gianna had said, sounding both weary and angry. Mimi could tell she was tired of their argument and she was getting annoyed. Mimi, already angry, had shot back, “Bullshit, Gianna! We’ve had these plans for almost a month but your boss, selfish bastard that he is, snaps his fingers and nothing else matters to you.”
“What’s bullshit, Mimi, is what just came out of your mouth,” Gianna had said as she walked out the door, which she closed gently and quietly behind her instead of slamming it, as Mimi knew she would have done. And here she was. And there Gianna was . . . at work.
Mimi had made the three and a half hour drive alone, not enjoying the scenery or the workout her new Audi convertible was getting on the mountain roads. She switched off the CD and switched on the TV. Something stupid and mindless to watch instead of listening to Keith Jarrett’s moody, provocative chords that made her think and feel too much, too deeply. And watching TV at Freddie’s always was fun because it was like being at a movie theater: The screen occupied an entire wall, and the rooftop satellite dish would pick up a signal from Mars. But for now: What was on television on a Wednesday afternoon? Freddie had every available channel in the universe, and Mimi flicked through them until she saw Morgan Freeman and Denzel Washington on the screen. “Glory.” She’d seen the film half a dozen times and never tired of it.
She awakened to darkness and momentary disorientation. Then it all came back to her, where she was and why. She shivered, sat up, yawned, and almost choked to death. She jumped to her feet, not believing in ghosts but not believing her eyes, either. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”
Gianna hesitated briefly before answering, clearly weighing her words. “Would you rather I went back to Washington?”
“Don’t be a jerk,” Mimi snapped.
“Then don’t ask me a question like that,” Gianna snapped right back. “You know very well what I’m doing here.”
Mimi turned from her, crossed the room to close the draperies and turn on a light, and then to add more logs to the fire, which had burned down to embers. Then she turned back to Gianna. “What changed your mind?”
“You could have told me you were coming up here,” Gianna said, her calm, reasoned tone of voice belying the anger she felt.
As usual, Mimi let hers hang out. “I shouldn’t have had to tell you anything, Gianna. We planned for almost a month to come up here today. Then you change your mind and I’m supposed to, what? Sit home and sulk?”
“So instead you come up here and sulk,” Gianna said, picking up the half empty wine bottle. “And get drunk.”
“I am not drunk!” she shouted, remembering all too well what drunk felt like.
Giana gave a slight smile, then quickly
stood and strode over to Mimi, reaching her in a couple of steps. Mimi turned away to face the fire. Gianna spun her back around, grabbed her arms, and pulled her in close. She started twice to say something, and twice stopped herself. Instead, she kissed Mimi, hard and fierce and demanding. Her hands dug into Mimi’s arms, her tongue probed Mimi’s mouth. Shock froze Mimi momentarily, then passion ignited her. She returned the kiss with equal ferocity. She plunged her hands into Gianna’s hair, seeking leverage and control of the kiss. Gianna wouldn’t give it. Her hands moved from Mimi’s arms to her breasts and, a nipple in each hand, she began to squeeze and massage, at first gently and then not, and the sound Mimi made deep in her throat startled them both. They took their mouths from each other but kept their faces close, their eyes locked. They had never been really angry with each other before and therefore didn’t have a protocol for being really and truly pissed off. So they did the next best thing. Since passion fuels anger and they knew a lot about passion, they gave in to it. Together they sank to the floor, eyes still locked together. Gianna took control of Mimi’s arms again as they eased into a reclining position, and she pushed them above her head as simultaneously she pushed Mimi flat on the floor and positioned herself above, knees on either side of Mimi’s body. “You,” she started to say, but couldn’t finish because Mimi raised her head and restarted the kiss.
Gianna stretched out full length on Mimi, pinning her to the floor. Then she slid one leg forward and, knee bent, pried open Mimi’s legs. She released one of Mimi’s arms and a hand followed the knee. She could feel Mimi get hard through the material of her pants and, as she reacted, Mimi took advantage of the situation. She quickly flipped Gianna over, pinning her the same way she’d been immobilized just a moment earlier. “Don’t ever walk out on me again,” Mimi whispered, leaning over Gianna and holding her gaze in a piercing eye-lock.
Death's Echoes Page 23
