by R Weir
“Seems I need to pay him a visit as well. Convince him to look elsewhere for clients.”
“So, you believe you can get him to stop?”
“Without a doubt!” I stated with conviction.
Though it might require a five-fingered persuasion, which I’d get a kick out of.
Chapter 20
Time was short, so I rushed home and changed quickly, and went to pick up April for dinner. I wore slacks and a nice cotton shirt with a sport jacket over it, to conceal my gun. Because of the danger she and I still were in, I wasn’t going unarmed until Dezmond confirmed the Platov trio were in custody. When I arrived at her front door, she wowed me with her attire. Black, slightly over-the-knee-length skirt, polished black boots covering her calves, yellow sleeveless blouse, with a little cleavage showing. Her light brown hair flowed freely to her shoulders. I’d rarely seen her outside the office, other than at Boone’s, and today she filled my eyes with her stunning looks. I took a couple of deep breaths to compose myself.
“You look pretty,” I said calmly.
“Thank you. I put in the effort every now and then.”
She put her arm through mine and we walked to my car, where I opened the door and she slid in. The drive to the restaurant was quiet, as the radio played some world-class rock on one of my favorite stations. I wanted to talk of other things, and not of the danger she was in or work-related items. I had a difficult time coming up with something, as my mind was frozen. When we arrived at the restaurant we were seated quickly in a nice corner booth. I sat across from her and our eyes met.
“Well, that was one of the more silent drives I’ve been on in some time,” said April. “You’d think we’d been married for several years.”
“Sorry. My brain locked and couldn’t come up with anything to talk about. I wanted to avoid talking shop because of the current situation.”
“Was that all?”
Oh what the hell. I might as well say it!
“Honestly, I’m a little nervous. After my recent breakup I’m a little leery of myself and dating.”
“So you think this is a date?”
“It had crossed my mind. I doubt you dress up like this for a causal night out.”
April grinned widely.
“So true. This is one of my ‘get the guys eyes to bug-out’ outfits. But we’ve known each other for a while now, so nothing to be worried about. It would be nice to talk in a quiet environment and get to know each other better. No pressure. Only have a good time and see where it leads. My intentions are purely honorable!”
I couldn’t help but laugh, happy she had defused the pressure I was feeling. The waitress arrived and we ordered some red wine and an appetizer of Burrata.
“So normally I’d say, tell me about yourself,” I began. “But it seems we already know each other fairly well. I know you mentioned you had three older brothers. What do they do?”
“We come from a family of cops,” she said. “My dad was a cop for twenty years before retiring. My oldest brother works for the Douglas County Sheriff’s department. The other two work in Aurora. One is a detective, the other a plain-clothes officer working Vice. It’s something the four of us always wanted to do.”
“How does your mom feel about you being a cop?”
“She knew it was going to happen. I was pretty much a tomboy from day one, running with, into and through my brothers. I’m sure it concerned her, but she’s always been proud of me. Though she worries if I’ll ever find a man who can put up with my job.”
“It can be a hard life for any spouse, male or female.”
The wine arrived, and they had me taste it. It met with my approval, so two glasses were poured.
“Yes it is,” said April, after a taste of wine. “But she doesn’t understand I like being single and free to choose. I rarely feel lonely. I’m too busy.”
“You mentioned once growing up you eventually were able to kick your brothers’ asses. Is that still true?”
“Absolutely. Though they’d never admit it. They still look out for me and worry too. But they know I’m not without skills.”
“I’ve seen them, both during the class and in action on the streets. Hopefully I stay on your good side.”
“I heard of your fighting skill as well. I’d rather not tangle with you either. Well, at least in a negative way.”
She said it without blushing, which was normal. She was often forward with me, in a friendly way. This shouldn’t be any different than any other time we had talked. Or so I kept telling myself. But somehow it did feel different.
The Burrata arrived and we dug in, enjoying the ball-shaped mozzarella with buttery cream inside. It was quite tasty and filling. For the main meal April ordered Eggplant Parmigiana, while I decided on baked Penne Bolognese.
“So do you think the latest situation will get you more time on the streets?” I asked.
“I don’t think it will hurt. I was already getting out more and more, usually pairing up with a more experienced officer. My day is coming. As Bill says, as long as I’m patient it will happen.”
“I’m looking forward to testifying on our behalf. I’ll try my best not to come across as smitten with you, and blab on like an idiot.”
“Well, if you decide to, let me know so I can get a video copy to post on the Internet!”
I had a mouthful of food and nearly spit it out laughing. We talked on a little longer about her life, where I learned a few more things about her. She was a good shot on the firing range, played basketball and softball in high school and college, and wanted a motorcycle but couldn’t quite afford it yet.
“I’d love to have a bike like you have,” she said. “Your jaw must have hit your chest when they unloaded it. Your sister-in-law must really care about you.”
“She was a good person, and I’m so happy to have been able to free her from the burden my brother had put her under. The circumstance wasn’t ideal, but I’m glad she can get on with her life.”
“Your brother sounded like an ass, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
I couldn’t argue the point. Though I was sad he was gone, I had no guilt for what the final outcome was. I had gone the extra mile to try and save him.
“He was Flynn. Not much I could do to change him.”
“And what about you? Will you be able to get on with your life?”
“I have no issues with how it all came down with Flynn.”
“No, I mean with Melissa.”
I wasn’t sure if I could answer that question. I was still struggling.
“I screwed up. It will be a while before I can forgive myself.”
April reached her hand out and placed it on mine. I almost pulled away in surprise, a twitch of reflex filling me, but held still.
“Believe or not, our failings can make us stronger. The first part is forgiving ourselves.”
I had wanted to, but couldn’t. Maybe in time. Deep down, I wondered if I ever could.
“Maybe if I knew if she could forgive me, then I might be able to forgive myself. I don’t like hurting the ones I care about.”
“Just don’t hurt yourself too. And understand others care about you, including me.”
She cupped my hand tightly and then let it go, when the main meal arrived. We ate while talking about happier things, with me giving her a rundown on my life. It was a good time and I did feel better. When the meal was done, the check paid, we went out to the car where I opened the door for her. She turned into me, giving me a long embrace and a kiss on the lips. My reaction wasn’t of surprise, but of not wanting to kiss back. She pulled away, with a look of not hurt, but of shock.
“And I imagined you as a good kisser,” she said with a mock pout.
“I’m sorry. You caught me off guard.” I paused, looking for the right words. “I didn’t want to lead you on. I’m not certain I’m ready.”
“No worries. I had a nice time tonight. I wanted to make sure you understood.”
�
�As did I. I’m not certain I want to go beyond what we already have between us. I enjoy your friendship, and who knows, in time maybe it can be more.”
Once in the car we drove back to her place. When we arrived she grabbed my hand.
“Can you walk me to my door?” she asked.
“Of course. I want to make sure you get inside safely.”
“You can come in for something to drink. No pressure, of course. I enjoy talking to you. It is a nice form of verbal foreplay.”
Again I laughed, which felt good. I was considering her offer, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to make sure no one had broken in and would attack her after I’d left. I had convinced myself this would be the only reason to go inside, but deep down I knew more could happen. As we strolled to her apartment door, her arm in mine, her head on my shoulder, out stepped one of the Platov men from behind a pillar. It was still light enough that I could see it was the one April had disabled. He raised his arm, gun in hand, pointing. My mind raced on what defense I should mount, knowing it likely wouldn’t be enough.
Chapter 21
I tried to push April away and shield her. The first shot boomed, filling my ears and I felt her body grow heavy and pull away from me. By the second shot she was down and I lunged at him, grabbing his gun hand, pushing it downward, as a third shot went into the sidewalk.
I gripped him as tightly as I could, trying to pull the weapon from his hand. But he was incredibly strong, and we were in a standoff, neither of us being able to get an advantage over the other. I removed one hand from his arm and tried to punch at his face, but could only get a glancing blow, which did no damage. He pulled free with his gun hand and shoved me backwards; I tripped, falling back into a bush. He raised his gun hand and aimed at me. I tried to reach for my gun, but there was no time. I heard four shots in rapid succession and figured I was dead. But instead he fell backwards, clutching at his chest, blood seeping through his fingers, before hitting the ground. Looking over, I saw the wounded April had pulled out the .38 I’d loaned her, both hands steady as she expertly placed each shot in the kill zone, putting Jasha down for the count.
I went over to make sure he was dead and pushed his dropped weapon away, in case he came back to life. April had slumped backwards and onto her side, the blood seeping from her stomach. Pulling off my coat I rolled it up to put pressure front and back. She was bleeding a lot and starting to lose consciousness.
“Hang in there, April!” I said forcefully. “Don’t you dare die on me!”
I pulled out my cell phone and made a frantic call to 911.
“A Denver officer has been shot! Please get an ambulance here as fast as you can.” I gave them the address and her badge number.
“Damn, Jarvis, it hurts,” she said. “I don’t think I’m going to make it.”
“You’ll be fine. We have that second date to go on. And you can’t skip out on me.”
She had a weak smile, but her eyes were closing. She had lost a lot of blood and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I kept talking with her until the paramedics arrived. They worked on her but knew they couldn’t help her enough and got her in the ambulance. They didn’t want to let me go, but a couple of officers who arrived on the scene knew me and told them to allow it. On the drive over I still was talking to her. When we arrived at Swedish Medical Center, the triage team met us outside and took her away, leaving me with another doctor, who wanted to make sure I was alright.
“Are you hurt sir?” he said, a little leery of the gun I was carrying.
“The blood is not mine. It’s April’s.”
“We’ll need to make sure. You may be in shock so I’d like to examine you. But first we need to get your gun.”
There was a security officer there, though I didn’t remember seeing him. I handed him the gun and was walked over to a room where I could be checked over. Once the doctor confirmed I wasn’t injured, they allowed me to clean the blood as much as I could. I mostly was able to get it off of my hands, but my shirt and pants were a lost cause.
Several Denver officers arrived and took my statement. Time moved slowly, and others arrived, including April’s parents and two of her brothers. Bill showed up as well and tried to talk with me, but I was out of it. A couple hours passed and soon after the surgeon who worked on April came to talk with us. I heard the words but was instantly angry, the shock wearing off. I turned to Bill for his help.
“I need my gun back,” I said to him. “I need to settle this. And you need to drive me back so I can get my car.”
“Don’t do anything stupid. It won’t change a thing.”
I didn’t care, giving him the sternest look I could muster. He got me the gun back and drove me to my car.
“What do you plan to do?”
“Make sure the other two don’t harm anyone else.”
“How do you plan to do that?”
“With the help of the FBI.”
“Good luck.” Bill didn’t sound convinced.
Once in my car I called Dezmond on the phone.
“What do you want?”
“The other two Platov brothers. One just killed my friend.”
There was silence.
“We have two in custody. The other so far has eluded us.”
“He is dead. Killed by Officer April Rainn.”
“Is she the one who died?”
“Yes.”
“So you want revenge?”
“No, I want to question them. I need answers.”
“Why would I let you do this?”
“Because there is no reason not to let me. You are putting them far away, from what you told me. So let me talk with them. But they need to think I’m going to kill them if they don’t talk. There is something larger involved here. Something big the government would like to know about. Possibly a career maker for you.”
Dezmond was silent for a while thinking it over. I was already driving towards the FBI office. If he didn’t let me in, storming the building was on my mind. Crazy PI shot dead in feeble attempt to enter FBI facility. I was hoping, wishing, it wouldn’t come to that.
“Tell me what you want to do.”
I explained on the drive over my emotionally charged plan. When I arrived he met me at security, and signed me in to allow my weapon. We went to a lower level, where the two brothers were being held. He led me to the secure holding place, signing me in again.
“Who do you want to talk to first?” Dezmond asked.
“Aleksi. He seems the best bet to know the most.”
“He is also the toughest.”
“So am I.”
Dezmond smiled. Not sure if he agreed I was tough, but he wasn’t about to stop me. I was let into the room, where Aleksi sat in a bolted-to-the-floor chair, legs and arms cuffed to the frame. He saw my face and smiled. I stepped forward and punched him as hard as I could in the face. His mouth quickly filled with blood, which he spit out on the floor, still smiling.
“I’m guessing you are not here to make small talk,” he said.
“No, I’m here to kill you,” I responded, with as much vigor as I could muster.
He didn’t seem too concerned. “Why?”
“Because your cousin Jasha killed my friend.”
“The woman. I believe her name was April.”
“Yes.”
“I tried to talk him out of it. But he was shamed by her and had to exact revenge. A pity, as she was lovely.”
“Yes, she was. Lovely enough to kill Jasha before she succumbed to her wounds.”
“Resourceful and tough too. She saved your life before and now you plan on exacting your own revenge.”
“Exactly.”
“And how can this happen. I’m in a cage with cameras watching my every move. The FBI will never allow this to happen.”
“Oh, I think you are wrong. They plan on losing you in Gitmo. And it costs American dollars to keep prisoners down there. With the government budget cuts they would be thrilled with not having to fe
ed you to save money.”
He seemed fearless. I knew it would take a great deal to break him.
“Besides, the camera system is not working. Seems like a software or hardware glitch. Funny how that happens when someone is about to die.”
His smile slowly ebbed from his face.
“Her blood is on me,” I said pointing to my stained shirt. “I hope none of yours gets on me when I blow your brains out!”
I pulled out my gun and pressed it against his head, and pulled the hammer back.
“Now, you can either talk to me, or die. Either way I’ll get what I want, because I’ll have your brother brought in and I’ll ask him the same questions over your lifeless, bloody body. He will not doubt my threat once he sees you. Tell me your answer, for my patience is thin, and I have nothing to lose.”
I could feel him looking at me, seeing the blood on my clothes, measuring my threat, looking deep into my eyes. He could see I meant every word. A deep sigh filled the room as he nodded his head.
“I believe you. What do you want to know?”
“Who killed Aaron Bailey?” I asked, the gun now at my side. “And why were you brought in to stop me from investigating?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
“I don’t know all the details. We were simply doing a job as we were tasked to do.”
“Do you know enough to lead me in the correct direction?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“Then begin.”
He started filling me in on various facts he knew. With each statement I would ask follow-up questions. We talked for about thirty minutes before I had all he seemed to know. I walked out of the cell, where Dezmond was waiting.
“Did you get all of that?” I asked.
“Yes, we recorded every word. I’m assuming you want a copy.”
“Or a transcript would be helpful.”
“Did you learn what you hoped for?”
