by Alexi Venice
Hall of Justice
As soon as Tommy left her office, Amanda called her father.
“Hi Princess. What can I do for you?”
“Thanks for moving my stuff, Daddy. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. We figured there was a chance it might not happen if left in your busy hands.”
“Valid. Are you and mom moving into my Sea Cliff house or selling it?”
“Would you mind if we moved in? It’d be convenient to have a place in the city.”
“That’s a great idea. Keep the furniture in Kristin’s room. Jen has furniture for our new house.”
“Sounds like a plan. We’re going to keep the living room furniture too. We bought you a new set that ties in better with the colors of the new house.”
“Sweet. Thanks.”
“Is that why you called, or is there something else?”
He’s a fucking mind reader. “In fact, I do have something else. The current case we’re working on is getting pretty messy, and—”
“You mean the Montiago drama?” he asked.
“How do you know?”
“Doesn’t take a genius to figure out. Carlos is in the Psych Unit. Kara is on a leave of absence from work. One of her ex-lovers showed up dead—”
“Wait a minute. The news hasn’t reported that Jared Carlisle was her ex-lover.”
“You’re right. I have my sources.”
There was a pause while some shapes and pieces fit together in Amanda’s mind, confirming her suspicions. “How long has Frank Degrugilliers been working for you?”
He chuckled. “Finally figured it out, huh? What tipped you?”
“Besides the fact that you just said you had your ‘sources,’ all the stuff he does for me. He’s knowledgeable about every aspect of life. He seems to know what you’re doing before I do. He’s pretty smooth, both inside and outside SFPD walls. The fact that he puts up with my shit. You must pay him a pretty penny.”
“I don’t want to jeopardize his position at SFPD. Rest assured that he isn’t feeding me any inside info from SFPD.”
She snorted. “You two must’ve gotten a good laugh over my idea to pay him a bonus.”
“He probably did. I just subtracted it from his annual fee.”
“Which is how much?”
“Ten times the bonus.”
“That’s fucking crazy.”
“Access to information is expensive. Remember that. He’s also a terrific fixer. He can play the heavy like nobody’s business. Hang on a sec.”
She listened while he gave some instructions to the movers about where something should go.
“Okay. I’m back,” he said. “Listen, don’t give Frank a hard time just because he works for me. He’s been very useful in ways you aren’t aware and probably don’t want to know about.”
“I get it. As long as we’re not breaking any laws, I’m on board. Come to think of it, I may have a job for him. May I borrow him?”
“Absolutely. Is it work or personal?”
“Work, but outside his current scope.”
“Just authorize him to do it, then it will be in-scope.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Get the Chief of Police to.”
“For reasons I can’t go into, I can’t do that either. It needs to be off-book.”
“Okay,” Jack said. “Let me text Frank first, so he’s in the loop.”
“Do that as soon as we hang up. My assignment is time-sensitive.”
“Gotcha. Is that all?”
“Yep, and thanks for moving me.”
“Anytime,” he said.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Do you and mom want to meet us for dinner at Pacific Café tonight?”
“Let me ask your mother.”
Amanda waited while she heard some talking in the background. “Sure. What time?”
“How about six?”
“See you there.”
Amanda waited a solid ten minutes before texting Frank and asking him to come to her office.
When he arrived, he had a trepidatious look on his face.
She laughed. “Relax. I’m not going to read you the riot act. Instead, I have a little assignment for you.”
“In that case, how can I be of service?” He inclined his head, but his thickly gelled hair didn’t move.
“Have a seat.” She went to the door and peeked her head out. “Mel, hold my calls and make sure we’re not interrupted, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
Amanda closed the door. She returned to her chair and studied Frank, who held his own. “What I’m about to tell you is highly confidential and potentially incriminating for someone in a position of authority at SFPD. I’m also going to ask you to do something without a search warrant. Are you okay with continuing this conversation?”
“If you’re asking whether I can keep my trap shut. No problem. I’m loyal to your father, and now you, so that isn’t a question. Regretfully, over the years, we’ve had issues with guys on the force. The job is dangerous, and it sometimes plays with a guy’s ethics, you know? I don’t have a problem policing our own.”
“Good to know,” she said.
“As for gathering evidence without a warrant? Who cares? I do it all the time.”
She held up her delicate hand and patted the air. “I don’t need to know any examples.”
“Wouldn’t dream of giving you any,” he amended. “What can I do for you?”
“Two things. First, do you have the ability to look up someone’s financial assets? Like a bank account—both domestic and international?”
“If I can’t do it, I know someone who can.”
And to think I wasted this guy’s skills on collecting dog ashes and feeding a cat. “Great. I need to know if Ryan Delmastro has come into a ton of money in the last few months. Look back six months or so.”
“The Chief? What’s it related to?”
“He and Kara Montiago have a daughter together, and Carlos just found out a few months ago.”
“Oh shit!” Frank said.
“Yeah. I need to know if Kara paid Ryan to do something very distasteful.”
She watched the gears grind in Frank’s head. “Fuck. I don’t want to know the answer.”
“Tommy and I are heartbroken.”
“I can only imagine. Let’s hope Ryan didn’t do what we’re both thinking,” he said.
“I’m hoping our search will exonerate him.” She didn’t tell Frank that Ryan was on the video at the Scarlet.
“What else?”
“I need you to find Kara Montiago’s ex-lover who’s gone MIA, Chris Galindez. The detectives Tommy assigned have hit a wall.”
“Where should I start?”
“He lives in Half Moon Bay, but he flew the coop last week and hasn’t returned. No one seems to know where his is.”
“Are we presuming he was murdered too?”
“Not necessarily. I need you to rule out that Galindez is dead. If he’s alive, let me know where, and we’ll discuss approaching him,” she said.
“In the wise words of Bob Dylan on Highway 61, ‘I think it can be easily done.’”
“I was never into Bob Dylan, but you might find yourself on Highway 1,” she said.
“Wouldn’t be the first time. Anything else?”
“I take it you’ll do these assignments around your regular job?”
“I could do them quicker if I took a few days off. You’d need a substitute driver, though.”
“Get me a sub. It’s worth it.”
“Will do.” He rose and left her office.
What a professional, she thought. To think daddy was hiding Frank from me all this time.
She turned her attention to preparing the search warrants Tommy would need for Jared Carlisle’s bank accounts.
***
Later that day, Amanda was interrupted by a call from Chance Greyson.
“Hello?”
“Hi Beautiful. When a
re you going to run for governor, so you can rescue me from my current hell?”
“I tried to warn you from taking that job. My advice is to get out now. Run as fast as you can.”
He groaned. “If only it were that easy. I have certain financial goals, and she’s paying me handsomely.”
“No doubt.”
“I’m not calling to complain about my current predicament, though. A big story just broke, so I think today might be the day to release your very attractive nude selfie.”
“What story?” she asked.
“The Golden State killer who was just busted by the police tracking his DNA through Ancestry.com.”
“I haven’t seen it yet. Let me get there.” She googled and saw that all the media outlets were humming with the news. “Hmm. I just don’t know….”
“I respect your reluctance. Remember, it was Jack, not me, who suggested the preemptive release of the nude pic. Personally, if I were in your shoes, I’d sit on it.”
“I just can’t help but wonder if I’d do more damage to myself by releasing it than waiting. Who knows whether I’ll even be a public figure a few years from now, in which case I wouldn’t care.”
“It’s up to you. If I release it today, then I’d release your engagement photos tomorrow with our press release.”
“Let me think about it. I know I can’t pull the trigger right now. I have too many other things I’m thinking about for work. I’ll text you tonight or tomorrow if I want you to release it.”
“Sounds good. I’m here whenever you need me,” he said. “Are you and Jen still planning on next weekend at Stinson Beach?”
“Yes. Thanks for reminding me. I spoke to Jen and we’re looking forward to it.”
“So are we. Okay, gotta run. Catch you later.”
***
Hall of Justice
When the day drew to a close, Amanda received a text from Jen.
Chloe texted me that we’re meeting them at Pacific Café at six.
Amanda’s stomach lurched. She had forgotten to text Jen. I’m so sorry. I forgot to tell you that Jack and I spoke.
Jen replied, No worries. See you there.
Love u! Amanda set her phone on her desk, leaned her head back against her chair, and aggressively rubbed her eyes. Ryan’s role in this cluster-fuck investigation was affecting her more than she had realized. I can’t believe I forgot to text Jen. Shit.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to see a female in a blue suit, an SFPD badge hanging on her coat pocket.
“Can I help you?” Amanda asked.
“I’m Sonja Rodriguez, your substitute driver. Frank Degrugilliers had to take a few days off.”
Amanda rose and walked over to the solidly-built woman with kind, dark eyes and a short, snappy hair style. “Pleasure to meet you, Sonja.”
They shook hands. “The pleasure’s mine, Ms. Hawthorne.”
Good vibes flowed off Sonja. Healthy. Strong. Quick. Amanda immediately liked her. “Call me Amanda.”
Sonja tipped up her chin. “I’m ready to go when you are.”
“Give me a minute.”
Sonja stood outside the door while Amanda shut down her computer, turned off lamps and tossed her iPad into her bag. She locked her office and took the lead through the DA’s suite, glancing around at the mostly empty offices. Jeremy was still working, as per usual, but almost everyone else had gone. Amanda didn’t wait for Sonja to open doors, taking the initiative herself as they flew down the stairwell and exited into the fresh air off the Bay.
Sonja hustled ahead of Amanda to open the back door of the car, which Amanda paused to let her do. Once they were tucked in, Sonja asked, “Where to?”
“Pacific Café on Geary Boulevard, please.”
“Is that in the Richmond District?”
“The one and only. Next to Sea Cliff –where I live. Or, used to live, that is…” Amanda felt weird about saying she used to live in Sea Cliff but no longer. Her identity was more wrapped up in the neighborhood than she previously realized. “Pacific Café is on the corner of 34th and Geary.”
Sonja squinted, considering the location. “Does Frank usually take Fell and Fulton Streets?”
“Yes.” Amanda was impressed.
Sonja gently eased Amanda’s expensive car into gear and cautiously pulled into traffic. Amanda felt like they were crawling along, which made her wonder if Sonja was nervous about driving such an expensive car. “Sonja, you don’t have to be gentle with my car. Drive it like you would a cruiser.”
“Are you serious?” Sonja’s eyes briefly met Amanda’s in the rearview mirror.
“Absolutely. Go for it.”
Sonja noticeably accelerated and began driving even more aggressively than Frank. Amada smirked, quickly deciding that she liked her new driver. She turned her attention to emails during the 30-minute trip.
When they arrived at Pacific Café, Jen, Kristin, Jack and Chloe were standing in line, waiting for her. As if purposefully blocked off for Amanda, there was an open spot on the street directly across from the restaurant. Sonja deftly parallel parked and came around to open Amanda’s door. Now that they were outside the Hall of Justice, Sonja insisted on walking next to Amanda rather than trying to keep up with her.
Amanda could tell by the look on Jen’s face that she was scrutinizing Sonja, as they crossed the street and joined the group.
“Hey, babe,” Amanda said to Jen, moving into her embrace.
Jen kissed the side of Amanda’s head. “Where’s Frank?”
Amanda smiled over Jen’s shoulder, amused. She hoped that Jen wasn’t jealous, because she had nothing to be jealous about. Amanda was hell-bent on staying loyal to Jen, and, over time, would prove that she could be.
Amanda broke from their hug. “Hey everyone, Frank is out for a few days, so Detective Rodriguez is my security.”
The adults smiled, and Kristin held up her hands for Amanda to pick her up. Amanda immediately obliged, giving Kristin kisses on her forehead.
“I’m Jen, Amanda’s fiancée, and this is our daughter, Kristin.”
Sonja smiled politely.
“These are my parents, Jack and Chloe,” Amanda said, surprised that Jen introduced herself.
“Nice to meet you,” Sonja said. “I’ll stay out of your way.” She moved to the back of the line and lingered by the open kitchen door next to an ever-present cat. She tried to blend into the background, but her navy pantsuit and badge were wildly out of place among the casually-dressed diners, who were chatting loudly over free glasses of wine.
“Good day at work?” Jen asked.
“Kind of frustrating. You?” Amanda said.
“Busy, but all good,” Jen said.
“We have your new house move-in ready,” Chloe said. “I’ll make up the beds tomorrow, so you can spend your first night there tomorrow night.”
“Thanks Mom. I really appreciate everything you and dad have done.”
Chloe squeezed Amanda’s arm and gazed adoringly on Kristin. “We’re here for you and your family.” She ran the back of her hand gently across Kristin’s cheek.
Chapter 38
Hall of Justice
Frank Degrugilliers drove to the Scarlet Huntington Hotel. He asked the front desk receptionist to fetch the manager on duty, hoping Molly was there. Within seconds, she emerged from the door behind the desk. As soon as she saw Frank, her eyes swiftly scanned the lobby for the rest of the team, no doubt for Tommy, in particular.
Frank slid his SFPD business card across the high desk. “Detective Frank Degrugillier, Ms. Peng.”
“You remembered my name?” she asked.
“You made a strong impression the last time we were here.”
Her demure smiled appeared then quickly vanished. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to follow up on a few details from our previous visit.”
She waited.
“I was wondering if there’s a back stairwell from the
Passion Suite to the first floor? Maybe a fire exit?”
“Of course.”
“Do you have any video surveillance of the fire exit?”
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Degrugillier. We have video only in the public areas that I showed you.”
He adjusted his belt at the sides of his pants while he registered what she said. “Can you show me where the back stairwell exits to the outside?”
“Sure. Follow me.” She opened a drawer and grabbed a set of keys then came around the corner of the front desk and sped off toward the main entrance.
Frank followed her brisk pace through the revolving door and around the side of the brick building. They walked half a block to a metal, unmarked door at the edge of the vines covering the brick. She pointed above the door to a large, black security camera. It was the kind that captures a wide radius, including the sidewalk where they were standing. “That’s the only surveillance camera I know of for the fire exit.”
“You don’t have any inside the door?” he asked.
Anticipating his question, she used a key on the fat ring to unlock the door. Frank held it open and they entered. They stood in a dank concrete stairwell. Frank inspected the ceiling corners for cameras. Seeing none, he ran up a few flights of stairs, and when he didn’t see any there, he returned to her side. Satisfied with his search, he nodded, and they returned to the breathable air outside.
“Can I get a disc of the security video from this camera?” he asked.
“For the same night as the other cameras?”
“Yes.”
She blinked her eyes and nodded, then scurried toward the main entrance. Frank hustled along beside her.
Once they returned to the lobby, she said, “I’ll be just a minute,” and disappeared through the manager door.
Frank sauntered over to the opposite end of the lobby and busied himself with making coffee and nibbling on a warm chocolate chip cookie.
Ten minutes later, Molly came bustling around the receptionist desk with a disc in hand. “Here you are.”
“Thank you for your hospitality and efficient work,” he said.
She barely acknowledged his compliment. “Greet your colleague, Detective Vietti, from me.”
“I will. Thank you.”
***
Later that night
Amanda lay wrapped in Jen’s arms, sleeping soundly. In her dream, she was running as fast as a cheetah through Muir Woods, the giant redwoods passing by in a blur. Her lungs filled with the earthy scent of the ancient forest as she pumped her legs up hill. ‘I’m not a runner. ‘I’m a yogi,’ she reminded herself. She looked down at her feet and saw they were bare, covered in mud, and bleeding. She expected to feel searing pain, but instead felt like her feet were tucked in a thick sock inside a cushioned running shoe. She wished Jen could see her—running on the Dipsea trail toward Stinson Beach—at the head of the pack. Except for her bloody feet. Would Jen be angry at Amanda for running the trail barefoot? Should Amanda hide her feet and not tell Jen? Would Jen notice anyway? Would Jen be mad that Amanda didn’t ask Jen to run with her? Amanda suddenly found herself standing knee-deep in the ocean at Stinson Beach, hiding her feet from Jen, who ran into the water and gave Amanda a victory hug for finishing the Dipsea Trail race.
