This was their last chance. Lena knew there was no way the judge could say no if they got it on tape. All Mr. Snitch had to do was get Waller to talk about the house, to say something about the guns or the drugs or the money, then they could go in and bust some bad guys.
At least that’s what Lena was praying for. Sid Waller was the last big case she was going to work for a while. She was looking at months of her life being consumed by her pregnancy, then a couple of weeks, maybe another month, home with the baby before she returned to work.
Just the thought of being away from the job that long made her feel antsy. Lena had always been a cop. She couldn’t lose that part of her identity. Lately, it seemed like she wasn’t going to have a choice. She was too tired to sleep, too sleepy to concentrate. She had to pee all the time. She was cold. She was hot. She was cold again. If this was what pregnancy was like, Lena wasn’t sure she could handle it. And the nausea was unrelenting. Why did they call it morning sickness when it was more like all-day sickness?
Lena sat on a bench in front of the Target. She had to unzip her jacket because she’d started sweating at some point during the easy walk across the parking lot. She found a tissue in the pocket and blew her nose. She wasn’t sure why her nose ran all the time now. Jared said she was making snot for two.
Lena checked the time on her phone. Sid Waller wasn’t due for another forty minutes. She’d rest for a little while, then go back to the van. That is, if she didn’t fall asleep first. Her eyelids felt heavy as she looked around the parking lot.
Lena found herself wondering if the world had always been filled with so many kids or if she was just seeing them now because she was pregnant. A toddler screamed as his mother pulled him toward the store. A child ran screeching around a minivan as his harried mom chased after him. Just outside the entrance to the store, another poor woman was bouncing a wailing baby on her hip.
Topping off this happy tableau was an extremely pregnant woman who was loading bags into the trunk of her car. Her belly was the size of a beachball. Sweat glued her hair to her head. She was parked in one of those expectant-mother parking spaces that Lena had always resented but now completely understood. The woman deserved to be closer to the door. She looked miserable. She dug her fist into her back as she unloaded the last bag from the cart. Her dress was way too tight. Even from a distance, Lena could see the thong sticking like dental floss between her ass cheeks.
“Jesus,” Lena whispered. She felt like a cow glimpsing behind the counter at the butcher’s shop.
Lena shivered. Her hands were cold. That’s how it usually started. The change in temperature worked its way from the edges. She stuck her hands into her jacket pockets. Her fingers curled around the photo. Lena guessed the ultrasound could be called a photograph. At the very least, it was a snapshot of what was going on inside of her.
Over the years, Lena had looked at her share of X-rays and medical reports. She’d seen ultrasound pictures taped on refrigerators, shown on TV screens, and even presented as evidence in court cases where the mother had been murdered.
Lena had never been particularly moved by the images. To her, they were just black and white blobs. She assumed that the ability to ooh and ahh over the tiny splotches and weird folds was lost on her. Also, there was something disturbing about looking at a person’s interior workings. Maybe Lena was a prude, but she couldn’t be the only one thinking that showing an ultrasound was tantamount to showing the world irrefutable proof that you’d had sex.
But that was before Lena had seen an ultrasound of her own baby. Everything had changed two days ago. She couldn’t understand it. How had that tiny, pulsing little bean opened up such a large space in her heart?
And how had it made Lena love Jared so much? She couldn’t explain the shift. Loving Jared was nothing new, but the sudden depth of her feeling was terrifying. Lena had never felt this way about a man before. She was completely out of control, incapable of hiding her vulnerabilities. At night, she clung to him. During the day, she couldn’t stop touching him. At first, Jared had been mildly annoyed. He generally wasn’t up for touching unless it led to something, but he’d become more receptive over the last few weeks. There had to be some hormone Lena was giving off. Even the guys at work were looking at her differently.
Work.
Lena couldn’t think about what would happen when she started to show. Not that she wasn’t already. They probably just thought she was getting fat—which she was. Her pants cut into her waist. She spilled out of her bra. Jared was ecstatic about this particular development. All Lena could think was that there was no way she could chase after some thug with her breasts flopping around. In a few months, she’d probably end up stuck behind a desk. She’d be doing paperwork and following up on witness statements while everyone else had all the fun. Was it worth it?
Lena looked down at the ultrasound. She touched the tiny little bean resting in white crescent arms. Of course it was worth it.
Her phone vibrated in her jacket pocket. Denise Branson. She was probably pacing the station house waiting for news.
Lena said, “What’s up, D?”
“Any news?”
Lena looked at the time. She should head back to the van. “He’s got another thirty minutes, but he’s always late.”
“I’m already pushing back a meeting,” Denise said. “You know it’s both our asses on the line now.”
“I know.” Lena reluctantly pushed herself up from the bench. “I appreciate it.”
“Listen.” Denise seemed eager to move on. “I got another piece of the Big Whitey puzzle.”
“Denise—”
“Just hear me out like I do with you, okay?” Lena owed her that much. “Okay.”
“I found an article in the Savannah Tribune. Eighteen months ago, two white girls showed up dead behind a church. Runaways from good homes. Heroin overdoses, both of them. From honor students to stone-cold junkies in less than a month. The needles were still in their arms. That sound familiar?”
“Honor students OD on heroin all the time,” Lena told her. “I could find a hundred other cases on the same day. Maybe thousands.”
“It’s just like what happened here.”
There was no use arguing. “Denise, I’m saying this as a friend. You’re obsessed with this. You’re too close.”
“So what if I am?”
Lena shook her head as she made her way back across the parking lot. Only in law enforcement was obsession considered an asset.
Denise said, “You’re obsessed with Sid Waller.”
“And I’m about to bust him,” Lena countered. “I’ve got a case. I’ve got a witness. I’ve got leads, photos, timelines. All you’ve got is a ghost.”
“You start out with all of that or did you put it together?”
Lena didn’t want to admit she had a point. Before Mr. Snitch magically appeared, Denise could’ve been asking Lena the same questions about Waller. But she hadn’t. She’d given Lena the support and time to do what she needed to do. “Did you track down that law firm?”
“I’m working on it. There’s some kind of connection there.”
“If you’re right, then maybe we can help each other out. Sid Waller’s the big man on campus. Once we take him down, he can give us Big Whitey.”
Denise huffed a laugh. “You think Sid Waller’s gonna turn? He’s got just as much juice inside the joint as he does out.”
She was right. The gangs ran the prisons and Waller would be a top dog. Still, she said, “It could happen.”
“I’m not giving Waller any deals. He can rot away his sick ass in jail. I can get Big Whitey on my own.”
Lena realized her fist was stuck in her back, just like the other pregnant woman. She dropped her hand. “All right. If you think you can put together a case, then you should get help. This is too big for one person. Two, if you count me, because you know I’m there for you.”
Denise snorted. “You know I’m off-book. How am I gonna g
o to Lonnie for help when he told me to shut this down months ago? He’s not gonna spend one dime of department money on Big Whitey. At least not until it’s too late.”
She was right again. By budgetary necessity, police forces were more reactive than preventative these days.
Lena had an idea. “I know somebody with the state who can give us a hand.”
“I can’t jump over Lonnie’s head.”
“I know that,” Lena said. Gray was relatively new to Macon, but he’d spent the past fifteen years heading up forces all around the state. They both respected him too much to stab him in the back. Not to mention that when push came to shove, Gray could twist that knife right back in theirs. “You could reach out informally. I know an agent who’s discreet.” She didn’t mention that the man had investigated her almost two years ago. “He’s a cop, but he doesn’t act like one. He’ll give you the support you need. At the very least, he can help you put together some of these pieces.”
“You think I’m gonna let the GBI come stomping onto my turf and taking credit?” She gave a harsh laugh. “You know how many hours I’ve put into this? How many miles on my car? How many sleepless nights? I’ve got blood in this fight, Lee. I’m not going to let go of it now.”
Lena recognized the righteous indignation in her tone. Five years ago, Lena would’ve been saying the same thing, sounding the same way. She’d been so sure of herself before Jeffrey died. She was the one who was always right. She didn’t need help. She didn’t need some asshole trying to grab credit. Lena had taken on the world single-handedly every day—right up until the world knocked her flat on her ass.
Denise said, “If you’d talked to that girl, listened to her mama, then you’d feel the same way as me.”
“I know,” Lena said. She was glad she hadn’t spoken with either of them, otherwise she probably would’ve been sucked in right along with Denise. “You work the case. You don’t let the case work you.”
“What does that mean?” Denise shot back.
“This ghost you’re chasing—it’s affecting your life.”
“In what way?”
Lena didn’t answer. Denise wanted some bowling pins she could knock down. Lena knew from experience that the job wasn’t kind to lonely women. It could make you too driven. Too hard. It could scare people away from you.
Having Jared in her life had changed that for Lena. He’d shouldered some of the burden. He’d made her feel like it was okay to let go.
And then there was the baby. Lena put her hand to her stomach. Her face felt hot. An idiotic grin spread across her mouth. It was the hormones. She was glad she wasn’t in the van with Paul and DeShawn. She was probably fucking glowing.
“Come on, Adams,” Branson prompted. “Give it to me straight.”
Lena shrugged off the challenge. “Did you hear DeShawn’s getting divorced again?”
“And you think ’cause he’s black and I’m black that we’re a match made in heaven?”
“Please, he should be so lucky.” As hypocritical as it sounded, Lena told her, “I’m just saying that you can’t do both—be married to the job and married to a wife. What are you working for if you don’t have someone to come home to?”
Denise’s words were pointed. “You mean husband.”
The phone line was deadly silent. Denise Branson went to church every Sunday. She made the appropriate noises when a good-looking man walked by. But so had Lena’s sister, and Sibyl had been as gay as a three-dollar bill.
Denise was all business again. “Call me as soon as the meet’s over. If you can’t get Waller on tape, Lonnie’s gonna give us a come-to-Jesus talk. And I’m not gonna argue with him, because he’ll be right.”
“Denise, give me a break.”
“Don’t talk about break, girl, talk about broke. Do you know how much this is costing the department? Twenty-four-hour surveillance going on ten days. Overtime for everybody and their mother. We passed the half-million mark last weekend. I can’t even do the math on where we are now. I’ve been waiting for this meet to pan out so when I take it to Lonnie, he doesn’t kick my ass out the door.”
“I know you’re taking heat for me.”
“Shit,” Denise muttered. “I wish it was heat. I’m standing in a damn ring of fire.”
Lena was almost to the van. She glanced around, making sure she wasn’t being watched. “I’ll get Waller. I promise.”
“You don’t, then get a newspaper. We’re gonna both need to start looking for new jobs.” She let the phone slam down in Lena’s ear.
Lena slipped her hand back into her pocket. She traced the edge of the ultrasound as she walked toward the white van with the AT&T logo on the side. As far as she knew, no one had bothered to get clearance from the phone company. Lena figured they should shut up and take the free advertising.
“Hey, boss.” DeShawn came around the side of the van. He was so big he cast her completely in shadow.
Lena’s hand went to her throat. “You sure move light for a Mack truck.”
“That’s what the ladies say.” He winked at her. “You doing all right?”
Lena felt her defenses go up. “Why?”
He shrugged and shook his head. “No reason.”
“You take yourself off the monitors and stand out here waiting for me for no reason?”
He had the grace to admit he’d been caught. “I know this whole Waller thing’s been weighing hard on you.”
“Why? Has Lonnie said something?” Lena knew that DeShawn was Gray’s eyes and ears, but she’d never thought of him as a tattletale. “What did he say?”
“Nothing, and I didn’t say anything to him.” DeShawn looked at her like she was paranoid for no reason. “Come on, gal. You know I’m on your team.”
“What’s going on?” Lena asked. Now that she was looking at him, he seemed on edge, like something else was going on. “Why are you acting weird?”
DeShawn gave a heavy sigh. “I just noticed you’ve been tired lately.”
“So? We’re all tired. We’ve been butts to nuts for weeks.”
He gave the sigh again. “I just wanted you to know that it’s okay by me if you decide to take a back seat on—”
“Fuck your back seat,” Lena snapped. “I’ve never taken a back seat on anything in my life.”
“All right.” He held up his hands. “Just worried about you, is all.”
“Worried about me why?”
His mouth twisted to the side, like he was debating whether or not to tell her something. Lena knew DeShawn’s sister had two girls. Maybe he’d figured out that Lena was pregnant. In which case, she had to shut this down fast.
She said, “Get your panties out of your cooch, Shawn. I appreciate your concern, but the best thing for both of us right now is for you to do your job and me to do mine. All right?”
He held up his hands in surrender again. “You’re the boss.”
She knocked on the side of the van. “It’s me.”
Eric Haigh cracked open the door. The whole gang was here. He told Lena, “We got a call from Waller’s tail. He’s about five minutes out.”
Paul couldn’t help but add, “I was right. He’s probably coming early to case the restaurant.”
Lena wasn’t interested in giving credit. She started to hold out her hand for help, then decided it would be better to show DeShawn she was capable of moving her own weight. Still, she groaned as she pulled herself up.
DeShawn vaulted in without assistance, probably to prove a point. He slammed the door shut behind him.
“Jesus Christ.” Lena clapped her hands over her face. The smell was disgusting. “What’ve you guys been doing in here?”
“Sorry,” Eric said. “I had Mexican for lunch.”
“Thanks a lot, dickslit.” Paul punched him in the arm. Eric rewarded him with the wettest-sounding fart Lena had ever heard.
“Oh, God.” She pinched her nose closed and breathed through her mouth. “Please tell me Snitch is still there
.”
Paul provided, “Mr. Snitchy is on the bench looking at the kiddies.”
“Looking at them how?” Lena checked the monitor to see for herself. Snitch still had on his sunglasses. His arms were sprawled across the back of the bench. “Are you sure he’s not asleep?”
“Look at his foot.”
He was right. Snitch’s heel was hopping up and down so fast the camera barely registered the movement. Lena asked, “Where’s Mom?”
DeShawn was back in his chair. He pulled up the appropriate camera. The mother was still on the phone, stretched out in the booth as if she planned to stay there for a while.
“Good thing he’s not a pedophile,” Lena said. She motioned for Eric to get out of her chair.
Eric said, “The seat might be a little warm.”
Paul laughed again, and she slapped him on the back of the head. “Why is everyone in this van an asshole except for me?”
Paul asked, “You okay, boss?”
Lena scowled at him. “Since when am I the boss?”
“You’re in charge, right?” Paul indicated his empty chair. “What’s going on with you? Your face is all red.”
She put her hand to her cheek. The skin was hot. “It’s probably gas poisoning.”
“You sure about that?” He cocked an eyebrow at her, but he didn’t push it.
“All right, ladies and Lena.” DeShawn rubbed his hands together. “Mr. Waller has arrived.”
A red Corvette idled in the parking lot. The windows were down. Sid Waller circled the lot twice before parking in a space by the road. He’d brought weight with him. Diego Nuñez was in the passenger seat. He had his arm resting on the door. A cigarette dangled from his fingers.
Eric squinted at the monitor. “Is that a joint?”
DeShawn checked it out. “Looks like it.”
“Damn,” Paul said. “Chick-fil-A don’t like queers. What’re they gonna do with a spic toking a doobie?”
“Shut up,” Lena said. She tried to tune out their voices as she watched Sid Waller get out of the car. The metal chain on his wallet swung as he strutted across the parking lot. His long, skanky hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He wore ragged jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves ripped off. Tattoos covered both arms. Like Paul, he was incapable of just opening a door. He flung it open to announce his presence.
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