“She just needs to call Sage or better yet, bring her over here.” Stevie pointed at Hanna. “This isn’t any of your business. She and I will do fine without you buttin’ in.”
Hanna took several step towards the reception desk. The security guard turned and gave her a sharp shake of his head.
“Does Mr. Sage know you?” Simmons asked.
“See this? This is his work!” Stevie raised his index and middle finger to the large purplish green bruise on his cheek. “He did this. Sucker punched me.”
“I hate it when that happens.” Simmons gently put his hand on Stevie’s shoulder and tried to direct him away from Reception.
“Get your hands off me!”
Simmons put his hands up, palms facing Stevie, in a motion of compliance. “OK, let’s just calm down a bit. Now tell me what the problems is. Why is it you need to see Mr. Sage? Maybe I can help.”
“He and that woman over there came to my old lady’s house and beat me up and took her kid. They’re trying to get our welfare cut off, that’s what. I want the kid back now!”
“You know, I’ve known Cole Sage a long time and I never knew him to be a kidnapper. You suppose this is just some kind of misunderstanding? Who is this kid, anyway?”
“She’s my old lady’s kid. She lives with us at her grandma’s place. We all live together.”
“What’s her name?”
“Um, she goes by, uh, her name’s…”
“Let’s start with her mom. What’s her name?”
“Natalie,” Stevie answered.
“Pretty name. What’s yours?”
“Stevie.”
“Well, Stevie, how ‘bout I call Mr. Sage and see if he can straighten this out for us.”
“That’s all I want. That’s all I’m askin’. I don’t need all this other crap.”
“None of us do. You stay right here and I’ll go call.”
As he approached the reception counter Simmons said, “Keri, can you ring Mr. Sage for me?” Then, in an effort to keep Stevie from hearing he whispered, “Keep an eye on me. If I give you the nod, call the police.”
Keri smiled and nodded. “Mr. Sage? We have a bit of a problem. Craig needs to speak to you.” Keri glanced up and the security guard, then said, “Here he is.”
Keri handed the phone to Craig.
“Hi Cole. I have a fella down here in the lobby named Stevie. He’s pretty upset. He says you and Hanna took his daughter or something.”
“My old lady’s daughter!” Stevie shouted.
Craig turned to check on the kids from the field trip, and saw a couple dozen phones filming and snapping pictures as fast as they could. Terrific, he thought. Hanna stood wide-eyed and gave Craig Simmons a what-do-I-do shrug.
“I kinda figured as much. What do you want me to do? I can do that. Yes, sir that’s what I’m here for.” Craig handed the phone back to Keri. “Remember what I said.”
“Well, Stevie, it seems Mr. Sage is pretty busy. He asked me to tell you he has nothing to say to you. The girl is in a safe place and is being taken care of. So I’ll need you to leave.”
From his baggy jeans pocket Stevie pulled a knife and with a flick of the wrist the blade was out and his hand waved it in front of Craig Simmons.
“You call him back, you hear? You call him back and tell him I’m not going anywhere ‘til he mans-up and comes down here and faces me man to man. I want the girl, I want the money, and I want to give Sage a dose of this!”
The guard looked at the receptionist and gave her a nod.
“I’m afraid that just isn’t going to happen. Now, put the knife away and leave peacefully while you still can. You really don’t want to get locked up over this, do you?”
“Don’t talk to me like you know me! What the hell do you know? That girl is our meal ticket. I can’t work, and her mother is a twenty-dollar street whore. I want that girl back! Grandma’s her guardian! She’ll tell ya what’s what!” Stevie was burning with rage and his movements were erratic.
“OK, we’re done here. Out you go!” Craig’s voice now boomed with authority and reflected his physical dominance over Stevie.
Stevie started to move on Simmons’s, then without warning darted to where Hanna watched the scene and grabbed the front of her jacket.
The knife swung through the air wildly, “You want me to cut her? Is that what you want?” Stevie swung around behind Hanna and pressed the knife to her throat.
With precision and a well-practiced fluid motion, Craig Simmons un-holstered his revolver: “Let. Her. Go.” There was no question as to Simmons’s meaning or intent.
“Get Sage!” Stevie screamed hoarsely.
“Let her go.” Simmons turned to the group. “Get out of here, kids.”
Like a huge jellyfish, the thirty students seemed to move as one freeform body running toward the door. Simmons circled, his back to the kids, assuring them that Stevie couldn’t get to them.
“I’m going to ask you once more,” Simmons said firmly.
“What are you gonna do, shoot me, Rent-a-Cop?”
“Hanna, stay calm.” Craig said, hoping to calm her, and keep her from doing anything to provoke Stevie.
“Cool as a cucumber,” Hanna said in a trembling voice.
“This guy’s a bully. He’s a coward or he wouldn’t have grabbed you. Don’t worry, he’s not going to do anything to you.” Simmons continued to circle. “Have you read any of Sue Grafton’s books?”
“Yeah,” Hanna replied.
“Shut up and get Sage!” Stevie yelled. “This ain’t a Book Club!”
“What do you suppose Kinsey Millhone would do in a situation like this?” Simmons smiled reassuringly.
“I said, shut up!” Stevie turned slightly and directed his attention to the receptionist. “Call Sage! Now! I’ll slit her throat! Call him!”
In that slight moment of distraction Hanna stomped her heel hard on the top of Stevie’s bare foot. A second later, she went limp, dropping to the floor, and rolling away from her capturer. Nothing registered with Stevie. In his drug muddled mind, his plan was unraveling, and he was unable to process the situation. In his fury he focused on the source of his plan’s disintegration and rushed Simmons. The knife slashed through the air and he screamed with the rage of a wounded animal. Unflinching, the security guard fired, dropping Stevie on his third step.
The bullet hit just above Stevie’s knee shattering his patella at the joint. The sound of the shot echoed in the lobby like a clap of thunder. The room suddenly roared with Stevie’s guttural screams. Simmons approached Stevie with confidence and determination. He kicked Stevie’s hand, sending the knife sliding across the floor.
Simmons holstered his weapon, took several steps back, and stood with his arms at his sides watching Stevie writhe on the floor.
“You shot me! What the hell, man?”
The security guard did not respond. Soon Stevie’s screams turned to moaning and Simmons realized he was crying.
Hanna was on her hands and knees looking up at Craig. Her face was the color of Wonder Bread.
“Can I go out to the kids?” the voice from behind Simmons stopped him from going to Hanna’s aid. “They must be freaking out.”
The teacher who watched the scene from behind the locked security door approached Simmons with the tour guide from the PR office.
“Yeah, go ahead.”
Before the teacher reached the door, it burst open with the full force of four SFPD officers. From Keri’s initial call it took the police approximately six minutes to arrive. A tall, raw-boned officer in street clothes, and a badge dangling from his neck, rushed to Hanna.
“Are you hurt, ma’am?” His voice was deep, but full of concern.
“Just my pride,” Hanna said raising to her knees.
He reached out and took Hanna by the hands. His large rough hands totally engulfed hers.
“What’s your name?” He smiled for the first time. A salt and pepper stubble covered his face. H
is hair was cropped short and showed white at the temple.
“Hanna.”
“Well, Hanna I think you were brilliant. Where did you learn that move?”
“Too many detective movies.” Hanna smiled and shrugged. “You saw that?”
“Those big glass doors make a good vantage point. I arrived just as you did your stomp, drop and roll. I’m Detective Winston Salem, by the way, I guess this gave that away.” He held up his gold shield.
“Detective?”
“Yep. Let’s go sit over here. I need to ask you a few questions.”
Hanna and the detective went to a group of chairs and a black and chrome couch that surrounded a short, newspaper covered table. They both seemed to want to sit on the couch but Salem yielded, taking a chair to Hanna’s left.
“So, let’s start with the basics,” Salem said taking out a small well-worn leather notebook from his hip pocket. “Hanna?”
“Day. Hanna Day.”
“Address?”
As Hanna answered she couldn’t help but notice the detective’s eyes. They were a deep blue, almost black. A thin scar ran through the lid of the right eye and on to his cheek.
“How about a phone number, where you can be reached?”
“I’m here Monday through Friday. She wanted to give him her cell number but didn’t want her voice to show how smitten she was becoming in the policeman. “Do you want my cell?” She said a little more excitedly that she intended.
“That would be nice.”
Nice? Hanna thought. Did he mean nice, nice, or just nice? She gave him the number without looking up.
“That’s the easy stuff. The guy that grabbed you…”
“Stevie,” Hanna interrupted.
“Stevie. He seemed to know you.”
“Well…” Hanna tried to gather her thoughts. “It’s kind of a long story.”
“I’m salaried. Take all the time you need.” Detective Salem smiled for the first time.
Hanna told the story of Lindsey coming to the paper, her trip to her house with Cole, the fight, and Lindsey coming to stay with her.
“What does your husband think of all this?” Salem asked.
“I’m not married. Haven’t been for…I’m not,” Hanna stammered.
“So, this Stevie character thinks you want the girl for the welfare payment?”
“Honestly, I was just doing what I thought was right. Money never entered into my thinking. The poor kid was in a terrible home situation, and before I knew it, and against Cole’s advice, she is staying with me.
“…and Cole is?”
“My boss. Sorry.”
“No, no, it’s fine. Does anyone know you have taken in…what’s her name?” Winston flipped back a page in his notes. “Lindsey?”
“Oh, yes sir,” Hanna handed the detective the envelope she was taking to the school.
Salem took out the papers. “Signed sealed and delivered. Well done again. Let me ask you something. Do you intend to adopt this girl? I’m kind of fuzzy on the arrangement here.”
“No, I mean…I…no! No adoption. I haven’t really thought it out that far in advance. I just took her in temporarily. So she had a safe place to stay, and would get her back in school. She was wandering the city, going anywhere she pleased, and school was the furthest thing from her mind.”
“Gotcha. You have no kids of your own?”
“No,” Hanna said softly. Funny question from a cop, she thought. What’s that got to do with Stevie?
There was an uncomfortable silence. Salem stared down at his notes and Hanna looked down at his left hand. No ring.
“Winston.”
“Sorry?” Hanna didn’t follow.
“My name…or what people call me.” The detective was suddenly blushing.
“Oh, I see. Sorry, I thought it was police jargon for end of the interview or something, like Roger or Wilco or…I’ll shut up now.” Now Hanna’s face flushed.
Winston Salem laughed. His wonderful speaking voice transformed into an infectiously delightful laugh.
“Dumb, huh?” Hanna said, embarrassed at her blunder.
“No, not at all. I thought it was absolutely delightful.” The detective looked into her eyes and Hanna shuddered.
“Are you from North Carolina?”
“It’s kind of a funny story if you’re into dark humor, but I’m not telling unless I get to buy you coffee.”
Hanna tried really hard not to let her delight show, but it was no use. Her face beamed with possibilities that coffee with the handsome cop presented.
“I take it from your smile the idea is not totally out of the question.”
“I would be happy to suffer through coffee to be able to crack the secret of your name,” Hanna teased.
“How about I help you deliver those papers and we grab coffee on the way back? You feel up for that?” Winston paused for a long moment. “Or maybe we should do it another day. You’ve been through a bit of an ordeal this morning.”
“Oh, I’m fine now. I think coffee would be nice.” Hanna wasn’t about to let the chance to get to know this man with the star get away.
“Great. You sit tight, and I’ll see what I need to do to wrap up my part of the show and we’ll be on our way.
Keri followed emergency protocol to the letter and, within moments of the police’s arrival, Craig Simmons, Hanna, and the high school teacher were joined by a trio of middle management personnel.
The aftermath of the disturbance lasted far longer than the incident itself. Stevie was taken away by ambulance, Simmons was interviewed, and Cole Sage came down to answer a few questions from the police. After an hour, the police left, management returned to their respective offices, and the janitor arrived to mop up Stevie’s blood. Keri went to the third floor cafeteria for her break, to bask in the glory of her “cool head” and her “courage under fire.” Still excited and recounting the story, everyone went back to work except for Craig Simmons and Keri, the receptionist, who were sent home for the rest of the day.
The teacher and the PR department guide decided it might be a good idea if the tour was rescheduled. There was no argument from any of the kids, and they eagerly boarded the bus for the trip back to the school, bouncing off the walls from the excitement.
“All set. Ready to go?” Winston’s smile was no longer just good cop.
“Ready.” Hanna stood next to the detective for the first time. Nice fit, she thought.
Out on the street Detective Salem directed citizen Hanna to a dark green sedan with blacked out windows.
“Company issue. Hop in.” He opened her door.
The car was outfitted with every kind of radio and scanner that could possibly fit on, and under, the dashboard. A clipboard sat in the passenger seat. Hanna picked it up and slid in.
“Just toss that in the back. Try not to hit the guy sleeping back there.”
Hanna’s head snapped around to find the back seat empty, except for a jacket.
“Gotcha,” Winston teased.
“You’re pretty funny for a detective,” Hanna replied.
“And you’re kind of funny pretty for a secretary,” Winston shot back.
“I’m not quite sure how to take that.”
“You are very pretty, in a different kind of way. I mean, there are a lot of kinds of pretty, but you are different. Your face makes me smile. I didn’t mean you are funny looking.” The detective frantically tried to talk his way out of the clumsy compliment.
“And you are humorously handsome.” Pause. “Shall we change the subject?” Hanna beamed like a school girl who just got her first, I like you. Do you like me? Valentine from the cute boy in class.
As the car pulled away from the curb, Winston asked, “Where are we going? I mean, what school? Not coffee, there’s only one place in the city to get coffee, right?”
“Wallenberg High School. Do you know where it is?” Hanna really wanted to ask about the coffee, but sat silently.
“Sure do
. So, where are you from, I mean originally?”
“The mid-west. My dad was in sales so we moved around. I’ve mostly lived in Utah, and California as an adult.”
“Mormon? Huh…not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s just that, I mean…”
Hanna guided Winston out of another minefield. “Nope, father was Jewish, my mother was a devout alcoholic.”
“Giants or A’s?”
“Cubs, I have a soft spot for lost causes. I don’t have to keep track, whatever it is, it’s going to be bad.”
Winston turned and smiled at Hanna. “She died. Two years ago. A crazy undetected liver cancer, then it spread everywhere. She was a fighter. They told us six to nine months, she lasted a year. Sally-Ann Marie Tyler, Texas girl. Prettiest thing I ever saw.” Winston cleared his throat. “There you are. Got that out of the way. You are the first woman I have even spoken to since, socially I mean. No flirting, nobody’s been in my car, no dates, no nothin’.”
Hanna for once was at a loss for words. Detective Salem looked straight ahead.
“Michael Robert Garner. Broke my heart, left me with sixty-thousand in debt, and a house I couldn’t pay for. He skipped town with a cute little sales girl from the radio station. The last guy I dated turned out to be married with three kids. That was five years ago. Now we’re up to speed on me.”
“Any big rush to hand those papers in?” Winston asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s get coffee first. Best coffee in the city is on the way to the school. Sort of.”
“Alright.”
Dynamo Donut and Coffee is truly a hole in the wall, or rather a roll-up door. It sets between a palm reader’s place and a Mexican church on 24th Street near Potrero. To both their surprise, there was a parking space just up the block.
Hanna was unusually quiet. She felt at ease with the handsome policeman, and felt comfortable enough to not fill the silence with meaningless chatter. Winston was going through his own processing of this impromptu coffee date. He was at turns excited and guilty, elated and terrified.
They walked passed the crowd at the walk-up counter and went inside.
“Hi Tessa!” Winston called out cheerfully.
Heart of Cole Page 12
