Nick rubbed his chin and shook his head. “Carly, you’ve been told to stay away. Tucker doesn’t bluff; he’ll suspend you in a heartbeat if you give him a reason.”
“I know, I know. But I can’t stay out of it. You know I was never a good bench sitter. Besides, I have a specific idea about where to start looking.”
“Where?”
“The harbor. Everything seems to have started there. Jeff’s drug bust, for example. And the kid arrested with Londy, Darryl Jackson, worked at the harbor. Also, Galen Burke has a business office at the harbor.”
“Now that you mention it, Mayor Burke pumped a lot of redevelopment money into the harbor area as well. But—” Nick looked at her oh so earnestly—“if any of this is true, we have to be very, very careful. Two people are already dead.”
We. Carly cringed at the sound of the word. Am I making a huge mistake? It’s too late to turn back now. “I know. I don’t relish the idea of investigating fellow officers; they are, after all, people who carry guns.”
The need to move around burst inside Carly, so she walked away from Nick and tossed a ball, watching while Hector and Maddie chased it. “So,” she began, giving him a sideways glance, “you’ll help?”
“Yeah. Jeff is—or was—my best friend. I go back to work tomorrow. I can poke around the docks, maybe visit Galen Burke’s office. There might be someone down there who remembers seeing the car or Darryl or Teresa.” He sat in a lawn chair and watched the dogs.
“Great.” Carly grabbed the slobbery ball from Maddie’s mouth and tossed it again. “Londy and Darryl are scheduled to be arraigned tomorrow. I might try to make it to court. I’m sure they’ll certify Londy to be tried as an adult.”
“You sure going to the arraignment won’t antagonize Tucker?” Husbandlike concern tinged his voice, and Carly turned to face him.
A sharp retort sat on her tongue, but it was Hector’s jumping up and getting her muddy that stopped it. This is going to be so hard, she thought while she brushed mud off her pants. I go from being glad he’s helping to wanting to bite his head off in seconds flat.
“The arraignment is public.” She shrugged. “What grounds would he have to object? Anyway, my mom is a friend of the kid’s mom. I bet she’ll want to go. I’ll be there with the two of them.” She called Maddie to her side. “Right now I’d better head home. We’ll go out the side gate; Maddie is a mess. Say good-bye to Elaine for me?”
“Sure. I’ll be on my way home as soon as she leaves for her folks’.” He walked to the gate, stopping her with the gentle touch of his hand on her shoulder. “And, Carly, I . . . well, thanks again for the clothes. And . . .” He blushed and kicked the grass with the toe of his shoe. “Just thanks; that’s all.”
Carly said nothing, just nodded and walked to her car. As she loaded the dog in, the strangest feeling came over her, the feeling that there was more to say. She started the car and drove away, glancing in her rearview mirror to see Nick watching her leave.
17
“The arraignment is when the accused is made aware of the formal charges against him and given a chance to enter a plea,” Carly explained to her mother and Dora. They were sitting in the back of a courtroom packed with media. The lawyers were also present, a public defender for Darryl and the private attorney Dora had hired for Londy. As Carly had guessed, proceedings earlier in the day certified Londy would be tried as an adult.
Both attorneys entered not-guilty pleas. Preliminary hearings would be scheduled within ten days unless the defendants waived time. Darryl’s public defender didn’t seem to care how long it took to get to the prelim. On the other hand, Londy’s private attorney, an unimpressive man named Nathan Wagner, argued for a speedy preliminary hearing. The judge set the date in the middle, for five of ten, which meant the hearing would be held in a week. At that time the state would need to present compelling evidence to show that both defendants should be held over for trial.
When the judge set the hearing date, the newspeople rose up as one and filed out of the court, hurrying to write their stories and articulate impressions of the two defendants. Carly saw Alex Trejo in the mix and was glad he’d apparently not noticed her.
After court officers removed the defendants from the courtroom, Nathan Wagner walked back to talk to Dora. “I have a lot to do in the next week. I don’t believe the state can build a strong case on what I’ve seen so far.” He took Dora’s hand. “Do you have any questions?”
“No, I think I understand everything that went on. It’s all in God’s hands anyway.”
The lawyer smiled. “Yes, everything is in his hands. My wife’s prayer group started early this morning praying for Londy’s case.”
Carly rolled her eyes and looked the other way while her mom, Dora, and the lawyer said a short prayer. She managed to find a Bible-thumping lawyer. Bet they even try to find a Bible-thumping jury.
* * *
The next day the city of Las Playas prepared to lay Mayor Burke to rest.
“Everyone will be there?” Andrea asked as Carly gathered parts of her class-A formal uniform to wear to Teresa Burke’s funeral.
“Yep. Chief Kelly canceled all holidays and ordered everyone breathing to be there. Joe got out of it because his wife just gave birth.”
“Who’s minding the city?”
“The sheriff and highway patrol are sending people in for a few hours. No speeding to work, and give up the bank robbery plan.”
“Shoot.” Andrea snapped her fingers. “I hope to make it to the reception; I get off at five thirty today. Sorry I’ll miss the rest of the fun.”
“Fun?” Carly grimaced. “I hate funerals, don’t plan on going to mine.”
She kissed the dog good-bye and rushed out the door.
In the locker room, polishing her shoes, Carly was hard pressed to remember the last time she’d worn the dress uniform. In patrol, the day-to-day uniform did not require a tie, a hat, or long sleeves. The formal getup meant her best long-sleeved patrol uniform plus a tie and a uniform cap. And everything needed a sharp, inspection-proof shine. She searched her locker for the tie and ended up borrowing a tie clip. The cap was in a protective plastic cover on the top locker shelf. When she pulled it down, she remembered—the last time she’d worn all the parts of the class-A was at her graduation ten years ago.
Carly shined everything that needed to be shined, from her shoes, badge, and Sam Browne belt, to the cap piece on her cover. She carefully inspected her long-sleeved shirt for stray strings. Then, Kevlar vest first, she climbed into her uniform. Wistfully she took in her image in the full-length mirror. Everything fit; she hadn’t put on weight. No extra wrinkles that I can see, she thought. Steady dark-brown eyes looked back at her, maybe a little puffy from lack of sleep, and her fair skin looked somewhat pale, probably because she’d missed her swim that day. After clipping her hair up cleanly off the collar, she finished her perusal and wished she were going back to patrol, not to a funeral.
“I heard that Hanks was sleeping with Mayor Burke for months.” Officer Samantha Grey breezed into the locker room spinning a tale of gossip. Three young officers followed her like puppies. Her locker was one row over from Carly’s.
Carly busied herself with picking lint off the dark wool of the uniform. On good days she avoided Grey like the plague. The woman was responsible for more pain and misinformation around the department than a Communist dictator.
“How did he get away with it?” asked one of her followers, a rookie Carly didn’t know.
“He had some dirt on his sergeant, so he got away with anything.”
Her audience dutifully oohed and aahed.
Carly slammed her locker door, grabbed her hat, and stepped around to confront Grey. “Spreading your usual trash, Samantha? Jeff is a brother officer; don’t you think he deserves to be given the benefit of the doubt?”
Grey looked up at Carly, surprise showing in eyes lined heavily with makeup. “Oh, I suppose you know something different? If he’
s innocent, where is he? And as for you, I hear you can’t even conduct a simple interview.” She shrugged dismissively and turned away from Carly.
“At least I know better than to make stuff up for the sake of gossip. If you rookies had any sense, you’d be interested in facts, not the babbling of a gossipmonger.” She turned on her heel and stormed out of the locker room, happy with the shocked look on Grey’s face. The woman wasn’t confronted often enough.
She pushed Samantha Grey out of her mind and went looking for Nick. But Carly couldn’t douse the unsettled feeling that was building in her gut from the snippet Grey threw at her. Where is Jeff? Before driving to the station, she’d tried his phone number several times, always with the same result. It was as if he’d disappeared off the face of the earth.
And no information about either Teresa’s or Cinnamon’s murders had leaked from anywhere during the last couple of days. The coroner hadn’t yet publicly released his preliminary report on Teresa’s death. Homicide must have the report. Who can I coerce into leaking information? Carly thought for a moment. Peter Harris. I’ll have to talk to him out of Sergeant Tucker’s hearing.
She fiddled with her cap, not wanting to put it on until the last minute, and scanned a growing crowd of blue suits for Nick. Officers were forming up behind the station. Every functioning cruiser was cleaned up and ready to roll. They were ordered to fill the black-and-whites, four uniformed officers to a car. Once the marked vehicles were gone, they would fill the plain cars. There was a bus on loan for people left without a car. In Carly’s opinion, the chief wanted a complete dog and pony show for the TV cameras, not necessarily for the memory of Mayor Burke.
She considered the production ahead. First was a memorial service to be held at a Christian church. After the service, the caravan of police cars would follow the hearse to the cemetery. Teresa would be laid to rest in the center of the city at the oldest cemetery in Las Playas. The makings of a huge motorcade milled about in the lot. Carly noticed that many officers had brought their wives; several women in dresses were standing around looking uncomfortable and out of place.
She herself felt uncomfortable and out of place. Where was Nick? He’d promised to have a car ready and waiting.
“Carly!” As if on cue, her ex appeared, neat and impressive in his sergeant’s uniform, striding across the lot toward her.
He looked like the image in the recruiting poster. She swallowed and returned his greeting. “Hi, how’s everything going?”
“Okay, I guess, for having to wear the whole costume.” Nick smiled and tugged at his collar. His cap was already on his head.
So handsome and professional.
“I have a car ready, and we’re going to ride with a couple of narco guys. Maybe we can ask them about Jeff and the narcotics detail.” He waved for her to follow, and she fell into step next to him.
“Great. I’m also hoping to talk to Peter Harris. He might have the prelim on the autopsy by now.”
“If you want, I could ask him. Pete and I have become good golfing buddies.”
“Golf? You play golf?” Carly cast him an amused glance.
“Yep. I guess I admitted to myself I was getting older and it was time to learn an old man’s game.”
Carly chuckled, and Nick smiled before he continued. “It’s actually pretty fun.”
“Whatever.” She shook her head in amusement.
Nick stopped at the rear of a sergeant’s black-and-white. “Here’s our sled. Now, where are the narco guys? We’re supposed to start this parade in a few minutes. Motorcycle reserves are already setting up at intersections, waiting for the caravan to roll through.” He looked at Carly, started to say something, and then stopped.
“What?”
“I just . . . Were you planning on going to the reception after the funeral?”
“I thought about it, but I guess I didn’t want to hang out because a lot of guys will be drinking.” She straightened her belt and checked the shine on her shoes, hesitant to tell him she didn’t want to be hit on by drunken cops. The alternative was hanging out with her ex, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that, at least not in front of the whole department.
“Why don’t you follow me over? We don’t have to stay long, but maybe we’ll hear something. I, uh . . . Well, it’s not a date or anything.” He looked so pained, so sure Carly would slap him down, she laughed and forgot her reservations.
“That will be fine. We can at least get something to eat.”
He relaxed visibly, and they continued to scan the crowd.
The two narcotics guys arrived, stiff and uncomfortable in uniforms they probably hadn’t worn in years. Carly didn’t know either one; she’d seen them around, but that was the extent. There was little time for chitchat because the voice of a lieutenant announced over the PA that it was time for everyone to get in their cars and leave for the church.
Nick drove, with Carly the front passenger. Conversation was nonexistent; the two narcotics officers either couldn’t or didn’t want to talk through the custody cage separating the front and back sections of the patrol car. The atmosphere in the car was unnerving, and Carly steeled herself, knowing it would be worse at the church.
They arrived at the church to organized chaos. Media vans were already set up, and cameras studiously recorded the arrival of each and every black-and-white. Cops pouring from the patrol cars quickly filled the courtyard. Las Playas PD numbered close to five hundred, and Carly guessed most were here. Protocol dictated that all those in uniform enter the church together, marching in military style, so ranks started forming in preparation. Citizens wishing to pay their respects were already filing into one side of the church.
The media were everywhere, even overhead with the drone of news copters. Nick and Carly parted company when he lined up toward the front with the other sergeants. She found a spot in the ranks three rows back and stood on her tiptoes to see over the heads of officers in front of her. She could see the Las Playas PD honor guard at the entrance of the church but very little else.
As the honor guard sergeant began to call everyone to attention, Carly saw Alex Trejo. He was leaning against a pillar near one of the church doors, looking directly at her. She wondered how long he’d been staring, standing there with a stupid, self-satisfied smirk. Carly imagined his mouth was full of pointy, sharklike teeth. Because he was the police beat reporter, she bet his story would have nothing to do with the mayor and everything to do with the allegations against Jeff.
Glaring at him, Carly hated the fact that a headline announcing the conviction of a cop like Jeff would probably make the reporter’s day. I wish I could tell him to leave, she thought and almost stepped his way. But it was time for her section to come to attention, and her view of Trejo was cut off as other officers closed ranks around her.
18
“My wife was a woman of boundless energy and optimism,” Galen Burke began Teresa’s eulogy. “She loved the city of Las Playas and worked hard to make it prosper and grow.”
Burke was a medium-sized, average-looking man. Except for the fact that his suit was obviously expensive and tailored, there was nothing outstanding about him. His hair was a dirty-blond color, kept longer than what Carly considered normal for those in public service. But then, she thought, he’s not in public service. He’s a private businessman who was married to a public servant.
“The world lost a bright, bright light when Teresa left us.”
He broke down several times while he spoke. Carly was surprised by how touching the speech was. She pressed the center of her vest, the reassuring stiffness helping her keep her composure. She hated crying in public more than she hated funerals.
When the pastor spoke, Carly half listened, catching phrases here and there because they were phrases she’d heard from her mother and at her father’s funeral. She let her gaze roam, noting the reactions and postures of those who were considered important enough to be seated near the casket.
As the
pastor droned on, all Carly could think of was leaving. Adding to her discomfort was a loudly growling stomach. She’d skipped breakfast and now regretted that decision. She willed the pastor to hurry through the message.
* * *
Carly sagged in the patrol car on the way back to the station, wishing she hadn’t agreed to attend the reception. The funeral had sucked away her energy and left her with a pounding headache. She removed the clips that kept her hair off her collar and ran her fingers through her hair.
“Tired?” Nick asked.
“How about drained and wrung out? I hate funerals.” She almost canceled on the reception but bit her tongue before she voiced the thought. There will be food there, and maybe it will lift my mood.
“Maybe the reception and something to eat will make you feel better.” Nick read her mind, and Carly turned to look at him. He kept his eyes on the road.
He did that when we were married, knew what I was feeling and thinking.
He caught her looking at him, and she turned away to look out the window. What am I doing spending so much time with him?
“You okay?” He voiced the question as he turned into the PD lot.
“Yeah. I’ll meet you in the lot after I change, then follow you to the Hacienda.” She jumped out of the car as soon as it stopped and fled to the locker room. Her life was a roller coaster right now, and she had no clue how to get off.
The Hacienda, the city’s most famous historical landmark, was hosting the reception. Mayor Burke had helped a great deal with the hotel’s latest reconstruction. Her efforts helped turn the place into a very popular tourist attraction. Built in the twenties, the hotel had survived storms, hoodlums, earthquakes, and financial setbacks to develop into a high-class, exclusive resort. It was situated against the highest cliff in Las Playas, facing the coast. This design completely protected the view from the harbor area, which spread out from the other side of the cliff, northward.
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