Thrown Adrift

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Thrown Adrift Page 3

by Combs, Sasha


  When she finally parked her car in the lot at the station, she walked inside to find the latest rabble rousers being processed at the front desk. The disgruntled partygoers were slurring profanities and when she passed one of the men; he hurled several cat-cries at her just before the police officer who’d been trying to process him, raised his voice telling the intoxicated man to shut his mouth.

  Passing the front desk and making her way towards the detectives offices; Linda wasn’t surprised to find that the area where she worked was as deserted as the Mojave Desert. She halfheartedly had expected some of the detectives who had wanted the triple-time, to have come in to work tonight...then she reminded herself; if they had reported to work, she wouldn’t have been assigned to take the lead in the high profile case. She knew in her department, most of the detectives attending the party were technically on call. Even though the on call pay wasn’t the greatest; given their choices, it appeared that going to the party won out over reporting in to work on the night shift.

  Turning on her computer, Linda pulled up her address directory to scroll through a list of phone numbers belonging to judges. She narrowed in on the officials that she knew would assist her in getting a warrant. While the coastguard had been attempting to fish out the body from the river; one of the men on the boat had recognized the dead woman from pictures he often times would see in the society section of the newspaper. Linda had been hoping the coastguards quick glimpse had been wrong. But after running into Hayford, then receiving a call while in route to the station; it became clear to her that the coastguards assumption had been right. Linda knew she’d have to move fast to gain entry into the young woman’s apartment. She didn’t want anyone else who might have a key rummaging through a place that might turn out to be a potential crime scene.

  Starting with the judges she personally knew; Linda began placing her calls. One after the other, the telephones rang and no one answered. She knew it was a holiday but she didn’t expect all the judges on her list to be out on the town at party’s or worse...not in town at all. She had left messages on voicemails. Linda had talked to babysitters and house staff; giving information that would instruct the judges on how they could phone her back. She hated that she’d not had the time to update her telephone files by adding cellular phone numbers to all of her contacts. In the past, before she became a detective; Linda had no reason to contact any of the judges she had befriended. It had been her father who had made the contacts for Linda to forgo the standard route most of the detectives took to get their gold badges. She knew they disliked her and each day she came into work she could feel the animosity as she worked within her small cubicle. Linda had never walked a beat and she didn’t attend the academy like all the other detectives had when they’d first been hired as police officers. Her legal expertise had been the reason she didn’t take the same route to become a detective and this had also been the reason none of her fellow brethren had done anything to help make her job any easier.

  Placing her two forefingers together to form a steeple; Linda’s eyes glazed over as she looked at the list of judges who she had not been able to contact. Even as she tried to dismiss the important of this task, Linda couldn’t move forward, pretending that this didn’t mattered. She knew if she were the district attorney, she would want the detectives assigned to solve this case to gain entry inside of the apartment. If she had to go to trial, stating her case in front of a judge or a jury; she would want to know what the inside of the victims apartment looked like before anyone else went inside. Elizabeth Van Wilson was one of the cities most celebrated socialite party girls. She had been photographed with celebrities from the film industry, musicians, professional athletes and a few politician who had not wisely used discretion. Her father, Reynolds Van Wilson owned one of the largest publishing houses in the industry. His rivals were many, which is the reason Elizabeth’s antics usually ended up on the front pages of most of his competitors newspapers or magazines.

  Even though the coroner had viewed the body at the crime scene; she knew she had only a few hours to work with before the family would be notified to identify Elizabeth’s body. She also knew that Gregory wouldn’t oblige her by stalling. For his own reasons, he would want to complete his autopsy without delay. The night was a holiday and he was already upset because he’d not been invited to the party of the year. Plus, he would want to gain kudos for notifying the Van Wilson’s family in a timely manner. In any event, none of his reasons would benefit Linda because currently, time was not her best friend.

  Tapping her fingers on her desk; Linda swiveled her chair around to her cubicles opening to eye the computer belonging to one of the departments most senior detectives. Detective Mike Smith had telephone numbers, email accounts and most any kind of information to get in contact with nearly anyone in the city that could help them perform their jobs. Usually it was the most senior detective who would share his coveted information with the newest member of the team. However the strings that had been pulled to make way for Linda to become a detective had not sat well with him. Like most of the other detectives; Mike was reserving his judgment until Linda proved herself worthy of the badge. She understood his reservation, but she didn’t like the snobbery that accompanied his convictions.

  As the walls of rejection threatened to pen her in, Linda toyed with the idea of using Mike’s computer to gain access to the cellular numbers of the judges she knew would assist her without question. Just as she was about to make her move, she came to a stop when she heard a familiar voice inside of the large room.

  “It’s getting late. Why aren’t you at Liz’s penthouse?”

  Linda stood to peer over the low wall that formed her cubicle. Hayford was sitting at the desk nearest the door and she was wondering at what point had he entered her department.

  Frowning, she glared at him and said...

  “How did you get pass the desk sergeant?”

  Hayford smiled while holding up crisply folded hundred dollar bills. Placing the bills back inside of his jacket, he stood to cross the room; joining Linda by sitting at the chair alongside of her desk.

  “Having trouble finding a sober judge to sign your search warrant?”

  Linda wanted to slap Hayford but she knew it would only result in a lawsuit or worse...another horrible article written by him about her.

  Turning off her computer...Linda reached underneath her desk for the search warrant she’d printed out after preparing it before she started making her phone calls. She had not counted on being defeated so early in the game and she most definitely had not counted on Hayford Mead bribing the desk sergeant to gain entry into her department.

  “Are you going to force me to kick you out of here...or do you want me to arrest you for illegally gaining entry into a secure building?”

  The hint of a slow easy smile twitched in the corners of his perfect mouth. When he felt he couldn’t resist any longer; Hayford relaxed his lips to allow the smile to freely form. He’d sat in this department numerous times in the past. Like most of the law enforcement departments, the detectives division was heavily weighed down by burly robust men. Linda was the only female working on her team and the only African American working her shift in her department. On more than one occasion when their paths had crossed in the past; she had entertained the idea of suing Hayford after he targeted her as his primary source when he’d been collecting information that would ultimately spell doom for her and her friends. The only reason she had dismissed the idea had been due to Hayford in an unguarded moment telling her that once she got over this rough patch she would do well as a prosecuting attorney. After passing her detectives exam...the waffling around doing minor assignments in the unsolved crimes division had proven to be beneath Linda’s obvious skills. Once she’d finally been assigned to the homicide division, Hayford had told her the men on her team were idiots for not recognizing her intellect because their lower half was focusing on her obvious beauty. What was up with that, she had thought to he
rself because as far as she was concerned, she and Hayford were by no stretch of the imagination friends. It had been nearly six months since he’d told her that. Linda had not understood his reasons then...and six months later his unsettling comment still perplexed her. Linda was a very attractive woman and she hated when men looked at her breast before their eyes traveled to see that she had a face as well. The men in her department demeaned her by focusing on her female attributes instead of her ability to work alongside of them to solve homicide cases. But she had to admit; Hayford never made her feel like eye candy but she knew like the other men, he was attracted to her.

  While she sat at her desk studying him, Linda had not dismissed the notion of kicking him out of her department but she also noticed, how unconcerned he looked. It was obvious that he didn’t fear there would be any consequences. She wondered where such arrogance originated. She’d never taken the time to learn much about him or his family. As she pursed her lips while looking at him, Hayford had begun scrolling through a list of numbers on his mobile phone. He spoke to her while he did this.

  “The city is hopping tonight. I’ll bet you can’t find one judge at home to sign your warrant. However, finding a judge wouldn’t be impossible but that would require you to crash one of the many private parties being hosted around the city. And if you don’t find a judge at one of those parties...you’re going to be shit out of luck.”

  Linda cringed at his crassness and she hated when people used foul language around her simply because she was a detective on the force. She could see the smirk tickling at his mouth and she knew he had said his comment because he had the power to unsettle her if he desired. Linda hated this...hated men who dismissed her and she especially hated when Hayford would confuse her by making her think that he cares, then with his next breath he would say something to make her want to slap him.

  Wanting Hayford gone, Linda said...

  “Hayford...I don’t need your sideline commentary to do my job. Now if you would please...”

  Linda had stood...extending her arm towards the door to her department. Hayford was still toying with his phone but the smirk earlier that had threatened to form a smile; now that gleam was gone. He seemed intent on completing his task and he’d not stopped what he was doing to look at her. When he was done, he passed his phone to Linda and she could hear from the ringing, that he had dialed a number. Curiosity had gotten the better of her so she said...

  “What are you doing Hayford?”

  Smiling at her he replied...

  “You need help Linda...and you’re here alone. The way I see this situation...if your department won’t help you, then I will.”

  Linda’s face wrinkled with questions. She didn’t know what he meant by help and she still didn’t trust him after what he’d done to her nearly two years ago. Linda still bore the emotional scars from the night she’d been open and honest with him. He had acted like a friend to her and since that night she hadn’t been so willing to forgive him...but over time she had.

  As his phone dangled in the air, a voice could be heard answering the phone. She still didn’t know what he was doing or who he had called; but Linda knew as a reporter and as a Mead...Hayford had more contacts then her entire department combined. Choosing to trust him; Linda took his cellular phone.

  “Hello...this is Detective Linda Gable from the Homicide Division.”

  After introducing herself, she didn’t know what else needed to be said. Hayford had just dialed a number then handed her his phone. She had to trust that he wasn’t hanging her out to dry by making a prank call. After what he’d done to her in his smear campaign...making her think they were just having a conversation while leaving out the part about him being a reporter working on a new story. She reasoned, after his reporters net had caught a fish who had done nothing wrong. Linda had to believe that Hayford owed her by doing something nice for a change.

  Her ears tuned in, nervously listening to the other end of the call.

  “Please hold on, I’ll get Judge Mead.”

  The voice on the other end had said, after hearing Linda’s greeting.

  Linda’s eyes went wide because she quickly summed up the equation that had formed in her head. ‘Mead’...that is what the voice on the other end had said. Hayford’s last name is Mead...she told herself. Now his strange action was beginning to make sense.

  Looking at him while covering up the voice piece on the phone, she said...

  “Who is this person to you Hayford?”

  Linda had a vague clue, but she couldn’t go on her assumptions. Not tonight. She needed facts...she needed the truth.

  Hayford frowned. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of this. He’d just wanted to help Linda because he knew she wouldn’t be getting any help tonight.

  “Uncle Ryan...or Judge Ryan Mead. He’s family...my dad’s brother.”

  Linda had a slew of other questions but she could hear the voice on the other end as he cleared his throat before talking into the phone. Quickly the call turned into business and when the call ended, she knew she’d be getting exactly what she wanted. The search warrant for Elizabeth Van Wilson’s penthouse.

  Grabbing everything that she knew she would need; Linda jetted towards her door with Hayford following closely behind her. As she passed the front desk, she noticed that the police had brought more arrest victims into the outer lobby. The sergeant that had taken Hayford’s bribe diverted his eyes in another direction; avoiding Linda as she hastily left the building. She knew what he’d done had been wrong but on the other hand; if the sergeant had not allowed Hayford to come into her department...Linda accepted that the outcome would have landed her dead in the water...no pun intended.

  Racing to her car, Linda looked over at Hayford’s car and she hated the city vehicles that stood out like sore thumbs. She was going to the Upper Eastside and she wanted to question as many people as she could tonight. Hayford’s brand new BMW gleamed its utter perfection; and she wished she could drive that vehicle because the people she needed to question would be more apt to talk to her if they saw her getting out of a vehicle like his.

  Opening the door to her sedan, Linda heard Hayford speaking from across the parking lot. He was leaning up against the drivers door, and if asked she would swear that his blue eyes were protectively cradling her. She leaned across her vehicle saying...

  “I’m sorry...did you say something?”

  The air had been filled with an array of noises so she wasn’t sure if he’d asked her a question or if he’d been simply bidding her a farewell.

  Hayford pushed off with one leg, coming to a standing position; then he strolled across the parking lot, where Linda stood next her car. When he embarked on this venture tonight, he knew beforehand that he would be crossing over countless lines that defined his professionalism. Yet, as each step took him closer to her, he knew he would do anything to help her solve this case...be it wrong or be it right.

  When he stood in front of her, admiring her understated look. As attractive women went; Linda was definitely way above average. Despite the dark colors, and her reserved hairdo; she still managed to hold his attention. As a rule, he rarely got involved with anyone connected to one of his stories but after meeting Linda, Hayford had been reexamining the wisdom in this.

  As the cold air formed cloudy vapors around her mouth and nose. Hayford chose to speak plainly because standing in the cold parking lot wasn’t the best place to hold a conversation.

  “Linda... My uncle doesn’t live to far from Elizabeth’s home. If you would allow me...I could drive you there in half the time.”

  Linda was ready to protest because Chief Billings would have a coronary if he knew she was riding around solving cases with the cities most infamous reporter. Riding with Hayford would be a No, No...but Linda really wished that she could.

  Looking at him she shook her head.

  “I can’t ride with you Hayford but if you don’t mind; I would like it if you lead me to your uncles
home. I’ve wasted enough time tonight and if my following behind you will get me there any faster than if I tried to find his home all by myself; then please. Lead away.”

  Linda could have sworn that Hayford’s demeanor morphed into a reaction she couldn’t quite discern. It had not been her intention to affect his mood, but she couldn’t be bothered with his emotions right now because performing her job proficiently was her primary guiding force. Looking at him she said...

 

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