“You sure this is the right thing to do?”
“Please don’t tell me you’re developing a conscience at this stage of the game, darling,” Tatiana replied.
“Please don’t be so dismissive of my feelings, Tee,” Susan said angrily.
Tatiana turned around, sitting back down, and looked at Susan.
“Believe me, I’m not,” Tatiana replied. “It’s just that I have never seen you so hesitant before. You’re always the one jumping at the chance to have some fun.”
“I know,” Susan said. “That is what is so strange. I just get this really bad feeling.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do, you don’t even have to ask that. If I didn’t trust you, Tee, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Then just go along with me on this one and you’ll be able to sleep at night without having to worry if she is going to come looking for you.”
Tatiana did have a point. This cop wasn’t like the rest of them; she actually had her shit together. If it had been old Chief Parker, she could have sat down on his porch, lit a joint and flipped him the bird before he’d ever come up with the answer to 1 + 1. As far as she was concerned, the cops in Penobscot came with two speeds: slow and reverse.
But this one was different, she was a thinker. Susan had managed to stay one step ahead, but just barely. She thought about how quickly the cop had tracked her down to the apartment in Yardley. She’d barely had enough time to write the letter and split before the cops came knocking on the door. And judging from the way she lit up that fucker in the Quick Mart, if she ever did end up in her crosshairs, it was unlikely that she would miss.
Susan surmised that she might remain safe, if she stayed out of state, but as long as she continued to pop back into town, she’d never be able to relax. Tatiana was right; it was time to clear up this loose end once and for all.
“Oh shit, change of plans,” Tatiana said, as she looked out the back window.
Susan turned around and saw what she was talking about. A light was now shining brightly inside the house. “Shit.”
The original plan was to wait until the middle of the night, when she would be asleep, then go in and quietly pop her. Clearly that wasn’t going to happen tonight.
“Now what do we do?” Susan asked.
“Now we move to Plan ‘B’,” Tatiana replied.
CHAPTER TEN
Maguire reached over and picked up the cell phone off the desk.
“Hey, angel, is everything alright?”
“Yeah, can’t a girl call her man?” Melody Anderson said.
“You can call me anytime you want, but I thought you were heading out to D.C. this morning.”
“We are, but we got delayed due to weather,” she said. “Kat is waiting for things to clear up over New Jersey before we head down. So we are probably looking at around noon.”
“Ah, so I’m your second choice.”
“Actually, you’re my third choice,” she replied, “but don’t take it personal.”
“Why, who came before me?”
“Peter Bates,” Melody replied.
“Peter Bates?” Maguire asked. “Alex’s Peter?”
“Yes, he called me and asked if I would relay a message to you to call him,” she said. “He said it was pretty important.”
“Did he give you a number?”
“Yeah,” Melody replied and read it off to him.
“He didn’t say what it was about?” Maguire asked.
“No, but I have a bad feeling if he is calling here that it involves Alex.”
“Yeah,” he replied. “I talked to her the other day.”
“Oh?” Melody asked. “Is there anything wrong?”
“No,” he said, “well, nothing that I thought was major. She was talking about having problems sleeping. She said she kept having this reoccurring nightmare about the little boy that was murdered up there.”
“Oh, God,” Melody replied, “that’s horrible. Do you think this is what it’s about?”
“Don’t know, could be,” Maguire said. “My fear is that things might have gotten bad and she fell off the wagon.”
“That won’t end well.”
“I’ll give him a call and see what the heck is going on.”
“Okay and please let me know,” Melody said.
“I will.”
“Love ya, cowboy.”
“Love you too, angel. Have a safe trip and call me when you guys land.”
“I will, bye.”
Maguire ended the call and dialed the number that Melody had given him. It rang a few times and then he heard Peter’s voice.
“Dr. Bates,” the man said.
“Peter, its James Maguire, how are you?”
“Commissioner,” the man said. “I am so sorry to bother you.”
“No problem, what’s going on?”
“Obviously this isn’t a professional call,” Peter said. “It’s about Alex.”
“I kind of figured as much, what’s the problem?”
“Have you heard the news?”
“No,” Maguire replied, “Is she alright?”
“There was a shooting here,” Peter explained. “Alex interrupted a robbery at one of the stores in town. She shot and killed the perpetrator.”
“When?”
“Monday,” Peter replied.
“Christ, I talked to her Monday morning. Is she okay?”
“I don’t know” he replied. “They placed her on leave and she’s not taking my calls. I went by the house, but there was no answer; although her car is still parked in the garage.”
“Don’t take it personal, Peter. Alex is rather complicated. Sometimes she needs space to sort things out.”
“I know,” he replied. “That’s why I reached out to you. You’re the only one she seems to listen to and I was hoping you could find out what is going on with her.”
“I’ll call and talk to her,” Maguire said. “When I know more I will let you know.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
Maguire hung up the phone and immediately dialed Alex’s number.
It rang several times and he assumed it was going to go to voicemail, when she answered.
“Let me guess, Peter called you?”
“You were in a shooting and you didn’t call me?” Maguire asked, his voice laced with anger. “What the hell, Alex?”
“Wow, good news travels fast,” she replied. “I’m alive, he isn’t, what’s the issue?”
Maguire’s jaw clenched tightly and he purposefully counted to ten before he responded. This was classic Alex. The worse the situation was the bigger and the more cold-hearted bitch she became.
“Do you want to tell me what happened or should I call the local news station and have them send me the video?”
“Not much to tell really,” she replied. “I walked in on a stickup; he pulled a gun and I shot him.”
“Is that why you were placed on leave?”
Now it was her turn to be quiet.
“Look, Alex, we can play this stupid game where you make me pry everything out of you or you can just shelve the tough-as-nails act and start talking to me.”
A tense silence gripped the phone line.
“I’m screwed royally, James.”
“Jesus, what happened?”
“The perp’s gun took a Brooklyn Bounce,” she said, swallowing hard. “They’re insinuating that I shot an unarmed kid, but I didn’t. I know what I saw.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Yeah, I tend not to joke about things that could end up getting me indicted, rookie.”
“Were there any witnesses?”
“Yeah, a bunch, but they’ve only been able to identify a few who were pretty much useless. One was an old woman who couldn’t see clearly and the other couldn’t even tell them what was going on, just that they heard a commotion and hid.”
“What about the rest?”
“In the wind,” Alex replied. “State cops are trying to track them down, but I’m not counting on it.”
“Video?”
“Apparently the video age hasn’t reached Penobscot yet.”
“Jesus Christ,” Maguire replied.
“Yeah, if I wasn’t so intimidated by the thought of God laughing hysterically, I might be inclined to pray right about now.”
“I’ll send Monsignor O’Connor up; he’ll get you straight with the big guy.”
“It may be too late for me, partner,” Alex replied. “You just might want to send up some lawyers, guns and money, cause it looks like the shit has hit the fan for little old me.”
“Tell me exactly what happened, Alex.”
“Honestly, I wasn’t sharp,” she said. “I walked in without looking; next thing I know I see these folks hugging the floor and the light bulb goes off. I drew my gun and heard a noise to my right. I went in that direction and saw movement. A hand came up with a gun and I fired. When I got to him I kicked the gun away and heard a noise in the back. Thought it was a second perp, but the back was empty. By the time I got back to the front the witnesses had fled and the gun was gone.”
“So one of the witnesses picked it up?”
“Or I just fucked up.”
“Did you?”
“I’ve been asking myself that question,” she replied. “Penobscot isn’t Brooklyn, James. I can’t imagine one of the church ladies getting all gangsta and snatching up a hot gat on their way out.”
“So you think you imagined it?” he asked. “Do you think the lack of sleep screwed up your head?”
“That’s just it, I don’t,” Alex replied. “I keep playing it out over and over in my mind. I can see the gun, hell I even remember feeling it under my foot when I kicked it away. There isn’t anything fuzzy about that.”
“I believe you,” Maguire said.
“You do?”
“I do.”
“Well, you might be the only one,” she said.
“Who’s running the investigation?”
“A captain from the state police,” Alex replied. “His name is Tom Blackshear.”
“You know him?”
“Yeah, he’s solid, but I also know he has a job to do.”
“I’ll reach out to him and let him know that if there is anything he needs that the NYPD will be happy to assist.”
“I appreciate that, James.”
“I’m also sending you up an attorney.”
“That’s not necessary; I don’t have anything to hide.”
“I don’t think you do,” Maguire replied, “but this isn’t about hiding anything. If they don’t come up with a witness who will put a gun in that kid’s hand, you’re gonna be screwed in a really bad way. You need someone to protect your rights.”
Silence held the line for a moment. “Look, I’m really scared.”
The admission struck Maguire hard; in part due to its simplicity and also because he couldn’t recall Alex ever admitting to being scared about anything.
“Don’t be,” he replied. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Alex had never once doubted him. She had trusted him with her life a countless number of times, but this time it was different.
“Just promise me you’ll send me a cake with a file in it,” she said.
“You’re not going anywhere that you’ll need a file, Alex” He replied. “Just do me a favor and call Peter, he’s worried about you.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I will, I just hadn’t felt like talking. I was trying to sort this shit out first.”
“You’re not alone,” Maguire said. “People care about you and you need to start opening up to them, not just me.”
“I know.”
“So call him and I will let you know more after I speak with Blackshear.”
“I will,” Alex replied, “and thanks again.”
“That’s what partners are for,” he said. “We’ll talk as soon as I know more.”
Maguire ended the call and hit a button on his desk phone.
“Yes, Commissioner?” Detective Amanda Massi said, when she answered the phone.
“Amanda, have Operations reach out to the New Hampshire State Police and get in contact with a Captain Tom Blackshear. I need to speak with him.”
“Yes, sir,” the woman replied.
He hung up the phone and pressed another series of numbers.
“Deputy Commissioner, Legal Matters, Officer Quintana speaking, how may I help you?”
“This is Commissioner Maguire; I need to speak to Deputy Commissioner Washington.”
“One moment, sir,” the cop replied, placing him on hold.
A moment later he heard the phone connect.
“Yes, Commissioner, what can I do for you?”
“I need some advice, Angie,” Maguire said.
“About what?” the woman asked.
“Regarding who the best criminal defense attorney there is for someone who is facing a potential homicide charge.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alex stared aimlessly out the bay window, clutching a cup of hot coffee in her hands, as she watched the waves breaking on the lake.
After her bout of late night cleaning, she’d taken refuge sitting on the couch. She had kept a silent vigil, watching as the night surrendered its hold to the day. Minute by minute the night sky turned from black, to deep blue and finally to brilliant streaks of pink and gold.
If only your mood could change as quickly, she thought.
Alex felt odd.
It was as if her mind and body were both rebelling against her. She felt sluggish and was having a hard time processing her thoughts. It was like she was pressing the gas pedal, but the car wouldn’t accelerate. She knew that right now the lack of sleep was her main issue, but with everything going on she just couldn’t bear the thought of having to deal with the dreams as well. Still, if she didn’t get some sleep soon, they’d be hauling her ass out in an ambulance.
Alex glanced over at the cell phone on the coffee table. She knew that James was right and that she should call Peter to let him know she was okay. Yes, it would be a lie, but it was an acceptable one. It wasn’t his fault that she was fucked up and he shouldn’t have to pay for it.
The problem was that he would want to try and help her, but he couldn’t. There was just too much baggage in her life and she didn’t have it in her to deal with it. Twenty years ago, maybe, but now, no. Besides, it wasn’t like it was going to change anything. She wasn’t going to get some magical, mystical do-over that would correct all the ills in her life. It wasn’t going to make her mother any less of a fucking bitch and it certainly wasn’t going to restore her career back with the NYPD.
Abby’s comment about seeing someone wasn’t the first time that she’d gotten that advice, but she had always found an excuse not to. The bottom line was that she just didn’t want to talk about it. Besides, the relief she had found in a bottle of whiskey was a helluva lot cheaper than a shrink.
Well, unless you factored in the problems that were caused by the whiskey bottle, she mused.
She picked up the cell phone and typed a message to Peter: I’m okay, just trying to come to terms with some stuff. I’ll call soon.
Alex questioned whether she was lying to herself or lying to him. He deserved better. He deserved a girlfriend who wasn’t so screwed up. Maybe that was just the way it would be. He wanted her, but she wanted Maguire, so neither of them would ever be happy.
“Screw it,” Alex said, as she got up from the couch.
She walked into the kitchen and set her coffee cup on the counter. Then she grabbed the keys for her car and headed toward the door.
She knew what she needed to do.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Blackshear read through the report then leaned over and picked up the desk phone.
“Hey, Scott, this is Tom Blackshear,” he said, when the call connected. “Just got some information I though
t you would want to know.”
“Anything good?” Nichols asked.
“Yes and no,” Blackshear said. “We came up with another witness, but it doesn’t really help Alex.”
“Who’d you find?”
Blackshear looked at the top of the report. “Say’s here the witness is a Deborah Booker, 43, of Penobscot.”
“What’s her story?” Nichols asked.
“She’s a history teacher over at the high school,” Blackshear explained. “She said she had stopped by the Quick Mart to pick-up dessert for the teacher’s luncheon.”
“Did she see anything?”
“Ms. Booker said that when she first walked into the store everything appeared to be fine. She saw a neighbor of hers, Eleanor Woods, who was one of the witnesses we previously spoke to and was chatting with her when they heard a loud commotion. She was about to look when an unknown man grabbed her and pulled her down to the ground. The man told her it was a robbery.”
“So what we have is another witness who didn’t see anything?”
“It appears that way, but at least we know that there was one other person who knew it was a robbery and might have seen something to corroborate Alex’s account.”
“The unknown male?”
“Yeah,” Blackshear said. “I’m going to reach out to the local news stations later today and see if they can run something on the evening news.”
“Why didn’t she stay at the scene?”
“She said she was afraid, so when everyone ran out she did as well and she just kept going. She figured since she hadn’t actually seen anything there was no reason to stick around. It wasn’t until she was talking to one of her colleagues over at the school that they told her she needed to contact the police.
“Unreal,” Nichols said with a laugh. “How fucking stupid can you possibly be that you don’t think you should go to the police with this information?”
Brooklyn Bounce Page 7
