by Fox, Stephen
“Did she seem okay? I mean did she seem to be coming down with anything? A runny nose? A cough?”
“Nah, she seemed in great health for a middle-aged blood-sucking elfette. Besides I thought that part of their power was that they never get sick.” Hamilton looked at his partner and back at Underwood with eyebrows raised. “Anything you want to share with us?”
The Captain shook his head and his finger started playing a tune. “Not unless it works. And if it does work, you’ll know it without my having to tell you.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Time will tell. Anything else new on the senator? More importantly, anything new on her buddy with the shotgun?”
Hurst scowled. “Nothing. We had the photos printed and run through the computer, but came up with zilch. We also lifted a couple of prints from the senator’s car. Same result. The guy apparently does not exist. No driver’s license or fingerprints on file anywhere. Either he’s an illegal in this country, or someone has done some file editing somewhere. With this group, I wouldn’t put it past them. They seem to have tendrils everywhere.”
Hamilton looked at his partner with exaggerated awe on his face. “Tendrils? Tendrils? I’m working with a man who uses words like tendrils? How can I take him into polite company?”
Underwood smiled for the first time in days. “Get your butts out of here so I can get back to work. How am I supposed to do paperwork with a smile on my face? Someone might mistake me for the mayor.”
Hamilton was still talking as they walked through the corridor. “Yeah, he’d probably go up to the mayor and grab him by the tendrils. Boy would that be a sight. The mayor’s tendrils hanging out for all the world to see. Man, wouldn’t I’d love to see him …”
Captain Underwood shook his head. Hamilton played the dumb cop so well, it was easy to forget he had a doctorate from Georgia Tech. His conviction rate was one of the highest in the state, partly because he played the dumb redneck hick part so well, but mostly because he had a knack for putting the pieces together. The captain got back to work.
The day drifted along with lots of routine annoyances interspersed with more serious matters but nothing out of the ordinary for a police station. Sargent Kerne brought in a limping man with one arm in a sling and bandages cover most of his nose and face. The man had been a suspect in a series of purse snatchings around the mall. His system of lightning quick snatches and changing his shirt as quickly as possible had worked to perfection so far. This time it seemed he was loitering around the back door of the mall as an elderly woman came out of Belks. As the little old lady neared him, he turned to her, grabbed her purse and spun around to make his getaway. Unfortunately his system caused him to forget one small item - his stupidity. As he turned to flee he took one step and smashed face first into a light pole that he hadn’t noticed. His other injuries were incurred as the little old lady proceeded to stomp the stuffing out of the unconscious man and beat him with her umbrella. Mall security had to pull her off, as other bystanders stood by and laughed.
Most of the matters didn’t require the captain’s intervention, so he was able to make quite a dent in the paperwork, but he knew the pile would be just as high the next day. He looked down at his watch and discovered it was already six o’clock. Suddenly he realized he had promised to meet his ex-wife for dinner. Another glance at his watch told him he still had time to get there if he hurried. A quick stop at the dispatcher’s desk to give her a phone number where he could be reached, and he was down the elevator and out to the parking lot.
A typically hot, humid evening in summertime Savannah, the parking lot sweltered with the heat. Underwood moved quickly toward his car and the air conditioned relief it promised. A glint of light from the roof across the street failed to register, but when it seemed to shift position, an alarm went off in his head. He dropped to a crouch, just as the windshield behind him erupted in a shower of glass. Two more shots slammed into the body of the car as the Captain flattened himself behind the vehicle.
Uniformed officers began exploding out the doors, guns readied, with all eyes searching for the shooter. Underwood pointed toward the spot where the flash of light had come, and officers moved cautiously in that direction.
A few minutes later, with no more shots fired, officers reached the roof and signaled that it was empty. Lieutenant Morris ran up as Underwood got to his feet, “Captain, Bradley and Waters were the first on the roof. They report that they found the rifle and two expended shells, but no sign of the shooter.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Underwood calmly walked the two spaces to his car, brushing off his clothes as he walked. Unlocking the car, he reached in and got his phone to call his secretary, “Martha, have my wife paged at the number I just gave you. Apologize for me and say I was detained. Ask her if we can do it tomorrow night. She’s used to it. She has probably been expecting some excuse anyway.”
An hour later, Captain Underwood pulled into the GRIL parking lot. Walking to Marie’s lab, he found her bending over a microscope, examining a fiber sample that was evidence in a coed strangling at East Georgia University. She looked up and smiled as he neared. “Jim, it’s so nice to see you.”
“Are you feeling any better?”
“Much better, thank you. I know there was nothing I could have done or would have done differently, but the guilt lingers anyway. You understand about lingering guilt, don’t you?”
Underwood thought about his ex-wife and the innumerable nights she spent waiting for him to show up and didn’t, like lunch today. “Absolutely. It sticks to you like glue.” The guilt stayed with him even now, but a policeman’s job was important and had to come first. He knew he wouldn’t have changed it even if he could. A policeman who doesn’t put the job first is a policeman who isn’t there when you need him.
She took his hand. “You look exhausted. Have you had dinner?”
“Well, no. I was supposed to, but something came up.” He didn’t want to go into details.
Marie nodded. “I know. Me too. Always the job. Well, I have the same excuse, but today we’re going to ignore the job for an hour and eat a slow relaxing supper at the best place in town.”
He smiled. “Where are you taking me?”
Her big eyes got even bigger as she grinned. “Why, right here, Captain.” She walked over to the refrigerator in the corner and opened it. A large sheep’s head filled most of the interior. As she reached for it, Jim grimaced. His eyes widened as she pushed something in the ear and the head split in two to reveal a six pack of beer. Marie turned to him and smirked. “A legacy of my father. He loved to have a beer with his lunch, but knew the taxpayers would frown on finding his stash, so he had this made. Most people who open the fridge close it in a flash. He could put the Crown Jewels behind it and they would be safer than they are now. Even in our department, almost no one has ever realized it’s a fake.” She took two bottles out of the case, snapped the case back together, grabbed a bag from behind it and closed the refrigerator door.
Leading him to two stools at her lab table, she opened the bag to reveal fried chicken and biscuits. “I usually keep some food in here, because I never know when I’m going to need to spend an all-nighter over some case or another.” Her eyes twinkled. “You know how those policemen are when they want results. They want them yesterday, if not sooner.”
He smiled back. “Yeah, I know how those policemen are, but it’s usually because the mayor and the victims want justice yesterday, if not sooner. Although I agree that the police department could sometimes be more gracious for the wonderful work that your agency does to help us.”
He turned serious. “But that’s not what I came here to say. There’s a group of people out there that are trying to remove anything and anybody that can prove that the Chosen exist. You and I are the last two people left that have seen the interview with Patrick, and you helped your father with the autopsy. They’ve tried several times to kill me. I’m afraid you might be next.”
She turned her beautiful e
merald eyes toward him. “I promise to be careful.”
“I want to assign an officer to stay with you, at least through this weekend.”
“Why? Is something going on this weekend?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll rest easier if you have someone keeping an eye on you.”
She reached out and put her hand on his. “I know you’re worried, but I’ll be fine. I’ll tell you what. Suppose I stay here over the weekend. Lord knows I was probably going to be here all weekend anyway. I’ve got to finish the Sampson case. You remember that case? Sampson is the guy whose story is that he was walking near the Oglethorpe Mall late at night when this masked guy confronted him and demanded his money. Sampson claims he killed the man in self-defense, but I found that the dead man couldn’t have tied the mask on the way he was found. The knot was inconsistent with the way someone would tie a knot behind their back. I’m trying to prove that it had to be tied from above as he was lying on the ground. Because the mask was made of satin, we are looking for latent prints. We have at least three prints now, but we haven’t had confirmation yet as to their identity. If we can link Sampson to any fingerprints on the mask, his claim of self-defense can’t possibly stand up in court.”
Underwood nodded. He remembered the case. The detective investigating the case had smelled a rat early on, but had no proof. He would be pleased to find out his instincts were still sound.
Marie continued. “Besides there are several other cases I need to catch up on. It’s not as if this is the first time I’ve been here days at a time. Why when Dad was here, we once …”
Her voice faltered and broke. Her father’s death was still too fresh in her mind to talk about him. Underwood reached over, gathered her into his arms and held her.
In a few minutes she calmed down and tried to compose herself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t let it get to me, but once in a while …”
“Don’t be silly! Your father and brother dead within days of each other. Anyone else would be flat on their back. I’m the one who should apologize. I haven’t had much time to check on you since your brother’s death. I’m truly amazed that you are doing so well most of the time.”
“I’m not doing that well. The guilt drives me crazy sometimes. They made me Acting Director yesterday, did you know that? I feel like one of those princes that assassinate their fathers to gain the throne.”
“You have no reason to think that. Your father’s death was a calamity, but they needed the best person they could find to take over for him. You were the logical choice. Your record speaks for itself in terms of the brilliant discoveries you have made in the last five years. Just off the top of my head, I can name six cases that we wouldn’t have solved without your expertise. And the fact that you know your father’s policies and his entire staff didn’t hurt your case either. Finally add the fact that virtually every person that works here individually called the mayor and requested that you be named and there was never any question of who would ‘ascend to the throne’ as you want to call it.”
With each tally, Marie’s head rose a little, and a smile began to grow. By the time he finished, she was positively beaming. “And how do you know all this, sir?”
A shrug of the shoulders. “Well, it seems the mayor called me the other day. He had been inundated with calls about you and wanted to end the interruptions by appointing you. However he wanted to get my approval first, since I am the head of the Police Department, and I might have to spend hours working with you on various cases.”
She snuggled deeper into his arms. “Hours?”
Underwood raised her head. “Hours and hours and hours.”
Marie gazed into his eyes and murmured. “I could get to like that.”
They stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Slowly their lips moved and joined in a shy tentative caress. The kiss became more passionate as their arms encircled each other.
When at last he pulled his head back, his hand came up to caress her cheek. A soft sigh escaped her lips and she murmured, “Hours and hours.”
His whisper came back. “A lifetime, I hope.”
This time they didn’t come up for air for a long time.
He didn’t leave the building until the next morning. Fortunately there was a shower in her lab. She loaned him one of her father’s shirts, from his cache. It was big, but would do, until he got a chance to go home and change. Most of the employees had extra clothes on hand. It was too easy to ruin clothing with all the various chemicals and corrosives they had to deal with.
Underwood drove to the station. Even on the weekends the work piled up. Crime never took a weekend off. Parking in his reserved space, he walked across the parking lot to the side entrance. All senses on alert, he scanned in all directions for any sign of a repeat of yesterday’s sniper attack. After what seemed like hours he passed through the door and headed for his office.
The day was a complete waste. The captain couldn’t keep his mind on his work. He read the Murphy file three times and still the words made no sense. With the trial just a week away, he knew he had to be prepared to go on the stand. But too many distractions kept his thoughts whirling in his head, and refused to slow down. An assassin stalked the city trying to kill him. The killer had already tried twice and missed. Unless they managed to catch up with him, sooner or later the man would succeed. The death toll was already at six. The fact that there was a race of murderous vampires out there in his city preying on human flesh certainly added to the situation. Then his involvement with Marie provided the crowning distraction of the day. The memory of holding her soft vibrant body, the smell of her long silky hair, the sensuous valley between her breasts. His finger worked overtime drawing its circles. Every moment of the previous night stood out and blocked other thoughts from registering.
The day crawled by. Every problem seemed tedious and unimportant - every person long winded and a bore. The shift finally ended at five and he drove home to change his clothes for his dinner date with his ex-wife. She had left a message that he would either meet with her tonight or he could meet with her attorney on Monday, no more excuses.
A quick shower and fresh clothes and he was on his way to the restaurant. He pulled into the parking lot only twenty minutes late. A Savannah landmark, the Pirate’s House enjoyed a fine reputation for many years.. He and Ellen had looked forward to eating there while they were married, dining in many of the small intimate rooms. In fact all seventeen anniversaries had been celebrated at this downtown establishment. Just a few miles from the Atlantic Ocean, the restaurant specialized in seafood of every description.
Dinner was a quiet affair. A little small talk before the food came but little conversation during the meal. And not even one caustic remark about his promptness, or lack of it.
“What’s wrong, Ellen?”
“What makes you think something is wrong?”
“I’m a cop, Ellen. I’m trained to make these kind of observations.”
She sneered. “Well if you were that good at observing when there’s something wrong, we would probably still be married.”
“Ah, that’s better. There’s that razor sharp tongue I’ve grown to expect.”
“Oh, stop it! I didn’t bring you out here to fight.” She shook her head in annoyance. “God knows, we did that enough in the last few years.”
“I’m sorry. The pressure to solve these killing is unbearable, but I have no right to take it out on you. Let’s start over. What’s on your mind, Ellen?”
Ellen started fidgeting with her napkin, trying to summon her courage. A few deep breaths and she finally blurted out, “I’m getting married, Jim.”
His fork clattered to the table. “What?”
Once begun, she continued without hesitation, “He’s a doctor, Jim. I’ve been seeing him for several months. He’s kind and considerate, and he pays attention to me. We’ve set the date for two weeks from tomorrow.”
His mind whirled. He had known that it was over between them, b
ut he couldn’t seem to break the last few bonds. Seventeen years of sharing their lives… No, that’s wrong. If he had shared more of his life with her, they wouldn’t be having this conversation.
Ellen grimaced. “Stop making those damn circles and talk to me, Jim.”
He put his left hand on top of his right to hold it still and managed to stammer out the words. “Hey, that’s wonderful. Ellen I’m so glad for you. If there’s anything I can do, …” The rest of the conversation was a blur as his brain put everything on automatic and tried to comprehend the information it had received. Somehow he managed to get through the small talk and pay the check, but he had no recollection of it. The next thing he knew he was in his car ready to pull out of the parking lot.
On the way home he tried to collect his thoughts. His wife was gone. They had been separated for two years, divorced for one. But even the final decree from the lawyers hadn’t hit him this hard. Ellen would now belong to another man.
As he drove things began to solidify. He knew this day would have to come. Ellen was a vibrant social person, and needed companionship - companionship that he had been unable to give her most of the seventeen years they were together. After a long shift in the precinct, he would come home and try to barricade himself from the world. He didn’t want to talk about his day - he wanted to forget that it ever happened. So he would withdraw. Ellen would try to draw him out but with little success. They never had children, so Ellen didn’t have that outlet for her social needs. And when she tried to tell him about her day, he would make the proper responses from time to time, but both of them knew it wasn’t important to him. She needed and deserved someone who would be there to listen to her, and be listened to by her.
The more he drove, the clearer his feeling became. He felt free. All this time he felt responsible for Ellen because he had treated their marriage so badly. But now she had found someone else, and she was happy, for the first time in so many years. And the more he thought about it, the happier he became. The guilt he had been dragging around for years was gone - well, not gone but certainly no longer the anchor holding him back. He could return Marie’s love with no more hesitation - no more doubts. He was free.
