Shadows May Fall

by Corcoran, Mell

  “Oh thank God!” Donald Miller sighed with relief. The deputy instructed him to put booties on his feet before he led him inside. “Thanks! Thanks a lot!”

  “Make sure we have the names and numbers for your friends that you’ll be with.” Lou demanded. “Your mobile number and where you’ll be staying in Oklahoma too.”

  Dillon blew out a breath and sat down at the bench as the deputy and husband-of-the-year disappeared into the house. “What a total ass hole!” He finally spoke as soon as the men were gone. “Can you believe this guy?”

  Lou shook her head as she sat down opposite her partner. “Duke was right. This is one for the books.” She scribbled a few notes into her pad then stuffed it into her back pocket. “How the hell did anyone marry him?”

  “They say love is blind.” Dillon jested.

  “Deaf and dumb in this instance as well.” Lou agreed. “Everything lining up with forensics?”

  “Yeah.” Dillon confirmed. “Straight up suicide. No signs of any foul play since she video taped her tearing the place up herself. The first deputies on scene already confirmed the husband’s alibi. He’s clear despite him being the cause of making her so bloody miserable that she went to such extreme.”

  Lou nodded in understanding. “I’d have shot him before I’d shoot myself.”

  Dillon chuckled. “You’d never have married such a schmuck.”

  “Good point.” She agreed as she got up from the bench. “I’ll tell Duke we’ll head over to the station here to write up our reports. That shouldn’t take long so we can get out of their hair and let them wrap this up. What a way to start the week.”

  “No kidding.” Dillon agreed and followed Lou back into the house.

  After going through the house and conferring with the responding deputies and forensics team, Lou and Dillon made their way back to the car. Lou took a short detour to give her thanks to Duke and suggest that no one tip the husband off that the County doesn’t offer cleaning services. In some small way, Lou felt like she was helping Kathy Miller with her final flip of the bird. Twisted as it was, it made Lou smile.

  Maximilian Augustus Julian stood at the edge of the ridge looking out over the Valley. He watched the morning traffic slug along down highway 27 as it threaded south through the valley. The 118 freeway had started picking up pace, looking much less like a parking lot. It wasn’t a quiet location, but it had strategic advantages. The six foot, five-inch man stood pondering his options. Dressed more like one of his shabby-chic lieutenants than his usual bespoke self. Max dragged his fingers through his glossy sable hair and weighed the pros and cons of the two pieces of property he had looked at that morning. The twenty-two acre parcel he was now considering rested just off the southern flank of the private estates he would be calling home. More importantly, it was also adjacent to the McAllister estate, where she called home. That buildable land was at a premium in Los Angeles, specifically the San Fernando Valley, made finding sufficient property for Aegis International a little tricky. He could have had Frank look further east, but that spread everyone out more than he wanted. Further than he wanted to be from her. Max couldn’t tell anyone that, though he suspected most of his people already knew far more than he cared to admit, even to himself. His earlier choice was less than half a mile away but also less acreage and on the opposite side of the freeway. He smiled to himself, noting it overlooked the location where he first learned the woman that had set him on his heels was also the detective that was proving to be a bit of trouble for him and his people. All that seemed so long ago now, even in the scheme of his timetable. It had only been a few months but so much had changed. No doubt more change was coming.

  “So what do you think?” Francis Sullivan’s voice rang out above the din of traffic. “The noise won’t be an issue since we soundproof.” Frank was Max’s right-hand man. He was family, the son he never had. Max trusted Frank with his life and had for many years. “We can put a terrace on the back side, away from the noise.”

  “It’s a solid vantage point.” Max said as he turned to meet Frank’s gaze. “Is it better, or are we pushing it having things this tight?”

  “We are less visible here than we would be down the hill.” Frank laid out the pro’s and cons of one parcel versus the other. “In case of emergency, I mean, if ya had to hoof it, this one is ideal.” Frank thought a moment before he made the most important point. “It’s also smart if we need to get Lou to safety in a hurry.”

  Max eyed Frank for a moment, then grinned. “Am I becoming that transparent?”

  Frank was quick to answer. “Not at all! I’m just considering how I would want things. How I do want things. She’s important to us all, Max. We all think of her as family now.”

  Max nodded and walked to the northern edge of the property. In the distance he could see the construction continuing on his new home and the expanse of park he had created for his new neighbors, but mostly for her. He looked eastward and could see the southern border of the McAllister compound and in the distance, the mansion itself. It was silly, all things considered. Lou was such a strong and capable cop and had been long before he came into the picture. Despite her petite frame, and her propensity for self-injury, Lou didn’t need him to watch over her. Hell, she didn’t even know how he felt about her. Sure they had their moments, danced around the issue, but she didn’t truly know how he felt about her. There was far too much for them to get through first. Far too much at stake for him to let his personal feelings about her cloud their focus. Above all, he didn’t want to overwhelm her. She had been through too much over the past months. Too much because of him and his people. He couldn’t risk losing her by adding his feelings for her to the situation. Perhaps one day.

  “Is it too close, though?” He asked again.

  Frank shook his head. “It’s much tighter in D.C. It’s an optical illusion here because the whole place is sprawled out. Hell, the Valley is what, four times as big as D.C.? Most of us walked from home to Base. No one walks here, everything is too far apart. I bet if we measured distance from Base to home back east, then measured here, it’s about the same. Maybe even less.” Frank referenced their earlier accommodations. For decades they were cloaked under the guise of a law firm in Georgetown, the oldest and most respected in the District. That is until Max’s hunt for their rogue made it necessary to head west.

  “Have the others take a look, make a choice and let me know by tonight.” Max instructed as he turned to leave. “I want this wrapped up before we head to Vegas. I want a draft plan to work from by the time we get back.”

  “As you wish, my Dominor.” Frank pulled his phone from his pocket and made the calls.

  Two hours later, and after a change into proper attire, Max walked through the doors of the new West Coast offices of Julian and Associates. The West Hollywood building had been home to an old bookstore for over forty years. After falling on hard times, the landlord was forced to sell and Frank acquired the building in record time. After two months the place was already up and running like a Swiss watch.

  “Mr. Julian...” A sharply dressed young man sprinted towards them. “It’s an honor to finally meet you. I’m...”

  “Jonathan Morland, yes I know.” Max cut him off and shook the eager man’s hand. “I’m sorry it’s taken this long for me to get here in person.”

  “Not at all, sir! You are an extremely busy man, we understand completely.” Jonathan Morland was a bright and shiny thirty-four year old Harvard Law graduate who had been dubbed as one of the rising stars in entertainment law by Forbes Magazine. Abby had recruited him for senior staff at the West Coast office and Max had been impressed with his work thus far. “Can I give you the nickel tour? I know everyone is excited to meet you.”

  “That’s why I am here.” Max smiled and noted the buzzing in the building had toned down considerably and all eyes strained to get a look at him. “Lead the way.”

  For the next
hour Max and Frank were escorted through the sleek offices that looked like they were peeled straight off the pages of Modern Magazine. Soft slate blues, whites, gleaming steel and glass filled the expanse which made the facilities feel more like an art gallery than a law firm. It was a sharp contrast to the offices in D.C. which were traditional oxblood leather and dark wood. The men were introduced to more bright and shiny legal professionals, all with eager smiles and awe-struck gazes as they took in the presence of their benefactor. Max was many things, most of which were unknown to the uninitiated. His public persona had been carefully honed to show only a brilliant legal mind and international business mogul that held court with the most influential people in the free world. The fervid new staff’s awe was in no way misplaced. To work for Maximilian Julian in any way, shape or form was a privilege that most never took lightly. Unfortunately some people had forgotten that privilege recently, and abused it to their own demise. The primary reason for Max and his people moving to the West Coast.

  After the meet-and-greet with the lesser echelon of Julian and Associates West, Jonathan lead them to the main conference room. The senior associates were waiting patiently for their introduction to their Commander-in-Chief. The six perfectly manicured men and women stood waiting at either side of the massive glass and steel conference table. Four women, two men, all looked to be mid to late thirties in age. Max new each one of them at a glance as well as their life histories since birth. Jonathan worked from clockwise introducing them before they all took a seat.

  “As I said to Jonathan earlier, I apologize for not making my way here to meet you all in person much sooner.” Max spoke quietly and met each of the young associates gazes as he spoke. “You should consider this a compliment! While it would have been reasonable for me to transplant some of my senior staff here from Washington, Ms. LaRue hand picked each of you to be the foundation of this endeavor. I am pleased that her faith in all of you was not misplaced. Your exemplary work has made my presence unnecessary for the most part. That is not to say that I have not kept a very close eye on each of you over the past months. I have simply been content to the manner in which things have progressed and not seen any need to put undue pressure on an already intense situation.” Max paused to take a sip of the sparkling water that was placed before him. “As Ms. LaRue and Mr. Sullivan have previously informed you, I will continue to receive daily briefings of all your cases and projects. However, my primary focus must be on Aegis International’s expansion here. Some of you have been handling the legalities of that and a few of our other ventures. I will continue to expect the same level of performance as we go forward.” Max turned his eyes to the three associates that were involved with the logistics of Aegis International. Aegis was the ancient name for the body that comprised his lieutenants, but it was also Max’s global securities agency. It gave him all the cover he needed for their involvement across the globe. That and his numerous other international companies and ventures all provided him with not only an exorbitant net worth, but ease of access to conduct Sanguinostri business without raising any eyebrows. It was both enterprise and empire on an epic scale. “Now, are there questions?”

  There were the usual inquiries about expectations, deadlines and a few security concerns. Other than that, the Q and A part of the meet-and-greet had gone exactly as expected, save for one odd question.

  “What is the policy on celebrations?” The brunette young lady known as Kelly March asked rather matter of fact.

  “Pardon?” Max was not sure what she was asking.

  “If I may be blunt...” She took a solid breath before continuing. “Are we a politically correct, neutral, do not offend environment? Or are we allowed to congratulate, celebrate, an all-inclusive nonexclusive establishment?”

  Max still was not clear on what exactly she was asking. “Can you be a bit more precise with your question, Miss March?”

  The young woman nodded, knowing she was not making her point as she intended. “Hollywood, Los Angeles, Hell California as a whole is notoriously liberal politically. People have been blackballed for even sneezing to the right. Must the staff of this firm be held to that same expectation? Or are we allowed to say Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and Namaste without fear of retribution for offending anyone?” She glanced quickly at her associates to see if anyone disapproved of her inquiry.

  “Well, that is a new and rather refreshing question. I am rarely surprised anymore. Thank you Miss March.” He nodded his approval. “As politics goes, I am a strict Constitutionalists, as I know many of you are. Perhaps not publicly. I am also a Traditionalist. Those are principals that Julian and Associates was founded upon and I will not cow-tow to political correctness. Nor will I allow any employee to be held hostage by political correctness. Is that a sufficient enough answer for you, Miss March?”

  “I think so.” She pondered a moment. “So we are allowed to have Ugly Christmas Sweater Fridays in December? Kwanza Karaoke? A Holiday party and company Fourth of July Barbecue?”

  “Absolutely.” Max grinned at her. “I can guarantee Ms. LaRue will want to be involved in any party planning. But I do expect an invitation, understood?” There was a shared sigh of relief throughout the room.

  “That goes without saying, Mr. Julian.” The woman smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Not at all. I had no idea that was such a serious subject that needed clarification! Now, anything else?” He scanned the faces. “Well then, I must excuse myself. A tyrant’s work is never done.” The room erupted in laughter at his self deprecating jest. Max was anything but a tyrant.

  After saying his farewells, Max and Frank left Julian and Associates West approximately two and a half hours after they had arrived. It was a long overdue and productive visit but it was time to get back to the his real work.

  It was after two by the time Lou and Dillon wrapped up their end of the Miller case and were back on the road. Making the trek to Homicide Bureau wasn’t reasonable given the traffic they would hit so after checking in with Vinny, Lou’s former partner, now her superior, they were headed home. Though it was highly inappropriate, they spent the first ten miles discussing the widower Donald Miller and his level of moronicism. By the time they hit the descent into the valley, they had moved on and were both singing the chorus to “Sweet Home Alabama” at the top of their lungs. Vinny would have loved to have seen that. After a few short weeks, Lou and Dillon’s new partnership had exceeded all expectations. They worked seamlessly together and their personalities had meshed almost from the get go. Lou was not the easiest person to partner up with and selecting his replacement had been a nightmare for Vinny. Lou required special attention with her sleep disorder, her brutish tenacity and, well, she was family to Vinny. Family reigned above all to him. Dillon had gotten the spot on his own merits and it wasn’t until after Vinny had made the official announcement that Dillon secretly informed Lou that he was also part of her new world. No one but Abbey had known about that. It was critical to Dillon that he get the job based on his abilities, without any influence. Amazingly, it had all worked out beautifully and the two homicide detectives were behaving more like brother and sister than work partners. Suddenly a jarring buzz echoed through the vehicle, bringing Lou’s dashboard drum solo to an abrupt halt.

  “That’s yours.” Dillon stated as he turned down the music.

  Lou looked at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. “What’s me? I didn’t do that!”

  Dillon chuckled and shook his head. “Your phone! That is your phone ringing. Do you want me to answer it?”

  “What the hell?” Lou rifled through her pockets as the obnoxious buzz sounded again.

  “Geez, hang on...” Dillon pressed a button on his steering wheel. “Detective Donovan’s phone, you’re on speaker.”

  “Dillon?” A woman’s honey toned voice asked, her slight southern drawl reverberating through the SUV.

  “Yeah, Caroline.” Dillon grinned. “I
t’s me. I paired Lou’s phone with my car.”

  “When the hell did you pair my phone?” Lou asked, still unable to find her phone. “How can you have my phone and your phone?”

  Dillon snorted as he glanced over to watch Lou digging under the car seat. “Man, you are a clone of Vinny right now. That is a total Vinny question.”

  “Oh! Low blow Newbie!” Caroline scolded through the speakers, only half serious.

  “Watch it!” Lou wagged her finger at him. “I am still your superior and I can have Vinny knock you down to desk assignment if I tell him you called him a technotard!”

  “I did not call him that!” Dillon protested. “You called him that! Yesterday! To his face!”

  “Yes!” Lou and Caroline both giggled. “But he’s since looked it up and he will be pissed instead of confused this time”

  “You two are killin’ me!” Caroline was laughing now. “Where are you, anyway?”

  “We are headed back from Santa Clarita, exiting the freeway now.” Dillon informed her as he merged to make the exit.

  “You on your way back to the Bureau?” She asked them.

  “No. We cleared it with the boss. It would take too long to get back and there’s nothing going on so we are headed home. Ha!” Lou exclaimed, holding her cell phone in the air with triumph after finally locating it.

  “Ha?” Caroline didn’t understand.

  “She found her phone.” Dillon explained.

  “Good thing you had her phone paired then.” Caroline snickering and Lou could hear the smugness oozing through the speakers.

  “What did you call for, smarty pants?” Lou asked as she secured her phone in her front jacket pocket.

  “Oh yeah!” Caroline giggled again. “I called to tell you I need a rain check on tonight. They’re rolling in a triple homicide from that gang shooting in Sunland this morning.” Her giggle turned to a grumble. “I’m gonna be stuck here until late. The A.D.A. wants all the slugs to ballistics before the morning.”