by Jamie Hill
"But better for Mel," Nate mused.
"True. So set me straight. Why are you really still here, Willis? I know your chief expected you yesterday."
"I think I mentioned that I talked to my chief, and was given permission to stay a few days longer." Nate cleared his throat. "For, uh, personal reasons."
Reeder's eyes narrowed. "Seems to me your interest in this case is what's personal. Like for instance, you might be trying to draw suspicion away from yourself and on to someone in my department." He flexed his fingers against each other. "You see, I don't know you, Willis. But I do know my officers. I find it very hard to believe that any one of them could be paid off to free such a heinous criminal."
Nate stood and closed the office door, then turned to face Reeder. "I understand that you don't know me. I get that. I'm going to lay myself on the line here because I asked Mel this morning who she trusted in this department. Not trusted to buy her lunch and bring back the correct change. I'm talking serious trust. And yours was one of the three names she gave me."
The captain's eyes conveyed surprise for a moment then he seemed to catch himself and nodded. "Go on."
"Mel had no qualms about you, Stone or Brady Marshall. Other than that, she wasn't so sure. The CSI guys are top of my list right now."
Reeder waved a hand. "That's old news. Martin's in the wind. No one's heard from him for going on twenty hours now. By the looks of his apartment, he packed in a hurry and took off. Whoever got to him must have paid cash."
Nate blinked in disbelief. "If you know that, then why is Mel still under suspicion?"
The man seemed to weigh how much he wanted to disclose, but finally gave in. "Because Martin can barely tie his shoelaces without instructions. Despite all Martin's swagger and false bravado, Zybowski was the brains of that team. And right now, Joseph Zybowski is sweating bullets in the IA interrogation room."
Nate's mind raced processing the information. "Maybe Martin wasn't as dumb as he let on. I mean, how could he hold down such a technical position if he wasn't smart?"
"He's smart enough, but he's no leader. Zybowski called the shots and everyone knew it."
"So what makes you think Zybowski is so innocent? Maybe he's just a better liar, and can handle the pressure where Martin couldn't. If I had to I could fake some sweat and tears."
Reeder smiled for the first time. "I'll remember that. I watched part of Joe's questioning. He looks like hell, man. He doesn't know what the fuck is going on. I truly believe that."
Nate dropped into his chair. "So we're back to square one. Who did Webb get to? I suspect the bank account business was just to cast suspicion on Mel. I'm sure Webb paid the real culprits in cash."
"Stone's got too much integrity to pull a stunt like that. Becker? She's another one with the means but probably not the ability. She's a good kid, but she's green. Thinks a lot of Curtis. Tries to emulate her right down to the ponytail. I can't see her pulling it off."
"But we can't rule her out," Nate said.
Reeder shrugged. "I might not rule out Marshall. He's got those new twins at home. A nice lump sum might look good to a guy in his position."
Nate didn't feel that in his gut, and shook his head. "I don't like Marshall for this. There has to be someone else with the means, the opportunity and the wherewithal to back it up. I don't know the others in your department. I'd like to get Stone's assessment if you're going to allow me to help with the case."
"There isn't a case, Willis. It's an IA matter now. Curtis is suspended until her hearing. I was told, officially, there isn't anything more we can do."
"Officially," Nate repeated. "The thing is, I'm not really here officially."
"So." Reeder stood and went to his door. "If you were to keep a low profile, I could probably let you hang out with Stone in the small conference room." He opened the door. "Unofficially."
Nate stood and smiled. He extended his hand and they shook. "You'll never know I was here."
He went straight to the smaller war room and closed the door. Nate took a seat and scribbled notes on a pad. When Stone entered and stood in the doorway he glanced up. "Shut the door, will you please?"
Stone obliged and sat across from him. "Hush hush stuff, huh?"
"On the record there's no investigation into Mel's case. Mel doesn't even have a case. You and I have to get busy on this thing."
"Should I get Becker?" Stone made a move to stand.
Nate waved his hands. "No, let's keep this just between us."
Stone's expression clouded. "Wouldn't more people be beneficial?"
Leaning forward, Nate lowered his voice. "We're flying under the radar here, Henry. The less people we involve, the fewer undies gonna be run up the flagpole, if you get my meaning."
Stone smiled. "We're going against orders, I get you. No need to get anyone else involved."
Nate sat up and patted a hand on the table. "There's another, more sensitive issue. Someone set Mel up. We know that to be true. IA isn't as convinced. As far as they're concerned, they have their scapegoat. No need to look for anyone else."
"Meanwhile, a corrupt cop goes free while Mel could lose her job."
"We're not going to let that happen. I'm calling Brady Marshall to see if he can work the Sheila angle. Someone got to her, too, and we need to figure that out."
"What do you want me to do?"
Nate smiled. "I'm glad you asked. You're going to figure out who had the means and motive to sell Mel down the river."
Stone's brow furrowed. "Someone in our department?"
"Maybe, or somebody from another area. I'm thinking about that Tanner fellow who hit on Mel at Morgan's last week. You said he works in Admin? He might have the means. Mel embarrassed him. Does that give him a motive?"
"Tanner? No! I can't believe—"
"Henry." Nate touched his arm. "I need you to look at everyone. Keep an open mind. You're convinced Mel didn't do this, right?"
Stone nodded.
"Somebody did it. If not Mel, then who? We've got very little time to find out. IA is rushing Mel's hearing because they want a resolution before the media gets wind of this. But once that hearing happens, it's going to be twice as hard to reverse their findings. We need to get this right, and the time is now."
Stone rose, a look of renewed determination on his face. "I understand." He walked out, closing the door behind him.
Satisfied the detective would do all he could, Nate picked up the phone and dialed.
"Marshall."
"It's Willis. I need your help."
"Hey. I hear the brass put the kibosh on helping Mel. I was specifically instructed to stay out of it."
Disappointment flooded through Nate. "Oh."
"So what do you want me to do?"
Nate could almost see the twinkle in Marshall's eye. He breathed a sigh of relief. "We need to get a handle on Sheila. Mel said when they brought her to the station her story had taken a complete one-eighty. Something about Webb hiring her for the night and them having consensual sex, which is bullshit. She looked terrified when we untied her."
"She definitely was. I stayed with her for a while at the hospital, made sure she was taken care of and given some clean clothes. When I left there was a uniform at the door. He was going to take her to the station when they cut her loose."
"Can you follow up on that? See if she had any visitors, that sort of thing? And for God's sake, find Sheila. She's gone underground. I know she's scared, but ducking out is a crummy thing to do to her three favorite people in the whole world."
Marshall chuckled. "I'll be in touch."
"Thanks." Nate hung up, thoughts still racing through his mind. He fully believed what he told Stone about time being of the essence. IA didn't seem interested in clearing Mel's name. Once they'd completed their investigation and held a hearing, she was totally at their mercy. In other words, as good as gone.
* * * *
Mel wandered through her empty house, at loose ends. She wanted t
o call Nate but knew he couldn't get anything done with her bothering him. When her doorbell rang she jumped, then hurried to answer it, happy for the distraction.
She hesitated. What if the media learned my name? Mel peered out the peephole. Her father stood on the porch, hands full with two cups of coffee and a brown paper bag.
She opened the door. "Hey! What are you doing here?"
"Where should I be?" He pushed past her and stepped in. "I bought ice cream then I realized it's ten-thirty in the morning. Your mother wouldn't have approved. So I stopped for lattes."
"Yum to both." Mel took the bag and looked inside. "Mom would have approved of Rocky Road, don't fool yourself." She and both parents had spent many hours celebrating and commiserating life events over containers of Rocky Road ice cream.
She carried the bag to the kitchen and rearranged stuff in the freezer so it would fit. Spotting some of the casseroles she'd prepared the week before she called, "Remind me to send food home with you. I froze some stuff last week, before I got so wrapped up in the case." She returned to the front room.
Cappie set one latte by her chair and carried the other to the sofa, where he settled. "Are you sure you don't need the food for your guest?"
Mel rolled her eyes. She curled up in her chair, tucking her feet beneath her. "I'm a big girl, daddy. I think I'm old enough to have guests without your approval."
He sipped his coffee and shrugged. "I never said you didn't have my approval. You could do much worse than an FBI agent who was a decorated war veteran."
She blinked. "How do you know he was a decorated veteran?"
"He told me. Last night, at the station. You were busy but we had hours with nothing to do besides talk. He told me lots of things." He took another drink. "Then I went home and Googled him."
"Daddy!" Mel protested, not really unhappy. She would have done the same thing if she'd had time. Their week together had gone by like a whirlwind. "So what else did he tell you?"
He smiled. "I'm liking this 'daddy' business. You haven't called me that in years, and now I've gotten it three times in the last twenty-four hours. Why did you stop, anyway?"
Mel thought about it as she sipped her latte. "I couldn't call you 'daddy' in front of other cops. I was protecting the family honor I guess."
"The day they pinned that badge on you was one of the proudest days of my life. Our family honor was never in jeopardy. I'd say you sealed that deal nicely."
She glanced at him over the rim of her cup. "Can you still say that after last night? I feel like I've let you down."
"Melanie Ann Curtis!" His voice was gruff. "Look at me. Did you do anything wrong?"
"No, Sir." She batted her eyes rapidly to blink back impending tears.
"Don't ever think you let me down. Someone is railroading you, without a doubt. It's a pisser, but bad things happen to good people all the damn time. Especially cops. We have to pick ourselves up and go on."
"I hope I can." Tears broke loose, forming trails down her cheeks. "I hope I still have a job to return to."
He set his cup down and held out his arms.
Mel deposited her latte next to his and fell into his arms, crying as he cradled her.
When her heaving sobs eventually slowed, Cappie pulled out his handkerchief and dried her face. "Where's Nate? What's he doing about all this?"
She sniffled. "He's at the department, working with Henry and Brady, trying to figure it out."
"I'm glad." He smoothed her hair. "I think you're in good hands, Mel."
She curled up in his strong arms. "I know I am, Daddy."
He kissed the top of her head and held her tight for the better part of the next hour.
* * * *
Mel finally pulled herself together and sat up. Her latte had grown cold and she was seriously considering breaking out the ice cream.
Her father stood and stretched. "Ready for some Rocky Road?"
She smiled. "Absolutely."
He left and returned with the carton and two spoons. He sat next to her and they scraped the top of the frozen confection.
Mel tasted the sweet chocolate and sighed, allowing a small smile. "This is good. Thanks for thinking of it."
"Anything for you, kiddo."
"So…." She licked her spoon. "What else did Nate tell you last night?"
He shrugged. "Not that much. Mentioned his mom died when he was two. He was raised by his grandparents."
She blinked. "No kidding? I had no idea. What about his father, where was he?"
Cappie shook his head. "No idea, and I didn't think to ask. Said he grew up in a really small town and made some mischief as a kid. Sounds like the army straightened him out, though."
Mel couldn't lose the image of Nate's mom dying when he was just a toddler. "How sad."
"He seems okay."
"Yeah." She smiled, other images of Nate filling her mind. "He's a good guy, Daddy. I hope we can find a way to make the long distance thing work."
"That what you want?"
She nodded. "We want to try, anyway. I guess we'll see how it goes."
"Just so you don't do something stupid like moving to Texas."
"I'm not going anywhere." She grew thoughtful and they were both quiet.
He changed the subject. "Got a letter from your aunt Nan back east. She's going to be a grandma again."
"Really?" Mel asked a few questions about her mother's sister and they talked about family for a while. There wasn't much of it, or much to say, so the conversation didn't take long.
She took one more spoonful of ice cream and, noticing he'd stopped eating, replaced the lid on the container.
He stood. "I should go. I have to work later and there's a few things I need to do first."
Mel knew her father enjoyed his job, but suspected he dreaded going in today. The place was crawling with cops, some of whom had to know what was going on. Let alone the ones who saw her led out the night before. "Bet you're looking forward to that."
He shrugged. "It's all going to work out."
"I really can't believe the press doesn't have my name yet."
"It's bound to happen. Cops are a pretty tight brotherhood, but somebody's sure to open their mouth and blab soon."
"I know." Rising, she returned the ice cream to the freezer and brought out the casseroles she'd prepared for him. Packing them in a tote bag, she handed it over by the front door. "Hope you enjoy them."
"You know I will." He took the handle and paused long enough to kiss her cheek one last time. "Keep your chin up, kiddo. Nate's going to solve this thing. I have confidence in the lad, even if he is a Yankee fan."
Mel chuckled and opened the door for her father. "Thanks again for the ice cream and the shoulder. I love you."
Halfway down the sidewalk he paused and looked over his shoulder. "Right back atcha." Cappie winked and shuffled to his car.
Mel watched him drive off, her attention diverted by the black SUV moving slowly down her street. For a second she thought it was Nate's FBI vehicle, but it wasn't that shiny. Mel peered at the driver and her heart thudded when she spotted Dick Webb behind the wheel.
A grin spread across his face as he drove slowly by.
Mel hurried into her house and slammed the door, locking it. She ran to the other doors and made sure they were secure. Her last stop was the bedroom closet, where she kept her back-up handgun. She released the safety and checked the action, her heart still beating wildly.
Moving cautiously down the hall, she peered out the front blinds and watched for several minutes, but Webb never returned. Mel grabbed her cell and punched Nate's number.
"Willis."
"When did Dick Webb get released?"
"Hello to you, too. What makes you think he's out?"
"He just drove past my house."
"I will kill that son-of-a-bitch," Nate swore angrily. "Stay put, I'll be right there."
"Nate, no. I'm fine. I need you working the case. You can't help me from here."
"Apparently someone didn't think so if he's walking around free today."
"A killer with a very good lawyer, then. This evidence thing hurt us bad. Without something in hand, everything we saw is hearsay."
"That really sucks. Any sign of Martin yet?"
"Nothing. They're searching airports, but the prick probably just drove down the highway. When he hits Chicago he'll hop a flight from O'Hare to an island somewhere, and never be heard from again."
"Maybe by then they'll have his picture out and someone will spot him. It can't be that easy to disappear. Doesn't he have a mom or someone he's leaving behind? Christ, everyone has a mom." She bit her lip, realizing what she'd said. "Shit, I'm sorry…."
He chuckled. "You've been talking to your father. That's okay. I was going to tell you. We'll talk about it sometime. It's just right now, you know—"
"I know, and it's okay. I'm glad you're here to help me. It's only a matter of time before this thing breaks open, so you've got to keep going. Do whatever you can."
"I don't like leaving you there alone with that monster on the loose. Can you go to your dad's place?"
"He was here for a while, but he had to work. It's okay."
"Webb knows who you are, Mel. I hate that."
"I do too, but who said I was alone? I've got my buddies Smith and Wesson with me."
"Good! I meant to ask if you had a back-up piece. I should have left you mine."
"I've got an MP compact nine millimeter."
"Nice. Wear it, and your phone. If you hear anything funny, see anything suspicious, call me or nine-one-one. I'm pretty sure I'll get there faster."
Mel laughed. "You got it."
"I'll ask Reeder if he can send a black and white over there, just to be safe."
"Sounds good. I'll be fine. Thanks Nate." She wanted to say more. The words 'I love you' were on the tip of her tongue, but she wasn't going to say them for the first time over the phone. She just needed to say something. "I, uh…."
"I know." His voice sounded gravelly. "Me too. Talk to you soon, beautiful."
The call ended.
