Strange Robby

by Selina Rosen

  "Who are you?" she demanded.

  "I'm looking for Spider Webb," he said.

  "Who are you?" Carrie demanded again.

  "Cecil Webb . . . I'm Spider's father. Man at the station house told me she left for home an hour ago. Said she lived here."

  Carrie didn't know what to do with him. She got him a cup of coffee and showed him to the den where she and George were working.

  Was Spider going to be glad he was here? Was she going to be mad that Carrie had let him in the house? What the hell was he doing here? Why now of all times?

  He was walking around the room looking at Spider's service photos and the medals that lined one wall of their den.

  "How long does it usually take her to get home? Hell, it only took me about twenty minutes, tops."

  It was a good question. It wasn't the first time Carrie had noticed a discrepancy in the time between Spider's leaving work and getting home. It took her anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour longer than it should have, and she wasn't always at the bar with Tommy.

  "She should be home soon," Carrie said.

  "So . . . I take it . . . You must be her girlfriend." He didn't even try to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

  "That would be me," Carrie said.

  "She's done very well for herself, hasn't she?" He indicated the medals, but Carrie knew what he meant.

  "She's worked very hard," Carrie said through gritted teeth.

  She heard the front door open, wondered if she should warn Spider, and if so—how. Too late, Spider was walking in the room.

  "What a fucking day I had . . . Hello, George."

  "Spider," George said.

  Spider walked over and kissed Carrie on the check. "So, how was your day?"

  "Average," Carrie said. "Spider, your . . . "

  Spider turned before she could finish and stared at the man standing in the corner. She glared at him. "What the fuck do you want?"

  "Spider, for God's sake!" Carrie muttered.

  Carrie looked at George who indicated that he had to leave the room. She nodded at him, and he all but ran out.

  "Is that any way to great your old man, girl?" Cecil asked with a laugh that was anything but pleasant.

  "Oh, I've graduated from 'worthless dyke' to girl, have I? We got nothing to say to each other, so why don't you bugger off, old man?"

  He was shaking with anger. "I thought maybe we could put all that behind us, but you're not going to let me do that, are you?"

  "What's in it for me?" Spider hissed.

  "OK, girl. I can be blunt, too. There's really only one reason I'm here. Two government bullyboys showed up at the house. Hadn't seen anything like them since right after your mother died. They asked a bunch of questions about you, your brother, and your mother. I didn't tell them too much. I sent them on their way, or I tried to. They weren't in any hurry to go, and made it real obvious that they'd rough me up if I pushed the issue."

  Spider's attitude changed. "What exactly did they want to know?"

  "Stupid shit, really. Were you a happy child? Did you have friends? Nightmares? Were you afraid of the dark? Asked the same things about Scott. They wanted to know why your mother left me . . . "

  "Mother left you? You never told us that," Spider said.

  "It wasn't anything you needed to know. I don't know why she left, and I told them so. I just came home from work one day, and she had taken you and your brother and gone. Didn't leave so much as a note. Two weeks later she died in the car crash . . . "

  "Where the fuck were Scott and I?" Spider asked.

  "You were both thrown clear. When they found you, you were still in your car seat. Didn't have a scratch. Or so they said. When I looked at you, you had little bruises all over. Nothing too bad, but I wondered how you got them."

  "We were in the car!" Spider screamed. "We were in the car, and you never told us that." Spider rubbed her head and tried to process the information. "Were these men SWTF?"

  He shrugged. "They said they were some kind of weapons experts or somethin'. Government goons in black trench coats show up at your door, you don't ask too many questions."

  "Did it ever dawn on you that maybe mother didn't leave of her own free will?" Spider asked.

  Cecil looked at Carrie. "There she goes again, the wonderful mother thing. I took care of her most of her life, fed her, clothed her. Me, she hated, but the wonderful mother . . . Always fantasizing about her. About how great she was. Spider and her brother both. Till the day Scott died he blamed me for everything. You ever try raising two thankless kids on your own? It ain't easy . . . ."

  "Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Spider screamed. Her fists were wrapped so tightly that her fingernails were biting into the skin of her palm. "I'm thirty-nine years old. Most of my life we haven't even been on speaking terms. Didn't you realize that these fuckers were after me? They want to play with my brain. What did you tell them about me?"

  "Don't you scream at me, girl!" Cecil's rage seemed more potent than his daughter's. "What the hell have you done that these guys are asking about you? What the hell are you into, girl?"

  "What did you tell them?" Spider hissed and pushed. She'd never pushed him before. But now she realized just how completely the parent/child bond between them had been severed, and didn't consider even for a moment that she might owe him the courtesy of not playing with his brain

  "I told them the truth. That you were a moody, miserable child. That you had nightmares constantly. There wasn't much to tell . . . "

  "Because you never really knew me. You were always fucking drunk off your ass. You're a belligerent, drunken piece of shit. Always were and always will be. Get out of here! Just get the hell out of my house," Spider ordered.

  "I want you to get those goons off my back," Cecil said, standing his ground. "It's your fault they're bothering me. I want you to stop doing whatever the hell you're doing so that they'll leave me alone. Better still give me some money so I can get the hell out of town. Yer girl's got enough cash to spare."

  "It will be a cold day in hell when I'd give you anything." Spider laughed at him. "Don't you get it? They've never left you alone, and they never will. This time it is my fault, and I don't give a damn. Get out of my house, or I'll throw you out. If you're wondering if I can, or if I really will, then just try me."

  Carrie pushed a drink into Spider's trembling fingers. "You OK, Spider?"

  Spider nodded and downed the drink before she avoided answering Carrie's question.

  "The dirty bastard has a hell of a nerve coming here. All my life I've been plagued by nightmares. The filthy creep knew exactly what I was dreaming about, and he never told me that we were in the wreck that killed our mother. Never sent us to counseling. Never even tried to help us get through it."

  George walked slowly into the room. "Carrie . . . can I help here?"

  "If you'd take those papers and work on them tonight I'd appreciate it," Carrie said.

  George walked over and collected the papers, sticking them into his briefcase. He started to leave, then turned at the door. "I'll see how much of it I can do on my own. If you guys need anything . . . "

  "Thanks, George," Carrie said. "Would you lock the door on your way out?"

  "Got it, boss." He left.

  Carrie waited till she heard the door close. "Why do you think they went to him? They must have known the two of you hadn't spoken in years. What was the point?"

  "They're squeezing me from all sides."

  Spider put her hands behind her neck and tried to rub away some of the tension.

  Carrie moved her hands and took over.

  "Thanks," Spider said. She could feel the calm returning to her body slowly as Carrie rubbed her neck and shoulders.

  "It's a military tactic. Not unlike some of the crap you do to people in the courtroom. They want to make sure that I have no place to turn; nothing that they haven't touched. My woman, my car, my house, everywhere I go, my estranged father. They are systematically touchin
g everything I have ever touched." She was thoughtful. "Apparently they mean to interrogate me. That's why they're compiling all this data. The more you know about a person the easier they are to break."

  "It's hard to get answers out of someone when you know nothing about them," Carrie agreed. "It's easy when you know everything about their past and their psyche. If you know the way their mind works, then they can't hide anything from you."

  "Problem is I have a feeling they know more about me than I know about myself," Spider said thoughtfully.

  Spider gently pushed Carrie's hands away, stood up and started pacing the room.

  Carrie sat down where Spider had been.

  "What do you mean by that?" Carrie asked. Spider looked down at her and Carrie threw up her hands. "Don't say it; I already know. You can't tell me without putting my life in jeopardy. Honey . . . don't I already know too much? Aren't I already a target?"

  "They would have to be pretty desperate to do anything to you right now."

  "You mean because I'm in the public eye?"

  Spider nodded. "If a secret agency wants to remain secret, and believe me these pecker-heads do, it doesn't run around nabbing government officials."

  Carrie nodded. That made sense. "What about you?"

  "I want you to make me a promise . . . "

  "Absolutely not," Carrie said, shaking her head frantically.

  "Hear me out, Carrie . . . "

  "No. I know what you're going to say, and I don't want to hear it."

  "If I go missing . . . "

  Carrie got up and stomped out of the room.

  Spider followed her, grabbed her arm and spun her around.

  "Damn it, Carrie, listen to me!"

  "No! You listen to me! If anything happens to you, I'm going to do everything in my power to take these bastards down, and nothing you can say—no vow, or promise, or oath you make me take—is going to stop me. Maybe you should go away. Hide out with one of your army pals for a while or something. Wait for things to cool down."

  "I can't run from this, Carrie. If I do it'll only follow me—or worse. This, whatever the hell it is, and please believe me when I tell you that I'm not exactly sure of all the details myself . . . It isn't going to go away. Sooner or later it's got to be dealt with." She took Carrie's face between her hands. "You have to be strong. Sometimes you have to play the game by their rules, but at least then when you win the game is over." Spider let Carrie go.

  "You're saying things that make no sense and scaring the hell out of me, Spider," Carrie said close to tears.

  "You're going to have to use your head. If you screw up trying to play the hero, you'll just get me killed. You'll get us all killed. You're an intelligent woman, Carrie, a hell of a lot smarter than I am. I'm trusting you to use your head and do the right thing. Don't let me down."

  "I'll try not to, but it would help if I knew what the hell I was supposed to not be doing and why."

  Chapter Fourteen

  "There is a vanity that is done upon the earth; that

  there are just men, to whom it happens according

  to the deeds of the wicked; again, there are wicked

  men, to whom it happens according to the deeds of

  the righteous: I said that this also is a vanity."

  Ecclesiastes 8:14

  Carrie looked at the memo in her hand. No doubt the bastards had decided to bring out their big guns. She threw the memo down on the desk and started pacing back and forth.

  What the hell did she do now?

  There was really only one thing she could do. She sat down again and pressed the button on her intercom.

  "Yes?" Laura's voice answered.

  "Laura, send George into my office. Then get hold of Spider and have her sent down here."

  "Anything wrong?" Laura asked.

  "Everything's wrong."

  "What do you mean?" Spider asked, pacing the floor.

  "His lawyers have asked that his case be reviewed, and their petition has been granted by the state supreme court. There's nothing I can do about it." Carrie sighed. "It gets better. I can't work this case because my relationship with you creates a conflict of interest."

  "You're not going to stand as prosecutor at his parole hearing because of some stupid ethical shit? The bastard helped kill my brother."

  "It's because he killed your brother. It's a conflict of interest, and it's not just an ethical thing, it's the law. I can help George set things up, get ready for trial . . . "

  "I can't believe these bastards can do this. They're going to free the asshole who killed my brother, and I can't stop them."

  "George is a good attorney, Spider. He'll do his best. With your testimony he shouldn't be paroled."

  "But he probably will be." Spider stood up and shook her head. "They'll make sure that he is. They think I'll go nuts and make a mistake, and then they can pick me up legally. Well, I don't know when they think I was born, but two can play at this game." Spider started for the door.

  "Spider."

  Spider turned to look at Carrie.

  "Don't sink to their level. Maybe they don't have as much clout as they'd like to believe. Maybe we can keep him in jail."

  "And maybe my ass is a tambourine and if you smack it, it will play music."

  Spider went out slamming the door.

  Carrie leaned back in her chair. "Gee! That went better than I expected."

  As the verdict came in Spider jumped out of her seat, walked to the back of the courtroom and slammed the doors open with her hands.

  She was fined a hundred dollars for her trouble—contempt of court—and warned by the judge that being the partner of the DA did not give her special rights and privileges.

  "Obviously not, since you stupid worthless blood sucking bastards just let my brother's killer walk out of here."

  She was fined another hundred dollars and warned that her next outburst would land her in jail.

  Carrie grabbed her by the arm and pulled her from the courtroom before she told the judge where she could stick her gavel. In the hallway Spider glared down at Carrie.

  "The whole fucking thing sucks. They couldn't do this if the whole fucking system wasn't corrupt."

  "Spider, please calm down," Carrie whispered as she continued to pull her down the hall away from the courtroom. "This is what they want. They're trying to make you hang yourself. That's why you have to promise me you're not going to go after this guy."

  Spider stopped and stared down at Carrie. "He's not going to just walk away, Carrie. I won't let that happen. But if you don't want me to go after this guy, I won't." She started walking again, and Carrie let go of her arm. "I'll beat them at their own game. I'll get them yet."

  When she got back to the station there was a message waiting for her. Lieutenant Toby wanted to see her in his office.

  "Sorry to hear about the verdict. I know it must be very hard for you," he said.

  Spider was silent.

  "I'm warning you, for your own good. Stay away from this guy. He's legally out, and if you do anything . . . "

  "I'm not a fucking idiot," Spider said, levering herself to the front of her chair.

  "You been giving me nothing but attitude lately, Webb! You got a problem?" Toby all but screamed.

  Spider stood up and stared down at him. "Problem? There's no problem! Just you and me trying to get through life without bumping into each other." She pushed just enough to make sure Toby was too scared to scream at her or call her back into his office, and then she walked out.

  She located Tommy and waved at him that she was ready to go.

  Tommy ran to catch up with her and met her at the front door.

  "It fucking reeks!" Tommy said. His answer to being supportive.

  Spider nodded silently and slammed the front door open.

  "Spider! What the hell!" Detective Jacobs started as Spider damn near hit him. She ignored him and walked towards their car. Obviously she intended to drive, and Tommy cringed
at the thought.

  "What are you going to do, Spider?" Tommy asked.

  Spider turned to him and smiled. Not the most pleasant expression he'd ever seen. "What do you think I ought to do, Tommy?"