by Joanne Pence
“Thanks for letting me know, Inspector,” Vito said.
Rebecca opened the door to get out of the truck when he added, “Wait, Inspector. Can we talk?”
She glanced at him. He looked worried and more hang-dog than ever. “Sure.” She pulled the door shut.
His brows crossed and he put both hands on the steering wheel as if he had to steel himself to talk to her.
She waited.
“I don’t mean to take up your time when you’re working,” he said, “but I’m worried about the boss.”
She knew he meant Richie. “You mean because of this case? Have you guys learned something I need to know about Audrey Poole or her business?
“No. You don’t get it. Me and Shay can keep him safe. That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Okay…” She waited.
He glanced at her, then the top of the truck, then the steering wheel, and finally back at her. “You see, well, he’s not been himself lately. He’s miserable. Not eating much. Cranky as all get-out. And also, Shay isn’t himself. Plus, he’s paying a lot of attention to you and your work schedule, and I know you and him have worked together in the past.”
The more Rebecca heard Vito say, the more astonished she was becoming. He couldn’t be implying what it sounded like. “Vito, what are you talking about?”
He seemed to grit his teeth. “I was wondering if you and Shay—”
“Stop!” She all but shuddered. “Me and Shay? Are you joking?” She couldn’t tell Vito, but she found Shay too weird for words. “No way!”
“But you’re both real good with guns and kind of think alike.”
“We do?” That actually worried her. From all she’d seen, Shay was a borderline sociopath. She didn’t know what to say.
“Thank God, I was wrong, Inspector. I didn’t think you two would get together, but I couldn’t help but remember that Dante said, ‘The more souls resonate together, the greater the intensity of their love,’ so I thought—”
“I don’t think he meant being snipers together,” she snapped. She was getting to dislike Vito’s Dante quotes almost as much as Richie did. “You don’t think Richie imagines there’s anything between me and Shay, do you?”
Vito’s face scrunched up. “Nah. I don’t think so. He keeps getting mad at Shay, but he picks on me, too, and he sure as hell doesn’t think we’re—” with that, he blushed to the top of his receding hairline. Rebecca didn’t think men who were tough and pushy, in other words “muscle,” the way Vito could be when necessary, could still blush. Obviously, she was wrong.
“Anyway,” Vito continued, “all I can say is, I don’t know what’s going on with those two guys. I love ‘em like brothers, but I wish they’d both marry and settle down. Then they’d be easier to understand.”
Vito had, again, rendered her speechless.
He continued. “I guess you and the boss ain’t seeing eye-to-eye these days, huh? Splitsville?”
“Who knows?” Rebecca said. “You know how these things go.”
“I’m sure sorry to hear that, Inspector.”
She opened the door and got out of the truck. “Thanks, Vito. You take care of those two—sounds like they both need you right now.”
As she headed back to her SUV, she replayed Vito’s strange conversation in her mind.
She walked around his truck and seeing the street clear, started to jaywalk.
Suddenly, she felt a ham-like arm wrap around her waist. She was about to fight it when she saw the ugly brown of the coat sleeve covering that arm. Vito? He easily lifted her off her feet, spun around and tossed her towards the sidewalk. His big bulk stood between her and the street for just an instant when he lunged forward, knocking them both to the ground between two parked cars as a black sedan sped by the spot where she would have been standing had he not grabbed her.
Vito had left the truck door open as he rushed to pull her out of harm’s way, and the sedan drove so close it hit the truck’s door and knocked it off its hinges and into the air. The sedan didn’t stop, but kept going.
Rebecca watched, stunned and breathless from the close call. “Where did it come from? I didn’t see it.”
“It’s been circling the street ever since you showed up here, and then it parked,” Vito said. “As you started to cross, I saw it pull out of the parking space. I figured what was up.”
“Thank you, Vito,” she murmured.
“You got to be careful, Inspector. The boss thinks something weird is going on here. And now, I’d say he’s right.”
o0o
Richie, Vito and Shay sat in Richie’s favorite booth at the Leaning Tower Taverna. Vito had called Richie after witnessing Rebecca’s close call out on Noriega Street, and Richie wanted to meet to talk about it.
“You need to stick with her, boss, day and night,” Vito suggested. “You done it before.”
Richie hated to bend the truth to his best friends, but the open looks on their faces, from Vito’s dark eyes to Shay’s luminous blue ones, made him realize he couldn’t yet tell them what was really going on.
“I can’t,” he murmured.
“What do you mean?” Shay asked.
“Well … I’m not sure how much I’ll be seeing her.” Richie blurted the words fast. It was the only way he could get them out.
“Shit,” Vito muttered, casting a bleak eye towards Shay.
“Christ, Richie!” Shay’s brows crossed. “You’re crazy about her. What’s wrong with you?”
Richie leaned back. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he also knew the guys wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t tell them she was walking out on him. It didn’t fit his love’em-and-leave’em image, and at the moment, image was all he had left.
Finally, he fell back on his mother’s words, much as he hated himself for doing it. “It’s complicated.”
Shay said nothing, but Vito exclaimed, “Yeah, the Inspector said pretty much the same thing.”
“You talked to Rebecca about me?” Richie bellowed.
“Not much, boss,” Vito said. “I thought something was wrong, but I wasn’t sure, that’s all. I mean, it looked like you guys was getting along great, and then poof.”
Richie decided he owed it to them to try to explain. “I care about her. Still do; a lot. But nothing’s going to come of it. You know it, I know it, and Rebecca knows it. I need to find someone to marry and settle down. I’m staring forty in the face. It’s time. I used to hate hearing my mother tell me that because I thought she was wrong. Now, I hate it because I know she’s right. Even about the grandkids she wants to spoil rotten.”
“So marry Rebecca.” Vito’s arms spread so wide he could have been announcing a solution for world peace.
“Yeah, like that’s going to happen.” Richie scoffed. “Apparently, the one and only time she forgot herself and kissed me in front of some other cops, she was ribbed so much about it she went around work telling anyone who’d listen that she was temporarily carried away with relief that I was alive. And that the public display of emotion meant nothing at all.”
“She told you that?” Shay asked.
“No. My cousin Angie told me she heard it from her husband. Paavo wasn’t there at the time, but when he went back to Homicide the next day, all the inspectors were talking about it. That was Rebecca’s explanation for what’s going on between us.”
“She was just trying to get them off her back,” Vito said. “You know how guys are.”
“For all I know, it might be best if she dates other guys.” He tried not to spit out the words. “Get some perspective, or whatever.”
“Really? You wouldn’t care?” Vito asked.
Like hell, I wouldn’t! “I’d get over it.”
“How does she feel?” Shay asked.
“I suspect the same way.” Richie took a long swallow of his glass of Anchor Steam, then faced his friends. “Besides that, she’s ambitious. She probably sees herself as becoming chief of police someday. And frankly, as a smart woman and a go
od cop, she has a decent chance of it. I don’t exactly have the best résumé for the role of a police chief’s spouse.”
Vito’s mouth wrinkled. “The picture you’re painting isn’t the woman I seen around you.”
“Come on, Vito. You know we’re like oil and water,” Richie said. “We don’t mix, okay? Besides, she’s practical to a fault, and probably has already figured out that she’ll need to marry someone in the law—preferably someone in the district attorney’s office. Or, maybe a judge.”
“If you really believed that of her,” Shay said, “you’d never bother to see her again.”
Richie wished Shay wasn’t so good at calling his bluff. “Maybe,” he admitted.
“You gotta roll the dice, boss,” Vito said. “Sometimes you get snake eyes, but you could also roll a seven or eleven. But let the game play out.”
Richie looked at Vito a long moment. That was actually damn good advice. Maybe there was something to reading all that Dante as a kid. “I’ll think about it,” he said finally. “But none of this means we shouldn’t all keep an eye on her. Just that we won’t tell her we’re doing it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Later that night, since Big Caesars was closed on Mondays, Richie was home when his phone buzzed. Usually he had lots to do, people to see, and fun to be had. Tonight he didn’t want to do anything at all. The TV was on, but he couldn’t find a single game that interested him, and he had every sports package available. He sat facing it, alone and miserable.
“Something’s going on, boss,” Vito said into the phone when Richie roused himself enough to answer. Vito sounded breathless and tense. “I was keeping an eye on the Inspector’s house like we said I should. Since it’s nearly midnight, I was thinking everything was okay, when she comes out of the house and gets in her car. I got the police band on my shortwave, and there’s nothing going on about a homicide. I’m saying, when a body’s found, it’s big, and there’s a lot of chatter.”
It took a moment for Richie to put all the pieces Vito was saying together, but once he did, he didn’t like it. “Where are you?” he asked. “What’s she doing?”
“She’s heading west on Geary. Towards the Richmond district. She had her firearm. I don’t think she’s going out for pizza.”
“I’ll call Shay. We’ll follow.”
“It could be nothing, boss,” Vito said. “I don’t want to take you from your home on a hunch, but I thought I’d call, just in case.”
“Your hunches are better than most. I’m coming.”
Richie hung up. He had a bad feeling about Vito’s call. From the time he learned that both Sean Hinkle—in other words, City Hall—as well as a Chinese triad might be involved in Audrey’s real estate dealings, he’d been worried about Rebecca. San Francisco politics was always a rough game, and some people, particularly those on the fringes, weren’t the up-and-up types they liked to convince voters they were. None of them would stand for one lone detective ruining all they had going.
He tried to call Rebecca. She didn’t answer. She often didn’t take any personal calls when she was headed for a crime scene. She’d been taught the importance of leaving the phone line open.
He got into his Porsche and headed north. From the car, he called Shay who lived in the Presidio Heights area. “Rebecca just went out on a call that Vito finds suspicious. They’re heading west on Geary, in your direction. I’m going that way, but if you’re home, you’re a lot closer.”
“I’m home. I’ll call Vito and head out right now.”
Vito phoned back to say Rebecca had turned off Geary to go north on 25th Avenue. Richie knew a shortcut through Golden Gate Park to that area and took it.
He tried to reach Rebecca again, with no more luck than his last call.
He gave her a chance to call him back, but when she didn’t, he contacted Vito once more. “What’s happening now?”
“She pulled into the Baker’s Beach parking lot. I left my truck out on the street and I’m hiding back among in the trees and shrubs watching her, but it’s so damned foggy out here, I can’t see much of anything. No other cops, though. I don’t know why she’s here.”
“It’s not good,” Richie said. “I wonder if she’s trying to meet someone connected with this case, someone like Sean Hinkle.”
“Who?”
“Nothing. Just tell me what you see.”
“Hold on.” Vito was whispering now. “She’s walking around. Let me get closer. I’ll call you back.”
Richie felt he was hitting every red light as he went. He called Shay to let him know what was happening.
A short while later, Vito phoned. “Sorry, boss. False alarm. Another cop showed up. He told her she’s the first one here, that the crime scene is at the north end of the beach. He said the uniforms are parked up the road, that they took a path down the hillside, which you know is plenty steep. The Inspector’s taking the beach to get there.”
“Make sure the cops are where they’re supposed to be,” Richie said. “I’m almost there and this still doesn’t feel right.”
Richie immediately hung up and called Shay, explaining everything to him.
“I’m just turning onto Lincoln,” Shay said. “I’ll forget the parking area and head up the hill. There are a few paths down to the beach. Hold on, I’m almost there.”
Richie waited, and in a minute Shay came back. “No squad cars anywhere around here.”
“Damn! Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Vito just showed up. He’s been driving around, too, but he couldn’t find any cops either. I’m heading down to the beach.”
“Okay,” Richie said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Vito was waiting by the side of the road when Richie arrived, his truck behind Shay’s Maserati. “I screwed up, boss. I’m sorry. I should’ve followed her on the beach,” Vito said. “Take this.” He handed Richie his Glock as Richie got out of the car.
Richie looked over the weapon. The magazine was full. “We’ll make it right, Vito. Don’t worry.”
“Shay went down what they call a ‘sand ladder.’ It’s right over there,” Vito said. “I never been down it, so I don’t know how tough it might be.”
“It’s better than nothing, I’m sure,” Richie said.
He sent a text to Shay, and then took the steep, slippery path to the beach.
Shay met him at the bottom. “I checked this area. The fog is brutal, but I’m pretty sure she’s not here. Let’s head north.”
Richie was fuming as they went. He was the one who had pulled Vito off Rebecca’s trail. He should have known better. And now, in this thick fog, he wondered if they’d ever find her. One thing he knew for certain, they weren’t looking for a crime scene. Out here was just Rebecca … and whoever it was that wanted her here alone.
He had to find her; he couldn’t lose her, too.
He and Shay were almost at the rocks when he heard a hail of gunshots. That was no handgun, he thought. It sounded like a semi-automatic rifle. His heart in his throat, he and Shay ran towards the sound.
Towards the rocks.
As quickly as it began, all became silent. Richie wouldn’t let himself think what that might mean—that Rebecca wasn’t able to fight back. He would find her. She would be safe.
There was silence for a while, and then a single shot. Almost immediately, it was followed by another barrage, and then what sounded like hand-gun fire coming from the cliffs.
“I suspect it’s Rebecca near the cliffs,” Shay said. “I’ll go after the one with the assault rifle.”
Richie nodded. He was slinking towards the cliff he heard more shots from the direction Shay had gone, followed by a fusillade of bullets. When he realized they were falling near him, he dropped to the sand, hands over his head as bullets flew.
He scrambled towards the cliffs, as gunfire continued.
“Rebecca?” he called softly.
“Richie?” she whispered.
He followed the sound o
f her voice. “I can’t see a damned thing out here.”
“Stay down,” she said.
“I see the cliffs,” Richie said.
“I don’t … Ah! I can make out your form. Move a little to your right, and straight.”
More gunfire was heard, and Richie ran towards her. She grabbed his jacket and pulled him into the concave section where she’d been hiding, and then even closer.
The gunfire stopped.
He put his hands on her waist. “You okay?” he asked.
She continued to hold his jacket and nodded.
“You should have answered your damned phone,” he said, his heart in his throat.
She nodded again. Up close, he could see her eyes dart with fright, her face all but drained of color. “I don’t know where the shooter is, or what’s going on out here.” Her words were a whisper.
“Shay’s gone after him.”
“Shay, thank God!” She glanced quickly at her firearm. “I’m almost out of bullets, and I don’t think I hit him at all.”
Richie thought about holding her closer, but then he froze, scarcely breathing. “I heard something,” he whispered.
He let her go and both pressed themselves against the cliff’s wall, peering in the direction of the water. Rebecca stood ready to fire her gun. Richie knelt, peering around her, also staring hard at the beach and trying to see what was out there. He held Vito’s Glock. He wasn’t a good shot, but he could pull a damned trigger if he needed to.
“Don’t shoot!” Shay said as he ran towards them. “I’m pretty sure the shooter was hit, but I don’t know where he is or how badly he’s hurt. I suggest we get out of here while we can.”
“Wait,” Rebecca murmured as she began to pick up her shell casings. She was moving slowly, as if still in shock from the way she’d been targeted. Richie helped her, and stuffed all the casings into his own pocket. If someone reported the shoot-out, they could have been traced back to her and her gun.
He took hold of her arm, and with Shay leading the way, the three climbed back up the sand ladder to their cars.
“Give Vito your car keys,” Richie said to Rebecca. “He’ll drive your SUV. If someone tries to follow it, he knows how to lose any tail. Then, he’ll hide it.”
