Covert Exposure

by Valerie J. Clarizio

  “Got a call from Ms. Fontaine. It appears that Shannon is quite upset again this morning. I thought we came to an understanding yesterday. I thought you were going to just do as you were told. I thought we were going to just get through the next couple of weeks and then everything would go back to normal. Where did we go wrong? What the hell did you do to piss her off so much? And for God’s sake, Spinelli, tell me you didn’t sleep with her already.”

  Jackson’s last comment angered Spinelli. He sprang to his feet, stepped toward her desk and stared down at her. “First of all, I am doing what she told me to do but things just got a little out of hand this morning. This assignment is bullshit, absolute bullshit.” He pointed out the window as he continued to speak, “We’ve got killers out there to apprehend and I’m wasting my time riding around with Social Services taking care of all this touchy-feely crap. And furthermore, it’s nobody’s business who I do and don’t sleep with.”

  “Sit down, Spinelli.”

  Spinelli sat. He folded his arms over his chest, his jaw knotted so tight his ears started to hurt. Uncomfortable silence filled the Captain’s office.

  Jackson broke the silence. “I told Fontaine again that you’re it. You are all we can spare right now. I assured her you would be on your best behavior. We’ll get through the holiday season and then things will return to normal. Am I clear?”

  “Yes.”

  Jackson pointed out her office window and Spinelli turned his head to look in that same direction. He saw Walker leading Shannon through the maze of desks toward the interview room. Marsh followed. Marsh caught Spinelli’s attention, nodded toward Shannon, and mouthed the word “hot” while displaying the look of a starving lion on his face.

  Spinelli sprang to his feet, took two steps toward Jackson’s office door, and then looked back at her as if asking for permission to leave.

  She met Spinelli’s gaze and shook her head. “No, sit. Shit. Christ, Spinelli, don’t do this to me. I don’t have time for this shit.”

  “What, what shit? You said I should help Walker and Marsh with the Santa investigation. I need to be in that interview room,” Spinelli snapped as he frantically shifted his glance back and forth between Shannon and Jackson.

  Jackson blew out a sigh. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be in there with her right now.”

  Spinelli opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off, “I wasn’t born yesterday. I recognize that hungry look.” Jackson paused and without breaking eye contact with Spinelli, she shook her head. “You certainly picked a fine time.”

  Chapter Seven

  Spinelli paced the squad room. He ran his sweaty palms over his thighs, his heart raced and sharp pains danced through his head. He desperately needed to be in the interview room. He needed to know what Shannon knew about the murders, if anything. He couldn’t imagine how anyone so sweet and thoughtful could be tangled up in anything as sordid as murder.

  Finally, the door to the interview room swung open and Spinelli saw Shannon step out. Marsh and Walker followed. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to her and wrap her in his arms. She looked exhausted. She blotted her teary red-stained eyes with a tissue, smearing the mascara further down her cheeks.

  Spinelli had witnessed a lot of performances by the accused in his day but he knew deep down that she wasn’t acting. He knew she didn’t have anything to do with the deaths of Roland Hudson and Aaron Reed; she was just too pure.

  Shannon stepped toward Spinelli and looked up at him through her long thick lashes with her big tear-filled emerald green eyes. She sniffled, “My friends…my friends were murdered.”

  Spinelli stepped toward her, closing the gap between them. He reached for her but she stepped back. “I’ll be in my office, Detective. I won’t need your services until later this afternoon.”

  He stared after her as she walked away. For the first time ever he felt rejected. But he found the rejection bothered him less than the fact that she hurt. He wanted to help her. He wanted to hold her and comfort her.

  Marsh slapped Spinelli on his shoulder blade. “Ooh, that was cold, buddy. You’re not kidding. She hates you.”

  “Shut up. Just shut the hell up!” Spinelli barked.

  Spinelli turned to Walker. “Did she provide any insight as to who murdered Hudson and Reed?”

  “I don’t think she has a clue and Marsh verified her alibi while I talked with her.”

  A blanket of anger fell over Spinelli and he got in Walker’s face. “Her alibi! You can’t possibly think she’s got anything to do with this!”

  Walker took a step back. “Hey, pal, she knew both the vics and she worked with them where they were murdered. I’m only doing my job.”

  Spinelli pinched the bridge of his nose. He squeezed his eyes shut briefly and drew in slow deep breaths before dropping his hand to his side. “Sorry, Walker, I understand. You were right to take that approach. Out of curiosity, what’s her alibi? How does she spend her evenings?”

  Marsh cut in. “Well, your sweet little thing is exactly that. Both nights she was at St. Mary’s church helping the Sisters with their Christmas Toys for Tots Program. Sister Mary verified that Shannon was there from 7:00 p.m. until shortly before midnight.”

  A wide smirk grew across Marsh’s face.

  “What, what’s that smirk for?” Spinelli asked.

  Marsh chuckled. “She is so not your type of woman.”

  * * * *

  Shannon tossed her tear-dampened tissue into the garbage can and retrieved another from the tissue box on her desk. She pressed the tissue to her eyes to absorb the remaining tears.

  The sound of heavy footsteps drew her attention causing her to look up and glance at the doorway. “Hi Anna.”

  “My God, are you okay? I heard what happened to Santa and the Elf, and I heard they just questioned you downstairs. Is that true?”

  Shannon’s emotions ran rampant throughout her causing her body to quiver. Her anger, hurt and grief all jockeyed for placement. Anger won. “That son of a bitch, he did this to me!”

  Anna cocked her head to the side. “What? Who are you talking about?”

  “Spinelli, that jerk!”

  “Shannon, just calm down and take a breath then tell me what you mean.”

  Shannon stared into Anna’s warm eyes and took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm her racing heart. Her mind wrestled to place her thoughts in order.

  “Detective Spinelli, he did this on purpose. For some reason he hates me. He’s been an absolute jerk since he walked through my doorway. It’s because of him Detectives Marsh and Walker questioned me about the murders of Roland and Aaron. I don’t know what his problem is, he’s just a dick!”

  Anna sat down in the chair opposite Shannon’s desk and leaned forward aligning her eyes with Shannon’s. “Are you hearing yourself? I’m sure Detective Spinelli is not doing this just to make you miserable…”

  “He is, Anna. You don’t know him. He completely defies me when we’re on a call. He doesn’t know shit about what we deal with everyday yet he keeps overstepping his bounds and screws everything up! If you would have witnessed his behavior on the Washington and Smith calls you would understand what I’m talking about.”

  Anna leaned back in her chair and raked her hand through her graying hair. “Shannon, I think there’s something you should know about Detective Spinelli.”

  “What, that he’s really not human and his heart is made of stone?”

  Anna shook her head. “Wow, you are torqued.”

  Shannon could feel her cheeks heating up. She suddenly felt embarrassed about the accusations she made about Spinelli. “I’m sorry, I am upset, but it’s no reason for me to spout off to you. What is it I should know about Detective Spinelli?”

  Anna leaned forward in her chair. “I just spoke with Captain Jackson in regard to getting a replacement for him, and well, he’s all they have to spare right now. Jackson’s not hap
py about it either, loaning out her best homicide detective to any other department, but apparently his partner just retired so he’s the only one flying solo right now and all the others are loaded with open cases…”

  “Can’t they just shift him around and free up someone else?” Shannon interrupted.

  “I asked the same question and apparently it’s just not that simple.”

  “Oh.”

  Anna glanced about the room as she nibbled on her chapped bottom lip.

  “Is there more? You look like you want to say more,” Shannon asked.

  Anna met Shannon’s gaze and gave a slight nod. “Yeah, there is more I think you should know. You see, Detective Spinelli is actually quite aware of what we deal with day in and day out in our department.”

  “What? You could have fooled me,” Shannon interrupted as she rolled her eyes.

  “Shannon.”

  “Sorry.”

  “He’s lived it, Shannon. Detective Spinelli grew up in the system. When he was real young he’d been passed around from foster home to foster home when he wasn’t living with his drug addicted mother who supported her habit by prostituting herself.”

  Shannon’s lips parted to speak but she closed them before any words escaped.

  Anna continued. “When Detective Spinelli was sixteen his mother died of a drug overdose. He doesn’t even know who is father is. Anyhow, he lived on the streets for a while making a living by card sharking and pool hustling until he woke up one day and decided to change his life. He finished high school and put himself through college all on his own.” Anna offered a slight smile and shook her head. “Maybe this assignment is just a little too close to home for him.”

  Shannon placed her elbows on her desk and rested her head in her hands for a few moments, absorbing what she’d just heard. She lifted her head and met Anna’s gaze again. “Is there more?”

  “Well, I can tell Captain Jackson favors him a bit, maybe even mothers him a bit. She kept telling me over and over again what a great detective he is. She also mentioned that his partner, Mad Dog Maxwell, retired this week. I guess Mad Dog’s been somewhat of a father figure to him.”

  Shannon sighed. Anna’s eyes stayed fixed on her. “I feel like such an idiot. I wish I would have known this before. I was so rude to him downstairs after my interview with Detectives Walker and Marsh. He was trying to be nice to me and I totally snubbed him.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. You didn’t know,” Anna replied with a soft reassuring smile.

  Shannon shook her head. “No, I didn’t know but I should have been nicer to him anyway, professional courtesy. But I can’t seem to help myself, for some reason he just infuriates me.”

  Chapter Eight

  With reluctance Spinelli headed in the direction of Shannon’s office. It was nearly 2:00, time for their next call. He rapped his knuckle on her office doorframe and she looked up at him from behind her desk. A ripple of relief flowed through his body when he noticed the corners of her mouth twitching upward, moving slowly and perhaps forced, but they were still moving in the right direction. He waited patiently for her smile. It took a bit but it did surface.

  “Good afternoon, Detective Spinelli.”

  He returned her smile. “Good afternoon, Miss O’Hara.”

  The formalities struck him oddly but he went with it in an effort to not rock the boat and keep peace.

  He took a seat in one of the guest chairs opposite her desk and sat quietly as he watched her pick up a legal sized envelope from the top of a tall stack of mail. She sliced the envelope open with a long plastic letter opener. She set both the letter and the opener down on her desk and turned her attention back to him. “I’m sorry but I meant to call you before you came up here this afternoon. Our home visit for this afternoon has been rescheduled for next week so I don’t have anything for you on the docket for the remainder of the day.”

  A blanket of relief fell over Spinelli. He wouldn’t have to go on another one of these awful calls for a couple of days but the relief was quickly chased off by disappointment. He found himself wanting to spend time with her but now that opportunity disappeared as well. He stood. “No problem, I’ll be downstairs working on the Santa and Elf case. Call if you need me.”

  “Okay.”

  Spinelli stepped into the hall outside her office before he heard her loud gasp. He spun on his heel and stepped back into her office to find her staring down at what appeared to be an eight by ten photo. She held the photo in her right hand and the legal sized envelope in her left hand. He watched as she dropped the envelope and used her left hand to help steady the shaking photo. She pulled the photo closer to her eyes.

  “What is it a picture of?” he asked as he stepped around her desk and behind her to get a better look. Spinelli stared down at a glossy of Shannon and Santa, and several elves, including Aaron Reed. In the photo, Santa sat on a large red velvet chair. The elves and Shannon surrounded him.

  Shannon shifted her attention from the photo to Spinelli who stood behind her, looking over her shoulder. “It’s a promotional photo we took at the mall last week.”

  Spinelli could easily see the sadness flood her bright emerald green eyes. She turned her attention back to the photo. Her shoulders slumped. “Seven of us in the photo, and now two are gone,” she whispered.

  “I’m sorry, Shannon.”

  Shannon set the photo on her desk and picked up the small yellow square sticky note stuck to her desktop calendar. She reached up and handed it to Spinelli. “This was stuck to the photo.”

  He took the note from her. The note read, “Shannon, Be careful of the company you keep, things are not always as they seem. Roland.”

  He scanned the note again and then looked down at Shannon.

  “I don’t know what he’s talking about. I don’t know who he means,” Shannon blurted in an unsteady voice, shaking her head.

  Spinelli glanced at the envelope the photo came in. The envelope showed no return address and the date stamp happened to be the same day Roland Hudson’s body was found. He placed the note in front of her. “Shannon, do you recognize this handwriting? Is it Roland’s?” he asked in a calm controlled voice in effort to not rattle her any more than she already was.

  She studied the note. “I don’t know. I don’t recall if I ever saw anything Roland wrote.”

  “Had you spent time with Roland?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, were you friends? Did you do anything together? How well did you know him?”

  Shannon thought for a moment. “I really didn’t know him all that well. He was just a nice old man who played Santa Claus at the mall. I only ever saw him when we worked together the past couple of seasons.”

  Spinelli shifted his eyes back to the photo. “How about the other people in the photo? Who are they and how well do you know them?”

  Shannon stared at the photo for a moment. “Outside of working with them I never see them. All I know about them is their names and the fact they are college students.”

  A monstrous wave of adrenaline rippled through Spinelli’s veins moving his senses into “full alert” mode and a tsunami of questions flooded his mind. Did Roland really send the photo and message? If so, who, and what, exactly was he trying to warn her about? If Roland didn’t send the package, who did? And, how much danger was she really in?

  Spinelli looked down and stared into Shannon’s big innocent naïve eyes. Unfortunately, he knew the answer to the most pertinent question. Two murders equal a lot of danger.

  Chapter Nine

  Spinelli stood in front of the mirror and looked at his arms as they stuck out beyond the fat suit he just fastened to himself. He turned sideways to view himself in the mirror before bending over to pull up the red velvet pants. The enormous gut-roll made the task nearly impossible. He caught his breath then bent over to pull on the big black boots he needed to wear, again a near to impossible undertaking.

  He reached into his locker
and pulled out a matching plush red velvet coat trimmed with white fur. He threw the coat around his shoulders and buttoned it. The coat fit snugly around his midsection. Next, he grabbed a wide black belt with a big gold buckle, flung it around his waistline, and fastened it on the last notch. From the shelf in the locker, he retrieved a wig with long white wavy hair, and a red velvet hat trimmed with white fur and tassel at the top. He tugged the wig over his head until it felt snug then he fastened on the matching beard. Instantaneously the beard caused his nose and face to itch.

  Spinelli turned to face the mirror once again. He couldn’t help but wonder how he came to be wearing a Santa suit at the mall. He wanted to be an elf but there were no elf positions available and Human Resources told him that there’s no such thing as a six foot-two elf. As he stared at his ridiculous self in the mirror, he could hear Captain Jackson’s laugh echo throughout his head. He recalled the words she said to him the day before, “Maybe playing Santa will do you some good. You know, soften you up a bit.”

  He took one last look at himself in the mirror. He reached up under his beard and scratched his itchy chin. “Well, working a homicide undercover as Santa beats child recovery and placement any day,” he whispered to his reflection.

  Spinelli strode out of the employee locker room and into the busy mall, his big belly swishing from side to side, as he walked. He didn’t recall ever being in the mall on a Saturday during the Christmas holiday season before, and he knew it probably wouldn’t ever happen again by choice. Hundreds of people, mostly women with their whiny kids in tow filled the mall.

  He made his way through the crowd to Santa’s village. He took in the sight of the wintery display as he walked through toward the red velvet chair. He glanced at the long line of children waiting for him. Panic rippled through his body.

  Spinelli walked past the snowy field of colorful eight-foot candy canes and passed by the red sleigh overflowing with presents. He stepped onto the low platform, which housed his chair and took a seat. He glanced to the left where a couple of elves stood wearing their green smocks and tights, as well as, their pointy green hats and matching shoes which curled up at the toes. They whispered amongst themselves in front of the fifteen-foot Christmas tree decorated with large silver and gold ornaments and big red bows. Glancing up he took notice of the large sparkly silver star perched at the top of the tree. He shifted his gaze toward the line of children who anxiously waited to see him. Good God, how did I end up here?