by Jet MacLeod
“What?” Grace asked, catching Sam looking at her.
“Just wondering what you’re thinking about,” Sam answered.
“The case.”
“Anything you wanna share?”
“Nothing really. Just trying to process the scene in my head. Trying to mentally compare things. Not really getting anywhere anyway,” Grace said.
“Let it go for a while.”
“Easier said than done,” Grace replied.
“I understand that, but it isn’t going you any good running yourself into the ground. Nor is it helping Reagan. You need to find a calm, Gracie, or you need to let the case go.”
Grace’s head shot up and she glared at Sam. She calmly and with much effort sat her coffee back on the table. Grace hardened her stare thinking that Sam would back down.
“Don’t even dare, O’Shea. We both know you are driven and very dedicated. No one is questioning that, trust me. But, damn it, Grace, you are the most stubborn person I know, after my mother. And, no, this has nothing to do with her. I’m say it, Grace. I’m worried about you. I can tell you haven’t been sleeping. Did even sleep last night? Can you tell me that?”
“No.”
“See, Grace. You need to go home, crawl in bed with Reagan and snuggle for as long as you can. It isn’t fair to her or the case if you can’t do that. If you need a break, take it. I’ll continue working it and you can come back to it anytime.”
“But—“ Grace started.
“Look, I know it won’t be easy. I’ll go talk to Mom about it if you want, but, damn it, Grace, you need some time. Take a vacation. Hell, even a stay-cation. Just let someone else fret over the case for a while. And, before, you try to cut my head off with your butter knife. I’m not saying drop it entirely. Let me take the lead for a while, give yourself a break.”
“Is it that obvious?” Grace asked, breaking down.
“Yeah, Partner, it is.”
Grace hung her head. She knew that Sam was right. She couldn’t even come up with a counter argument. She was defeated and if she didn’t get her head straight, she’d never be able to continue working.
“Deal.”
“Excuse me?” Sam asked, putting down her cup.
“Deal. I’ll give you lead for a while. But, we’ll both go talk to your mom. And, then, I’ll go talk to Reagan.”
“I think you should talk to Reagan, first. You might find it therapeutic. Maybe, it’ll help ease your mind some more. I seem to remember her getting angry about this earlier in a similar situation,” Sam stated.
“You’re right. I’ll talk to Reagan. I’ll call you and then, we’ll talk to your mom. Does that sound better?”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Sam replied.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“More coffee, ladies?” the waitress asked as she neared their table.
“Sure,” Grace answered.
“Another big case, Grace?” the waitress asked as she refilled their coffee.
“You could say that, Mary,” Grace answered.
“Well, you’ll get him. I know you will. Don’t stress about it, too much, kid.”
Sam smiled at the waitress and thanked her for the refill.
“So, I’ve been told,” Grace replied, smirking at Sam.
“It’s good advice. No need to be a stress ball; it’ll complicate more than it helps. Besides, you’ll catch ‘em. No worries,” Mary told her.
“Thanks, Mary.”
“But, hey, while you’re here.”
“What’s wrong?” Grace asked, both she and Sam perked up.
“Well,” Mary started and then looked at Sam.
“Don’t worry about Sam, Mary. She is on my side,” Grace said, “She’s my partner. She’s a sheriff and detective, too.”
“Oh, well, good, then.”
“So, what is it?” Sam asked.
“See the girl in the front corner booth,” Mary stated, nodding her head in the direction of the booth.
“Yeah,” they both replied.
“You might wanna talk to her,” Mary suggested.
“Why’s that?” Sam questioned.
“Something’s not right with her and her home life.”
“Such as?” Grace prodded.
“Don’t know exactly, but that ain’t the first shiner she’s come in her with,” Mary replied.
“Gotcha. We’ll go talk to her. You know her name?” Grace asked.
“Wendy, I think.”
“Thanks, Mary, we’ll look into it,” Sam stated.
“Coffee’s on me. Just see what you can do,” Mary responded.
“Thanks, Mary,” Grace said, putting a five on the table.
They stood to go and acted like they were heading for the door, when Grace changed direction. She reached into her wallet and pulled out a business card. She walked up to the girl’s table and handed it to her. The girl just looked at her quizzically.
“Just in case you need someone to talk to,” Grace told her.
Grace didn’t wait for an answer. She turned around and walked away. She met Sam at the door. Sam gave her a questioning look.
“Come on, Rookie. I’ll explain in the truck. Get the laptop ready.”
Grace didn’t give Sam time to respond. She was in her supped up truck, buckled and ready to go. She waited for Sam to get in, grab the laptop and buckle up.
“Wanna clue me in?” Sam asked.
“That girl has been battered. It’s probably a domestic. She’ll talk in her own time, but first I want to do some research.”
“Research?”
“Yup.”
“On?” Sam questioned.
“We are about to find out her name and address. Might be able to link it to something else. Just give her a minute. She’ll show us,” Grace stated as they pulled out and into an adjacent lot.
She had the laptop out and on. She was logged into the DMV database per Grace’s instructions. She waited. Grace reached behind her seat and felt around. She found what she was looking for and got into her position, scrunching down in the driver’s seat.
“What’s that?”
“My night scope,” Grace answered.
“Night scope? Why do you have a night scope? Never mind, I probably don’t want to know why you have it. Nope, I was wrong, I do. Why do you have it?”
“It’s from my Army days,” Grace replied, nonchalantly.
“Army days?”
“I’ll tell you about that later. Right now, prepare to copy,” Grace said, turning to meet Sam’s questioning gaze. “Get down some. Get ready to take down her tag number.”
“What reason should I enter for running the tag?”
“Suspicious activity.”
“That’s kinda broad, don’t ya think?” Sam inquired.
“Tail light?”
“For real, Grace, for real?”
“Then put in suspect domestic,” Grace commanded.
Sam sighed, but typed something in. She waited for the prompt. Then, she waited on the girl and Grace.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Okay, here we go. Dark green, foreign car, probably a Corolla, tag number is: Whiskey Pete Tango Three Oh Four. Now, let’s see what and/or who she is running from? What’d you get?”
“Wendy Cooper of 145 Shadowridge, Columbia.”
“Check to see if there are any other reports on her.”
“Got one hit,” Sam replied.
“What is it?”
“Wendy nee’ Cooper Wellington of Greenville is granted a divorce from Damien Lee Wellington of Greenville, no contest. Wendy is granted the name change to Wendy Cooper and has asked for nothing but what was hers before the marriage. Mr. Wellington retains the residence, and his vehicle,” Sam read the report to Grace.
“Divorced? Maybe Mr. Wellington didn’t agree very well? I think I’ll call a buddy in Greenville. Maybe, there is more to the story,” Grace replied.
“Seems lik
e it.”
“She isn’t leaving?” Grace asked, perplexed.
“Nope.”
“Wonder what she’s thinking about?”
“Probably the fact that you just gave her your card.”
“Think she’ll call?”
“Don’t they usually?” Sam retorted.
“Yeah, but not for days and weeks.”
“Maybe she knows she doesn’t have that.”
“Think we should do a drive by?” Grace asked.
“Her place? Couldn’t hurt. But, that’s your call, LT.”
“Run Damien’s name through the databases. I want to know if I should be worried about him or her. I don’t like surprises in domestics.”
“What the fuck?!?”
“What?” Grace questioned, immediately worried.
“This guy is an animal.”
“How many charges?”
“For what? Assault? Assault and battery? Attempted Murder? Criminal Domestic? Take your pick.”
“What’s his total?” Grace asked.
“Well until six months ago, he was up to fifteen.”
“Never convicted?”
“She wouldn’t testify.”
“Wow. So, the divorce is six months ago and the calls stop. Thinking what I’m thinking?” Grace questioned.
“He followed her or found her,” Sam replied.
“Yup, so that drive by seems in order. Check to see if she has a restraining order against him. Find out if there are children involved,” Grace stated, pulling out of the parking lot and heading towards Wendy’s registered address.
“Yeah, looks like the judge for the divorce issued one.”
“Terms?” Grace questioned, as she turned her siren on.
“He is not to be within five hundred feet of her for any reason. Doesn’t look like there are any kids involved. What are we gonna do?”
“First, we are going to get there and make sure that he isn’t there. Once we’re there, then I’ll decide,” Grace said, handing Sam her phone, “Dial Detective Jack Morrell for me. I want to know if he can tell me anything else besides the computer.”
Sam found his number in Grace’s contact list and dialed. She waited for him to pick up. After three rings, he did.
“Detective Morrell, how can I help you?” he asked.
“Morrell, this is Sergeant Wannamaker, Lexington County Sheriff’s Office. I’m Lieutenant Grace O’Shea’s partner. We got someone down here you might know about,” Sam told him.
“Whatcha got, Kid?” he replied.
“Put it on speaker,” Grace told Sam.
“I’m gonna put ya on speaker,” Sam told him as she did, “I’ll let Grace explain it to you. She’s driving at the moment.”
“Whatcha got, Colonel?” he asked Grace.
“How are things, First Sarge?” Grace asked, chuckling.
“Can’t complain. Who you after now? What’d they do?” he asked.
“Got a tip about a domestic.”
“From my neck of the woods?”
“Possibly. I ran the plates. My possible vic is from Greenville. She’s fresh divorced and freshly bruised. Was wondering if you could tell me about the ex-husband?”
“Got a name?” he asked.
“Damien Lee Wellington,” Sam answered.
“Shoot ‘em for me, will ya?”
“That bad?” Grace asked.
“He is one sick bastard. I’ve never interviewed someone so smug. He could kill the Pope and tell you someone else did it. He is amazing in his arrogance. I’d’ve nailed his balls to the wall if I could’ve kept him away from his wife long enough to testify.”
“Anything else you wanna tell me? Who was the attempted murder charge on? His wife?” Grace asked.
“Nah, it was one of his wife’s co-workers. Seems Damien didn’t approve of their friendship. After the beating, Wendy and the guy quit. The guy, I can’t remember his name, left the state. Solicitor wouldn’t try the case without him,” Morrell answered.
“So, we either go to the guy or go get him,” Sam stated.
“Wish I knew so I could charge him and get something to stick. We gave him, Wellington that is, a nickname. ‘Teflon’ because it didn’t matter, nothing would stick.”
“Great,” Grace muttered.
“Hey, I know you’re busy checking up on whatever’s he done. Keep me informed. Maybe you can get him to slip. Then, I’ll nail him, too,” Morrell told her.
“Thanks, Man, I will,” Grace replied and Sam hung up.
“So, now what?” Sam asked.
“I really want to get this guy, now,” Grace said.
“But, what if it isn’t him?”
“But, what if it is?” Grace retorted.
“We can’t make it be him.”
“I know that, Sam. I just want her to have peace and justice. That can’t be too much to ask. If it is, why have a police force or a justice system? There has to be something we can do,” Grace stated.
“Well, this will make your day long. Seems like that judge was on our side. If it is him, we can get him. If he’s at her place, that is.”
“What? What aren’t you telling me? What is it?” Grace asked.
“The restraining order is statewide. If he is within five hundred feet of her, regardless of where in the state, home, work or public space, he is in violation. The only provision is public areas where law officers are present, such as government buildings,” Sam told her.
“Good.”
“That it?” Sam asked as they passed the house.
“Yup.”
“You passed it?”
“Yup.”
“Why?” Sam asked.
“Domestics are a little tricky. You can’t treat them like other cases. It can get sticky quickly. That is why everyone hates them,” Grace told her.
“I see. So, what are we going to do? You gonna clue me in?”
“We are going to park down the street and do some surveillance back up the street that just happens to include Wendy Cooper’s house.”
“Gotcha. You wouldn’t happen to have any binocs, would you?” Sam asked and Grace handed her a set, “So, what are we looking for? Anything in particular?”
“Anything that doesn’t seem right,” Grace answered.
They were both looking at the house, Sam thru the binoculars and Grace thru her night scope. Neither of them noticed anything truly out of the ordinary. Then, Sam noticed a glint in the car near Wendy’s house.
“You see that?” she asked Gracie.
“That car and the glint or flash?”
“Yeah, that,” Sam replied.
“Yeah, I saw it. Already focusing in on it. I want to know what it is.”
“Can you see anything? I can’t really. I hate predawn lighting.”
“Yeah, I got it. Do you have enough light to try for a tag number?” Grace asked Sam, “Was that car there when we drove past?”
“I think so, why?”
“I wanna know why they are there,” Grace replied.
“Got a plate.”
Grace put down the scope and grabbed her laptop from Sam. She logged back into the DMV database and waited. She grabbed the scope and peered down the street, again.
“What is it?” she asked Sam.
“Sierra Papa Yankee Three Two Niner,” Sam called out.
“Got it. Running it. Some people are stupid.”
“What?” Sam asked, turning to face Grace as she put down the binoculars.
“It’s a private investigator. He’s from Greenville. How much you wanna bet our good Mr. Damien Wellington hired him?” Grace asked.
“Well, I doubt that Miss Cooper did,” Sam stated.
“Exactly. Now, we are about to go shake things up a bit. You ready?” Grace questioned.
“Ready,” Sam stated, pulling her badge back out of her shirt, so it was visible, hanging from its chain around her neck.
Grace did the same. They both checked their side arms. Grace reach
ed for her door handle.
“You go to the left side. I’ll take the right. Remember that you don’t have armor on, so be extra careful.”
“On three?” Sam asked.
“Three,” Grace answered as she exited.
They both closed their doors as quietly as they could. Grace moved to the left side of the street and Sam to the right. They both signaled each other as they saw a car approach. They both noted its presence, but continued onward towards the private investigator’s car.
The oncoming car came up beside them and started to slow. Grace noticed it was Wendy. She smiled at her and waved her on home. Grace met Sam at the other car. They signaled each other. They rolled around the back of the car. Grace took the driver’s side and Sam the passenger’s.
Grace tapped on the glass with her badge. Sam was already drawn and pointing inside. The PI inside looked spooked.
“Open the window, slowly!” Grace commanded.
He complied. Sam never lost sights on him. She made sure he saw hers.
“Problem officer?”
“Yeah, there is. Got a call about a suspicious vehicle. You got ID?”
He handed Grace his ID.
“So, uh…Mister Fazik, why are you here?” Grace asked.
“I’m doing my job.”
“What exactly is your job?”
“I’m a private investigator.”
“Ah, wanna tell what you’re investigating?” Grace asked.
“That’s privileged information,” he replied.
“Not anymore it’s not. Either you tell me or I’m arresting you and impounding your vehicle for harassment. I’m sure that I can find more charges as well. So, I’ll ask again all friendly like, what are you investigating?”
“Misses Wendy Wellington,” he answered, voice shaking.
“For who?”
“Mister Damien Wellington.”
“Okay, outta the car, now,” Grace replied, pissed.
“What did I do?” Fazik asked.
“Get out of the car!”
Sam could hear the edge in Grace’s voice. She couldn’t tell how close Grace was to losing it on this guy. So, she stepped around to the front of the car but still at an angle so she had a better view of Fazik and of Grace as well. Grace saw the shift and noted it. The street was not the place to play “good cop/bad cop” with a witness.
Grace realized she had to rein it back. She knew that Fazik wasn’t Wellington. He just worked for him. Grace had to let Sam know she got the hint.
