Property Damage
Page 15
“You’re asking how my clients are paying my fees? That’s really none of your concern, Officer Larsen.”
I lowered my chin and shot him a hard stare.
He held the glare for a long second, before relenting with a loud sigh. “But if you really must know, my time is being fully compensated through a legal defense fund. It’s a fairly new philanthropic initiative, one designed to provide support to disadvantaged young men in times of personal crisis. I’ve been with this program since its inception, offering my services at a steep discount for the betterment of our community.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, aren’t you just a regular saint.” I tried to recall the recent headlines I’d seen, but couldn’t remember reading any stories about do-gooders with too much money to burn. “So who’s the bankroll behind this little charity of yours?”
The lawyer stole a glance at his watch, a gesture designed to remind me just how valuable his time was. “Right now it’s being funded entirely through the Regan Real Estate charitable trust, though I did hear Mr. Regan say that he’s hoping to bring on additional donors very soon.” He leaned in close, lowering his voice down to that soft, conspiratorial tone that lawyers always use when they want to act like they’re letting you in on some kind of big secret. “And just between us, I’ve also heard that Duke Regan is planning to throw his hat in the ring during next year’s elections. If Mr. Regan wins a seat on the city council, he should be able to make his voice heard whenever promotion opportunities arise at your department.”
I stood there, impassive, digesting all the possible meanings behind his message. I naturally began wondering just how much our lieutenants and captains were earning, but in any case, I seriously doubted that a larger paycheck would be worth all the headaches that were sure to come with it.
“So what about it?” Mr. Rantowles asked again. “You don’t happen to know any ambitious young officers, do you? Anybody who might be interested in pinning a shiny new set of lieutenant’s bars on his shirt collar?”
I pondered his words for another long moment, then shoved roughly past towards the exit. “Fuck that shit” I called back over my shoulder. “But you know what, why don’t you go ahead and float that offer to some of the cops hanging around the station? Look out, though—you’re liable to get trampled in the stampede!”
Outside, the cool air felt refreshing against my bare arms. I stood there in the parking lot for a few minutes, just collecting my thoughts after that strange conversation. I wasn’t entirely certain if Regan’s henchman had just offered me some kind of bribe, but after careful consideration, I did my best to put the matter out of my mind entirely. Even if I’d had either the time or the inclination to dig a little deeper, Rantowles’ words had been vague enough that nobody would have believed it. In any case, I had more important matters on my mind.
As the clouds piled up overhead, I strolled back over to my cruiser, cranked the engine and popped the old car into gear. I fished for my cell phone as I drifted towards Rivers Avenue, hammering out a quick text message while weaving between the lanes. “Just finished up here” I typed, mashing in one letter at a time. “U free 2nite?”
Katie’s response came back in seconds, almost as if she’d been holding her phone and waiting to hear from me. As I stopped at the first light and read her message, a glow of contentment began warming my soul. “5:00. Our place.” she’d written, ever the romantic. “My treat.”
I couldn’t hold back a smile, and my heart fluttered at the very mention of the Great Wall Chinese Buffet. Moving almost subconsciously, I reached down to give my pocket a gentle pat, checking that the little velvet jewelry box was tucked safely away inside. I never would’ve been able to afford such a flashy engagement ring on my own, but thankfully, Mother Nature had hooked me up. All it’d taken was a short walk down to the Zales jewelry store on Saturday, and then a few minutes spent fumbling against that chintzy lock on the diamond case. Even though I had no idea about Katie’s ring size, I’d held her chubby hands often enough to know that I should err on the larger side.
Life sure is funny sometimes, I thought, pointing the car back towards home. I had a smorgasbord of free food in my immediate future, as well as the prospect of building a future with a mostly tolerable woman. There was an entire freezer full of Thanksgiving turkeys waiting at home, and for once in my life, I’d gotten all my Christmas shopping finished before December. Work wise, the Charleston Police Department would soon have a new Chief, and even though that was still a big question mark, whoever got chosen couldn’t possibly be any worse than our last one. As for me, I’d just cracked a huge case, one which would almost certainly put me back in Jughead’s good graces... whenever the guy bothered to show up for work again. All told, it looked like I might have a free pass to skate through the rest of the year, at least.
As usual, Big Jim Cobb had been a hundred percent correct. Hurricane Tradd had turned out to be one of the highlights of my law enforcement career... and what’s more, I actually found myself looking forward to the next storm.
About the author:
James Vachowski works as a security manager for an independent traveling circus, where he strives to ensure that your next ride on the Cyclone is in full compliance with most, if not all, applicable state safety regulations. When he’s not living his dream of seeing the great people of this great country from the parking lots of local shopping malls and Moose lodges, he writes fiction.
You can follow James’ travels, hobbies and writing at his website, www.jamesvachowski.com. If you’ve enjoyed reading any of his books, please take a moment to leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads.