Honorable Death

by Linda S. Prather

  Dave chuckled. “I don’t think Melanie is the only one who used to watch old detective movies.”

  I parked behind Stevens’s car. “I preferred the gangster movies. They had a way of getting things done.” I nodded to where Stevens was climbing out of his vehicle. “Our bodyguard looks a little pissed off.”

  “Language, Kacy.”

  “When I saw you lying there after the car exploded, I almost told God if he’d let you live, I’d clean up my trashy mouth.”

  “What happened?”

  I opened my door. “I didn’t figure it was a good idea to lie to God the first time I prayed.”

  “Where the hell have you two been? I’ve been calling for hours.”

  “We had dinner with friends.” I climbed the steps and unlocked the door. “Have you been waiting long?”

  “Two freaking hours. I was supposed to be your partner.”

  “Bodyguard, Stevens. Dave is my partner. You’ve got a key.” I shoved open the door and entered. “If you’re hungry, there’s a lovely roast beef meal in the refrigerator.” I hung up my coat and kicked off my shoes.

  “What crawled up her butt and died?”

  “Jesus, I’m surrounded by gutter mouths.” Dave followed me in. “What did you find out about Crimson?”

  “Not much more than you found out at the ME’s. You could have told me you went there and saved me a trip.”

  “Coffee anyone?” I smiled at Stevens. “Where would be the fun in telling you what we already had?”

  “I’ll take a coffee.” Dave hung up his coat and followed me to the kitchen, with Stevens on his heels. “Did you talk to any of the girls downtown?”

  “A couple. They said she was standoffish and didn’t mix with the rest of them. Usually went after the gang leaders or drug runners.”

  “That’s strange.” I measured out the coffee and poured in water. “Can’t be a lot of money in that. Protection, maybe?”

  Stevens was calming down, and he took a seat at the table. “Odd way to get protection. I think there’s something else behind it. Did you get anything from the gang leaders?”

  It was in the report, or it would be. “Lenglases told us my brother was involved in slave trade, loan sharking, and black-market baby sales.”

  “Shew. Businesses that get you killed if you pi…” Stevens glanced at Dave. “Tick off the wrong person. Any idea who he was working for?”

  I’d been wrong about Kyle, and I hoped I was wrong about Stevens, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up. “No names, but we talked to a CI today who is arranging a meeting for us tomorrow with a guy who says he knows what the killers were looking for. Odds are if he knows what they’re looking for, he also knows who they are. We’ll have to persuade him to give us the information.” I plopped three cups on the counter. “One way or the other.”

  “I thought we were going to keep that information quiet?” Dave said. “Word leaks out, and this guy will be in the wind. And we’ll be right back where we started from.”

  “Chill out, Capello. It’s Stevens. He’s on our side, remember?” I winked at Stevens. “We don’t want Park or anyone else to know what we’re doing until we see if it pans out. Especially if we have to break a few bones to get what we’re looking for.” I poured the coffee and set a cup in front of Dave and one in front of Stevens. “The department frowns on that kind of thing, but occasionally, it’s necessary.”

  “You’re planning on torturing this guy to get what you want?”

  Stevens’s complexion had turned a little gray. I sipped my coffee and smiled at him over the rim. “Hopefully not necessary, but sometimes it’s the only way.”

  “Have you thought about what happens afterwards when he tells what you did to him?”

  “Of course. If it goes that far, then we’ll make sure he doesn’t tell anyone.” I was afraid to look at Dave. If he did one of his Three Stooges antics, I would never be able to keep a straight face. “We can count on you, can’t we, Greg?”

  “Not for this.” Stevens finished his coffee and rose. “Not for torture and murder. That’s not why I became a cop. I’ll keep your secret, but I sure as hell won’t be part of it. I’m going home.” Seconds later, the front door slammed.

  “Laid it on a little thick, didn’t you, kid?”

  “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

  “He said he’d keep our secret. Sounds like he’s clear.” Dave pushed back his chair and headed to the refrigerator. “Where’d you stuff the roast beef? Hate to see it go to waste.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Stevens arrived promptly at six thirty the next morning, back in full uniform. “I’ll follow you two into the station and then have the commander reassign me back to regular duty.”

  Dave gave me one of those sad-puppy-dog looks, as if I didn’t have enough to feel guilty about. Stevens wanted to be a detective. A word from Dave and me would go a long way in getting him there. “My arm is bothering me today, and we were wondering if you’d mind driving us.”

  “I won’t be part of what you talked about last night.”

  “Plan didn’t pan out. I guess the guy was more jittery than we thought. He took off. If Commander Park will approve it, we’ve got a loan shark we’d like to put some pressure on if you’re up for it.”

  Stevens smiled. “That, I’m up for.”

  The drive into the station was pleasant, and I let Dave and Stevens make small talk while I sorted out my thoughts. Charles and Melanie were on their way to Tokyo under the guise of visiting a children’s hospital there for a possible addition. Melanie would search local databases for information related to Yoshekita Saito and birth records in the last four years for a daughter born to her. We were on our sixth day and no closer to finding the truth than we had been on day one.

  “What do you think, Kacy?” Dave asked.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

  “Stevens’s twin brother works for the feds. Big shot in the FBI.”

  “That’s nice.”

  Dave threw his hands up in the air, and Stevens shot me a worried glance. “Your arm hurting that bad?”

  “Cut me some slack. My brother was murdered, along with his girlfriend and best friend. A friend of mine was almost murdered, and we lost a good officer who left behind a widow and baby son. I’ve got bigger things on my mind than small talk.”

  Stevens parked in the station lot. “What say we go talk to the commander, get a warrant for this loan shark, and let you take your anger out on him?”

  Dave leaned forward in the seat. “We’ll meet you inside. I need a minute alone with my partner.”

  Stevens nodded and exited the car. “Don’t forget to lock up.”

  “You need to let it go, kid. All that guilt, anger, and hate you’re carrying around inside is gonna eat you alive.”

  “I’m fine, Dave.”

  “Yeah, and I’ll only eat one meal today. We stumbled onto something big, Kacy. Even if we find those lists Kyle took, if that’s what he took, what do we do with them?” Dave’s voice lowered. “If we live long enough to do anything.”

  Of all the people I’d expected to quit on me, Dave wasn’t one of them. Most anger had an underlying component of pain. The excruciating pain of the knife you’ve been stabbed with being slowly removed one fraction of an inch at a time. That pain had been with me all my life, long before Kyle’s murder. I had one thing to live for—finding Kyle’s daughter and making sure she was safe. I reached for the door. “You can quit any damn time you want to. I’m not turning this over to the feds.”

  Dave was out of the car and blocking my path before I took three steps. “Nobody said anything about quitting, and you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

  “Get out of my way, Capello.”

  “Not happening, Lang. Not until you listen to what I have to say.”

  “Talk! All we’ve done is talk.” I shoved him. “People are dying, and I’m fucking tired of talking.”

&nb
sp; A crowd was gathering, and Dave’s slack jaw was now rock hard, his eyes tiny pinpoints of pure rage. I hadn’t used the F-word in four and a half years. I’d learned early on it was the one word Dave wouldn’t tolerate. Deep down inside, I knew that was exactly why I’d used it.

  The knife cut deeper, the pain taking my breath as he turned his back. “Find yourself another partner.”

  Pain is a funny thing. It twists your guts into knots and tears your soul asunder. But the one common denominator between anger and pain is the need to strike back. An insatiable desire to hurt someone else the way you’re hurting. Shock sets in. A chemical override occurs in the brain, and common sense disappears. It’s during those times people say the words they can never take back and do the things they’ll regret the rest of their life. I caught up with Dave at the station door, jerked off my badge, pulled out my gun, and shoved them in his hands. “I don’t need a partner. I quit.”

  The crowd was silent, and shock carried me across the parking lot and up the street before the magnitude of what I’d done hit. It’s better this way. Kurt can’t use Dave as a threat against me if he thinks I hate him. I made it three blocks before I noticed the patrol car following me.

  “Get in, and I’ll take you home.” Stevens rolled up beside me, the passenger window down.

  “Forget it, Stevens. I’m not in the mood.” I kept walking, the car moving beside me at the same speed.

  “If you want to screw up your own life, Kacy, that’s fine, but Dave Capello is a good man and a damned good detective. You’re screwing up his life too.”

  “He’ll be better off without me. He can get a partner this time that doesn’t cuss like a sailor.”

  Stevens maneuvered the car on to the sidewalk blocking my path. “He might have, but he quit.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The throbbing in my chest hit with a vengeance, constricting airway passages. I tried to breathe and count to ten, but instead, I dropped to my knees, beads of cold sweat on my forehead. Stevens was by my side in seconds, reaching for his radio and stretching me out on the sidewalk.

  I gasped for breath and grabbed for his hand. “Dave,” was all I could manage as dizziness caused the earth to spin. Light around me was fading. Any minute now, he’ll nail the lid on the coffin. I could hear his voice as the first shovel of dirt hit the wooden box. Ninety-nine shovels of dirt in the grave…

  “Capello.”

  “It’s Stevens. Kacy’s down and can’t breathe.”

  “Calm down, Stevens. Sit her up, put her head between her knees, and talk to her. She’s having a panic attack.”

  Strong arms lifted me and bent me forward. “Talk to her about what? Come on, Kacy. Damn it, breathe!”

  “It doesn’t matter what. Tell her about your dog, your funniest date, your mother. Just talk to her.”

  Stevens was on the ground beside me, an arm around my waist. “I’ve got this little shih tzu at home that rules the house. He’s black and white, and until a few weeks ago, I didn’t think he could bark. Scared the shit out of me the first time he headed to the door, growling and barking. I grabbed my gun and jerked the door open. Almost killed the neighbor’s cat lounging on my windowsill.”

  I drew in a shuddering breath as Stevens continued to drone.

  “He wasn’t my first pick. I’ve got this thing about runts, and there was this tiny mutt that could hardly walk but kept trying to keep up with his brothers and sisters. I was about to take him when this little guy comes up, grins, and climbs in my lap like that’s where he’s always belonged. He smiled all the way home and fit right in. He still smiles every time I come home.”

  The pain was subsiding, and I could finally take a deep breath. “What’s his name?”

  “Who?”

  “Your dog.” I managed to sit up.

  “Oh, my mother named him Popcorn.”

  “Dumbest name for a dog I’ve ever heard.” I struggled to get to my feet, and Stevens lifted me.

  “He bounces, runs, bounces some more, and then stops dead in his tracks, lays down and goes to sleep. Kind of like what you get when you’re popping popcorn. You know, pop, pop, pop, then nothing.” He peered into my face then dusted the snow off my backside. “You okay now?”

  “Fine.” I wasn’t fine, but embarrassment had taken the place of panic. Dave and the psychiatrist were the only ones who’d ever witnessed the severity of my panic attacks. The psychiatrist’s answer was to breathe deeply and count to ten. It didn’t work, and once again, Dave had saved my life. “Thank you. And tell Dave I said thank you when you talk to him.”

  A cruiser stopped, and Dave climbed out. “You’re welcome.”

  He’d stayed on the line, listening to every word. Six days of lack of sleep, grief, anger, frustration, and fear culminated into sobs that tore through me like bullets. Dave pulled me into his arms, a hand on my head holding me against his shoulder as he patted my back. “It’s okay, kid. I got you.”

  Those were the same words he’d said two years ago when he lifted me from that coffin, barely alive. He’d talked then in a soft voice while we waited for the ambulance, patting my back with his bruised and bloody hands. It wasn’t until later I found out he’d dug me up with his bare hands. Partners like Dave were hard to find, and I’d almost thrown it away.

  The sobs were dissipating, and Dave passed me his handkerchief. “Blow your nose. You’re getting snot all over my suit.”

  “I’m sorry, Dave. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “I do. Even the strongest branches break under pressure. Forget it, kid. Park has already put a shoe up my butt, and when you’re done, he’s waiting to kick your ass.”

  “You two gonna be okay?” Stevens had stepped away but joined us as I wiped my face and blew my nose.

  I nodded. “I think we’re better than okay.”

  He slapped Dave on the back. “I’ll meet you back at the station. Want me to clue Park in on the loan shark and tell him you’re on your way?”

  Dave glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. “Do we?”

  “Dave and I need a few minutes to talk. How long would it take you to set up a meeting with your brother?”

  “Depends on what you’re talking about.”

  Dave nodded giving me the go ahead. “Black-market baby sales and slave trade.”

  Stevens let out a huge ‘whoosh’ of air. “Is that why you guys put me through the wringer last night?”

  “We had to know we could trust you with anything.” I sniffled and blew my nose again. “You passed.”

  “I can get him here tonight.”

  “Keep it low-key and don’t offer more than you have to on the phone. We don’t know who’s watching us,” Dave said. “And keep Park out of the loop until we talk to your brother.”

  I jotted down a name and address. “That’s our first loan shark. If Park can get a warrant, we should be able to handle it ourselves.”

  Dave and I stood side by side watching as Stevens drove away. “He’s a good kid. I think he’s got a crush on you.”

  “We should go, and I don’t date cops. Besides, he named his dog Popcorn. Who the hell names a dog Popcorn?” I headed for the driver’s seat of the cruiser. “I’m driving. I can’t believe they let you have a car with that head wound.”

  “Who said they let me?” Dave grinned and threw me the keys. “You owe me breakfast.”

  “You stole a police cruiser?” I climbed in, adjusted the seat, and started the car. “What were you thinking?”

  Dave’s face turned serious, and his voice cracked a little with emotion. “I was thinking my partner needed me. I prefer to think of it as borrowed without permission.” He turned to stare out the window. “Teach that young pup not to leave his keys in the car.”

  There were a thousand things I needed to say to Dave, but all I could manage around the lump in my throat was, “I’m sorry.”

  “You gonna sit here and blubber all day, or are you gonna buy me breakfast?”
<
br />   “Gravy and biscuits at Arlene’s?”

  “Nah, pancakes and bacon at Micky’s.”

  Pancakes? The idea had my stomach doing flip-flops. “Micky’s it is then.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Kicking my ass was mild compared to the berating I took from Park before he handed back my badge and weapon. “If you need time off, Lang, you ask for it. You pull a stunt like this again, and you can kiss your badge goodbye.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Even a good detective with high case-solving stats has to eat a little crow occasionally. “It won’t happen again, sir.”

  “It better not.” Park picked up a sticky note. “You had a call from a Fabian Marcone this morning. Who is he?”

  “Lenglases’s lawyer, sir.”

  He passed me the note. “Officer Moore’s funeral is set for tomorrow at one. I’d like to give his wife the comfort of knowing we have some clue of who killed him.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Park sighed and shook his head. “I wish I could count on this new you lasting more than a day, but I think we both know you’ll be back to cursing me behind my back before the week is up. Stevens has your warrant. Get out there and turn up the heat.”

  I grinned, the note hot in my hand as I placed my feet together, stood up straight, and saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  Dave and Stevens were waiting for me in the outer office. “We may have a hit.” I waved the note in the air. “Marcone called.”

  “Why did he call the station?” Stevens asked, glancing at the note. “Wouldn’t he normally have called you on your cell?”

  “Greg has a point. Your business card has your cell number first, then the station number.” Dave raised an eyebrow. “Shame there’s no pay phones anymore.”

  “Marcone is intelligent, and overall, I’d say dangerous. He may suspect my cell has been comprised, or he knows my cell has been compromised. Either way, we’ll return the call from a safe phone.” I headed down the hallway to Sims and Gardner’s office. “I can’t think of a safer place than this. Keep an eye out and let me know if you see them headed our way.”