A Dangerous and Cunning Woman

by Ethan Johnson

  Had, she reminded herself, along with any hope she had of being released, let alone exonerated. Kenner had stuck up for her in the past, but this was different. She didn’t blame him for keeping his distance. Why would he stick up for a cop killer? Her best hope was to be sentenced to hard labor. She found herself becoming increasingly numb to the prospect of the more likely outcome: death by firing squad.

  Sapphire had visited her one day and gave her a book to read. It was a thick hardcover that covered the history of modern law enforcement. Had it been any other time, in any other place, she would have set it aside and never given it a second look. Now she had ample amounts of idle time to fill in her cell. She picked it up from the floor beside her cot and paced back and forth as she flipped the book open to a random spot. A section was titled TO PROTECT AND SERVE BUSINESS.

  Diane propped up the book and found her eyes glazing over as she read about how the police force began to be used as a tool to serve moneyed interests, not the general population. Businesses were given preference when officers were summoned to respond to an emergency call. Punishments for various crimes were harsher when commerce was affected as well. Capital punishment was the most severe of all, and she read about the use of firing squads decades ago, which eventually gave way to lethal injections. She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or horrified that the force was bringing back an old method of execution just for her.

  Her ribs ached, and she struggled to hold the book up. It fell noisily on the floor and the spine cracked. A few pages slipped free of their binding. Diane swore and collected them up, grimacing as she bent over. She gathered up the pages and stuffed them into the center of the book. She wasn’t in the mood to put it back together correctly. After she cleaned up the last stray page, she gasped at the sight of a small piece of paper that laid face-down on the floor. She could see writing bleeding through from the front.

  She set the book on the floor and snapped up the note. She hoped it was a smuggled letter from Lyssa. Sapphire didn’t seem thrilled with their relationship, but she didn’t interfere with it either. Maybe she took pity on them both and found a way to unite them in some small way, she hoped.

  Diane frowned at the note. Instead of a passionate love letter, it was a single word in black lettering: STUDY.

  She looked it over, unsure of its origin. It wasn’t Lyssa’s handwriting. It was much too neat. Sapphire’s was more legible but even this didn’t seem to match her usual script. She balled it up between her fingers and thumb and tossed it over her shoulder. She figured it was probably some cadet from a bygone era that had stuck that note in the book as a reminder to himself. The note seemed fresh, but solitary confinement had a way of messing with her head, she reminded herself. The cadet was the likely culprit. It was a man, and he probably wrote little prompts for all sorts of things: EAT. DRESS. POOP.

  Diane laughed to herself at the thought. Men were such simple creatures, when it came right down to it.

  The door clanked, and a guard pulled the door open. “Visitor. Five minutes.”

  Diane sucked in a breath with anticipation. Had Lyssa finally come to see her? She didn’t dare make any assumptions. Her face fell when Gabe Hinajosa stepped into her cell.

  “Hey, Diana,” he said, clutching his hat.

  “Oh. It’s you,” she said, and sat down sullenly on her cot.

  “Is this a bad time?”

  Simple creatures, alright, she thought. She resisted the urge to unload on him with a smart remark. No, Gabe, everything’s just peachy. How’s your mother? See the game last night? She had few visitors and fewer allies. She decided to make the best of it and chose her words carefully before speaking.

  “Um, no, what’s up?”

  “I heard about Tanner.”

  Diane couldn’t suppress a sneer. “Just now? Today? This minute?”

  “No, I mean… well, people are talking a lot of crap about you, and I don’t think it’s true. Well, most of it. I mean, you did kill Tanner. The guys are pissed. They’re lining up to be in the firing squad.”

  “Are you going to be in the middle, or off to one side, or…?”

  “No, I’m not about that. I don’t have much time. Let me say what I came to say, then I’ll leave you alone.”

  Alone. Diane felt hollow at the sound of the word. She had been his girlfriend once, in a past life. She wasn’t much of a girlfriend, she recalled, but he wasn’t much of a boyfriend either. He was worse, she thought. He committed to joining the force only to up and leave her the second he had an out. He returned and attended the next academy, becoming one of Griggs’s toadies. Diane couldn’t stand the sight of him. But as she told Sapphire once before, he could be useful. Perhaps, she thought, now was the time.

  “Okay, Gabe. I’m all ears.”

  He took a deep breath and looked at his shoes. “Listen, I was a huge ass. I told you I wanted to make things up to you, and I meant it then, and I mean it now. Anything I can do for you, I’ll do it. I screwed up bad. I might never pay for what I did. But I want to try. I want you to let me make things right.”

  Diane felt her heart soften for an instant at the sight of a tear splashing the toe of his highly polished dress shoe. “Okay, Gabe, you can make it up to me.”

  He looked up, startled. “R-really? How?”

  “I need you to deliver a message to somebody.”

  “S-sure. Whatever you say. What message?”

  “4251 Oak Barn Terrace.”

  Gabe nodded, then cocked his head. “Okay, and who am I telling?”

  “That’s the address. Say it with me. Remember.” Gabe repeated the address three times. Diane nodded and gestured for him to lean close to her mouth. He licked his lips and did as he was told. She whispered the message to him. A guard entered the cell and pulled Gabe away from her as she finished. “Got it?”

  “Yeah,” Gabe said softly as he was ushered out of the cell. “Loud and clear.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Time slowed to a crawl as Diane languished in her cell. She focused on healing up from her beatings. True to his word, nobody else laid a hand on her after Griggs walked in on Officer Gilbert preparing to pee on her head. She scrunched up her face at the memory. She consoled herself with revenge fantasies. He’d taken his best shot, or tried to, anyway. If there was a shred of justice in the world, she thought, she’d take hers.

  She looked up at the light fixtures embedded in the ceiling. Her cell didn’t have a mirror, just a piece of polished metal that provided a fuzzy glimpse of her diminishing form. She was going soft. The guards took her out of her cell occasionally to exercise, but her ribs were too sore to engage in any sort of physical exertion. She recalled the sound of Gilbert’s zipper opening. She gave the ceiling a hard stare and felt her heartbeat accelerate.

  She rolled off her cot onto the cold floor. She grasped her rib cage, then forced herself to lay flat on her stomach. She pushed herself up from the floor, then dipped down, touching the tip of her nose to the concrete, then back up into ready position. “One,” she hissed.

  Twenty push-ups were all she could manage before she collapsed to the floor, lightheaded from jolts of pain that tore through her chest. She felt the cold concrete against her cheek and enjoyed the sensation. She controlled her breathing and gritted her teeth. She forced herself up for twenty more push-ups.

  She immediately rolled onto her back and began doing sit-ups. Her ribs radiated a dull ache as her abdominal muscles protested the new development. She clasped her fingers behind her sweat-soaked head and counted out each rep under her breath. “One, freedom. Two, Gilbert. Three, Lyssa. Four, bonus. Five, Goodwin.”

  As she exercised, she imagined life beyond her cell. Her fate was Kenner’s to decide. Someone was setting her up, that much she knew. Was it Griggs? Goodwin? Gilbert? Did everyone with a “g” last name have it in for her? They could dish it out. She could take it. She turned her thoughts to Kenner. Let him pass judgment. She knew the truth. She had to be ready. She
wasn’t going to be a scared, soft girl when judgment day came. Weakness meant they won. She wasn’t letting them win.

  She thought about Alexa Charlevoix. She hadn’t seen her stories in weeks. What was Alexa doing? Who was her mysterious rival? Lyssa had taught her about the backstory of the major characters. She ran through the list of potential suspects and came up empty.

  Goodwin, she thought. They’re pushing for Goodwin to be the favorite. They want me out of the way, so he can rise to the top. If he wants to be the best, he’ll have to beat the best. Let me out of here, and I’ll show you. I’ll show all… of… you.

  She laid on her back, exhausted. Her vision went fuzzy and for once, the room went dark.

  Diane awoke to find a woman crouching beside her. She saw long brown hair pulled into a ponytail and felt a thrill that Lyssa was finally at her side. “I missed you so much,” she said, reaching up to pull her close.

  The blue-garbed medic grabbed her wrist and forced her arm down. “Whoa there, hold still for me.”

  Diane looked down and saw an IV tube protruding from her left hand. She looked from side to side and saw two guards standing warily at her cell door. “What happened? What are you doing?”

  The medic squeezed her wrist and checked her watch. After a few moments of silence, the medic nodded and let go. “65. Not bad. Respiration normal. I’m still pushing fluids. Let’s keep this needle where it belongs, huh?” She patted Diane’s hand and rooted around in her medkit for something.

  “Why are you here?”

  “To be honest, hon, I have no idea. The guards found you passed out on the floor. You’re dehydrated, that’s for sure.” She leaned in and whispered into Diane’s ear. “If they’ve been withholding food and water from you, blink twice.” Diane blinked once. The medic frowned and shrugged as she pulled away. “Make sure she’s getting enough fluids,” she said to the guards.

  “I’ve got some fluids for her,” one guard muttered to the other.

  “Naw, the medic’s the hotter one. Just give me five minutes.”

  Diane grimaced at their assessment. The medic seemed to be unaware of their comments, or did a good job pretending she hadn’t heard them.

  As soon as the IV bag was empty, the medic removed the needle from her hand and pressed a wad of gauze against the puncture site for a moment, then taped it down. “Take it easy for the next few days. Get those fluids up.”

  Diane wagged her chin toward the overhead lights. “It’s hard to track time here, but I’ll do my best.”

  The medic nodded and pressed a stethoscope against her back. This allowed her to whisper into Diane’s ear once more and avoid suspicion from the guards. “My uncle was held hostage in Syria. Long stretches of solitary. He told me routine was everything back then.”

  “I have a routine. It’s called sit here and rot,” Diane whispered.

  “See if you can’t come up with something else. Trust me on this. I don’t care how tough you act; your brain isn’t wired to handle long-term solitary confinement. Find a way to stick to a routine. Remember how it was on the outside. That’s a start.” Her voice rose. “68. Looks like my job is done here.” She set about packing up her medkit.

  Diane tried to imagine her life before confinement. She remembered Lyssa, but just in fits and starts; usually fantasies about running across the parking lot into her arms and twirling around. She glanced up at the persistent overhead lights and nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll just be sitting here, turning to mush.”

  The medic slung her medkit over her shoulder and gave the command to be released from Diane’s cell. The door swung open quickly, then slammed shut the instant she cleared out. Diane listened to her footsteps fade down the hallway before another door clanked open and shut.

  She finished a 10-count under her breath and worked on the details of her escape plan. She’d overpower the guards to get out of her cell, then she’d get to the next door. How would she pass through it? She’d shoot her way out. With what gun? She’d steal one from the guards. What if there’s nothing to shoot? She’d find something. This place wasn’t going to hold her once she had the physical and mental strength to break free. That much she knew. She just needed more details about what lay beyond her cell door.

  Days later–or so Diane thought–she heard a loud clank in the distance and a pair of heavy footsteps. Voices sounded outside of her cell. A key turned, and a bolt slid. The door opened, and two men forced Diane face-down onto the floor. They pulled her arms behind her back and applied cuffs, then slapped leg irons onto each ankle. They hoisted her to a standing position and frog-marched her out of her cell.

  She looked up at the men. “Where are you taking me?”

  “The prisoner does not speak unless ordered,” said one.

  Diane tried to drag her feet and slow the men down, but they lifted her higher and carried her to the security door. The other one barked a command and a buzzer sounded. The door slid open automatically and slammed shut behind them once they were through. Diane saw a door marked INTERROGATION and expected to be turned toward it. Instead, the men carried her down the hall to another room with a door marked simply CONFERENCE.

  Diane was marched to the front of the room. Before her was a wide metal table. First Lieutenant Kenner sat in the center chair, flanked by Lieutenant Griggs on one side and Chief Detective Bradford on the other. Diane stood on the other side of the table, guarded by the two men who had escorted her from her cell.

  The door closed behind her, and Kenner cleared his throat. He patted a stack of folders and gave Diane a solemn stare. “Officer Pembrook: you are charged with murder in the first degree. Command review has concluded on your case, and we are prepared to pass a verdict. Before we do, I will first advise you that this charge carries a maximum penalty of death by firing squad. Second, you may make a statement to this board with the understanding that it will have no bearing on your sentence. Understood?”

  Diane nodded. “Yes, sir,” she squeaked. Her throat was bone dry.

  “Bradford, do you wish to address the officer?”

  Diane had never seen the chief detective up close before. He was a bald man with bushy eyebrows. As with Kenner and Griggs, he was decked out in dress blues for the hearing. Diane thought he looked like a ship captain.

  “Detective Tanner was one of my best men. I’d trust him with my life. Now he’s gone, and all the reviews and firing squads in the world won’t bring him back. You, Diane Pembrook, are a disgrace to the uniform. To hell with you, if only the devil would have you.”

  Kenner coughed. “Anything else?”

  Bradford shook his head. “I’m done with her.”

  “Fine. Griggs?”

  Lieutenant Griggs was looking especially oily. His pencil mustache widened under his nose as he gave her a toothy grin. “I’ll merely say this day has been too long in coming. You were my worst student. I’ve already forgotten you.”

  Diane felt her blood boil. She wanted to lash out at him verbally, if not physically, but she didn’t see the point in it. He had won. She focused on Kenner to ignore the smug look on Griggs’s face.

  “Anything else?” Kenner barely turned his head when he asked.

  “Not a thing,” Griggs said.

  “Fine. The verdict will be now read.” Diane was held upright by her escorts. “Diane May Pembrook, you have been found…”

  Diane felt her stomach drop as she heard his fateful words. Her brain completed the sentence and a jolt of sheer fright surged through her as the words “guilty as charged’” and “shall be put to death by firing squad” filled her head. Her knees buckled, and the room started spinning. Lyssa’s voice screamed from a faraway place, begging her not to leave her all alone.

  Griggs stood abruptly and pounded the table with a tightly clenched fist. “Are you completely insane? On what logical basis can you have arrived at any other verdict but guilty as charged?”

  Bradford rubbed his forehead in disbelief. “You traitor. That�
�s what this is. You’re a traitor. You’re both traitors.”

  Diane fell to the floor as her escorts leapt across the table to prevent Bradford from firing a round into Kenner’s head. The gun discharged, and a bullet whizzed over his head. The men wrestled Bradford to the ground and subdued him with punishing blows to his jaw.

  Griggs was red-faced. “I’ll have your badge for this, Kenner. I’ll have you busted down to rank cadet, and I will expel you from the division personally.”

  Diane struggled to kneel. “What just happened?”

  Sapphire crouched down behind her and removed her cuffs. “Weren’t you listening? He just said you were acquitted and restored to active duty.”

  Bradford was cuffed by Diane’s escorts and forced upright. Kenner plucked his badge from his belt and tossed it aside. “Far be it for me to engage in playground taunts, Bradford, but it takes one to know one. Now that the Pembrook matter is settled, let’s take a look at Detective Kyle Tanner, shall we? Sorrellis, start the show.”

  Sapphire pointed a cylindrical device at a bare wall and Diane watched a rectangle of light appear, then display an array of photos and statistics. Kenner rose from his seat and stepped over to the display. “The man we knew as Tanner went by several aliases. Before he infiltrated our ranks, he was simply known as ‘Dakota’. He had quite a few skills in his arsenal, the least of which being demolitions.” He tapped his finger on a grainy surveillance video of two men packing something into the corners of a stairwell, then stringing wires. One man turned to the camera and nearly everyone in the room gasped at the sight of Tanner dressed as a maintenance worker. Another man stepped down from the ladder and looked squarely into the camera: Bradford.

  “Of course, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, Montana.”

  The video showed the men exiting a steel-and-glass building through the lobby doors, dressed in street clothes. A time-lapse of the building showed panes of glass shatter in all directions shortly after a mass evacuation. A blonde woman was pinned under a desk that fell from one of the upper floors. “Arbor Day,” Diane said gravely.