Toby fell faster and faster toward the floor. “Help me!” he heard himself scream.
Mitchell smiled confidently up at him. “Toby, I’ve got…”
…you,” Mitchell told him as he jerked awake.
As he felt himself being pulled gently up against the friend who lay beside him, Toby gasped for breath, “I… was falling.”
Mitchell pulled him closer and said, “It’s okay, Toby. I’ve got you – safe and sound. Now, go back to sleep.”
Toby closed his eyes again, and slept.
The next morning as he was pouring them both a cup of coffee, Toby said, “Mitchell, I think I know what I need to do.”
Mitchell took the offered cup. “What’s that?”
Toby told him and Mitchell stared into his face and into the pale blue eyes without saying a word. Then he tightened his jaw and put down the cup. “We’d better call Detective Reightman,” he said. “She’s not going to like this.”
“I know,” Toby said. “But she’ll agree. We’re running out of options – everything else has failed.”
“She might agree, Toby, but she’s still not going to like it.”
Toby lifted his cup to his lips but quickly set it down. A tiny drop of coffee sloshed over the rim – jostled by his trembling hand. “I’m scared,” he whispered.
“Me, too, Toby.”
They stood in the kitchen looking into each other’s eyes. When Mitchell nodded toward him, Toby reached over and picked up his phone from the counter. He dialed the number and waited.
“Detective Reightman,” he said when she answered the phone. “I have an idea. I know what we need to do.”
On the other end of the line, Reightman listened as he told her his plan. She ended the call and sunk back into the cushions of her couch. She thought over Toby Bailey’s proposal, turning over the possibilities in her mind while the coffee in her cup slowly cooled.
CHAPTER SIX
Wednesday afternoon included an argument or two, some shouting and a lot of worry. Melba slumped exhausted into one of the chairs in Toby’s apartment where she, Zhou and Mitchell had gone over every detail. As Toby sat pensively on the sofa and Mitchell stood looking out the door, it was Zhou Li in the kitchen who broke the deadlock.
“I don’t really care for this plan, Toby. I think it is very dangerous and puts you at a great deal of risk.” As Toby started to object to yet one more rationalization of why he shouldn’t proceed, Zhou held up one tiny hand. “Let me finish, please. I am old and I am getting to the end of my limited patience.” When he sunk back into the sofa with one bare foot curled up underneath him, and she confirmed no one else was going to attempt to interrupt her, she continued. “While we have all given many reasons why you should not attempt to carry out your plan, I do not think any of us – other than you yourself – have discussed why you should.” She walked over to the chair which set catty-cornered to the couch and placed her hands on the back of the padded backrest.
“Here is what I believe,” Zhou continued when she had everyone’s undivided attention – except that of the man still standing by the French doors. “I believe this offers an excellent possibility for you to lure the person, or persons, involved with Geri Guzman out into the open. I believe with proper preparation, Detective Reightman and Officer Mitchell can arrange to keep you safe. The fact is, you’re not safe now, as demonstrated by the need to have someone with you all day, every day, until the murderer is caught. By moving forward with your suggested approach, you will be taking a reactive situation and making it into a proactive one. I believe the police have reached the point of not knowing what to do next, and the worst thing possible for all of us would be for this investigation to be allowed to grow cold from lack of progress. Isn’t that correct, Detective?” the diminutive woman asked.
“Yes,” Reightman answered from her chair, sounding tired and defeated.
“I thought so. Detective Reightman, please keep your spirits up!” Zhou Li turned back to the man seated on the sofa. “The final thing I believe about your plan Toby is this: I believe you need to do it, for yourself and not for anyone else. I don’t think you will be able to put this behind you until the person who killed Geri is found, and prosecuted to the full extent of the law.”
Zhou moved to the front of the chair and sat down carefully, folding her small hands in her lap. “Toby, you have handled yourself well – remarkably so – in my opinion. But answer this: have you grieved for the loss of your friend? I mean really grieved?”
When he finally shook his head, Zhou had her answer. “Then that, Toby, is why we should do this. To let you get on with your life, after you have grieved Geri’s loss of life.”
One by one the people around the room agreed, with Mitchell being the last holdout. “Toby, are you sure about this?”
“Yes, Mitchell, I am.”
The young cop joined the rest of the group. “Then I guess we better start refining the plan, Toby.” He looked into Reightman’s eyes and remembered the advice she’d given him. He nodded, with acceptance and acknowledgment that she’d been right about the price of forming this bond and shared the realization that neither of them would’ve changed their relationship with Toby, even if they could. “I couldn’t bear it if something bad were to happen, so we better make damned sure it doesn’t.”
Reightman reached out and took Mitchell’s hand in her own. She gave it a gentle squeeze, knowing they were in perfect agreement. “Let’s get started then.” She rose from the chair and the others followed suit, following her to the small dining table.
Toby’s plan was elegant in its simplicity, although it presented problems of both a personal and professional nature.
Toby would place an ad, similar to the kinds Geri had used to attract his…benefactors. The ad would be posted on two electronic bulletin boards which were scanned and read by a large cross section of the population. In order to weed out as many responders a possible, he’d request a photo of some sort – body only and as near to nude as they were willing to provide. Then, the team would compare the photos received to those retrieved from the lockbox Geri had rented. Once reasonable verification was made, Toby would agree to meet with them to provide the agreed upon service.
This was where Toby had difficulty. He wasn’t sure how he’d manage to provide any services, so to speak, to anyone who was a potential suspect in Geri’s murder, but he’d just have to find some way to get through the sessions. He didn’t even try to justify it morally, or ethically. His focus was now on bringing the killer to justice. He’d have to play the rest out as best he could.
The clincher to the plan – and the event which would hopefully draw out the killer – occurred after the initial session was over. Once the client was verified as one of the individuals in the collection of photographs, he’d hand them a copy of one of their photographs from the lockbox collection. Then he’d indicate he intended to carry on with the same arrangements Geri had made with them to ensure the photos remained private.
Again, Toby ran into an ethical dilemma. He abhorred what Geri had done, and now he was perpetuating the same actions. He worried about the effect on those innocent of anything more than looking for companionship on a for-hire basis. He had no problem with people doing whatever they needed to do to meet their own specific needs, as long as no one was physically or emotionally hurt. But this was different. He pushed those concerns aside as well, deciding he’d make some form of restitution, somehow and someway, for any additional pain he caused as he enacted the plan to flush out the killer.
Once Toby presented the photos and made his position clear, he’d provide his contact details and hopefully, one or more of the responders would panic and attempt to meet Toby at a secluded location – maybe even the spa. There, Toby reasoned, they’d once again attempt to end the life of the person who’d threatened them.
The difficulty with the plan lay in determining how to gather evidence of the responder’s wrongdo
ing and intent to harm, and – more importantly – how to keep Toby safe.
“The first thing needed for the initial meeting is a safe location,” Reightman said pragmatically, now she’d resigned herself to the idea the crazy plan was going to be put into motion, “where Toby can meet with the suspects. Once we have a location identified, we can wire it for recording and provide a reasonable level of protection in case something goes wrong during the first meeting.”
“Why can’t we use the spa?” Toby asked, having now put his personal reservations aside.
“I think it could be too much traffic in and out and might raise suspicions. After the first round of meetings is over, and we decide how to move forward, I think the spa would work fine. Theoretically, we’ll have the field of suspects narrowed down by then.”
“How about a hotel room then?”
After thinking it over, Reightman shot it down. “No. I think it’d be difficult to arrange security and to get it wired. Someone would be bound to talk, and the public nature of a hotel would make it less attractive to our targets – given how recognizable many of them are, and how carefully they’ll want to protect their privacy.”
“And under no circumstances are you to agree to meet any of them at their homes, or someplace they suggest.” Zhou sternly directed. “There would be no way to prepare those locations properly to collect what is needed or to keep you safe.” No one argued with her position, or even wanted to. They all knew better, and she was right.
“How about a rental apartment?” Toby suggested again.
Everyone thought it through. There was the potential exposure concern to work through, but all other criteria would be met. They agreed it was a good contender.
Mitchell hadn’t contributed much to the conversation up to that point. He listened intently from his place at the door to each part of the discussion but stayed uncharacteristically silent. Finally he spoke up. “My place.” When the others looked to him for explanation, he continued. “It’s centrally located, we can control the security, wire it for sound, and I know the ways into and out of both the neighborhood and the duplex.”
“Mitchell, why would you agree to let us use your place for this? Wouldn’t it be weird?” Toby asked before Reightman could essentially do the same.
Mitchell looked at his friend for a moment before he spoke. “I’m all in on this, Toby. When I say I’m all in on something, you can believe I mean it.” He went to the kitchen for a glass of water while they mulled over his offer.
“It is perfect,” Reightman said carefully, worried that Mitchell would retract the offer – and worried he wouldn’t. “Are you sure, Mitchell?”
Mitchell took a big gulp of ice water before he answered. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”
Reightman canvassed the opinions of the rest of the group before agreeing. “I appreciate this, Mitchell.”
“No problem, Detective. Like I said before, I’m all in.”
“So am I,” she confirmed. “It looks like we’ve settled on our location and the basic approach. Now we need to decide who to let in on this surprise party we’re planning?”
“Who do you suggest, Detective? Zhou asked as she went back into the kitchen. “Toby do you have any tea – I thought I would put the kettle on.”
“Yes, Madame Zhou – let me get it for you. If you’d fix me a cup as well I’d appreciate it. I never get tea to turn out as good as you do.”
As he went to help Zhou Li, Reightman thought over her question. “I’ll need to get the Chief’s approval, even though technically I have the authority to proceed on my own. This is too risky not to bounce it off of him.”
“Aren’t you afraid he will vacillate and delay on approving the decision, Detective? I must say, I’ve not been pleased with the kind of man Chief Kelly has turned into.”
Reightman was not pleased by the Chief’s recent behavior either, but decided not to comment. “I want to cover our asses on this, Madame Zhou. Regardless of what anyone of us thinks of Chief Kelly these days, he was a good detective in his day. He may be able to help us find and plug any holes in the plan.”
“As you say, Detective, you do have the authority to decide these things,” Zhou agreed, without agreeing at all. “Who else do you feel should be brought in on our operation?”
“The city attorney and someone from the DA’s office. Jessica Lautner would be my choice.”
“I agree Ms. Lautner should be included, and Hollingfield has some promise if he would take the chip off his shoulder and remove the rigid object from his posterior.”
Toby laughed out loud at Zhou’s turn of phrase. “I don’t think you considered your audience when you made that last comment, Madame Zhou.” Reightman had never seen anyone tease the old lady before, and was curious to see how she’d react.
“Just because the thought of something rigid up the posterior sounds appealing to some members of our group, it doesn’t follow that Mr. Hollingfield would,” Zhou replied tartly, although Reightman thought she could detect a hint of amusement in her elderly voice.
Her comment sent Toby over the edge, and as he laughed delightedly, Reightman noticed Mitchell was struggling to hide his own grin. “Let the hilarity ensue,” she said, before redirecting the conversation before it got totally out of control. “I think I should also assign a detail to be in the area, close to Mitchell’s place. And after the first meetings, I think I have to insist any second meetings take place at the spa after regular business hours.”
Zhou occupied herself with pouring the hot water over the hand-assembled bags of tea, and Reightman could smell the familiar fragrance of jasmine wafting from the kitchen. “Did you make enough for one more cup?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes, Detective – I anticipated you might enjoy one.”
“Thank you, Madame Zhou.” Reightman went over her mental list. “Assuming all systems are go, I think we need to talk about the wording for the ad, Toby.”
“Yeah – I guess we better.” Toby handed Reightman her still brewing mug of tea, and went into one of the back rooms. A moment later he returned with a pad of paper. He laid it on the table and went back into the kitchen and dug around in one of the drawers - hoping to locate a pen or pencil. He finally found what he was looking for, and trudged back to the table. He sat down the chair and looked down at the paper.
After a minute had passed in which he’d not written a single word, Reightman asked, “What’s wrong Toby?”
Toby looked up from the paper and gave them all a shaky smile. “As soon as I write this down, it’ll be real.” He looked and sounded as if he was just now realizing exactly what he was going to have to do in order to carry through with his plan.
“You don’t have to do this, Toby,” Zhou said gently as she took her seat, cupping her warm mug with both hands. “Nothing has been set into motion yet, and we would all understand if you couldn’t go through with this. Many of us would be relieved.”
Toby closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. He shook his head to banish his doubts and began to write. When he finished, he laid down his pen and pushed the pad into the center of the table.
One by one, they all took turns reading his words:
“Looking for relief from stress and worry? I offer FULL service body work for discriminating individuals who know what they’re looking for. Reasonable rates. Please provide body picture – or face picture if comfortable. No replies without photo. In calls only.”
Reightman cleared her throat. “I think it looks pretty good.” Zhou agreed, but Mitchell frowned as he looked over what Toby had written. “I think it could use a little more work.” He reached over and took up the pen to create his own version. When he finished, he pushed the pad of paper into the middle of the table for their review.
Reightman felt her cheeks flush slightly as she read the words on the page:
“Hot hung and full of cum young masseur offering personal relief to di$$ciminating professionals. I’ll relieve ALL your stress an
d work your body from head to toe while taking care of everything in between. Some think I’m expen$$ive – but trust me – you’ll never forget our $e$$ion together. Show me what you’ve got – full body pic required before scheduling. Complete discretion and centrally located private location. Respond now - just a few full$service appointments available. You’ll love what we do together.”
Zhou Li read the proposed ad, and then took off her glasses and cleaned the lenses with the tail of her shirt. She placed them back on her tiny face, and indicated the paper in the middle of the table. “I think we have a winner.” She took a delicate sip of her tea. “Officer Mitchell, you are a man of hidden talents.”
“We’ll need a picture of me to post along with the ad,” Toby said as he re-read the words on the paper. “I’ll need to show them the goods.” Everyone tried not to look his way as they realized how far he was willing to put himself out there. “I can probably take a selfie to use,” he added.
Mitchell gave him a cheeky grin. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. After all, I’m a pretty good photographer.”
Reightman pretended she hadn’t heard the implied offer. “Is it a go then?” she asked as she stood from the table. When all had agreed it was, she cautioned, “Don’t post this until I’ve briefed the rest of the people who need to know. I will try to give the green light by noon tomorrow.” Toby agreed with her directive, and she turned to Mitchell. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow to arrange the wiring of your place. I think I’ll bring Tom Anderson in the loop – he likes special projects like this.”
“Sounds good, ma’am.”
“Detective Reightman, do you mind walking me down to my apartment? I hate to ask, but since it is long past dark, I am somewhat worried about navigating the stairs.”
“I’d be happy to, Madame Zhou. I was planning to take my time going down anyway so I don’t stress the knee.”
Soon the two women said their farewells, and Toby was cleaning up the mugs and glasses. Mitchell went about turning off the lights and lamps in the front rooms and checking that the front door was locked. Toby heard him open the French doors and step out onto the terrace. “He’s probably checking the perimeter – again.” He dried his hands on a towel and folded it over the edge of the sink, and turned off the kitchen light. He rounded the corner of the counter and walked to the door to check what Mitchell was doing. He stopped in the doorway.
Hard Job: Reightman & Bailey Book Two Page 12