by Cam Larson
I had to agree with him. I also knew I had to see Chief Hayes again very soon. Daniel said he would come with me and called the chief to tell him we were on our way.
# # #
When Daniel and I got to the precinct house, things were quiet in the reception area. And once back in Chief Hayes's office, I noticed that his desk had fewer folders on it than the last time.
"I'd offer you both some coffee," the chief said, "but it wouldn’t be anything like what you're used to at Roasted Love." He grinned. "Tell me – what is so important that both of you show up as a team?"
I told him about my meeting with Linda. "She admitted that Larch never told her he planted drugs in Steven Wilkins’ apartment, down on Skid Row. But – "
"Yes?"
"She did say something about a dirty cop."
The chief frowned. "Did she name the cop?"
"No. When I asked her, she said Larch hadn't mentioned any names. According to Linda, he did say that your department should be looking at someone on the inside. And he referred to the deaths of two homeless men."
Daniel spoke up. "Maybe you should talk to Ronald Larch so you can get it all first-hand from him," he said. "I don’t like it that Laila is the go-between here."
The chief nodded. "My thoughts exactly. And Laila, I read the report on your stalker the other night and I have an extra patrol in your area. Obviously, someone has targeted you. I want you to be careful."
"As for the subject of a bad cop, I take that charge very seriously and I don't appreciate people spewing accusations around like that. It's also not something that is likely to be true. But I will have a talk with Mr. Larch and see what he has to say."
He didn't seem thrilled, but I wanted to clarify. "We just wanted to make sure you heard about it. I don't know anymore than that, but no one wants that to be true. Thank you for your time, Chief".
"Thank you guys. I'll get to the bottom of this. You did the right thing."
Chapter Twenty Seven
"Laila, do you mind closing this evening?" asked Jacob.
"Sure. I’ll be happy to," I answered. "I don’t have anything planned for tonight." I grinned at my boss. "Why, what's up? Do you have a hot date?"
Jacob laughed and shook his head. "If you want to call a meeting with my accountant a hot date, then I guess I do. But that's all. He’s coming to my house, so I’m leaving early to pick up something for us to chew on while we do battle with the figures."
"I don’t envy you that," I said. "Go ahead. I'll take care of things here."
I joined Lily in the front of Roasted Love. Almost every table was taken. I helped Lily take orders, and we took care of our own drinks at the espresso machine while Eddie brought more bagels out along with fruit scones.
When we finally got caught up, I spent my time between the register and the espresso machine. Rain started falling and some customers began lingering longer than usual. It was more comfortable to sit in Roasted Love and enjoy a second cup or a cookie instead of running outside and getting wet.
I looked up when the door jangled and saw Ronald Larch and the Councilman walk in. As usual, the candidate was politicking his way to a table in the center of the room. Larch avoided my eyes, as usual.
Carpenter walked over and greeted me like an old friend. Possibly it was a greeting hoping to get another vote, but either way it was hard to tell the difference. If you didn't know any better, it was easy to like the man. He asked for an espresso to go and then took his drink and left again. Larch stayed behind and sat down at a table.
Soon only six customers remained at the tables. One of them was Larch. He had a folder in front of him that he thumbed through. Several times I was sure he glanced in my direction.
"I’m going to grab an espresso, Lily. Do you want to join me?" I said.
"I’m not quite ready but you go ahead," she said.
I made my way to the back employee table. My eyes were on the steaming espresso when I felt a presence standing there. I looked up to see Larch.
"Do you mind if I join you for a few minutes?" he said. "I know you're on break, but I won’t take up much of your time."
For once, I was speechless. He was the last person I expected to have a conversation with. I waved him to the chair across from me, and he sat down.
"I know you think that homeless man who used to sit outside here was murdered," he began.
I cocked my head and studied him. "Are you talking about John Wilkins? Your friend from the past? You certainly know that was his name."
His face started to turn red, and he raised his hands a little as if in surrender. "You're right. John and I had problems between us. But that’s not what I want to say to you."
I took a sip of my espresso.
"Linda came clean last night about meeting with you."
I held up my hand to stop him. I remembered what Daniel had said to the chief about me being in the middle of this. "Don’t tell me anything. Chief Hayes is the one to talk to."
"That’s what I’m trying to say. I met with the chief this morning. I told him I knew that both of those homeless men were murdered. And I',m sure I know who it was."
I shut my eyes. My heart was pounding out of my chest. "Mr. Larch – I don’t want to know. I’m just glad Chief Hayes has the information. That's who should be handling this."
Though at the same time, I had no idea of what had come over me. This was exactly what I'd wanted to know from the start. Why was I trying to shut him down?
"All right," said Larch. "Suit yourself. I just don’t want you thinking I had anything to do with it."
He got up from the table and walked to the register, where Lily took his money. I watched him hurry to his car. The rain came down harder and he wasn’t someone who would appreciate getting his good suit all spotted with rain.
Of course, I sure wanted to know who had murdered John and Ricky, but the relief that Chief Hayes now knew was enough for the moment. That fact should stop whoever continued to harass me – at least, I sure hoped it would.
Before going back out to the counter, I called Daniel and told him what Larch had said to me.
"But he didn't give you a name?" Daniel asked. "Did he say it was a bad cop?"
"I didn’t let him tell me much of anything. I have to close tonight, but maybe you can get some information from Chief Hayes. You're good friends and I think he might tell you what's going on."
"Are you using me again?" asked Daniel, teasing me.
I smiled, even though he couldn't see me. "Well, you have to admit that you're good at getting the info any time you want to." It was true. "And if Donald won’t tell you anything, then ask your cop friend Leo Swenson."
"Okay, okay. I’ll do my best. I’ll call you later this evening, Sherlock," said Daniel, and he hung up.
# # #
A little while later, I had just taken a couple of sandwich orders when Lily came over to me. "I need the keys to the register," she said. "I accidentally overcharged somebody and I need to make a correction."
"Oh. Okay." I'd done that myself more than once. "Hang on and I'll get the keys."
I was in charge tonight since Jacob was out working with his accountant, so I walked into his office, pulled open his lower desk drawer, and reached into the little compartment inside to get the keys.
That's when I noticed something.
Stuffed into that same drawer was a large, smudged, dirty manila envelope. It was torn along one edge and looked as if it had been lying in the mud at one time. The crease in the middle told me it had been folded for a while, too.
This was pretty unusual. I did have to open that drawer to get the keys every now and then, but I didn't remember seeing this big filthy-looking envelope before.
I ran back to the floor, gave the keys to Lily, and then ran back into Jacob's office.
Without hesitation, I picked up the mysterious envelope. It was heavy and lumpy. I dumped out the contents onto the desk, and took a good look.
I
saw a man’s silver bracelet and a ring. The bracelet was nicely engraved: To John, my love. Happy Valentine’s Day. Linda. A date was etched below that, in smaller characters.
The other piece looked like a class ring. It had the name of a high school that I didn't recognize, along with the year.
A shock ran through me.
John?
Linda?
A Valentine's Day gift?
Trying to think, I turned the envelope over. And there on the front was a sticky note with Jacob's familiar messy handwriting on it: Found Near Dumpster, it said.
So – Jacob must have found this stuff outside in the alley, and kept it until he could try to find the owners.
But how many other loving couples could there be around here with the names John and Linda – with the one named John found dead in an alley?
# # #
The minutes had never passed so slowly. All I could think about was getting back outside to see if there was anything else out there next to the dumpster. Jacob might have noticed something as large as this envelope, sure, but there might well be something else.
I had to know for sure.
Finally, the customers were gone. Lily and Eddie helped me clean up and then they left. I clocked out and locked the front door behind me.
The sun had gone down. There was still some activity on the Piazza, but most of it consisted of the other shopkeepers closing up.
My car looked very forlorn and lonely, sitting by itself in the little parking lot.
Chapter Twenty Eight
As I walked into the alley and headed towards the dumpster, my mind jumped into high gear. Maybe, there was a good chance that I'd find more things belonging to Homeless John out there. The trash had been picked up twice since his death, but they didn’t always get everything and plenty of small stuff always fell out into the alley.
The container itself was pretty deep, though I could still look into it if I stood on tiptoe. I held the envelope under my elbow and bent down to search the ground outside of the dumpster first. The streetlight in the alley lit up the area fairly well, though I was sure that to anyone who happened to pass by it looked like I was right in the middle of dumpster diving.
But to my disappointment, there was nothing else of significance on the ground. I flipped open the dumpster lid and stood on tiptoe. There were shadows inside and I couldn't see much.
I went back to my car and retrieved a small flashlight from the glove compartment. I felt the pepper spray next to it and grabbed them both. Slipping the pepper spray into my pocket, I hiked back into the alley.
Once more, I stretched tall so I could peer inside the bin and aimed my flashlight into it. The only way to see to the bottom was if I moved tonight’s trash bags out of the way – but that was impossible. I didn’t want to climb inside the thing only to find I couldn’t get back out.
I sighed, and stood there for a moment in the shadow of the dumpster trying to decide what to do next.
Suddenly, someone grabbed me from behind. Strong arms lifted me up, as if to add me to the trash inside. I found myself hanging over the edge with my head hanging into the awful darkness and stench of the dumpster.
Quickly, I clutched the arm of my attacker and pulled myself up with sheer force – and came face to face with John Collins, the DEA agent.
He yanked his arm back and forth as if to shake me from his grip. The pepper spray was useless at this point. I couldn’t release my grip on his arm and dig for my ammunition at the same time – but I realized I wasn't getting out of this situation alive unless I could reach that spray.
I dropped the flashlight and let it fall clanging into the bin. With everything I had within me, I managed to keep my grip on the man with one hand and use the other to dig in my pocket for the pepper spray. It all happened within an instant, but I managed to spray a huge shot of it right in his face.
More than once.
He let go and stumbled away from me. That gave me a chance to grab the edge of the bin, get my balance, and push myself away.
I dropped down hard to the ground. While Collins rubbed his eyes and staggered and swore, I raced down the alley faster than I'd ever run in my life. I could only hope that one of the other merchants was out behind his store.
Then my heart froze again when I heard running footsteps close in on me.
My cries for help were strangled when I fell hard to the ground. Rocks and gravel cut into my face and hands and my pepper spray container rolled away.
John Collins’ strong hands pinned me down. "Stupid girl," he hissed between gritted teeth. "If it hadn’t been for you, no one would have cared about a homeless junkie dying. Now you're going to pay for your interference."
He was furiously angry and I recognized it a most likely the source of the gravelly, hissing voice I'd heard on those phone calls. In addition to trying to throw me away like garbage, Collins was the one who'd been stalking me.
But that was the least of my problems now. His iron grasp around my throat cut off my air. I struggled to get away from him, but he was far too strong.
Suddenly his grip on my neck eased up. And to my shock, Collins fell to the ground of the alley like a huge sack of potatoes.
I pushed myself up to a sitting position, scooting backward to get away from him. I looked up to see another person standing over Collins – a person I recognized.
Licorice Billy.
"Where did you come from?" I asked. I struggled to make my voice sound normal, but it was coarse and raspy from being half-strangled.
Billy shrugged. I saw that he clutched what looked like a tire iron in one hand. "I have to go somewhere in the nighttime. I told you the shelter was no place to get a good night’s sleep."
"Are you still sleeping in front of Roasted Love?" I asked. It hit me as ludicrous that we were having this discussion when there was a man who'd just tried to kill me lying unconscious on the ground.
I fumbled in my pocket for my cell phone. Then I remembered it was in my car on the front seat. Slowly, I got to my feet and found that I was shaking all over.
"I’m not littering the front of the coffee shop," Billy said. "I sleep nearby and wait for whatever gets thrown out from your shop. A man has to eat."
For the first time, I noticed that there was no black licorice juice around his mouth. But if I hadn’t known Billy, I still would have been scared of the grotesque look of his face highlighted by the streetlight just above us.
"I have to get to my cell phone. It’s in my car," I said to Billy. I took a step. I tried to walk normally, but in reality I could barely get one foot in front of the other.
Licorice Billy looked toward my car. He shuffled away from me and I watched as he opened the driver’s side, reached in, and pulled out my cell phone. He then ambled back over and handed it to me without a word.
"Ya know," he said, "John Wilkins and I were on the same side. Sure, we had our ups and downs, but we both worked at helping others in the same boat we were in." He scuffed a few rocks with his worn shoes and then looked at the man on the ground.
John Collins began to moan. "Take this guy here," Billy said, nodding his head towards him. "He's got the power to help a lot of people. Instead, he just makes things worse. Ricky and I were pretty sure he killed John." Billy looked over at me. "He killed Ricky, too."
"But – why?" was all I could say. "Why would an officer of the law sink to murder? What in the world would he have to gain?"
Billy looked closely at Collins. "You better call for help. I think he's coming to." Billy held up the tire iron. "You want me to hit him again?"
"No. No," I said quickly. "No, I don't think that'll be necessary." Collins moaned and moved a little, but it was going to be a while before he was any threat.
I did manage to dial 9-1-1, and within a couple of minutes there was a patrol car in the alley with red and blue lights flashing. Licorice Billy slipped away just as they parked.
"You sure got here fast," I said, when the first
officer stepped out of the cruiser. His name tag read Leo Swenson, Officer.
"We were just down the street. Hey – that's – is that John Collins lying there?" He hurried to Collins's side and got a look at the fallen man's face.
He then motioned for the other officer to come over and take my statement. I turned and walked towards the cruiser, and that's when Leo saw my bruised neck and gravel-scraped face and hands. "Wait a minute. I’m calling for an ambulance to get you checked out."
I soon realized that no amount of protest would change his mind. He'd noticed that I still wore my name tag for Roasted Love. "You're Daniel’s Laila, aren’t you?"
I looked up at him, and almost broke down in tears. "Yes," I whispered.
"If I don’t call a paramedic, Daniel will have my head. Just wait right here."
By that time, John Collins was sitting up in handcuffs and seemed to be mostly conscious. I could hear him trying to make excuses as to why he was in the position he was in. "She attacked me for no reason," he mumbled, his voice slurred. "I was back here looking for evidence when she came up behind me."
Even to the cops, who had heard it all, that could only sound lame. A short time later, an ambulance took Collins away with the second officer riding along.
Then a second paramedic squad arrived for me, and the first one to reach me put his arms around me and held me close. "Laila! Just lie still. We'll take care of you. I'll be mad at you later for getting mixed up in this. Okay?"
"Okay, Daniel," I whispered, knowing I was safe at last.
Officer Swenson came over to me. "Ms. Rook, can you give me a statement as to exactly what went on here?"
Daniel looked up at him. "She needs to be transported now. I'll have her tell it all to Chief Hayes as soon as she's been taken care of. I'm sure he’ll be more than interested in what she has to say."
I raised my head a little. "Will John Collins be back at work after he leaves the hospital?"
Swenson raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. "Oh, I wouldn't look for him, ma'am. I don't think any of us will be seeing him ever again."