Corktown

by Ty Hutchinson

  Katherine, Wilkinson thought. What is she doing here? He relaxed a little and took his hand off his weapon. “Mrs. Carter, why are you here?” The situation was confusing, but from the way she had her arms wrapped around herself, she appeared to be either cold or frightened.

  “I’m so glad I found you,” she said, approaching him and letting her arms fall to the side. Before he could answer, she swung her right arm up and across his neckline.

  It took a moment for Wilkinson to comprehend what had happened. He reached up and felt the warm liquid pouring from his neck. No! It can’t be. Not you!

  Katherine backed away, out of his reach. Dappled moonlight crossed her face revealing a smile. He tried to speak but could only manage a gurgle. Wilkinson knew he had to act fast if he wanted any chance of survival. He also had to warn Abby.

  46

  Becker had had enough fun. I didn’t want to bust up the party when they were rounding third base, let alone home plate. I radioed Wilkinson to move in, but he didn’t answer. Again I hit the talk button on the two-way. “Wilkinson, I’m moving in. Respond.” Still nothing. I knew he had eyes on me, so I figured I’d go ahead and he would see me.

  The radio crackled. “What’s going on?” Solis asked.

  “I can’t get a hold of Wilkinson. I need you guys to move in. I’m proceeding toward the vehicle.”

  Just as I stood up, my eyes caught movement near the trees. Wilkinson had made his way into the open. His body movement wasn’t right. He looked drunk. His arms weren’t swinging either. I watched for a moment before I headed towards him. As I got closer, it became clearer; he had both hands around his neck.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked picking up the pace. “Wilky!”

  He didn’t answer. When I reached him, I understood why. The blood was everywhere. He fell to his knees. So did I. His bloody hands were gripped tightly around his neck, but they slipped for a second, and a red arc shot pass my face until he could reclaim his grip. I placed my hands over his, helping to keep pressure.

  “What happened? Who did this?” I asked.

  He opened his mouth and moved it but nothing came out. His eyes were wide and locked onto me. He was scared.

  “Hold on Wilky. We’re going to get through this.”

  I grabbed my radio. “Solis, Wilkinson’s down. I need an ambulance. Wilkinson is down. Get an ambulance here now!” I dropped the radio and put my other hand back over his. “You’re going to be fine. I’ve got a grip on you.”

  I could hear his labored breathing, wet with his blood loss. It worried me. He was fading fast. His eyes blinked rapidly and then closed. I slapped his face. “Stay with me, Wilky. I need you to stay awake.” If not for yourself, do it for me.

  His eyes opened, but he might as well have been staring right through me. This can’t be happening.

  The sound of a door opening grabbed my attention. I looked up in enough time to see the tall man exit Becker’s vehicle and get into his. Within seconds, he had the Mercedes backing up. I could hear the gears in the car shifting. The wheels squealed as the car sped off. I couldn’t leave Wilkinson.

  “Stop,” I shouted, “FBI.” Any hope in stopping our guy faded fast as I watched the rear lights of the vehicle get smaller.

  A car screeched to a halt near us.

  “What the fuck happened?” Solis shouted, exiting the vehicle.

  “Wilkinson is bleeding from the neck, badly. Someone attacked him after we separated.”

  “Becker,” I motioned with my head, “check on him.”

  Solis ran over to the car while Madero grabbed a medical kit from their trunk.

  I dug through the kit with one hand while I gave orders to Madero. “The bridge. There’s only one way off the island. Our guy is in a silver SUV.”

  Madero jumped back into the unmarked car and sped off in the opposite direction, hoping to reach the bridge before the Mercedes did.

  I put a big piece of gauze over Wilky’s wound. It seemed to help. It’s what I wanted to believe. I looked at his eyes; he no longer had the deer stuck in the headlights look. It took all I could to hide my emotions. I needed to remain strong and let him know we would get through this. “Hang in there, Wilky; help is on the way.”

  “Fuck!” Solis shouted.

  That’s not what I wanted to hear. I looked back over my shoulder.

  “Becker’s dead. He’s fucking dead!”

  I couldn’t believe it. It all had happened so quickly. Had I lost complete control of everything?

  47

  Earlier, when Preston had entered the Explorer, Archie Becker had already had a playful smile on his face. “I’ve missed you,” he said. “You don’t return my calls.”

  Preston leaned in, and they kissed for a while before he pulled away. “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. It’s exam time, you know.”

  “Always the teacher.”

  “A mind is a terrible thing to waste. Isn’t that the phrase?”

  “What about a hard-on?” Becker batted his eyelashes as he reached over and grabbed Preston by his crotch. “Looks like teacher is hot for student.” He stroked the professor through his trousers while they kissed noisily.

  “That’s nice,” Preston mumbled. He then unzipped his pants and freed himself for Becker, who stroked him for a bit longer before lowering his head and sucking greedily. The professor closed his eyes and leaned back as he imagined his beautiful wife Katherine in his lap, lizard licking his head before swallowing him whole. Preston wasn’t into guys, but he was into killing them. Whatever it took. That’s what he did. Plus, Becker gave surprisingly decent head.

  • • •

  Katherine had known the police were watching Becker’s home—a minor inconvenience and nothing to be concerned about. They would have to lock him up if they wanted to keep him safe. And even then, she vowed she would find a way to get to him. Nothing would deter her from the plan—not even a couple of federal agents. She still had the upper hand.

  It didn’t take much for her to convince her husband to spend time with Becker. He had an insatiable appetite he needed to fill. Because of that, he would be capable of letting another man suck him off. A mouth was a mouth, she told him.

  Preston had earlier meetings with Becker, all of them trial runs. The engineer was a nervous nelly, and Katherine felt the need to practice to get it right. She always followed her husband in a separate car on each occasion and parked on the other side of the park. She then kept watch on Preston from the bushes. The trial runs had rid her plan of any kinks, and the time had come for Becker to learn what it would be like to watch the life spray out of him.

  When the agents appeared, it didn’t surprise Katherine. She had prepared for their meddling ways. Look at the big bad agents, kneeling exactly where I thought they would. Becker always parked in the same stall. He liked to think the big oak tree hid his nasty habit.

  Like clockwork, the pawns in her plan had assumed their positions. When Katherine saw the small one break away, she didn’t think things could get any better. Never leave your partner. Isn’t that FBI 101? She sent Preston a text, “They’re here. Do it now.”

  Too bad the tall one remained behind, she thought as she made her way toward him. I so wanted the little one.

  48

  Wilkinson hung on until help arrived, but he didn’t do well on the ride to the hospital. I was with him inside the ambulance when he died. He had lost so much blood; the EMT couldn’t do much. I asked if I could be alone with him, and the medic moved up to the front seat with the driver.

  Only then did I allow myself to cry. I didn’t think I could wait until I got back to my hotel. I did my best to keep quiet as I choked back most of my tears. I brushed a few strands of hair away from his eyes. You always watched out for me. Where was I when you needed someone watching over you? The EMT had bandaged his throat and covered him up to his neck in sheets. All I had to look at was his face. That’s all I wanted anyway.

  Oh, Wilky. I wanted to think it was
a terrible dream, that I would wake up the next morning and have another day with him, with the two of us fighting over directions for the fastest route just so we could keep talking to each other when it got quiet. I wanted to see him fidget with his Oakland A’s ball cap and flash his warm smile. I hadn’t had enough of playing cat and mouse with our feelings for each other, as though we had all the time in the world.

  All those “wish” thoughts started to flood my head—things I wished I had said or done with him. Why is it we never take full advantage of those we have around us? I remembered having these exact same feelings with Peng. Even though I had done so much more with Peng than with any man before, I could have given more of myself. I wish I had.

  Wilky and I had grown closer than ever on this case. That night in the car turned the corner for us. I wondered if it was better that we hadn’t gone further down the road sooner. Would the pain have been more?

  I knew I had to pull myself together and disregard the emptiness in my stomach. I wiped my nose on my sleeve and dried my eyes. They felt puffy—not the look a head investigator wants to show.

  I stuck around the hospital for a bit, but there really wasn’t much I could do there. I got into a cab and headed back to Belle Isle, where I knew I could be useful.

  I cried the entire ride.

  Solis and Madero were still at the scene, along with an army of uniforms searching the park and interviewing people. The late-night partiers had abandoned their cars and were pressed up against the police tape, watching people they normally saw on a detective show.

  I didn’t have to say anything about Wilkinson’s death; word had already spread.

  “I’m sorry,” Solis said. “I hate to see any member of law enforcement fall.”

  “He was a good guy,” Madero added.

  I appreciated their words, even Madero’s. But as hard as it was, I had to put Wilkinson’s death behind me—not because I didn’t care, but because I needed to focus.

  I remembered spending a year searching for the degenerates who took Peng’s life. I worked late nights, gave up weekends and holidays, but I never found out who did it. That became my first and only unsolved case. I swore on the ride back from the hospital that I would catch Wilkinson’s killer.

  I filled in Solis and Madero on everything that had happened, from the moment Wilkinson and I left our car, to when we parted ways, to when they arrived and my partner was down.

  “There are two killers,” Solis said.

  “There has to be,” I said. “Both Wilkinson and Archie Becker received similar wounds to their necks at roughly the same time.”

  “You sure Becker was alive before Wilkinson showed up?” Solis asked.

  “Positive. I saw his face before his head started to bob up and down in the other guys lap.”

  Solis pointed to the tree line. “That’s when Wilkinson came stumbling out from the shadows.”

  “Correct. In the amount of time it took me to make my way over to Wilkinson, Becker had to have been killed by the blond guy that sped off. You need a team to pull that off.”

  49

  My supervisor, Special Agent Reilly, urged me to stay in Detroit instead of coming back for Wilkinson’s funeral.

  “Absolutely not,” I said. “It’s only two days. I’ll be back in Detroit before you know it.”

  Reilly was in a sticky spot. On the one hand, he could have ordered me to stay in Detroit. On the other hand, Wilkinson was my partner. Plus, I wanted to see my family. I missed them.

  I hopped on an 8:50 a.m. Delta flight that put me into San Francisco around eleven that same morning. I was eager to see everyone. I couldn’t have stopped my bouncing knee, even if I’d wanted.

  It was Saturday, so I had the weekend with the kids. I called Po Po as soon as I landed to let her know I would be home shortly. Traffic into the city was light. Before I knew it, the cab had made a right onto Pfeiffer Street.

  “Mommmmy!” Lucy squealed as I walked into the house. She ran toward me and nearly knocked me over as I kneeled and wrapped my arms around her. Ryan joined us. I grabbed him and hugged and kissed them both. I didn’t want to let go. It felt so right. “It’s so good to be home.”

  “Are you finished with work?” Ryan asked.

  “I’m sorry, not yet. But let’s not think about that. How about we go to the Academy of Sciences today?”

  Both kids cheered. They had been bugging me to go to the museum, Ryan especially, for a while now. He wanted to see Claude, the albino alligator.

  “Go get ready.”

  I stood up and hugged Po Po.

  “We all miss you,” she said. “So sorry about your friend. Does he have a family?”

  “His parents and one sister. No family of his own, though.”

  Po Po shook her head. Thankfully, she turned away and headed into the kitchen. I didn’t want to spend time talking about it. I wanted to focus on the family.

  We spent the entire day at the Golden Gate Park, where the museum was located. Ryan and Lucy loved the hands-on exhibits. Even Po Po had a good time. After we were done with the museum, we picked a quiet spot in the park where we relaxed and ate sandwiches.

  From the shade of a tree, Po Po and I watched Ryan and Lucy play tag with a bunch of other children. I stretched out on the blanket, enjoying the crisp weather. The sun shined above while a slight breeze kept us cool—such a departure from the muggy heat I had to deal with in Detroit. I would pack jeans, light blouses, and tennis shoes for the remainder of my time in Detroit. Screw the suits. They weren’t required dress.

  “When you coming home for good?” Po Po asked.

  “That’s a hard question to answer.”

  “Why?”

  I didn’t want to get into the details of the case, nor did I want to explain why catching a criminal took so long. I really had no interest in bringing home my work, especially that day.

  “It’s complicated.” Boy was it ever. Up until now, Wilkinson and I had avoided mentioning our suspicions of a cover-up to Reilly. Questions being asked at his level, especially since we had no hard evidence to prove our suspicions, would just make matters worse. As far as he knew, we were progressing on the case.

  50

  Wilkinson was put to rest in his hometown of Berkeley, across the bay from where I lived. Reilly insisted on driving me, though I had a feeling he really wanted a little Q&A time regarding the report I’d written for Wilkinson’s death.

  We exchanged five minutes of pleasantries, more than I had anticipated. After that, he got to the point.

  “I want you to go over it again,” Reilly said.

  “Everything I have to say was in the report I gave you.”

  “I want to hear it. We lost a good agent, and the department isn’t exactly thrilled about it.”

  You think I’m planning a party? We were all affected by Wilkinson’s death. We lost a great agent and great friend. I took a deep breath and once again walked Reilly through that night.

  “So you snuck up to the vehicle for a closer look?”

  “That’s correct,” I said.

  “Why didn’t Wilkinson advance with you?”

  “My height. For cover, I used a tiny bush out in the open, not far from the car. I could scrunch down and look like part of it. Wilkinson couldn’t. But he had eyes on me the entire time.”

  Reilly shot me a look of disbelief.

  “I’m not kidding. I’m short. He’s not.”

  “So he could see you, but you couldn’t see him?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Now that we know there are two killers, the case is much more dangerous. I can’t have you working alone. I’ll send out another agent.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said, motioning with my hand. “I have it under control.”

  “Agent Kane, I can’t risk anything happening to you. I’m sending out another agent.”

  “Another agent will only get in the way. There’s too much catching up to do. I have two detectiv
es dedicated to these cases at my disposal.” Sure they aren’t that bright, but still, they’ve been there from the start and know what’s going on.

  “That doesn’t help your case,” Reilly said with a shake of his head.

  “Give me two weeks on my own. If I haven’t put it to bed by then, you can send an army of agents my way.”

  Reilly didn’t say anything, only stared straight ahead at the road. After a few moments of silence, he turned to me. “Two weeks, not a day more.”

  “Deal!”

  “And I want updates twice a week.”

  Not a problem. I wanted to nail these sickos. Dead or alive, it didn’t matter.

  51

  The Carters decided to spend family day at the zoo. Lorenzo and Jackson led the way straight to the butterfly garden. It was their favorite exhibit and a family tradition to start there. Hundreds of free-flying, colorful wonders flapped around the two boys the second they entered the habitat. The boys’ smiles hung open as they twirled, unsure of which of the butterflies to follow.

  “Lorenzo, keep an eye on your brother,” Katherine called out. She and Preston took a seat on a bench inside the enclosed exhibit, where it was always a balmy seventy-five degrees. It bothered Katherine, mostly because of what it did to her hair.

  Preston picked at his fingernails. “I’m worried,” he said.

  Katherine knew her husband saw the glass as half empty; she needed to inject some positivity into the situation. She turned to her him and fixed his collar, then dusted off his sports coat. “We’re almost finished. Soon we’ll go back in hiding and back to our randoms.” That’s what she liked to call them.

  Preston put on a smile, but Katherine could see the strain in his jaw. She gave his thigh a playful pat and then rubbed it up and down. He turned to her. “We almost got caught. What makes you think they don’t know who we are by now?”