On Common Ground

by Jansen Schmidt

  “I used to be nice. I used to have friends and go places. I wasn’t this way until he messed everything up.”

  “Don’t give him control over you, Ketra.” He skimmed the backs of his fingers along her cheek. Shivers skittered down her neck and arms.

  She unlocked her arms from around his waist and ascended the steps. At the door she bent, removed her right shoe, and dumped her door key into her palm. Trevor waited in the doorway when she went inside.

  “You might as well come in. It’s cold outside. I’ll only be a couple of minutes.”

  She rummaged through her closet for a tote bag, then began putting toiletries and articles of clothing inside. When she had everything she needed, she returned to the living room and wrapped a jacket around her shoulders. “Ready?”

  “Come here for a minute.” He patted the sofa next to him. She remained standing by the door. “Please. I want to talk to you.” His wagged his eyebrows. “Unless you want me to do something else?”

  She set the bag next to the front door and folded the jacket on top of it. At the opposite end of the sofa she sat and folded her hands in her lap.

  “Your sister’s right. It’s time to stop hiding, pretending you’re somebody you’re not. You’ve created your own prison walls and set yourself up as the jailer. You’re the only one who can tear them down and set yourself free. From what I’ve seen tonight, there are lots of people willing to walk alongside you. Why don’t you let them?” He scooted closer, taking her cold hands in his warm ones. “If you’re not happy here, go home. Go back to Oklahoma. To your family and friends, and the church you’ve always gone to. Living this way will kill you.”

  Ketra bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering. “This is my home. I love Arizona. And I don’t want any of my old friends. Not one single person I thought was my friend stood by me after the whole Kyle thing. Everybody told me to let it go, not to press charges. They said, he was just drunk and he didn’t mean to do it. Some people, people I thought were friends, accused me of leading him on. Said I took him home on purpose to get laid. No one believed me. No one supported me.

  “Some of the professors started giving me “F’s” on my tests. One even said he lost my homework assignment. I had to re-do all of it. There was a huge smear campaign against me. Faculty and administration wanted me to drop the charges because they needed Kyle on the football team. Can you believe that? I was run out of Oklahoma. Why would I want to go back there?”

  “You wouldn’t,” he conceded with a sigh.

  “You want to know something funny?” She laughed despite the tears trickling down her cheeks. “I actually thought about dropping the charges. But…then everyone started being so hateful and threatening…so, I didn’t.”

  “That took a lot of guts.” He squeezed her fingers. “You were very brave. And you did the right thing. Many people cave when they get pressured. I see it a lot in my job. They sell out. It sucks. That’s why it keeps happening. Girls get scared. They’re embarrassed.”

  “I’m not going back to Oklahoma.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “There’s nothing there for me. I want to stay here. I don’t know why my mom ever left.”

  “The way I understand it, she planned on coming back after college. Sounds to me like love got in the way. She followed her heart.”

  Ketra sighed.

  “Love is a crazy thing. It’ll mess you up if you let it.”

  She turned her head, studying his face. “You speaking from experience?”

  “I’ve seen some crazy crimes committed in the name of love. It’s a powerful emotion.” He paused, his eyes intent on her face for a minute. “You need to go to your sister’s wedding. I’ll even volunteer to go along as your bodyguard.” His mischievous smile set her stomach aflutter. “I would love nothing more than to keep watch over your body.”

  She rolled her eyes and stood up. “Let’s go.”

  Before she stepped away, he captured her hand and pulled her down on to his lap. Her back pressed against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed her neck. “I mean it. I’ll go with you if it makes you feel safer. I am a cop, after all. I do have a little bit of experience keeping people safe.”

  She twisted around to look at him. “They’re getting married in Italy.”

  “I love Italy!”

  “You’ve been there?” Her head jerked backward at this exclamation.

  “I have. It’s a beautiful country. And Marco’s right, Vernazza is very small. Almost not there at all. If any bad guys show up, I’ll be able to nab them single-handedly. It’s that small.”

  “Whatever.” She leaned forward and maneuvered sideways on his lap. “Why were you in Italy?”

  “Vacation.”

  “Oh.”

  He bounced his knees. “So, are we going to Italy or not?”

  “Let me up. They’re going to wonder what’s keeping me.”

  “Let them wonder.” He kissed her neck and slipped his hand inside her dress to cup a breast. When she moaned and leaned back into him, he circled his thumbs around her nipple, making her gasp.

  “Please stop.”

  He stilled but did not remove his hand. “Why?”

  “Because.” She repositioned her dress. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to keep doing this.”

  “What? Communicating?”

  She huffed. “You are so infuriating.” She climbed off his lap. Picking up her jacket, she swung it around her shoulders then hooked the tote bag over her arm.

  “I’m leaving, so you need to get out of my house.” She cocked her head and pursed her lips in feigned irritation.

  “Are you going to your sister’s wedding?”

  “They haven’t even set a date yet.”

  “Ketra?”

  “Of course I’m going to my sister’s wedding.” She let the tote bag slide down her arm pulling her shoulders forward. “Do you really think I’d spoil it for her?”

  His grin stole her breath. “I’ll get my passport renewed tomorrow.”

  He preceded her out the door, extending his palm for the key. She waited in the shadows on the porch while he locked the door. They walked back to Rocky’s house without speaking. At the picket fence circling the front yard, he stopped and brushed his lips against hers.

  “Good night. Have a nice visit with your sister.”

  “Is Kenny upstairs?” she asked Rocky, who was washing dishes with Marco in the kitchen.

  “Yeah, go on up. Make yourself at home.”

  She started up when Kenny started down. “Oh, there you are. Where’s Trevor? I thought he’d come back up with you.”

  “He did.”

  “Well, where is he?”

  Ketra shrugged. “He went home, I guess.”

  Kennedy was quiet for a minute then took the tote bag from Ketra’s hand. “Come on. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. And a lot of wedding planning.”

  “Don’t stay up all night girls,” Rocky called from the kitchen. “Sun’s up early this time of year.”

  “We won’t,” they answered in unison.

  Kennedy yelled down from the top of the stairs. “I’ll let her go to sleep the minute she admits she’s in love with Trevor.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Though later than he planned to do so, Trevor called his boss. He answered on the first ring.

  “Please tell me you’ve got something.” Trevor hoped the urgency in his voice didn’t come across as pathetic.

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  Straddling the ladder-backed chair that matched the dinette table, Trevor switched from studying the wood grain on the planks beneath his feet to staring at the beige wall in front of him. His pulse thumped faster in anticipation.

  “I did a little more digging on Hamilton. The situation with his kid is
an interesting coincidence. You know how I feel about coincidences. Annie, my new best friend at the FBI, told me that, in addition to the calls to Hamilton, Sean Glaskel’s phone records also show three calls to a Byron Sanchez, a guard at OK Pen.”

  “Coincidence, my ass.” Trevor’s hopefulness ratcheted up several degrees at the prospect of having a solid lead to pursue.

  “That’s what I thought, so I made a few phone calls. I found someone willing to talk to me—anonymously—at OK. She said a rumor’s been circulating that someone is paying guards to protect one of the inmates. Another interesting fact, the inmates in the Hamilton kid’s cellblock were complaining about special favors being granted to certain inmates. She didn’t have firsthand experience, because she works in another cellblock, but there’s been talk that the Hamilton kid got private yard time, extra phone calls and care packages from home. You and I both know that kind of protection is never available in the prison system, even the five-star facilities, without a steep price. Which means these guards must be getting some serious cash. I can’t nail Hamilton on anything concrete, but I think we’ve got another piece of the puzzle.”

  Trevor paced the length of his kitchen/dining room combo and back. “So it’s a long shot, but maybe Hamilton’s getting money from someone at Southwestern to pay the guards? What’s his connection to Glaskel? Was Hamilton paying Glaskel to pick up the money that night?” He didn’t expect Denny to answer, but sometimes voicing conjecture out loud yielded surprising results when trying to solve a case.

  “Doesn’t match Hamilton’s MO,” Denny said. “Annie’s been combing through Hamilton’s bank records. Most of his transactions are wire transfers. And there are some contributions from Southwestern to Hamilton’s campaign. I suppose it’s possible the money was intended for Hamilton that night. But it doesn’t make sense that they’d switch up all of a sudden and deal in cash.”

  “And why stage a robbery?”

  “Southwestern might’ve staged the robbery so they could make a fraudulent insurance claim.”

  “Except it was the CEO who originally contacted us about suspicious bookkeeping.”

  “That could’ve been part of the act. Although we’ve made a thorough background check, and the CEO seems legitimately uninvolved.”

  Trevor sighed. “Either way, we’ve got enough on Hamilton to make an arrest, right?”

  “Maybe not an arrest, but FBI turned him over to IRS for further investigation. They’ll put him away for a long time if our hunch about misappropriated money is right.”

  “But that doesn’t solve our crime.”

  “Unless,” Denny said, “we can prove they’re connected. Other than phone records from a dead guy, we haven’t got anything linking Hamilton to the money. Or to Glaskel.”

  Trevor straddled the chair again and drummed his fingers on the table. “Glaskel’s the key. We have to find the connection to Glaskel.”

  If Denny noticed Trevor’s use of the word “we” he let it slide. “Near as we can tell, someone inside Southwestern has been keeping double books for years. And someone else knows about it. I haven’t been privy to any of the Southwestern employees’ interrogations, but I expect we’ll have names soon. If the guilty party is pressured enough, or scared enough, we’ll get our connection between Hamilton and Glaskel. Or maybe Mr. Sanchez will shed some light.”

  The mantle clock chimed its half hour announcement. “Or you might find no connection at all.” Trevor could tell by the deflated tone of his voice that weariness and worry were taking a toll on his body. “Does Glaskel have any relatives working at Southwestern? Maybe he was trying to protect someone.”

  Based on the silence on the other end of the line, Denny was pondering the question. “His presence might make sense if he was there ‘investigating,’ I suppose. He could’ve used the uniform to his advantage if something went wrong.”

  “But it’s out of his jurisdiction.” Trevor slammed a palm on the table, shattering the stillness of the small cabin, like the report of a hunting rifle in a tranquil forest. “He had no business being there. Even if he was there ‘investigating’ for someone at Southwestern, why didn’t he identify himself? He wasn’t using the uniform as cover; he intended to take us out. He had the vest and belt on for protection, not as a ruse.”

  With practiced calm, Denny responded. “I’m working on all of that, Trev. Someone inside Southwestern knows or suspects something. When I get more information, I’ll call you.”

  “I don’t understand why IA still thinks I’m in on this. The CEO confirmed that he came to us.”

  Denny’s sigh mirrored Trevor’s despondency. “You haven’t been ruled out because you shot another cop. Until they know for sure what he was doing there, you’re still under investigation. The bright side here, and there is a bright side, is the focus has switched to Glaskel and the employees at Southwestern. Since this isn’t my investigation, there’s nothing else I can do. I shared what I suspect about Hamilton with Annie because I thought it might help. I trust her. She’s on our side.”

  Trevor rose from the chair and opened the front door. The cabin seemed smaller and hotter as the conversation dragged on. He strained to identify shapes and sounds in the inky realm of unfettered freedom beyond his porch. The evening air, an elixir of dewy grass and farm animals, filled his nostrils. “You know Hamilton’s kid’s out of the pen now, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Careful to keep his voice low so it wouldn’t carry past the open door, Trevor asked, “Your contact at the pen didn’t happen to know where he was headed, did she?”

  “He was released into the custody of his dad. His last known address, before he went to UO, was California. I’d guess that’s where they’re heading.”

  “What are the conditions of his parole?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Call me the minute you hear anything else.”

  “I will.”

  “Tell Noah I said hey.”

  “I will when he’s lucid enough again.” Denny paused. “Don’t do anything stupid, Trevor. This is almost over.”

  Trevor winced at the harsh command. “I never do anything stupid.”

  “Uh huh. You were pretty crazy there for a while before this whole Southwestern thing even happened. Time off will do you good.”

  Trevor leaned a shoulder against the door jamb and turned his head for a view of Ketra’s neighboring cabin. “I told you, I’m over that.” This time, he meant it.

  “I know what you told me. But your carelessness said something else.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “Even Noah was worried about your mission to self-destruct.”

  “Noah knew there was only one person I wanted to destroy.”

  “There you go talking that way again. I’m saying good night now. Before I hear something else I shouldn’t. Besides, it’s not me you have to convince. It’s the therapist. You had any more sessions?”

  Trevor pulled the door closed behind him, sealing himself off from the darkened world beyond his cabin. “Last I checked, he doesn’t make house calls.”

  “You’ll have to get clearance before I can let you come back on duty, you know that.”

  “I’ll go see the shrink. As soon as you tell me I’m off the hook with the media.”

  Trevor punched the off button. Nothing Denny said added up. He could speed things up if he took matters into his own hands. But Denny wouldn’t like it. And he risked termination if he meddled in the investigation. Unless no one found out.

  Chapter Thirty

  Kennedy sauntered down the breezeway toward the tack room, where Ketra set out items for their ride. She and Kennedy were riding for pleasure today in lieu of training. The newly-engaged couple were leaving for the Grand Canyon in the morning. Ketra wanted to spend as much time as possible with her sister before they left.

  �
��I want to ride the mustang,” Kennedy said.

  “Okay.” Ketra handed her a hot pink halter and matching lead rope. “Get her saddled. You sure Marco won’t join us? That little bay gelding next to the mustang is real gentle.”

  “He doesn’t ride, Ket. Stop asking.”

  “That is so weird,” Ketra muttered as she hefted a saddle down from the top rack.

  “What’s weird?” Trevor asked from the doorway.

  “Nothing.” She squeezed past him and upended the saddle on the floor next to the hitching post.

  “That’s not a barrel saddle,” he said.

  “It’s for Ken. She doesn’t need a barrel saddle.”

  She retrieved another saddle, hoisted it onto her shoulder and selected a thick blanket with a bright yellow zigzag pattern to go under it. A stall door opened, followed by the clip clop of metal shoes on the concrete. She placed the second saddle near the first one.

  Trevor leaned against the door jamb as if he were permanently affixed to it. She sidled past with a yellow halter and lead rope for the big buckskin hitched next to Kenny’s much shorter mustang.

  Being careful not to make eye contact with Trevor, she groomed her horse with quick efficient strokes. Twice in the awkward silence, she caught Kennedy’s smirk.

  “Where you headed?” he asked when both saddles were cinched.

  Ketra coaxed the mare to open its mouth for the bit. “Out.”

  “Oh, good. I was afraid you might ride around inside the barn all day.” His sarcasm garnered a quizzical look from Kennedy.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Kennedy asked. “Then you could watch her all day. Never lose sight of her.”

  Trevor glanced at Ketra.

  “Close your mouth, Ket.” Kennedy swung into the saddle. “Won’t hurt Trevor to wonder where you’re at once in a while. Adds a little mystery to the relationship. Keeps the passion alive.”

  Ketra’s brows shot up. “Relationship! Passion?”

  “Stop sputtering. I’ll meet you at the gate.” Kennedy tugged on the reins and trotted out of the barn.