Swerve

by Michelle McGriff

  “Cap’n, you sound like we’re lookin’ for Supergirl,” Aston interjected, bringing laughter from a few others in the room.

  “Yeah, I just think we need to put a flame on the end of that broom of hers and that’ll end that ‘flying’ business,” another one said.

  “Yeah, maybe we just need to put up some posters saying there’s a leather sale at Frederick’s of Hollywood and that’ll get her attention,” another officer taunted.

  Instantly, Tommy realized how her fellow male detectives felt about Romia’s sexy looks. And so what? she thought in response to the jeering. Romia is a good cop but all they see is a woman under that protective leather. Tommy thought about Romia’s looks: Black leather, high heels, motorcycle. Yeah, they see a slut with a badge.

  One of the males jeering Romia turned his attention to her. As a detective, Tommy tried to dress comfortably yet ready for action. She enjoyed wearing her fair amount of leather, but she was more of a tomboy in brown suede. Not Romia. Romia was exotic. They were jealous of what they couldn’t have, Tommy knew this.

  What one of those guys might do if they found Romia suddenly made Tommy’s flesh crawl.

  Romia didn’t deserve the nasty-sounding comments coming from these men. “I’ll bring her in,” Tommy volunteered, speaking above the snide remarks.

  “No, Turner. Your partner is all wrapped up in this…way too close for my comfort.” The captain looked around. “We got asked to help, we said okay. If we see her we’ll nab her. If we don’t, then c’est la vie.”

  “I can bring her in. Nobody else is gonna be able to,” Tommy continued to push.

  “Oh? Since when can you take her?” Aston blurted.

  “Why does everyone think she needs a fight? Has anyone even considered that she might be innocent? Besides, why are you even here? Why didn’t you get suspended like Keliegh?”

  “Maybe because I didn’t do anything wrong. Unlike Keliegh.”

  “He didn’t do anything but keep you from getting your ass kicked…again.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Aston jumped to his feet and so did Tommy. She knew Aston was studying martial arts, but still she could take him. He was big and bulky. Tommy’s skills didn’t match Romia’s, but she could take Aston with no problem.

  “Okay…okay! Let it go, folks,” the captain interjected. “What suspension? I didn’t suspend anybody.”

  “IA suspended Jack because he was obstructing. We had her, Cap’n, and Jack let her go—”

  “You had nothing! Captain, has anyone thought to just talk to her and ask her what happened?” Tommy asked.

  “No,” a few people said in answer to what was meant to be a rhetorical question. Tommy sighed.

  Even Keliegh seemed to be losing hope in Romia coming around, Tommy could tell by their last conversation. Sure, she never really had faith that Romia was innocent, but even with that, everyone deserved a chance. Even Tommy realized that Romia deserved a chance to explain the possibilities of her being innocent. Whoever was looking for her was vicious. By the looks of her own apartment she could tell that. If Romia wasn’t crazy, she was in danger. And if this was how the foreign IA worked, they had some strange policies on search procedures.

  Maybe she needed to visit this Mr. Maxwell guy. He seemed to be the only real lead any of them had toward getting to the bottom of all this.

  Just then, a high level–looking suit walked in the room. He smelled like a fed but there was no way of knowing. He motioned for the captain to follow him. Tommy’s neck stretched as far as it could before Aston’s voice brought her back.

  “Broads…” was all Tommy caught of his comment.

  “What did you say?” Tommy asked him.

  The room broke into challenging woof calls. She looked around for Canasta, the only other female in the precinct, and of course she was missing from this meeting. “I was sayin’ that you broads always stick together!” Aston accused.

  “Broads!” Tommy asked, slamming her hands on her hips, which brought on even more woof calls. “You wanna take this outside? I’ll show you some stickin’. I’ll stick this boot up your ass.”

  “Right,” Aston guffawed, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “I’d take the challenge, Aston. I’d love to get in a headlock with you, Tommy ol’ girl,” another male officer yelled out.

  “Shut up, asshole,” Tommy snapped, pointing her finger at him, but turning her attention back to Aston who still thought the situation was funny. Tommy stepped up to him. They both took a fighting stance. Tommy had had it up to her eyebrows and was prepared to dance Aston all around that room.

  About then, the captain walked back into the room. “Whoa! You two, back away from each other! Now!” he yelled before wiping his brow. “Announcement. We’re off the Smith case—completely.” He stretched out his arms as if calling an out in baseball. He was perhaps calling time out for Aston and Tommy as well.

  “What? Did somebody find her?” Tommy asked.

  The captain’s glare showed though the stare. He was pondering how much to tell her, that was clear. Or, maybe he was pondering her suspension. Who knew? “It’s out of our hands, Turner. Let it go. Okay, everyone. To the streets. We all have something to do that’s more important than this, and now that we’ve wasted a lot of time, we have less to do it in,” he instructed before heading out of the office.

  “Wow, we got all worked up for nothing,” Aston said, following his words with a sarcastic-sounding heavy sigh, holding out his hand to shake Tommy’s. “Truce?”

  Tommy looked at the hand like it was rotted meat. “Screw you, Aston,” she said, before storming out of the meeting room to stop the captain before he hit the elevator that would take him up to his office on the second floor. He never took the stairs, despite his weight issues.

  “Cap’n, you have to tell me what’s up with the Smith case. Did they find her? Tell me somethin’.”

  “Why?”

  “Cap’n, come on now, you can’t just leave me hanging like this. You know I need to know.”

  “Sure I can. And you don’t need to know nutt’n,” he stated bluntly before walking into the open elevator. “I need to know, however, where your partner is, and I also need to know why I shouldn’t suspend him right now,” the captain added before the door closed. Seconds later, Tommy watched him walking above her head into his office and slamming the door.

  Tommy looked around, noticing a few Nosey Roseys watching her. Bob Hetchum was one in particular. He stared so hard that Tommy was drawn to his desk.

  “Wow, Cap’n had some serious issues after that suit stopped in this morning. Where were you, by the way?” she asked, noticing that he and his partner were missing from the morning meeting.

  Hetchum looked around and then back at her. “When Big Brother speaks, somebody gotta listen,” he said under his breath.

  “Big Brother?”

  “Yeah, that suit was CIA.”

  “You shitz’n me?” she asked, trying to hide her immediate shock.

  “Yeah, apparently Smith is in deep on all four corners. First the feds, now the CIA—and who knows who’s next thanks to that nice little massacre out there at the bar.”

  “So what do you know about all this? I’m still kinda in the dark,” Tommy admitted.

  “Well, not much, but my sources tell me that those foreign guys were terrorists.”

  “What?” Tommy blurted.

  Bob shushed her. “Seriously, I’m hearing they were here on”—he made quotation marks around the next word—“business that involved Romia. Seems like our little stone princess isn’t who she seems to be. I mean, phone records, letters, all kinds of shit was found at her place. She’s into all kinds of international stuff,” he exposed. “Sounds wild, I know, but hey, with a swerve, I mean, anything could be going on. I hear her mother was communist.”

  “And if she was, what does that have to do with Romia?”

  “I know. It’s turning into a witch hunt.”

  “And as
I always say about witches, if she is one, I wouldn’t be trying to find out. Okay?” Tommy slid onto the edge of Bob Hetchem’s desk. She watched his eyes cover her thigh and then make their way up to her face. She thought about what her fellow male officers thought about Romia’s sexy ways. Did they think that about her too? She slid back off the desk and stood tall with her hands in her pockets, trying to look manly as possible. “But then, with a swerve, you’re right. I mean, they could be into anything and everything.”

  “Hey, by the way, how is Keliegh doing? I mean, he’s got to be wiggin’ out, Romia trying to kill him and all.”

  “Kill him? She didn’t…” Tommy caught her words. She’d get more information from playing along than resisting. “Yeah, well, I’m sure he’s having it rough. I mean, between him getting suspended and…” Tommy was playing along here. She knew Keliegh hadn’t been suspended but she wanted to play dumb. She wanted to see what Hetchem would tell her.

  “Suspended?” Hetchem gasped. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Same place you heard Romia was tryin’ to kill him, probably? I’m guessin’ the head of IA.”

  Hetchem’s eyes widened. “Head of IA?”

  “Yeah, Maxwell somebody,” Tommy continued to play along. “I was gonna give him a call and…”

  “Nobody in IA named Maxwell,” Bob said, clicking away at his computer instantly. He was a bit of geek. Tommy suspected that he liked her a little bit. He had gone quickly to the data bank to pull up some information on Maxwell, no doubt.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, head of IA is a guy named Roberson,” he confirmed. “And, besides, why would IA have information that would help you? Why would you call them when they haven’t called us?”

  “Really? Nobody from IA has been down here? Wouldn’t you think they would with Romia being a cop and all?”

  “That suit who just left here is the first and only suit to come since this whole mess started.”

  “Wow,” Tommy said, sounding truly impressed. She was, actually. This was the best gossip she’d had so far. “Well, I gotta try something. I mean, Keliegh is my partner.”

  Hetchem looked around suspiciously. “Look, Tom, you need to stay outta this web. The spider’s got a lotta legs and, well, I’d hate to see you get stung. I hear things. I heard things,” he said. “This is the first suit that came, but not the first like”—he made quotation marks in the air—“official type who came here.”

  “Who was the other guy?”

  “Can’t tell you.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Don’t know who he was. I asked Aston, since it seems like they were chums, ya know, but I got nothin’ but a hearty ‘stay out of it.’ So I’m telling you the same thing.”

  “And I hear you,” she responded. He smirked at her. “No, seriously, Bob, I hear you,” she assured. “Did you happen to hear the name Huntington?” she asked. About then, Aston came into earshot of their conversation. Moving over to her desk, Tommy pulled out her cell phone and called Keliegh again; he didn’t answer. Pushing the red button instead of leaving a voice mail, she noticed a call come in from blocked number.

  “Turner,” she answered.

  “Huntington.”

  “Really? Funny you should call me. I was just thinking about calling you,” she said teasingly.

  He chuckled. “That would be rather difficult, don’t you think? I mean, considering I don’t exist.”

  “Exactly, I was gonna use my ‘special directory,’” she said, looking around now as if to see which wall had ears. It was clear to her that he had somehow heard her conversation with Bob. Tommy felt instantly a little freaked out, but she tried not to let it show in her voice. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been seeing and hearing some pretty strange stuff since last night. “So, tell me, my man, what’s really going on?” she asked, sounding like Keliegh in one of his more cocky moods.

  “You really wanna know?”

  “Yeah, I really wanna know. I really do. My partner is involved, so yeah. Lay it on me.”

  He laughed. “You’re funny. Tell you what. Why not meet me at Romia’s place?”

  “Romia’s, why?”

  “Well, I’m already here, so why not?” he answered.

  “Romia with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Yeah, right. You sound so convincing. Mind if I tell Keliegh where we’re meeting in case I disappear after talking to you? Seems like that’s what happens to people who have dealings with you.”

  “They always come back. Look at Aston, he came back.”

  Looking at Aston, she tried to see if maybe he was different somehow, but with Aston who could know? “Yeah, but I bet half his brain is gone. But then again, that is his natural state, I think.”

  Maxwell laughed. “Well, you call your Keliegh, and tell him whatever you want. Hey, you can even call the cops if you want,” Maxwell said with an evil sneer in his voice. Tommy hung up and called Keliegh again; there was no answer.

  Glancing over at Bob Hetchem, she started to inform him of where she was going, but after noticing Aston heading toward him, she went with her gut on this one. It was convincing her that she and Keliegh needed to handle this without a lot of other people involved.

  Maybe we’ll get to the bottom of this without a lot of smoke and mirrors if we just do it his way, she thought regarding Maxwell Huntington.

  Chapter 22

  The Phoenix

  Stone was his name, which he lived up to every day of his life. He was young, cocky, cool, and aloof, with no regard for life. He was the favored of all the Phoenix’s underlings and trusted with many secrets. Stone had little respect for standards set by society and followed out orders given by the Phoenix without question. Thus, he was just this side of educated madness.

  Stone led the team of young assassins and killed without flinching. He had but one weakness, a young French girl named Capri.

  Against the rules, he and Capri became lovers. This decadence led to his demise. He broke the rules to save Capri’s life. This led to him taking a bullet.

  It didn’t matter whose bullet finished him off, in Stix’s opinion. With the command given, Stix took the lead, ushering Capri and Malik to safety. Stix was the leader now and, in his heart, he felt he should be recognized as such.

  Upon their return to the Phoenix’s lair, Stix, hoping to find understanding and perhaps even an ounce of commendation for at least saving Capri and Malik, found only a harsh rebuking.

  “Stone ordered us to leave,” Stix told the Phoenix. “He was dying.”

  “Is this true, Malik?” the Phoenix asked.

  “I…I,” Malik stumbled.

  “He told us to leave,” Stix explained again, wondering why his comrades were hesitating.

  “We didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to leave,” Capri cried.

  “Nor I. Stone insisted,” Malik said now.

  “It is the rules! There was no hesitation. He ordered us to leave,” Stix continued. “He was dying!”

  “And you left!” the Phoenix raged.

  “Yes. We left. It was a command,” Stix pleaded. “He was gut shot. He was going to die. He had lost much blood. So I—”

  “You left my son to die!”

  Malik and Capri looked at each other as if hearing the words for the first time. Many of them had assumed the connection between Stone and the Phoenix, but rarely did they hear it said and so plainly acknowledged.

  “Yes, Phoenix. We left him to die!” Stix screamed now. His emotions were high as he was filled with confusing and growing rage.

  “You now think this puts you in his place. You will never fill his place. He was my son!”

  “We are all your sons,” Stix barked. He was being insubordinate, but no longer cared.

  The Phoenix’s blue eyes blazed like diamonds. He swung on Stix, catching the side of his face in a steel blow. Stix grabbed at the pain. “You are not my son.”

  Suddenly, the Phoenix bayed loudly,
tearing at his clothing. “You left my son to die!”

  Capri turned away, unable to watch the man grieve.

  “I hope it helps to know he started fire after we left. He made sure all the evidence was gone,” Malik said in a low voice.

  At that, the Phoenix’s outcries ceased abruptly. “A fire?”

  “Yes,” Malik said, before breaking down in tears.

  Chapter 23

  Romia drove to the city, ending up back at the church. She was drawn there. She was tired and wanted to rest, if just for a moment. Maybe there her mother would answer her. Maybe through the paintings her mother would speak to her. The paintings in this place soothed her. They made her feel close to her mother again. The haunting pictures of the elusive bird seemed oddly out of place against the biblical symbols yet, then again, so apropos for her feelings right now.

  Parking her bike around the back, she climbed off and quickly tiptoed up to the back door. Trying the knob, she found it locked. “You act like churches are twenty-four-hour drive-thrus,” she fussed at herself before covering her fist with her jacket sleeve. With one quick punch she took out the stained glass window inlay. Surprisingly enough there was no alarm set…at least, not one she heard. Within seconds she was inside the darkened church. Feeling her way, she made it to a pew. “I’m not sure why I’m here, but here goes,” she whispered before dropping to her knees as if to pray. “I’m not even sure where to begin,” she whispered again.

  Just then her cell phone rang. “What” she answered. She’d turned off all GPS signals and so had to wonder who was calling her. Who had found her?

  “Maxwell.”

  “How come I’m not surprised?”

  “You should be.”