by Mikey Lee
“What do you mean you’ve got a tricky one?” The Captain didn’t even look up from writing what ever it was that he was scribbling.
“One of my suspects might be Ben Franklin.” Seth mumbled.
Dropping the pen out of his hand while still looking down at the paper on top of the desk, the Captain spoke, “Please, for the love of all that is good and holy in this world. Please tell me you’re not talking about the fuckin’ boxer Ben ‘The Lighting’ Franklin… the fucking world motherfucking champion, Ben Franklin.” The Captain looked up at Seth, “Your little butt-buddy Moore has already cost this damn department enough money in lawsuits this year alone. You cannot fuck this up Lane.”
“Listen, Detective Moore’s sexual harassment lawsuits have nothing to with me or anything that I investigate. I would hope that you know me by now that I’m more competent, and certainly more professional, than Detective Moore. And for the record, he’s not my butt-buddy.” Seth argued.
“Yeah yeah, just don’t fuck this up.” The Captain replied.
“Capt., c’mon… the good news is this, it’s probably not even him. My gut is telling me that it’s more than likely some stupid fuckin’ horny ass cab driver.” Seth said, easing the tension. “But, just to be on the safe side… and I know you’re not going to want to hear this; but, can I get you to have the judge issue a Person of Interest Warrant on Franklin?”
A long sigh exited the Captain’s lungs before he spoke. “God damn it Lane… if you’re wrong about his… if he comes back and sues this department, it’s coming out of your own pay fuckin’ checks.” Leaning back in his chair, looking at Seth’s face, a sense of confidence replaced the nervousness feeling in the air. “You’ve got it. I’ll call the judge in a few. Only because he’s a flight risk…you’ve got it.”
“Thanks Capt.”
“Don’t fucking thank me… just don’t fuck this up, I’ll be the one thanking you when this is all said and done.”
Seth performed his about step as he exited the Captains office, “I was actually talking about reassigning Ashley, Capt.”
Closing his office door behind him, Seth pulled out his cell phone and called Zee. In her groggy, still asleep voice she answered. “Hey baby, I was just dreaming about you.”
“Wow, you weren’t joking, you really did sleep until the crack of noon, huh?”
“Hells yeah, and its great. Hey, I’ve gotta tell you, you really beat the hell out of my pussy last night. Gawd, I’m sore.” Zee said with a yawn, trying to wake up.
“Well hell, bunches, I’ve actually got some more bad news for ya.”
“Let me guess, you’ve got another case?” Zee said, being her supportive self, “Is everything ok?”
“Bunches, you have no idea… today is one of those days, I tell you. This case is going to be a nightmare for me. My victim believes that the boxer, Ben Franklin, is my suspect, and now, Captain Barrett has assigned the old desk sergeant as my new partner. So, not only do I have to deal with a high profile case, I’m teaching Hart the ropes.”
A high pitched noise squeaked out of Zee. “Not exactly an easy case for your new partner to start out with.” Zee said, mocking Seth. She paused thoughtfully, “You think you can get me Franklin’s autograph?”
Chuckling back, “No, no I guess not… and I’ll see what I can do.” Seth needed that small vent. “Thank you for always being so supportive baby, what would I do without you? But hey, no big deal. I’ve got a feeling this may be a really fast case… I’m thinking the taxi drive got a little too excited last night and now he’s going to have to deal with me.”
“Well good luck, and maybe I’ll actually get to see you for dinner one of these days.” Zee said.
5
Ashley walked in the precinct with the evidence bag tightly clenched in her hand. Expecting to see Seth sitting at his desk, she looked around and glanced over to the break room to see if he’s getting coffee. He wasn’t. With his eyes magnetized to her ass, Detective Moore approached her from behind.
“You lookin’ for Lane?” He said, sounding like he was about to start singing ‘Ashley and Seth sitting in a tree’.
“Yeah, have you seen him?” Ashley responded as she gazed over at the Captain’s office.
“Yup, he’s in the armory.” Moore said moving his eyes and head from her ass to her boobs yet again.
“Thanks, jackass.” Ashley muttered under her breath as she made a beeline for the armory doors.
As Ashley walked off, Moore mumbled, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do in there.”
Ashley cocked her head back as she walked away, “Are you ever not going to be an asshole, Moore? Isn’t that pending lawsuit teaching you anything?”
Seth stood at the counter facing the departments auto progressive press when Ashley walked in.
“What is that machine?” Ashley said, announcing herself as she entered the armory.
“This is a press for reloading or loading your own ammunition.” Seth said.
“You make your own ammo?” Ashley said, becoming more and more impressed with him.
“Well, yeah. But I’m not making these for me, these here are for you.” Seth looked over at her.
He spun around and leaned his back against the counter, lifting his arms up placing both hands on the edge of the counter top.
“Here’s the deal, girl. At the academy you were trained with the police issue standard .40 cal. Glock. Today, you’re carrying a .45 caliber Kimber 1911. My question to is why?” Seth looked at Ashley’s face, “Is it because that’s what I carry?”
Ashley rolled her eyes straight up looking slightly embarrassed, “You’re the best, the best at what you do. I guess I kinda figured that there was some kind of reason why you carry such a hand cannon.” Ashley adjusted her eyes back down, this time trying to hide the fact that she was admiring the ripples of Seth’s abs through his clean, freshly pressed, button-down shirt. “I guess I also kinda figured that you would tell me why one of these days.”
“AL-righty then. Today is the day.” Seth popped up from leaning on the counter. “You said you want to be the best, you have to know everything about yourself. In this case, your sidearm is a part of yourself. I’m going to teach you the basics, and its up to you to practice. Come on over here, look at all this.” Seth’s hand waved over the counter and displayed the layout that he’s already set up. “Over here we’ve got everything you need to make ammunition. You’ve got the casing, primer, gun powder, and round. Take note…nowhere did I say the word bullet.”
“So why do you make them yourself? Wouldn’t be easier to just get a box of rounds off the armory shelf?” Ashley questioned.
“Good question, let me show you.” Seth grabbed a box of rounds off the shelf and pulled the scale over to him. He opened the box and pulled two random rounds out, placing one round down on the scale, taking note of the weight. Then he placed the other one down. “You see how these two rounds are actually different weights?” Seth pointed. “That’s because the lead and/or the gun powder aren’t exactly matched. All of these details can make quite a bit of difference in the accuracy of your shots.”
Seth went on explaining the importance of making sure the gun powder was properly weighed out. Ashley took note that 250 grains of gun powder was 0.5714 oz. on the scale. Seth also explained that she wanted to make sure that each lead round was matched with weight on the scale as well.
“Once you have everything matched up perfectly, we then use this auto progressive press. This press seats the round into the casing and crimps the brass down on the lead round.” Seth continued.
“So why do you use the .45 and not the .40 caliber?” Ashley glanced at his arms as he pulled downward on the press, squeezing the round into place which flexed his biceps.
“Hmmm, quick answer? I would have to say for personal preference. The long answer… you see, the 9mm is a great round for range and accuracy; the .45 caliber is fantastic for stopping power, also known as kinetic energ
y. When they came up with the idea for the .40 cal. I think they were going for a mixture of both the kinetic energy and the range of the 9mm. Instead, it’s my opinion that the .40 ended up with the negative results of both.” Seth looked over at Ashley, “Here’s the deal, if for some outrageous event, I actually have to pull my weapon on someone… I’m not looking to shoot him from a long distance away, that’s what a rifle is for. But if I do, I want to put that fucker on the ground with one shot. And with a .45 it’s like getting hit by a fuckin truck at two hundred miles an hour.”
Squeezing down on the press, Seth locked down the last round for a rack of fifty and slid the rack to Ashley. Leaning over to the other countertop he grabbed the case file and slapped it down in front of her.
“Here, look through this and tell me what you notice.” Seth’s deep bass-filled voice slightly echoed in the room, as he wiped his hands down with a shop rag from the grease of the press.
Ashley opened the case file and started skimming through the notes. “What are these arrows next to the questions and answers from the victim?”
“Those are where Kathy’s eyes went when I asked her each question.”
“What does that mean? Why do you always talk about people’s eyes?” Ashley looked up.
Tossing the towel on the counter, Seth responded, “The eyes of someone tell you more about what happened then the answers that come out of their mouths. Sure, what they say is good. But, if you wanna get the real answer from someone, watch their eyes.”
“How so? How does someone’s eyes tell the story?” Ashley leaned against the counter poking a hip out, trying to flirt with her curves.
“Look at the notes and tell me—what do you note with all the arrows?” Seth pointed down at the case file.
Thumbing through, Ashley responded, “All the arrows are pointed at the two-o’clock or six-o’clock position.” Ashley shook her head, still confused.
Seth dropped his left leg back away from the counter and drew his side arm. All in one swift motion he removed the clip and racked the slide, ejecting the chambered round on to the table.
“It’s called nystagmus. The uncontrolled eye movements people do.” Seth continued to take apart his 1911, placing each piece neatly on the countertop.
“Ah, this is what they taught us in the academy for drunk drivers, right?” Ashley chimed in.
With the 1911 fully disassembled Seth responded, “Umm, kinda. This is more of a biological reaction to emotional stimuli rather than a substance reaction.” Seth reached for a clean shop rag. “Nystagmus is used more for interviewing and interrogation purposes. It’s also known as the art of deception.”
“So how does this help you in an interview with the victims?” Ashley asked.
“Well, that’s actually a good question. In this case, our victim believes that her attacker is a known celebrity—not that I didn’t believe her—but we as the investigators need to be very cautious about who the accused is. And the media would have a field day with this one.” Seth said, while cleaning and wiping down each and every little piece of the 1911.
His strong and powerful fingers, yet gentle hands work on cleaning his sidearm, while Seth continued to explain. “There are three ways a person learns and thinks… auditory, visually, and kinetically. The first thing you have to do is figure out how they think… getting in their heads as they call it. If they’re a visual learner, they’re going to look up. If they are an auditory, or sound learner, they’re going to look to the side… left and right. Then you have the trickiest of them all, the hands on learners. They look down. This is tough because it’s a common reaction for someone who’s ashamed of something they’ve done to tilt their head down, not just their eyes.”
Ashley’s brain raced trying to file this information away in her brain housing group.
Seth picked up the lower receiver of the 1911, briefly looked it over and began scrubbing it down with the rag. “The next thing you need to do is figure out their truthful side from their imaginary side. You ask them nonthreatening questions like, ‘what color was your first car’. You see ‘first car’ makes them think about the answer. Since color is a visual thing, they’re going to look up, but because that’s not really anything to lie about, then they’re going to either look left or right to figure out the answer. So, they look up and to the left… boom!” Seth plopped the lower receiver down on the countertop.
Ashley looked up in somewhat amazement of how many different parts there are to a .45 caliber 1911. “I get it, so if you ask them a visual question that involves them to think about it and they look up and to the left instead of to the right, the answer isn’t one hundred percent truthful. Right?”
“Yeah, exactly… but you can’t just come out and ask some random dumb question, you’ve gotta be creative and work it in to normal conversation.” Seth began putting his sidearm back together.
“Is that why you take so many notes?” Ashley said glancing back down at the case file.
“During the interview with the victim, my focus is to try to make that person feel comfortable, at ease. I’ve gotta make them feel like I’m on their side. I need to earn their trust. Think about it, if you just got kicked in the face by a horse yesterday, are you going to want to go horseback riding today?” Seth racked the slide back and forth, testing the mechanics of the 1911. “Me, being a guy, I’m the last person these ladies wanna talk to about this.”
Ashley’s thoughts jump directly from the case to the gutter. There’s a hell of a lot more that she wants to do with to Seth, and talking ain’t one of them. She just can’t seem to control herself when she hears his voice. The sexual tension builds more and more everyday she gets a glimpse of a new portion of his body that she hasn’t seen before. At least it does for her. She can’t quite figure him out. When Seth walks into the precinct in his suit he is eye candy, but now, she struggled not to drool. Standing there with his sleeves rolled up on his forearms is just one more piece of his naked body that got stored away in her memory bank.
6
After going through and reviewing all the notes in the case file, Seth packed some freshly created rounds into his clips. He slid two of the clips in the holster on his belt located just over his right butt cheek. Ashley’s eyes followed his hand back, watching him brush his suit jacket away from covering his bubble.
“So, tell me what you think?” Seth said.
“Based off the notes and looking at the arrows,” Ashley snapped back to focus. “It looks like Mr. Franklin attacked Kathy.”
“You’ve gotta actually listen to what she’s saying not just how she’s saying it.” Seth picked up a single round and glided it in the chamber with his finger tips.
Ashley blinked her eyes and licked her bottom lip.
With his thumb, Seth released the slide stop, shooting the slide home, which fully chambered a round. “You gotta remember. Kathy doesn’t actually know who it was. In her mind she thinks it was Franklin. And it very well could have been. At this point I don’t know.” Slapping a full clip of eight more rounds into the magazine well, Seth holstered his side arm on his left hip. “Where do you think we should start?”
Ashley tilted her head back down to the case file hoping the answer was in there. “Ummm.”
“Stop, stop. Let’s use logic… where would you start?” Seth asked once again.
“I’d… I’d say we should go interview Franklin.” Ashley said, second guessing herself.
“Yeah, we could do that… but based on the time line of events. We don’t have one… so we need to back track. Right? Who was the last person that saw Kathy that night?” Seth asked rolling down his sleeves and adjusting his suit jacket.
“Hmmm, it was the manager… Franklin’s manger walked her out.” Ashley now said with confidence.
Seth started making his way to the armory door, “It was the taxi driver. And don’t forget those rounds I made for you.” He said as he walked out of the door. Right before the armory door closed behind hi
m he reminded her, “And don’t forget the evidence you picked up from Kathy’s house.”
Ashley followed him out with her arms full and met Seth at the coffee counter. “What do I do with the evidence bag?”
“What all did you get from Kathy’s place?” Seth asked just before sipping on his cup of coffee.
“I got everything you asked for. Her underwear, pants, socks, and shirt.” Ashley said, fumbling around trying to put the rack of rounds in her jacket pocket.
“Cool, ok then… let’s go.” Seth said walking toward the steps leading down to the forensics lab.
Breaking through the lab doors Seth loudly announced himself. “Hey hey guys! What up fellas…”
The shorter, chubbier kid with glasses looked up from behind the computer screen. “Hey, Detective Lane.” He said, glad to see him.
The taller one spun around in his stool, “Laaane! Sup man...” He stood up and walked over to give Seth the male greeting, a hand locking chest bump hug. “What’s new man?”
“Hey guys… have y’all met Ashley yet? She’s going to be helping me out from now on.” Seth said, putting his coffee down on the lab counter.
“Oh hey man… not there.” The taller kid said, pointing at the coffee cup before moving the coffee cup to the desk. “There’s some nasty stuff over there you don’t want to mix with your coffee.”
“Yeah, the whole precinct is talking about it… and we kinda figured we would be meeting her really soon. We saw Detective Moore was with another girl in your office this morning.” The chubby kid said.
Seth looked at Ashley, motioning with his eyes and a head nod, meaning to say ‘go on, introduce yourself’.
“Hey guys, I’m Ashley… Ashley Hart. Its actually nice to finally meet you guys, instead of quick phone calls.”
“Hello there Ashley, I’m Melvin… you used to be the front desk Sergeant right?” The tall skinny kid said.