Brooklyn Bounce (Alex Taylor Book 3)

by Andrew G. Nelson

  Alex reached out and took his hand in her and placed her shield in it. “Tag, you’re it, junior.”

  Hutch looked down at the badge in his hand, a mix of fear and confusion on his face.

  “But, chief, you’re the chief,” he stammered.

  “Apparently not right now,” Alex replied. “Right now I’m gonna go home and get hammered while the rest of you wonderful sonofabitches do your damndest to keep my pretty little ass out of jail, capiche?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Hutch replied.

  “Good, send someone over tonight to pick-up the car. The keys will be inside, don’t bother ringing the doorbell, I’ll be passed out by then.”

  “Boss,….”

  “Don’t say anything, just do your job.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They watched as Alex turned and walked out of the office, then Hutch looked over at Abby who seemed in a state of shock.

  “I don’t believe this,” she whispered.

  “You?” Hutch asked. “What about me? I don’t know the first thing about being the chief of police.”

  “Then I suggest we do everything we can to get her back to work.”

  “But what if there was no gun?” Hutch asked.

  Abby looked around the room and then nodded toward Alex’s office. Hutch followed her inside and she closed the door behind her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “This can’t leave this room, Hutch. Do you understand that?”

  “Yeah, Abs, what are you talking about?”

  “I swear, chief or no chief, I will kick your ass.”

  “Abby, you know me better than that,” Hutch said. “Just tell me what you know.”

  “I’m worried about her,” Abby said. “She’s been having a rough time with the Childers’ case.”

  “Well, I don’t think any of us have had an easy time with that one.”

  “No, I mean she has been having a really rough time, like nightmares and not being able to sleep, that kind of rough time.”

  “You think it might be affecting her?” Hutch asked.

  “I don’t know, I don’t want to think so, but I just don’t know,” Abby said. “What if she only thought she saw a gun?”

  “You think it’s that serious?”

  “She’s been exhausted lately,” Abby said.

  “Look, this might be something we should tell Nichols,” Hutch said.

  “No, not yet,” Abby replied. “If they think she’s losing it, they might not investigate as hard as they should and right now we need to do what we can to find those other witnesses. If we can’t, well then we can go to Nichols, but if we do it now they might stop looking.”

  “We don’t have much time,” he said. “If we wait too long it will look like we are covering for her.”

  “Then we’d better make sure we find someone to corroborate her story quickly.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Susan laid on the couch, her head resting in Tatiana’s lap, as the woman watched the evening news. She stared up at the wood beams of the ceiling, as the woman gently stroked her head. She felt like she was in a trance. Her body was completely relaxed and her eyes lazily followed the wood grain of one particular section. The more intently she stared, the more she imagined that she could see figures within the detailing.

  “Can I ask you a question, Tee?”

  “You can ask me anything you want, my love,” the woman replied, turning the volume down on the television and setting the controller on the coffee table.

  “Why don’t you like your name?”

  “What do you mean?” Tatiana asked. “I love my name.”

  “No, I mean your real name,” Susan said, sitting up on the couch and looking at the woman.

  It had been just over a year since the two women had met that fateful night in Key West. Susan had been immediately drawn to the woman from the moment she had first laid eyes on her at the beachside restaurant.

  Tatiana was tall, attractive and seemed to exude equal parts of confidence and sexuality. At first Susan had thought she was just a tourist, down in the Key’s for Spring Break, and someone she could have a quick fling with, but soon she learned that they shared a much deeper bond.

  During the ensuing months Tatiana’s role had run the gamut from lover to teacher to maternal figure, but, for as much as they had shared, Susan still felt that she purposefully kept a part of herself from her.

  “That part of me is dead,” Tatiana said with a frown, as she picked up her drink from the end table and took a sip.

  They’d been down this road so many times before.

  “I know,” Susan replied. “I get it. My past is dead as well, but that doesn’t mean that it is dead to you.”

  When they had first met each of them had lied to the other about their true identities. At the time Susan was using the identity she had stolen from one of her victims, Hannah Kurtz. Over time, as their relationship moved from just a sexual to a more intimate one, she had dropped the alter-ago and had reverted back to Susan, at least when it came to her. She had shared her story, even the ugly parts. It was her attempt at being completely honest; exposing herself to her companion, but Tatiana had never reciprocated. In many ways, Tatiana still remained an enigma to her.

  Hannah knew her story, but sometimes she really questioned whether or not she truly knew the real story. Tatiana had shared the details about the abandonment, the love, the abuse and the torture, but it was almost as if she was telling someone else’s story. Even finding out her real name, Patricia Browning, had been something Susan had stumbled upon by accident.

  She had pieced together enough clues that one day she started doing a search. It didn’t take too long before she’s found articles about the accident. She followed one link after the other; like she was uncovering some long lost family history. In many ways it seemed like she was reading about someone else.

  In fact, the only one she ever seemed to talk about with any real semblance of affection was the one person who seemed to have hurt her the deepest, Keith Banning. It seemed odd to her that Tatiana would hold him in such reverence, but even when she talked about how he had broken her it was never with any remorse. In a way, it was Banning who she credited with setting her free from what she had been. Tatiana always said that being under his tutelage was like her chrysalis and that when she emerged on the other side she had been transformed into a beautiful butterfly of death.

  Unfortunately, a part of Susan craved to know the real Patricia Browning, to have her share something truly intimate with her. She felt that it was the last remaining barrier to the two of them having a true relationship and that was something she feared would never happen.

  “You know I love you, baby,” Tatiana said. “It’s just that there is too much ugliness in my past and I don’t want to bring that into our present or our future.”

  “But everyone, even your enemies, knows you as Tatiana, why can’t I have something different?”

  “You have something they will never have,” Tatiana replied. “You have me.”

  “That’s the point, Tee,” Susan said, her voice tinged with exasperation. “I don’t have you, I have Tatiana. Please don’t get me wrong, I love you, but there are times I crave something deeper, something more meaningful than what everyone else has.”

  “You’re asking me to bring something into our relationship that I feel is tainted,” Tatiana said.

  Susan got up and stood in front of Tatiana. She rested her hands on the woman’s shoulders, straddling her legs, and sat down.

  “Nothing about you is tainted, Tee” Susan said, looking into her eyes. “I love who you are, the good and the bad.”

  “You’re so sweet,” Tatiana said, as she brushed a strand of hair from Susan face.

  “I just want you to trust me enough to give me that part of you as well,” Susan said.

  “I will,” Tatiana lied, “one day. Just be patient with me.”

  “Promise?”

&nb
sp; “I promise.”

  Susan kissed her softly, feeling Tatiana’s arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close. She began to playfully grind herself against Tatiana.

  “Don’t start anything you don’t plan on finishing.”

  “Have I ever not finished anything I started with you, Tee?”

  “Mmmmmm,” Tatiana purred.

  She was just about to suggest they move into the bedroom when something on the television screen caught her attention.

  “Where’s the controller?”

  Susan sighed, reaching behind her, and grabbed the controller.

  “Here,” she said dejectedly, giving it to Tatiana, as she climbed off her lap.

  A pretty looking auburn haired reporter, wearing a drab grey pantsuit, was on the screen doing a live shot from the front of Penobscot City Hall.

  “Our sources say that the officer involved in the shooting, Chief Alexandria Taylor, has been with the Penobscot Police Department since July of 2012. Prior to that we are being told she was with the New York City Police Department, but we are still trying to confirm that, Chet.”

  “What do we know about the shooting, Kristin?” the studio anchor asked.

  “Well, according to a press release issued by the State’s Attorney’s Office, Chief Taylor had entered the Quick Mart convenience store this morning when she encountered the suspect, identified as eighteen-year-old Chase Akins, of rural Ellard. At some point an altercation occurred and Mr. Akins was killed.”

  “Have the authorities indicated if he was armed.”

  “That’s the issue at hand, Chet,” the woman replied. “According to her statement, Chief Taylor said she observed a gun, however none was recovered at the scene. Chief Taylor is currently on leave, pending the outcome of the investigation. Police are asking anyone who witnessed the incident to please contact their local law enforcement agency.”

  “Kristin Stuart, reporting live from Penobscot,” The anchorman said, as the camera panned to him and his female co-host.

  “This incident appears to be the second questionable police shooting in the past two weeks, Chet,” the anchorwoman said. “If you remember, an unarmed Chicago teen was gunned down by police who were responding to a report of a robbery.”

  “Yes, Liz, at some point we need to ask the question if we are doing enough to prevent these types of senseless murders. Next up, our meteorologist, Tom Beatty, will let us know if we are going to need the umbrella this weekend.”

  “Well isn’t that an interesting turn of events,” Tatiana said, turning off the television.

  “Why?” Susan asked.

  “It looks like you screwed her over pretty good by picking up that gun.”

  “Sucks to be her, I guess.”

  “Yes, but it is also something we can exploit.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that an unarmed target is a lot more attractive than an armed one.”

  “Dear God, Tatiana, you can’t be serious.”

  “Why not? She’s not immortal.”

  “She’s a cop,” Susan protested, “she’s not like our usual marks.”

  “Granted, there is a bit of a risk,” Tatiana replied, “but it’s not something we can’t overcome.”

  “I don’t believe this.”

  “I thought you said you wanted to go after her?”

  “And I thought you were the one that questioned me if it was wise,” Susan replied.

  “I did,” Tatiana said, “but what’s life without a little risk? I mean it isn’t like we haven’t gotten our hands dirty before.”

  “But this is different, Tee. She’s a cop.”

  “Not anymore she isn’t,” Tatiana replied. “She killed a kid and, thanks to you, no one is ever going to find that gun. Face it, she’s never going to carry a badge again. Hell, she’ll be lucky if they don’t put her ass away in prison.”

  “You think they will?” Susan asked.

  “They might. Things seem to be decidedly anti-police these days. If a grand jury indicts her they might easily move forward with a manslaughter case.”

  “Damn,” Susan exclaimed, as she considered the cops potential fate.

  “Yeah, that’s going to be fucked up,” Tatiana mused. “Imagine going to jail for something you’re innocent of, huh? Oh well, it’s not like that shit never happens, right?”

  Susan sat on the couch, staring at the blank television screen, a mixture of emotions competing for her attention. There was a part of her that enjoyed playing this game with the cop, but she never actually intended for it to ever get to this level and that struck her as a bit odd.

  How many innocent people had her and Tee killed? she wondered.

  Dozens and she’d never felt any remorse over any of them.

  She admitted that in the beginning it was personal for her. She’d targeted people who’d personally hurt her, like her parents, Lou Jenkins, that little cock whore Paige Wilson. Once she had settled up old scores with her past, the majority of her later victims were just perverts, older men or women, who had a thing for young girls. She’d pick them up and give them a taste of what they wanted. Then Tee would come in to ship them off to the afterlife, but when it came to Tatiana’s chosen victims, she was a bit different and there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason. Tee had shared with her, early on, that she had also targeted people who’d hurt her, but lately it seemed she’d go after people who just wore the wrong colored shirt to the bar. She just seemed to enjoy the act of killing.

  “It’s a tough thing,” Tatiana mused.

  “What’s that?” Susan replied.

  “Knowing someone will spend the rest of their life behind bars because of something you did.”

  “I never wanted that,” Susan said. “I just wanted to screw with her head a little.”

  “Look, I know you don’t like the idea, but maybe putting her out of her misery is the more humane thing to do.”

  Susan thought about that.

  The topic of prison was one they had both discussed at length. Neither of them was a big fan of the idea, nor did they have any illusions that they would be serving anything less than life in prison without the possibility of parole. It was one thing to actually be guilty, but she couldn’t imagine how it would feel for someone who was innocent.

  “What are you suggesting?” Susan asked.

  “We scope things out,” Tatiana said with a smile. “If it doesn’t look feasible then we walk away and let karma dictate her fate.”

  “And if it does look feasible?”

  “If it does look feasible then we do what we always do,” Tatiana replied, as she brought her hand up, her fingers mimicking the shape of a gun, and fired off an imaginary bullet. “We send her off with a bang.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Alex laid in the darkened bedroom, staring up at the ceiling fan, and watched as it spun around methodically; its blades eerily lit up by the moonlight streaming through the window. She glanced over at the alarm clock. It was just after 2 a.m.

  She had gone to bed hours earlier, mentally and physically exhausted, but she laid in her bed afraid to go sleep; wondering if her dreams tonight would be visited by Cory Childers or would Chase Akins now take his place.

  When she closed her eyes she could see the young man’s face, the pale skin, and the cold, lifeless eyes staring up at her. A kid, who was barely old enough to shave, was now dead because of her.

  Alex got up and sat on the edge of the bed. She felt like shit and she desperately wanted a drink, but her cupboard was currently dry. She grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the night table and lit one up.

  Had she really seen a gun? she wondered. Could her mind, in its exhausted state, have played a trick on her?

  No, she knew what she had seen. Now it was up to the investigators to identify the witness who had been in the store and track them down. Maybe one of them had picked it up.

  But why would anyone take a gun from a robbery and not turn it in?

&nb
sp; It seemed that the deck had been cruelly stacked against her; missing witnesses, no video and no gun. On top of that she’d been hung out to dry for political expediency.

  “You had to see that one coming,” she said, taking a drag on her cigarette.

  Alex was never one to back down from a fight; not when she was a kid and certainly not when she’d become a cop. An unfortunate side-effect was that she routinely knocked elbows with everyone from school officials to her superiors within the police department. However, she was also smart enough to know that if she was going to fight, not only did she need to win, but she also needed to be right.

  Unfortunately, it was also this defensible righteousness which often led to her biggest blowouts; case in point, the Penobscot Town Board. On one hand Alex enjoyed it, especially the vociferous go-rounds with Sheldon Abbott, but on the other hand it did very little to win her friends. She used to openly mock the ass-kissers, those who acquiesced to petulant little bosses, in order to further their careers, but at the end of the day they had all kept their asses while Alex routinely had hers chewed-out or in some instances chewed-off.

  Tonight she was reminded that, while she had been on the winning side of most of the battles with the board, no one was going to go out on a limb to come to her aid.

  “Well you certainly showed them, didn’t you, Alexandria Marie?” she said sarcastically, as she crushed the cigarette out in the ash tray.

  Alex got up and headed off to the bathroom to take a shower. There was no use pretending that she was going to be able to sleep. If she was going to be an insomniac at least she was going to be productive. One of the joys of living in a quaint, rustic house in the country was that there was always shit to be done.

  ●●●

  “Do you see anything?” Susan asked, as she sat in the back seat of the car.

  “No, it’s all quiet,” Tatiana replied, gazing out the back window toward the darkened house through the night vision monocular.

  They were in the same parking lot on Lake Moriah that Susan had taken them to a few months earlier. It was the very same lot where she had first seen Alex since the cabin incident. To quote Yogi Berra, ‘It seemed like Déjà vu, all over again.’