by Jamie Hill
Stone rose, a look of renewed determination on his face. "I understand." He walked out, closing the door behind him.
Satisfied the detective would do all he could, Nate picked up the phone and dialed.
"Marshall."
"It's Willis. I need your help."
"Hey. I hear the brass put the kibosh on helping Mel. I was specifically instructed to stay out of it."
Disappointment flooded through Nate. "Oh."
"So what do you want me to do?"
Nate could almost see the twinkle in Marshall's eye. He breathed a sigh of relief. "We need to get a handle on Sheila. Mel said when they brought her to the station her story had taken a complete one-eighty. Something about Webb hiring her for the night and them having consensual sex, which is bullshit. She looked terrified when we untied her."
"She definitely was. I stayed with her for a while at the hospital, made sure she was taken care of and given some clean clothes. When I left there was a uniform at the door. He was going to take her to the station when they cut her loose."
"Can you follow up on that? See if she had any visitors, that sort of thing? And for God's sake, find Sheila. She's gone underground. I know she's scared, but ducking out is a crummy thing to do to her three favorite people in the whole world."
Marshall chuckled. "I'll be in touch."
"Thanks." Nate hung up, thoughts still racing through his mind. He fully believed what he told Stone about time being of the essence. IA didn't seem interested in clearing Mel's name. Once they'd completed their investigation and held a hearing, she was totally at their mercy. In other words, as good as gone.
* * * *
Mel wandered through her empty house, at loose ends. She wanted to call Nate but knew he couldn't get anything done with her bothering him. When her doorbell rang she jumped, then hurried to answer it, happy for the distraction.
She hesitated. What if the media learned my name? Mel peered out the peephole. Her father stood on the porch, hands full with two cups of coffee and a brown paper bag.
She opened the door. "Hey! What are you doing here?"
"Where should I be?" He pushed past her and stepped in. "I bought ice cream then I realized it's ten-thirty in the morning. Your mother wouldn't have approved. So I stopped for lattes."
"Yum to both." Mel took the bag and looked inside. "Mom would have approved of Rocky Road, don't fool yourself." She and both parents had spent many hours celebrating and commiserating life events over containers of Rocky Road ice cream.
She carried the bag to the kitchen and rearranged stuff in the freezer so it would fit. Spotting some of the casseroles she'd prepared the week before she called, "Remind me to send food home with you. I froze some stuff last week, before I got so wrapped up in the case." She returned to the front room.
Cappie set one latte by her chair and carried the other to the sofa, where he settled. "Are you sure you don't need the food for your guest?"
Mel rolled her eyes. She curled up in her chair, tucking her feet beneath her. "I'm a big girl, daddy. I think I'm old enough to have guests without your approval."
He sipped his coffee and shrugged. "I never said you didn't have my approval. You could do much worse than an FBI agent who was a decorated war veteran."
She blinked. "How do you know he was a decorated veteran?"
"He told me. Last night, at the station. You were busy but we had hours with nothing to do besides talk. He told me lots of things." He took another drink. "Then I went home and Googled him."
"Daddy!" Mel protested, not really unhappy. She would have done the same thing if she'd had time. Their week together had gone by like a whirlwind. "So what else did he tell you?"
He smiled. "I'm liking this 'daddy' business. You haven't called me that in years, and now I've gotten it three times in the last twenty-four hours. Why did you stop, anyway?"
Mel thought about it as she sipped her latte. "I couldn't call you 'daddy' in front of other cops. I was protecting the family honor I guess."
"The day they pinned that badge on you was one of the proudest days of my life. Our family honor was never in jeopardy. I'd say you sealed that deal nicely."
She glanced at him over the rim of her cup. "Can you still say that after last night? I feel like I've let you down."
"Melanie Ann Curtis!" His voice was gruff. "Look at me. Did you do anything wrong?"
"No, Sir." She batted her eyes rapidly to blink back impending tears.
"Don't ever think you let me down. Someone is railroading you, without a doubt. It's a pisser, but bad things happen to good people all the damn time. Especially cops. We have to pick ourselves up and go on."
"I hope I can." Tears broke loose, forming trails down her cheeks. "I hope I still have a job to return to."
He set his cup down and held out his arms.
Mel deposited her latte next to his and fell into his arms, crying as he cradled her.
When her heaving sobs eventually slowed, Cappie pulled out his handkerchief and dried her face. "Where's Nate? What's he doing about all this?"
She sniffled. "He's at the department, working with Henry and Brady, trying to figure it out."
"I'm glad." He smoothed her hair. "I think you're in good hands, Mel."
She curled up in his strong arms. "I know I am, Daddy."
He kissed the top of her head and held her tight for the better part of the next hour.
* * * *
Mel finally pulled herself together and sat up. Her latte had grown cold and she was seriously considering breaking out the ice cream.
Her father stood and stretched. "Ready for some Rocky Road?"
She smiled. "Absolutely."
He left and returned with the carton and two spoons. He sat next to her and they scraped the top of the frozen confection.
Mel tasted the sweet chocolate and sighed, allowing a small smile. "This is good. Thanks for thinking of it."
"Anything for you, kiddo."
"So…." She licked her spoon. "What else did Nate tell you last night?"
He shrugged. "Not that much. Mentioned his mom died when he was two. He was raised by his grandparents."
She blinked. "No kidding? I had no idea. What about his father, where was he?"
Cappie shook his head. "No idea, and I didn't think to ask. Said he grew up in a really small town and made some mischief as a kid. Sounds like the army straightened him out, though."
Mel couldn't lose the image of Nate's mom dying when he was just a toddler. "How sad."
"He seems okay."
"Yeah." She smiled, other images of Nate filling her mind. "He's a good guy, Daddy. I hope we can find a way to make the long distance thing work."
"That what you want?"
She nodded. "We want to try, anyway. I guess we'll see how it goes."
"Just so you don't do something stupid like moving to Texas."
"I'm not going anywhere." She grew thoughtful and they were both quiet.
He changed the subject. "Got a letter from your aunt Nan back east. She's going to be a grandma again."
"Really?" Mel asked a few questions about her mother's sister and they talked about family for a while. There wasn't much of it, or much to say, so the conversation didn't take long.
She took one more spoonful of ice cream and, noticing he'd stopped eating, replaced the lid on the container.
He stood. "I should go. I have to work later and there's a few things I need to do first."
Mel knew her father enjoyed his job, but suspected he dreaded going in today. The place was crawling with cops, some of whom had to know what was going on. Let alone the ones who saw her led out the night before. "Bet you're looking forward to that."
He shrugged. "It's all going to work out."
"I really can't believe the press doesn't have my name yet."
"It's bound to happen. Cops are a pretty tight brotherhood, but somebody's sure to open their mouth and blab soon."
"I know." Rising, she r
eturned the ice cream to the freezer and brought out the casseroles she'd prepared for him. Packing them in a tote bag, she handed it over by the front door. "Hope you enjoy them."
"You know I will." He took the handle and paused long enough to kiss her cheek one last time. "Keep your chin up, kiddo. Nate's going to solve this thing. I have confidence in the lad, even if he is a Yankee fan."
Mel chuckled and opened the door for her father. "Thanks again for the ice cream and the shoulder. I love you."
Halfway down the sidewalk he paused and looked over his shoulder. "Right back atcha." Cappie winked and shuffled to his car.
Mel watched him drive off, her attention diverted by the black SUV moving slowly down her street. For a second she thought it was Nate's FBI vehicle, but it wasn't that shiny. Mel peered at the driver and her heart thudded when she spotted Dick Webb behind the wheel.
A grin spread across his face as he drove slowly by.
Mel hurried into her house and slammed the door, locking it. She ran to the other doors and made sure they were secure. Her last stop was the bedroom closet, where she kept her back-up handgun. She released the safety and checked the action, her heart still beating wildly.
Moving cautiously down the hall, she peered out the front blinds and watched for several minutes, but Webb never returned. Mel grabbed her cell and punched Nate's number.
"Willis."
"When did Dick Webb get released?"
"Hello to you, too. What makes you think he's out?"
"He just drove past my house."
"I will kill that son-of-a-bitch," Nate swore angrily. "Stay put, I'll be right there."
"Nate, no. I'm fine. I need you working the case. You can't help me from here."
"He's a psychopathic killer, Melanie."
"Apparently someone didn't think so if he's walking around free today."
"A killer with a very good lawyer, then. This evidence thing hurt us bad. Without something in hand, everything we saw is hearsay."
"That really sucks. Any sign of Martin yet?"
"Nothing. They're searching airports, but the prick probably just drove down the highway. When he hits Chicago he'll hop a flight from O'Hare to an island somewhere, and never be heard from again."
"Maybe by then they'll have his picture out and someone will spot him. It can't be that easy to disappear. Doesn't he have a mom or someone he's leaving behind? Christ, everyone has a mom." She bit her lip, realizing what she'd said. "Shit, I'm sorry…."
He chuckled. "You've been talking to your father. That's okay. I was going to tell you. We'll talk about it sometime. It's just right now, you know—"
"I know, and it's okay. I'm glad you're here to help me. It's only a matter of time before this thing breaks open, so you've got to keep going. Do whatever you can."
"I don't like leaving you there alone with that monster on the loose. Can you go to your dad's place?"
"He was here for a while, but he had to work. It's okay."
"Webb knows who you are, Mel. I hate that."
"I do too, but who said I was alone? I've got my buddies Smith and Wesson with me."
"Good! I meant to ask if you had a back-up piece. I should have left you mine."
"I've got an MP compact nine millimeter."
"Nice. Wear it, and your phone. If you hear anything funny, see anything suspicious, call me or nine-one-one. I'm pretty sure I'll get there faster."
Mel laughed. "You got it."
"I'll ask Reeder if he can send a black and white over there, just to be safe."
"Sounds good. I'll be fine. Thanks Nate." She wanted to say more. The words 'I love you' were on the tip of her tongue, but she wasn't going to say them for the first time over the phone. She just needed to say something. "I, uh…."
"I know." His voice sounded gravelly. "Me too. Talk to you soon, beautiful."
The call ended.
Mel squeezed her phone and smiled.
* * * *
Nate clutched his phone tightly before setting it on the table in front of him. Each time he talked to Mel, he had to fight the emotions that bubbled in his gut. He'd come close to saying 'I love you' a couple of times, but had resisted the urge. The timing hadn't been right. When he said the words, and he felt sure he would, he wanted the setting to be perfect.
Stone entered the war room and sat across from him, depositing an armload of papers on the table. "This sucks."
"Something specific or life in general?"
"Both." Stone shook his head. "I'm not even sure what I'm looking for. Digging into the lives of my co-workers and other cops. Nothing seems pertinent to the case, but like I said, I'm not really sure what I'm after."
Nate leaned back and flexed his fingers together. "Anyone with a grudge against Mel? She tick anybody off lately? Unusual or suspicious behavior?"
Stone rolled his eyes.
Nate smiled. "I know. One man's unusual is another man's ordinary. I never said it was going to be easy. We just have to keep digging for Mel's sake."
Stone shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. "There might be one thing. I've been thinking about Tanner. Besides the night Mel embarrassed him at Morgan's, something happened at work here the other day."
"Like what?"
"I was just getting in to the office and I overheard Mel and Tanner talking. Seems he needed her expense report. When she wasn't here, he logged on to her computer and downloaded it. She was pretty unhappy. Told him that wasn't within the scope his responsibility. He reminded her that he has clearance and access to everyone's computers, but she told him never to do it again."
"She was upset, huh?" Nate mulled it over.
"Very. I thought she might report him, but we were busy and I guess she decided to let it go."
"So Tanner has access to everyone's computers. Being in Admin, he has access to personal records, too. And stuff like bank accounts."
Stone nodded.
"Interesting." Nate smiled. "See, Henry, you do know what you're looking for after all."
His phone rang and he grabbed it up. "Willis."
"Hey, it's Marshall. I found Sheila. She's on her way to the hospital in an ambulance."
Nate's gut clenched. "What happened?"
"Not sure. Found her on a scuzzy old sofa in her crummy little apartment. Looks like she's been on a bender all night. Heroin, cocaine, crack and weed all over the coffee table. What's left of about five grand in cash there, too."
"Is she going to make it?"
"Don't know. Even if she does, her credibility as a witness is shot."
"Webb could have set her up. Pumped her full of shit to make it look like she OD'd."
"No way to prove that. They'll say she used the money he paid her for the night to get lit up."
"No way he gave her five thousand dollars for one night."
"The uniforms on duty at the hospital yesterday said she didn't have any visitors. But there was some confusion in the hallway during the shift change and she might have been left alone for five to ten minutes."
"Some confusion?" Nate shouted into the phone. He stood and paced as he fumed. "This thing has turned into a cluster fuck from one end to the other."
"I know," Marshall agreed. "Confusion at Webb's house when the neighbor's dog got loose. Confusion in the hallway at the hospital. It's almost like someone was one step ahead of the police, wreaking havoc as he went."
"Burton Webb."
"Burton Webb," Marshall confirmed.
Nate rubbed a hand over his face. "I've got to tell you, this doesn't look all that good for the WPD either."
"Roger that. We look like a bunch of bumbling idiots."
"Now that you mention it, that's exactly what I was thinking."
"Okay, so I'm following the bus to the hospital. I'll stay with Sheila until we know more."
"Keep me posted."
"Will do." Marshall disconnected the call.
Nate relayed the information to Stone. They went over the all the files the
y had and Nate made calls to Steve, the FBI analyst who'd successfully tracked down Webb. By late in the afternoon they were all tired and slightly testy because they seemed no closer to the truth then where they'd been that morning.
Becker prepared to leave at the same time they did. From what Nate could tell, she'd been keeping an eye on them most of the day. Stone admitted she was curious about what they were working on, but he kept her in the dark.
"See you tomorrow," she called, tossing a fashionable gold and white bag over her shoulder before heading out.
Nate scratched his chin. "Cops in Wichita get paid better than cops in San Antonio?"
"I doubt it." Stone said. "Why?"
"That was a Prada handbag she was carrying. Last time I checked, those started somewhere around fifteen hundred bucks and went well over three thousand."
"Should your knowing that bother me?"
Nate chuckled. "I had a girlfriend once that obsessed over Prada. I satisfied her with Coach handbags. They were still pricey at three hundred, but more in my range."
"Three hundred dollars for a purse?" Stone blinked.
"For a Coach," Nate reiterated. "The Prada ones like Becker was carrying cost in the thousands. She have money?"
Stone seemed surprised, and had to think about it. "She's always dressed nicely, but she doesn't come from money. I don't know Prada from Walmart, so I couldn't tell you if the bag is new."
"I'll ask Mel. I imagine she knows Prada from Walmart."
"Probably so. I'll see you tomorrow then."
"Night." Nate watched him go and placed one more call to Steve. When he was done, he checked in with Marshall to get an update on Sheila. No change. Marshall was calling it a day, and said he'd go back to the hospital in the morning.
Thoughts rolled through Nate's mind as he drove to Mel's place. No word yet on when the IA hearing might be, but he suspected it would be soon. Tomorrow is Thursday. How much longer could they keep Mel's name away from the press?