by D. A. Brown
She walked to the house, Mullins following her. “Can’t I just go up to homicide first thing in the morning? I’ve got to get another warrant.”
“Yeah, I’d love to help you out, Benedetti, but you’ve got to come downtown and talk to those guys today, like now preferably.” Mullins said. “I’ll be there with you the whole way. You’ll lose a lot of details if you put it off. Can’t avoid it, I’m afraid.” He pointed toward the house. “Have one of the other guys in the squad get the warrant.”
Sophia sighed and looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go back in for a minute and talk to Daryl Parker. We’re going to have to impound the scene until I can get back here.”
“Make it quick. The faster we get down there, the sooner it’ll be over. Still got your weapon?”
She touched her Glock with the underside of her arm. “Yes. Why?”
“Your Captain should have taken it from you and given you a replacement.”
Mullins adjusted his tie and looked in the side mirror of his pool car. “Technically, the homicide detectives are supposed to take your duty weapon. No worries. We’ll figure it out. Hang on to it for now.”
“I haven’t seen Captain Laramount out here. The only brass I’ve seen is Burton.” She broke into a jog and ran up the front stairs.
Mullins yelled after her. “Make it quick, Benedetti. I got a tee time for a round at the Home Course.”
Sophia paused at the front door. The medical examiner, a young guy named Evan Browning, had the suspect’s body on its side while he examined the exit wound. Evan wore a black Megadeath t-shirt over running shorts.
“I was in the middle of a run,” Browning said, as if he’d read Sophia’s mind. “I can’t get shit done anymore, you know what I mean? I was up all last night at that multiple down south, and all I wanted to do was run off some of the stench from that scene, but then I catch this mess.” He made a note on his clipboard.
“It’s not like we planned it,” Sophia said.
Browning looked up at her. “I’m being an asshole. Don’t mind me.” He patted the back of the man’s pants. “Doesn’t appear to have any ID on him. We may have to run his prints if we don’t find it somewhere in the house.”
Browning’s assistant rolled the gurney to the bottom of the stairs.
“Just leave it there for now,” Browning said.
He turned his attention back to the suspect. An oddly symmetrical blood stain covered most of the suspect’s shirt and pants. He was lean – not like Eldon. This one had taken care of his body. Her first thought was that he was a runner or bicyclist - his calves were thin, taut and shaved. It wasn’t uncommon for a more sophisticated criminal to shave his body to avoid leaving trace evidence behind at crime scenes. This guy was more than just a virtual geek. He was a predator.
What was left of the suspect’s face was sunken and shriveled, but he appeared to be white and in his early 40’s. The sun peaked over the roof line of the house next door and directly into her eyes, making it difficult to see. She crouched next to Browning.
“Is his whole body hairless?”
“I haven’t looked everywhere but so far, it looks like just the legs.” The ME pulled up the shirt, “Check that. His chest is shaved nice and pretty, although not recently. He’s got a good level of stubble going on here.” Sophia leaned over Browning’s shoulder to get a better look.
“Benedetti, get the fuck in there,” Mullins yelled from his car.
Sophia leaned down and patted Browning on the shoulder. “Thanks.”
He picked up a large bowie knife from the porch deck “And by the way, he had this down the back of his pants.”
“Nice.” Although the suspect had come down from the attic gun in hand and had managed to get off one shot, it was nice to know that he’d been armed with a knife, too. Just a little extra icing on the cake when it came to the firearms review board.
Sophia stepped into the living room. The adrenaline dump from the shooting was starting to wear off and fatigue was beginning to set in.
“Hey, I thought you were heading downtown?” Parker and the rookie stood at the end of the hallway at the entrance to the living room.
“Is he still up there?”
“Yes, ma’m.” The rookie shuffled uncomfortably. “Well, I think so.”
“Parker.” Sophia lowered her voice. “I thought I asked you to get him out of there.”
“I had the rookie call him out but he didn’t answer. I didn’t want to contaminate your scene by going up there.”
“He probably heard you down here and decided to hide.”
“Chief!” Sophia hollered into the hole at the top of the ladder.
There was no answer.
“Have you heard anything? Are you sure he’s still not up there?” she said. Parker and the rookie looked at each other and shrugged.
“It’s been pretty quiet, ma’m.”
Someone had pushed the attic ladder partially up. The rookie pulled it down for Sophia who yanked on the rope handle.
“I’ve got it, thanks.” She looked at the rookie and suddenly felt old. His face was so smooth, she wondered if he’d even started shaving.
Parker laughed. “She don’t need any help from you, boy.”
The rookie looked sheepishly at Sophia. “Sorry, I was just trying…”
Sophia pulled herself up the first two rungs and then hooked her foot on the bottom rung.
The attic was still dark, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust, despite the warm glow of the computer monitors. The dull whir of the fans sounded surprisingly loud.
“Chief?”
Sophia didn’t see him at first. He was standing at the far end of the attic with his back to her.
“Chief?” Sophia cocked her head to get a better look. He was swaying side to side. She moved closer.
“Oh, shit.” She turned him to her. Burton’s face was purple, his tongue protruded from his mouth. A thick extension cord was wrapped around a roof beam and then around his neck. His hands were closed into fists, turned tightly at the wrists. She fumbled to pull out her knife from her kevlar vest pocket, and started sawing at the cord with one hand, while trying to support his weight with the other. With one last swipe, his two hundred and forty pounds thumped to the floor.
“Parker, call medics,” she screamed, as she tore open Burton’s shirt and pulled at his tie.
“Come on, come on. I need help up here.” She couldn’t find a pulse at his carotid artery. His chest was flat and deflated.
Parker pulled himself through the opening. He knelt down beside her and started pumping Burton’s chest.
“This is a fucking waste of time, Beni.”
“We have to try.” She pulled Parker away and started doing compressions.
“Jesus, how long was he up here hanging?” She put two fingers on the side of his neck. “Still no pulse.”
“He’s dead, Beni.” Parked pulled her away.
Sophia stood up. Her vision narrowed and a rushing sound filled her ears. Her breath slid in and out unevenly, captured by the stifling heat. She bent over, hands on her knees.
“Unfuckingbelievable.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Mullins drove Sophia back to headquarters.
“Well that was an unexpected surprise, huh?”
“Can we just not talk right now?” Sophia said.
“Sure but you gotta be prepared to talk later. Have to explain why you shot that guy.”
Sophia turned to Mullins. “He dropped from the fucking ceiling and shot at me. Is that good enough for you?”
“Calm down…”
“Don’t tell me to calm down.”
“Ok, just try and relax. I’m trying to help you here.” Mullins ignored his phone as it vibrated in the center console.
“I need to talk to my partner.”
“I don’t know where Stinson is but it’d be best if you didn’t.”
“What is your role here, Mullins? Because I’m getti
ng the distinct impression that you’re more interested in your tee time than helping me out. And I don’t appreciate the tact you’re taking - like I did something wrong. This was a good shoot.”
“Of course. It’s just a little more complicated with the Chief offing himself and all.”
“Fuck him.”
“Ok, then.”
They rode in silence the rest of the way.
Sgt. Taylor met them just inside the entrance to the seventh floor.
“Detective Benedetti. What a surprise.”
He’d just hit her last nerve.
“Just get me to an interview room, Mullins.”
Mullins escorted her past Taylor and down the narrow hall.
“Your captain is waiting for you.”
“Great. Can’t wait.” Sophia glanced at Mullins. He shook his head.
“Keep it together, Benedetti. He’s on your side.”
Captain Benjamin Laramount sat in the small interview room with his back to the door. His suit jacket hung over the back of the chair. He looked over his shoulder as Sophia walked in the room but didn’t stand or acknowledge her.
“Captain, I’m going to get some water and then come back. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk to Benedetti until I’m back in the room,” Mullins said.
Laramount said nothing.
Mullins looked at Sophia. She nodded for him to go.
Sophia sat in the hard plastic chair and looked at Laramount. He stood and closed the door, then sat on the edge of the table, leaning over her.
“This is not good, Benedetti.”
“What part? The part where I killed the child molesting piece of shit or the part where his accomplice killed himself?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The chief.”
Laramount stood up and smoothed back his hair. “And you know this how?”
“I know it because of the evidence.”
“What evidence do you have exactly, detective?”
The door opened and Mullins walked in with two waters. Behind him, Drew Taylor stood in the hallway.
“We need to do this interview. And you can’t be in here Captain.” Taylor walked in and dropped a legal pad onto the table.
Laramount put his jacket on, headed for the door and then turned. “We’ll revisit this conversation, Detective.”
“Not if it’s about this event, you won’t.” Taylor shut the door and sat across from Sophia. “I hate that asshole.”
Sophia took the water and cracked the top open. “What do you want to know?”
“Just start from the beginning, Detective.”
Her interview with Taylor over, Sophia went back to the office. She called Pierson.
“I’m officially on administrative leave.”
“Lucky you. How’re you doing?”
“Fine, I guess. Tired.”
“We’re just finishing up here. Jess got additional warrants for the house and the computers. Anderson wrangled some help from a task force officer with the Secret Service’s financial crimes squad to collect computers and the servers. “We’ve got another hour or so left.”
“Is Tommy there?”
“He was here for a while and then said he had some personal business to deal with. Pissed me off. This place was a real dump and we could have used the help.”
“He didn’t mention it to me.”
“That’s Stinson.” Pierson said.
“I’ll be at home if you need me.”
“Of course. I’ll ask Jess to work with Tommy on this. You just take care of yourself, ok?”
Bodhi was startled but happy to see Sophia in the middle of the day. Candy had dropped her off earlier. Dog toys littered the living room, and several couch pillows lay on the floor. The smell of dog was heavy and comforting.
Sophia’s cell phone vibrated on her hip.
“Hey, it’s Jess.” Her voice was hoarse.
“You sound terrible. Are you getting sick?”
“No, it happens when I get really tired. Weak-ass vocal cords, I guess.” She cleared her throat. “So how are you doing? They kind of swept you out of the scene pretty fast.”
“I’m fine.” Sophia sat at her kitchen table and poured herself a glass of wine.
“Glad to hear it. I was worried, I mean, it’s hard enough to shoot someone but then the whole Burton thing…” Jess’ voice cut out.
“I’m really still in shock, I think. And I can’t talk about it, you know?”
“Yeah, no problem. I was just worried about you.”
A few sips of wine began the unraveling. “I need to go.”
“Call if you need anything.”
Shortly before ten o’clock, she tried Tommy’s phone but it went to voicemail. She left two messages, asking him to call her as soon as he could. She thought about calling her mom and dad but decided it would be better to tell them the story in person when they were all actually speaking to one another.
She’d never felt so alone.
Sophia sat on the couch with a cup of Sleepy Time tea and Bodhi. She put the TV on low, only to provide white noise for her racing mind. She couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility that Tommy had killed David. Why would he sacrifice himself, his pension, his career? She had to be wrong.
Her body soon relaxed under a heavy fleece blanket, Bodhi curled hard up against her legs. The dog’s rhythmic breathing lulled Sophia to sleep.
Her phone startled her, hurling the empty coffee cup wedged between her hand and thigh to the floor. It was one AM.
She answered it in a haze.
“Hey, it’s me.” Tommy’s said almost in a whisper.
“Where have you been? I’ve tried calling you for hours.”
“I was at the scene for most of the day and then I needed to go clear my head.” A woman’s voice was in the background.
“You alone?”
“No, I’m home.”
She couldn’t tell if he sounded resigned or relieved.
“We’ve gotta talk.”
“I can’t come over. I promised Evelyn I’d stay home.” He lowered his voice. “Did they tell you to not talk to anyone about the shooting?”
“Yes, but screw them. I need to talk to you.”
“We’re gonna have to lie low for a few days. We did good, you know.”
“I know.” She cleared her throat. “What the hell happened today?”
“Let’s talk later. I’m dead tired.” Evelyn said something to him in the background.
“I’ll be there in a moment, babe.”
“I’m glad you’re home with Evelyn.”
“Don’t let them get to you, OK?”
There was an uncomfortable silence, one that she hadn’t felt since the first days they worked together, when Tommy felt he was being punished by being saddled with a rookie detective.
“Any idea how long I’m going to be out on admin leave?” She was trying to keep him on the phone.
“It varies. Depends on how complicated they try and make it. Maybe a couple of weeks. I’m not sure. My last shooting was twenty-five years ago. They do things differently now, as you might guess. Enjoy the time off.”
“Take care of yourself, Tommy.”
“You, too.”
She hung up feeling so disconnected from Tommy. It surprised her how attached she’d become to him. It wasn’t romantic, she was sure of that. But he’d changed in the last couple of months, become more detached. She worried that he’d started drinking again. More importantly, she worried that he’d become a stone cold killer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
After three hours of fitful sleep, Sophia made herself a cup of coffee and wandered out to the garage. She’d left her Jeep parked in the driveway, allowing her to get to the covered Moto Guzzi Le Mans resting tightly against the wall. She pulled off the cover and tossed it in the corner. The bright green tank needed a touch of wax but aside from that, the bike was pristine. She rolled it out into the driveway, straddl
ed the seat and pulled in the clutch. Kicking it into neutral, she turned the key and the monster roared to life. It was the perfect bike for her - Italian, sexy and fast as hell, but with classic stylings.
She sat back on her haunches and admired the bike’s profile, the way it reminded her of a feline predator. It was seven years old with only twenty-five thousand miles on it and she’d put over half of them on just jetting around the city. Bodhi wandered over and sat on her foot.
“I need to go for a ride, girl. You understand, right?” Sophia scratched Bodhi behind both ears, grabbed her collar and escorted her into the house.
She called Candy and arranged for her to watch Bodhi for a few days.
“I need to go see my folks,” she lied.
It was a calculated risk leaving town after a shooting. Sophia called Jess and told her she was headed to San Fransisco for a quick visit but asked her to keep it on the down low.
“I just need to clear my head. I won’t be gone long.”
“Are you letting Pierson know?” Jess said.
“I’ll only be a phone call away.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I’ll call you when I get there. How’s that for a compromise?”
Jess laughed. “That’s not a compromise, that’s a promise. And not a very convincing one.”
“I promise.”
“How about I come with you, provide some moral support?”
“Unless you want to ride on the back of a bike on a seat not meant for sitting, you’re welcome.”
“I have my own bike,” Jess said.
“I’m impressed, but I need to go alone.”
By noon, she was on the road, the Le Mans’ transverse v-twin winding up and down as she put it through the drill. Her earbuds sank into her ears, holding back the roar of the engine and the wind battering her full faced helmet. Live’s ‘I Alone’ crashed between her ears as she deftly leaned the beast in and out of turns. It was a little over twelve hours to Tiberon. Opting for I-5 instead of 101, she made sure she had her badge, gun and ID in the event she was pulled over by State Patrol. The troopers were notorious for citing city cops. There was no professional courtesy extended generally, but Sophia hoped she could use her sex to an advantage and talk her way out of a speeding ticket.