by D. A. Brown
Sophia expected to have more of a reaction. She was glad David wasn’t alone for the last days of his life. Isabel didn’t strike her as David’s type, though. But what did she know? She wasn’t his type either.
“You know our history?”
“Yes, I heard a lot in group.”
“Group?”
“In therapy. Like I said, we were both in a treatment program. I guess, technically I’m violating the rules by talking about it but since he’s…” Isabel set down her coffee cup and glanced out the window.
It felt like such a violation. Her marriage to David was no one’s business.
“Were you in love with him?”
Isabel smiled and traced her finger along the edge of a small napkin.
“David was damaged.” Looking at Sophia as though she hoped for a glimmer of recognition, she continued. “He was really, really hard to love.” She pulled her chair closer to the table. “And I’ve been in enough therapy to know when someone’s not a good choice. But he had his moments.” She paused. “I’m sure you remember that.”
Sophia tried to read Isabel, but she was either out of practice or the woman was doing a good job of hiding her true feelings. There was something there that Sophia couldn’t tease out, something rueful or spiteful. Or maybe Isabel was just confused.
“I remember a lot, most of it not pleasant, to be honest.”
Isabel looked down and took the last sip of her latte. “I don’t know. Life goes on. I have to continue working on myself, my recovery. This is a dangerous time for people like me.”
“What do you mean, ‘dangerous time.?’”
“It would be easy to relapse, with all that I’m feeling.” Isabel looked at Sophia. “I’ve never had to deal with something like this. I have a lot of guilt about what happened to David.”
“I can’t imagine why. Did you know he was trying to contact me?” Sophia was beginning to get the feeling Isabel wasn’t telling her everything.
Isabel folded her hands neatly on the table. “David and I shared some of the same demons. That’s all I’m prepared to say. He was very agitated and restless over the last two weeks of his life. He was very obsessed with something.” She brushed down the cuffs of her coat. “He never stopped trying to be a cop. I just assumed it was one of his little ‘projects.’”
“Projects?”
“He was fixated on someone in the police department. Frankly, I assumed it was you.”
“If it was, I wasn’t aware of it. Did he ever mention any names?”
“No, he didn’t talk to me about that part of his life.”
There was an awkward silence, and then Sophia stuffed her napkin into her cup and stood up. “I should get going. I’m back to work in a couple of days, and you’d think I would have gotten all of my errands out of the way with my time off, but I still have a few loose ends to tie off.”
“Thank you for meeting with me. I’d like to do it again.”
Sophia had that feeling, the one that when she didn’t heed it, there was always trouble to follow.
“I need some time. It’s not personal. I’m sure you are a very nice person but…” She tried to find the right words. “I’m a little uncomfortable forging a friendship under these circumstances. I hope you understand.”
Isabel stood up and tossed her cup into the garbage. “No problem. I get it.” She walked off without a good-bye.
Isabel was out the door and around the corner before Sophia could finish putting on her coat.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The lobby to Headquarters was made of glass and stone. A small public counter separated records staff from citizens coming in from the street to request an accident or incident report. A desk officer was stationed to the north of the bay of windows behind a small desk. He or she was the last line of defense between un-credentialed visitors and the floors of detectives and brass. To the left of the desk was where people applied for concealed weapons permits or got their fingerprints taken for sensitive jobs requiring a background check. One side of the lobby contained the names of fallen officers, set into a stone facade built with the hope that no more names would be added. But since Sophia had been hired, there’d already been more metal plaques sealed into the wall.
When Sophia walked in, Sergeant Janice Bowerman was chatting with the desk officer.
“Benedetti.” Bowerman waved her over. “I’m with you today.”
“What happened to Mullins? Did he have a tee time again today?”
“He’s a good guy, just a little rough around the edges. I think he’s on vacation.”
“I just want this to be over with.”
“You didn’t bring a lawyer, did you?”
“Why would I need a lawyer”
“You don’t. Well, not normally. Didn’t your Captain call you?”
“No.”
“That’s a little unusual. Your Captain should have touched base at least. I mean, this is a little different than your average OIS.”
“Only because that asshole Burton killed himself at my scene…”
“Hang on.” Bowerman took Sophia by the elbow and led her to the elevators. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”
Bowerman closed the door to the interview room.
“It’s not you.”
“What?”
“It’s Tommy Stinson. They’re trying to hang him out.”
“Tommy didn’t even fire his weapon,” Sophia said. “I don’t get it.”
“Someone has it out for him. Word is they’re going to say that Tommy’s action, his pulling open that attic door, was what put you in danger.”
“What the fuck is going on around here? That guy was going to shoot someone regardless. He wasn’t coming out to surrender while simultaneously fired his gun. Maybe Tommy could have waited a little…”
“That right there? That’s what they’re hoping for, just so you know. Don’t say it if you don’t want your partner taking the fall here.”
“Maybe he should,” Sophia said under her breath. Tommy hadn’t returned any of her calls after that night they talked. Maybe he’d skipped town.
“What did you say”
“Jesus, nothing.”
There was a knock on the door before it opened. Drew Taylor popped his head in.
“We’re ready for you, Benedetti.”
As she stepped out into the hall, Tommy, Jimmy, Jess and Anthony gave her a thumbs up. Tommy walked over and whispered into her ear.
“Tell the truth, exactly like it happened, Soph.”
Sophia smelled alcohol on his breath.
“Have you been…” Sophia stepped back.
Taylor pushed Tommy away. “Stand off, Stinson.”
“Fuck you, Taylor,” Tommy said.
The firearms review board consisted of members of the homicide squad, a captain, an assistant chief and a civilian observer who didn’t have any voting power. There was a Powerpoint presentation by the investigating team of detectives and then an opportunity for board members to ask questions. Drew Taylor sat in the back of the room, arms crossed. On the other side of the room, a clean cut man in an expensive suit sat by himself.
“Who’s that?” Sophia whispered to Bowerman.
“Based on the suit, I’d say he’s a Fed.”
“Why would the Feds be here?” Sophia studied the man’s face.
“Maybe they’re looking at taking your child porn case federally. I don’t know.”
The first question came from Captain Ray Allen, a former SWAT commander.
“Detective Benedetti, could you tell me why you didn’t have SWAT serve this warrant?”
“My squad has done dozens of warrants without SWAT. We didn’t think this was going to be any different.”
“But it was. And as a result, a man died. Perhaps it would have happened anyway but perhaps not.”
Sophia looked at Bowerman.
“It’s a dangerous job, Captain. You should know that. Sometimes shit happens.”
“And your partner, Detective Stinson. Was that a planned tactic, him pulling down the attic door? Were you ready for that?”
“Of course.”
Sophia looked at Taylor. A slight smile crept across his face.
“I see. So, the fact that your partner nearly got you killed doesn’t bother you?”
“I thought this was about what happened at the house, not what didn’t,” Sophia said.
“Fair enough, Detective.” The Captain shuffled a few pages. “What can you tell us about Chief Burton’s connection to this matter?”
Sgt. Taylor spoke up. “That’s part of a separate investigation.”
“He killed himself at her scene, Sergeant Taylor.”
“Still not relevant.”
Sophia spoke up. “I don’t know his connection but I guess it’s safe to say, he had one.”
Bowerman shook her head at Sophia. “Again, not part of this review. Let’s keep going.”
“Detective Benedetti, is it common for your partner to come to work drunk?”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Your partner, Detective Stinson. He was drunk on the day of the shooting.”
“No he wasn’t.”
“Really? So you don’t know that he was ordered to take a breathalyzer at the scene?”
Sophia looked at Taylor and then at Bowerman. “I don’t know anything about that.”
Sophia felt a surge of adrenaline. How was it that this was the first time she’d heard about this? She didn’t want to betray a confidence, speak up about him being in AA and being sober for over twenty years. There had to be a mistake.
“You fired how many times, Detective?”
“Three.”
“And only one round struck the victim.”
“He wasn’t a victim. He was a suspect.”
“Fair enough. But only one round hit him.”
“I haven’t been privy to the investigation. I know I made the head shot.”
“Did you try and aim at center mass or just go for the fatal shot?”
Drew Taylor tapped the side of his head.
“It was dark, he was armed. He came down so fast, I didn’t have time…”
“Thanks to your partner.”
Sophia stood up. “I’m done here. You’ll have to ask Stinson.”
“You’re not free to leave, Detective.”
“Yes she is. We have all we need,” said Drew Taylor.
Sophia pushed opened the door. It slammed against the wall. She walked past the squad, their eyes wide with surprise.
As she reached Tommy, she stopped. “I hope it was worth it.”
Sophia walked out on the parking deck with Bowerman closely behind her.
“Hold up, Benedetti.”
“I have nothing to say to you or anyone. That was complete bullshit.”
“They’re desperate. The Captain and Burton were friends.”
“Why let him run the FRB then? He can’t be neutral. He’s going to crucify me.”
“He’s going to crucify Stinson.”
“If anyone gets to crucify Stinson, it should be me.”
“You’re going back to work tomorrow. Do yourself a favor and keep the chatter about this to a minimum. There’s still a lot of speculation about what happened in that house. And the press is sniffing around. They think there’s a big story in this and maybe there is, but trust me, you don’t want to be at the center of it.”
Sophia got into her car and sped out of the garage leaving Bowerman standing alone on the parking deck.
She poured herself a tumbler of wine and inserted the thumb drive Isabel had given to her into her laptop. This was probably what David had been trying to get to her when she’d been too busy trying to ignore him. Or maybe it was evidence in his homicide. But she wanted to make sure it wasn’t something personal; pictures or writings of their time together.
A series of files popped up, and soon her screen was populated with thumbnails of photos of the dead drop location. She double clicked on the first photo and a dark image materialized. Using the zoom tool, she enlarged the photo and recognized Stewart Halifax standing alone near a car.
The next photo was a sharper resolution. Stewart was talking to someone but, his back was to the camera. Sophia scanned the thumbnails, looking for the mystery man’s face.
She clicked on one near the end. Her heart tumbled. There were two images in the photo, but the only one she recognized was Marcus Burton. The third person never stepped out of the shadows.
Sophia stood up to catch her breath. Pacing her living room, she downed the remaining wine and poured some more. So David somehow got these photos implicating Burton and Halifax, and that was what he was trying to tell her. But who was the stranger who appeared smart enough to stay in the dark?
She tried to use the zoom tool to segregate the image, but it only pixelated the image more. Flipping through another dozen, she stopped at one where a car’s headlights had illuminated the bottom half of the mystery man.
Only those legs and shoes didn’t belong to a man.
Her mind raced. The wine was jacking her up.
She pulled out her cell phone. Jess answered on the first ring.
“I need to talk to you,” Sophia said.
“Ok.”
“I need to show you something.”
Jess laughed. “Is this work related or fashion related?”
“What it is, is really fucked up.”
“You sound like shit.”
“I feel like shit, and I’m a little drunk so I shouldn’t drive. Can you come over here?”
“Are you home?”
“Yes. I just really don’t know what to do here. I need some advice.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Sophia made herself a cup of coffee, then changed out of her sweatpants and t-shirt into a pair of jeans and a pressed blouse. Bodhi stayed at her heel until she sat back down at her computer.
Sophia printed the photos, then copied the thumb drive and put it back into the envelope.
Jess arrived a half an hour later, knocking softly. Bodhi barked and pawed at the door until Sophia opened it. She butted Jess’ knees.
“Well, hello to you too, Bodhi.” Jess squatted and gave the dog a solid rub.
“Thanks for coming.”
“Sure.” Jess wore faded jeans and a red t-shirt. Her badge was tucked into her pocket. Her Glock sat in a holster in the small of her back.
“So what the hell is going on? Did something go wrong during the FRB? Whatever you said to Tommy sure didn’t sit well.”
“That’s a whole other issue I don’t want to talk about right now.”
“I guess. But the guys are pretty confused right now. You and Tommy OK?”
Sophia shrugged and offered Jess some coffee. “Or would you prefer a glass of wine.”
“I’ll take one glass but that’s it.”
Sophia sunk into the couch. “You know the dead drop, the one under the freeway, right?
“Of course. Victoria Tilden put Stewart Halifax and Burton at the scene.” Jess sat next to Sophia. “But no one’s been able to confirm that Halifax is a part of this. I mean, I sure as hell believe he is, but there’s nothing solid linking him…”
Jess reached over and touched Sophia’s arm. “I’ve been working the case in your absence, Beni. I know all of this. What’s going on?”
“Sophia stood up and walked over to the laptop. “So the other day, I guess it was Tuesday of last week actually, I met with a woman named Isabel Proust. She gave me this.” She handed the thumb drive to Jess.
Jess flipped the thumb drive over. “Who’s Isabel Proust?”
“She was David’s girlfriend, I guess.“
“Jesus, Beni. You should have called me or Tommy. You know better than that.”
Sophia exposed the USB stick. “David had this at the house. I think it was what he was trying to get to me before h
e was killed.”
“And…”
“And this is what was on it.” Sophia pulled up the copies she’d made.
“Is that Burton?”
“Yep.”
“ And Stewart Halifax?” Jess picked up one of the photos. “Who’s the other guy standing to the side?”
“It’s not a guy.”
“You’re right. Those are definitely a woman’s legs…”
She looked at Jess. “I can’t fucking believe it. I feel like a complete fool.”
“Whoa, slow down, Beni. Do you think the woman in the photo is Proust?”
“I don’t know.” Sophia took a deep breath. “She shows up out of nowhere, hands me this envelope and acts like she wants to be my friend. She even said she wanted to meet again. And she starts asking a bunch of questions about David’s murder and the status of the investigation.”
“You didn’t tell her anything, did you?” Jess rubbed her eyes and pushed back her hair. She stood up and walked to the window.
“Of course not. Give me some credit.”
“Sorry.”
“Well that makes two of us.”
“Have you talked to Tommy?”
“No.”
“Look, it makes no sense for her to turn over something that would implicate her. I mean, she must have looked at what was on the drive, right?” Jess finished the rest of her wine.
“Who knows? Maybe she didn’t see this one.” Sophia picked up the photo and looked at the image. “Maybe she’s making amends. I ran her up. There is nothing in the system under that name. She’s a ghost.”
“Maybe Halifax was there to confront Burton. Could this be Mrs. Halifax?”
It hadn’t dawned on Sophia that Ginny Halifax might have come along with her husband. But that was a stretch. That woman seemed to care only about her white carpet and her pristine furniture.
The coffee wasn’t doing its job. Sophia felt like someone had covered her in a warm, wet blanket. She laid her head back against the couch and called Bodhi up. The dog jumped into her lap, making both women laugh.