A Voice from the Field

by Neal Griffin

  All the liquor and prescription dope in Wisconsin wasn’t going to drown out the most terrifying thought: What if I really am losing my mind?

  SIX

  In the Milwaukee County Jail interrogation room, Tia sat, drumming her fingers on the wood tabletop as her knee bounced out a nervous cadence underneath. Her head throbbed and her tongue was thick in her mouth, like a crumpled sheet of 80 grit sandpaper. She felt like hell, but she pushed all that aside. Someone had to do something. For her, it was a simple fact: the girl in the van was real. She was part of this world, not a ghost, a memory, or some netherworld image.

  The girl in the van needed help. She needed a cop.

  The cube-like room where Tia waited was nothing more than four gray cement walls with a matching floor and twelve-foot ceiling. Two handle-less doors were cut flush into opposite sides of the room and could only be opened from the outside. A swaying lamp hung from a cable overhead, caught up in the draft of a wall fan that did nothing to lower the stifling heat. The light was intense and the furnishing sparse. It was a place that left Tia feeling exposed.

  That’s the whole idea, she thought. Makes the lies easier to see. Tia wondered what else might be visible: The paralyzing fear that followed her everywhere these days? Her desperation?

  A warning light flashed in some hazy but still-sensible part of her alcohol-sodden brain. Leave. No one would ever know. Just bang on the exit door and get the hell out of here. Chalk the trip up as the ultimate boneheaded idea, a narrowly averted disaster.

  She heard the sound of heavy footsteps accompanied by the jangle of chain. Her adrenaline kicked into high gear. Tia got to her feet at the exact moment the door leading to the cells swung open and a massive figure filled the doorway. Too late.

  Game on.

  Tia stretched to her entire five feet four inches and did her best to don the mask of power and authority. She tried to make it seem as if she had stood up to establish control, reminding him that she was a cop. A glance at the newcomer told her she had failed. This guy reads fear for a living, she thought. He was a cheetah to her tommy gazelle, and as he looked at her his expression went from stoic to predatorily amused.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Lookie here. We gonna finish our little business transaction?”

  Tia kept her response short and simple, hoping to keep the quiver from her voice. “Sit down, Kane.”

  She hadn’t seen Gunther Kane since the night he’d been arrested, and he was even bigger and more repulsive than she remembered. The tight-fitting, triple-XL orange jailhouse jumpsuit, soaked in sweat, was open across his chest, the short sleeves hiding almost nothing of his massive arms, which were covered in tattoos. The mere sight of him reminded her of his weight on her, pressing her into the pavement. He owned you, she thought. If the other cops hadn’t arrived when they did, you were done. She felt the air run out of her body.

  Kane stepped into the room, towing a jail guard a third his size. His hands were cuffed in front of his body. A two-foot-long chain leash attached to a thick leather belt that dug in tight around his waist connected him to the guard, who held the leash with the confidence of a toddler walking a pit bull. With a glance, Kane communicated his intent to stand, and the little corrections officer looked away, avoiding eye contact. Kane turned back to Tia.

  “We got nothing to talk to about. Maybe you ain’t heard. My lawyer worked it out. I’m outta here as soon as these dumb-ass turnkeys figure out the paperwork.”

  “That’s right,” Tia said in a tone she knew lacked conviction. “Your case is settled, so we can talk. Now, I said, sit your ass down.”

  Kane looked down from his towering vantage point and took her all in. Tia was pretty sure that included her heart slamming against her sternum. Her knees went weak as Kane licked his lips. He grabbed at the leash and tugged to get some slack, then moved over to the wooden chair on his side of the table, pulling his guard along. He flipped the chair around backward, threw a leg over, and lowered himself onto the seat, never taking his eyes off Tia. The cracking sound of the wood as it took his weight echoed off the close walls, but somehow the chair remained in one piece. Kane leaned forward so the chair back covered his chest like a breastplate, his arms and cuffed hands hanging over the top.

  It had been dark during their first encounter and she hadn’t seen the details of his prison ink. The shamrock of the Aryan Brotherhood stood out on one fully tattooed forearm, and the words “Trust No Bitch” were stenciled in green on the other. Once again he flashed that shit-eating grin.

  “Fine. I’ll sit here with ya. Don’t mind me if I gawk a bit. Still got a couple more lonely nights to get through before I walk outta here.” He made it obvious he was running his eyes over her body. “This is gonna help.”

  Tia dropped into her chair and returned his stare. Somehow she managed to calm her nerves enough to hold his gaze and speak in a steady voice. “I got a deal for you, Kane. It might even be better than the one you must’ve made with the prosecutor.”

  “Is that right?” Kane leaned in close, his face less than two feet from hers, his breath smelling of jail food and pruno. A thousand beads of sweat glistened off his enormous head, where Tia could also see the red stubble of four days’ growth. “Well, the part of me that ain’t dreaming about ass fuckin’ you right now is all ears. So let me hear it.”

  “The girl. Tell me where I can find her. I’ll go pick her up. Then, you walk out of here in a few days and never have to deal with me again.”

  Kane stared ahead, the grin still plastered on his face. With just the slightest movement of his head, he turned his eyes to the corner of the ceiling. “I’ve already been over that with the lawyers. I don’t know what girl you’re talking about.”

  “Forget the camera. Just listen. You make it happen and I leave you alone. Otherwise, I’ll be in your shit from now until the time I lock you away. And that’ll be for a lot more than ten days.”

  He looked at the tabletop and laughed under his breath for several seconds.

  “You’re Suarez, right?” Kane sat back, shifted his manacled hands into his lap, and gave his crotch a long rub. “That’s bold talk for a split-tail cop. Especially one who’s been through as much bullshit as you have.”

  Tia stuck to her guns. “Like I said, Kane. Produce the girl and you walk away. Otherwise, we’re just getting started.”

  “Fine by me. Like I said, we got unfinished business. I oughta be out in two days. You be sure to come find me.”

  Fear gave way to anger and Tia let it fuel her. “It won’t go like that, Kane. First thing I’m going to do is plant a few seeds of doubt out there in Aryan Nation. Get your ass-bag associates to wondering just how it is you cut yourself such a good deal.”

  For the first time a look of uncertainty crossed Kane’s face and his smile faltered. Tia let it sink in.

  “Fact is, I’ve been wondering that myself. You attack a cop, you got a pretty good rap sheet with a prison prior, and you walk with a misdemeanor? Makes me wonder what you gave up for that?” Tia paused. “Or maybe it’s who you gave up.”

  “Bullshit.” For the first time Kane lost his cool. “I didn’t give up nothin’. I got no problem doing time for kicking the shit out of cops. Even little dyke cops like you. That builds a lot of cred in my world.”

  “But you’re not doing time. You’re walking out.”

  “You’ll have to ask that pretty little lawyer why she took such a shine to me.” Kane shrugged. “My animal magnetism, maybe.”

  “I’m thinking there’s more to it than that, Kane. I’m betting your cracker homeboys will, too.”

  Kane nodded and leaned in, closer than before. He put his hands flat on the table, the metal cuffs scraping loudly against the wood surface.

  “Do what you want, I got no worries. My people know, Gunther Kane ain’t gonna make a deal with cops.”

  “Listen, Kane—”

  “No, you listen,” he said, cutting her off. “I don’t often make snap jud
gments about folks. Making assumptions is a bad habit. But you?” Kane tossed his head in a gesture of dismissal. “I’m pretty confident I’ve got you figured out.”

  “How’s that, Kane?”

  “My lawyer tells me you’re damaged goods.” Kane raised his cuffed hands and tapped his finger against the side of his head. “Maybe even a little off upstairs.”

  Tia stared back, feeling exposed, laid open before him. When she said nothing, he went on.

  “From what he tells me, you’ve had some issues in courtrooms lately. You ever think maybe that’s why I might be getting a walk?”

  Tia’s mind reeled with anger and embarrassment. Her chin quivered involuntarily, pissing her off all the more.

  Again came Kane’s grin of satisfaction. “Don’t cry, honey. Just know, you’re gonna want to think long and hard about any further associations with me. That could end bad for you. Real bad. My personal opinion? Cute little gal like you, with all you’ve been through lately? You ought not to be out playing cops and robbers. You could end up on the wrong end of some serious shit. Again.”

  The last word hit Tia hard. She remembered his hand over her mouth. The strength of his grip as he pushed her toward the van. The girl staring back at her. His weight on top of her. Tia’s heart began to pound.

  Kane stood, the chair groaning again as he moved. Tia half-expected it to snap into a half-dozen splintered pieces. The guard backed up three quick steps.

  “I get it, Suarez. I’ll bet you’re taking a lot of shit from your cop buddies. You need to show everybody you still got it, right?” His voice deepened, growing even more firm. “Whatever it is you need to prove ain’t gonna involve me. We’re done. Go back to Newberg. Write some damn parking tickets or whatever, but leave this shit alone. You don’t want any part of me.”

  Kane glared at her, waiting for a response. Tia sat in frozen silence, as if her throat had somehow been clamped shut. She knew Kane sensed victory. Even the jail guard was smirking as if enjoying a rare chance to feel superior. Somewhere in the distance the shrill sound of an alarm signaled the beginning or end of some jailhouse routine. The guard gave the door three sharp raps.

  When the door opened, Kane raised an eyebrow, but Tia was still incapable of speech. His smile grew wider as he turned and walked out, followed by his obedient escort. The door slammed shut and Tia sat alone in the small room, staring at nothing. Her fingers took up a new beat, drumming against the table, and her knee bounced hard underneath.

  SEVEN

  From the doorway Tia stole a look inside. Lit from behind by the midday sun, Ben Sawyer was turned away from her, staring at a framed photograph of his family that he held in two hands. Tia knew the picture well. She had taken it a few days after her return from Mexico. Ben and Alex had insisted she come by the house to see the new baby, Isabella.

  The photo showed the whole Sawyer clan in the backyard of their Newberg home, with a backdrop of a perfect Wisconsin sunset. It was the last time Tia had visited the family. There were too many secrets between them now. Tia gave the doorframe a soft rap; Ben jerked slightly, startled, then turned quickly to face her. She stepped into the office.

  “Excuse me, Chief. You wanted to see me?”

  He was a near-perfect picture of professionalism: uniform pants sharply creased, boots and basket-weave belt polished to a black sheen. Only the snowy white T-shirt he wore detracted from his image—but a crisply pressed uniform shirt bearing a metal badge and four gold stars on the collar hung from the back of a chair, ready to be put on at a moment’s notice.

  His close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, his flat stomach, and the jagged scar that ran across his cheek gave Ben the appearance of a military commando more than a small-town police chief. Tia knew he was coming up on forty-five, but he looked like he could still outrun and outgun most of the cops on Newberg PD, though they averaged a little over half his age.

  The first time Tia had seen Ben wearing the four stars of a chief, she’d jumped to her feet, given him a mock salute, and called him Patton. The half-dozen officers nearby had laughed and Tia had felt a pang of guilt at the sight of his embarrassed expression. But even now, as he offered her a tight but genuine-looking smile, she hoped some part of him was still happy to see her.

  “Get in here.” His voice was laced with friendly sarcasm as he set the framed photo down on his desk. “You been dodging me?”

  Tia navigated past half a dozen still-unpacked boxes as she cautiously entered the room. The office was too large for its current furnishings, but Ben had stripped away all reminders of the previous occupant. The mahogany bureau, the Italian leather desk chair, the fancy rug, and other opulent accessories were gone, replaced by a gray metal desk, two worn swivel chairs, and a new, cloth-covered couch. Practical items that spoke of dedication to the work.

  The lingering stench of stale cigar smoke and a dozen empty wall hooks were all that remained of the man who had recently been evicted from the office of the Newberg Chief of Police, courtesy of Tia Suarez and Ben Sawyer. The sparsely decorated office represented a healing wound, one not yet scabbed over.

  “Damn right,” Tia answered. “You’re the chief now. I’ve got a reputation to look out for, you know? Rebel. Department rabble-rouser. That sort of thing.”

  “True enough. I never liked spending time in the chief’s office either. But now that I got you in here, take a seat. How are things?”

  Tia remained standing. They had been friends once, but he was her boss and that was a boss’s question. “Yeah, right, Ben. Like your phone didn’t blow up with calls. Was it Kane’s lawyer or did one of those jailhouse guards dime me off?”

  She had to give the chief credit. He didn’t shout. His voice was controlled. “Forget about who called. Fact is, you know better. The guy is represented by counsel. He’s in custody. How is it you think you can walk into a jailhouse, in another county no less, and interrogate him?”

  Tia hoisted herself onto the edge of Ben’s desk and let her feet hang six inches above the carpet.

  “Hey, the DA wants to kick him loose, why shouldn’t I talk to him? No court proceedings. No charges. What the hell. I figured I might as well try to get something out of the guy before he walks.” She shrugged. “Somebody has to.”

  She managed to sound flippant, hiding her guilty conscience, but Ben didn’t take well to her tone. His smile vanished and he became all business.

  “And you figured that was your decision? A case from another jurisdiction? Now this Patricia Graham woman tells me you threatened a prisoner with retaliation. She was so fired up she practically jumped through the phone.”

  “She called?” Tia really hadn’t expected that. “I swear. The nerve of that—” She looked down at her boots and stopped herself. Insulting the DA wouldn’t help. “This should have been a prison case. She let the guy walk on a misdemeanor. After assaulting a cop. One of your cops. You telling me you’re okay with that?”

  It was Ben’s turn to sound indignant. “Of course I’m not okay with it. But what you or I think doesn’t matter. We don’t file cases; lawyers do.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Tia fumed. Her voice became a near shout. “Hell, I could win this case. If that lawyer—”

  “That’s enough!” Ben cut her off. “Tone it down. You were out of line with the prosecutor and you sure as hell were out of line by going to the jail. I’ll say it again. This guy is represented by counsel. He’s locked up. That means hands-off and you damn well know it.”

  Tia stared at him as the silence became uncomfortable. She knew she had pushed past his limits and tried to regroup. “Jesus, Ben. This whole thing has been a mess from the beginning. I can’t help but think if the operation had just gone better…”

  When her voice trailed away, Ben answered, his tone a bit more reasonable, “I’ve been over all that with Jackson. It’s over and done with.”

  “Don’t go blaming Jackson. Hell, I’m the one who wandered off camera.” Tia tried to shrug it off.
“It was all good until it wasn’t. You know how it is when you look back. Woulda, shoulda, coulda. We all came out okay, but I’m telling you, the case on Kane was solid. We had him on felony assault. There’s no way he should be getting a pass.”

  “Well, he is,” Ben said with a sigh. “You need to deal with it and that means no rogue visits to the jail to try to put a twist on the suspect. This case is done.”

  He rubbed his hand against the deep scar that ran from the corner of his eye to his upper lip, giving his face the look of ill-fitted puzzle pieces. Damn, we got some history, she thought, remembering when he’d gotten that wound. But now, it’s like we’re strangers. How did that happen? She picked up on his frustration, something beyond Kane. There’s more to come, she thought.

  “I know I’m not operational anymore, Tia, but I have to say there is no way you should have been working U/C. If I had known about it, I would have put the whole thing down.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal,” she said, striving for lightness.

  “It was too soon. You shouldn’t have been out there. Jackson claims you talked him into it against his better judgment. Says you really pushed for this.”

  “Yeah? What do you want, Ben? Cops who like sitting around, twiddling their thumbs, waiting for something to just fall into their laps?”

  “You could’ve really gotten messed up.” She heard the concern in his voice.

  “But I wasn’t. It was nobody’s fault, Ben. It was a one-in-a-million kind of thing. One second I’m talking to a john, and the next thing I know there’s two of them and they’re trying to force me into a van. That’s where they had the—”

  Tia stopped in mid-sentence as her grip slipped away from the girl’s ankle. She felt the moist sweat on her hand. The van door slammed shut and sped from the lot. The sights and sounds of the event were as fresh as ever.

  “That’s the other thing,” Ben said. “About this girl you say was in the van.…”

  The doubt in his voice made her strike back. “That I say was in the van? She was there, Ben. Tied up and gagged.”