A Voice from the Field

by Neal Griffin

Everyone turned to look at Tia. She didn’t explain, just waited for an answer.

  “Who are you talking about, Suarez?” Stahl asked.

  “You know exactly who I’m talking about. We agreed that Kane would be arrested today and we would enter into search and rescue mode.”

  “And now we’re discussing other contingencies.”

  “There are no other contingencies.” Tia moved closer. “We’ve already had that conversation. Last night they were holding a sex auction. God knows what’s going on with the women inside that club. And we still have no idea where he’s holding the kidnap victim. Seems to me we have a call of duty here.”

  “Oh, the sex auction?” Stahl’s voice held a sarcastic tone. “Would you like to know about the victim you rescued?

  “Her name is Allison ‘Pepper’ Coltrane. Alias Allison Connors. Alias Allison Capers. Alias Pepper Hill. She’s wanted by Chicago PD for fraud. Bilked an old man out of his life savings, about two hundred K. On top of that, she has a criminal history that goes back seven years for drugs, theft, credit card fraud, and—oh, this will come as a real shock—prostitution.”

  None of that mattered to Tia. “She was chained to a pole, Stahl. Men were bidding on her.”

  “And now she’s in protective custody, all right? But I’m not sure who got protected from whom, to be honest with you.”

  Tia shook her head in disgust but moved on to the bigger issue. “And the underage girl in the van?”

  “I think we can pretty safely assume her circumstances aren’t too much different than those of Miss Coltrane-Connors-Capers-Hill.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “We went over this, Suarez. We’re talking about a federal operation with years of investment.” Stahl held up his hand, thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “We’re this close to decimating a militia organization with designs against the U.S. government. We’re not going to risk this operation for a bunch of hookers and pole dancers. Why can’t you understand that?”

  “They’re just not worth the government’s time, right?” Tia said scornfully.

  “You’re damn right,” Stahl practically yelled. “You got a problem with that, Suarez?”

  The room fell silent until Delafield spoke up.

  “I got a problem with it.” Stahl and Tia both turned to the undercover, who went on. “What the hell, Stahl? Did you really just say that shit?”

  Stahl tried to bring the man back on board. Tia noticed the attitude Stahl had displayed toward her was gone, replaced by respect and negotiation. “Look, Curtis. You’ve put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into this case. I don’t want that to go to waste.”

  Delafield shook his head. “Sounds like we got a lot of cleanup work to do. Maybe we should move now, take him down like we originally planned. I’ll go back in, bring him out to the parking lot.” Other men began nodding.

  The dynamic between Delafield and Stahl was now clear to Tia. The operation might belong to Stahl on paper, but he needed Delafield to make it happen. The classic desk jockey and foot soldier combination. Stahl didn’t want to alienate his U/C, which meant he had to play nice with Tia. She could see the disgust on his face as he turned to her, before his professional mask slipped back into place.

  “Look, Detective, all I’m saying is, it turns out the woman from last night is a pretty righteous crook. But even though she’s got a felony warrant hanging over her head, we took her into protective custody. Unfortunately for her, it’s likely to be upgraded to criminal custody before too long.” Stahl shrugged as if to say, Not my problem, then continued. “And, as I’ve said all along, I don’t want to risk this high-stakes case on an unconfirmed kidnapping.”

  “Oh? Are we back to that now? You telling me I didn’t see anything that night?”

  “No, but I am telling you that whoever you saw is likely to be a prostitute or another stripper. That’s the business Kane and Tanner are in. If she wasn’t being treated like a lady, we can deal with that issue later. But whoever she is, whatever she is, she won’t come off as a credible victim. Prosecution would be unlikely. The best chance we have to put Kane away for any real time is our federal sting.”

  He turned away to the assistant U.S. attorney. “Patricia, we need to rethink our strategy. This new development gives us a chance to significantly increase our asset seizure. Plus, we can really strengthen our ability to prosecute. If Kane took possession of grenade launchers?” Stahl shook his head. “Stick a fork in him. He’d be looking at life.”

  Tia jumped back in. “What are you talking about? You’ve already got plenty to prosecute this guy on. You can’t be serious about stringing this out any longer.”

  Delafield said, “Obviously, Hellhounds and grenade launchers purchased by a white supremacist separatist organization? That’s a fricking 9/11 headline, for sure. And it would completely destroy any possible defense. Hell, I could try that case.”

  He looked at Tia. Something flickered in his eyes—uncertainty? Insincerity? “But Suarez is right; there are other considerations.”

  It occurred to Tia that Delafield wasn’t playing to her. Graham was his target. Looking at Graham, Tia saw an attorney who wanted her case wrapped tight and sealed with a bow before she walked into a courtroom or, more important, before she stood shoulder to shoulder with the attorney general in front of TV cameras.

  “We’ve already handed over a hundred automatic rifles,” Graham said. “I will not put grenade launchers in this man’s hands unless it is under the most controlled circumstances.”

  Stahl was quick to answer. “We can use dummies. Or disabled launchers. Either way, the intent will still be there and we never let him leave the delivery site.”

  Graham threw out another concern. “And the guns? The ammunition? He’s already holding all that.”

  “All the weapons are serialized,” Stahl said. He gestured at the bank of televisions, clearly annoyed with the lawyer’s questions. “We’ve got eyes on. He can’t move the hardware without our knowing.”

  Graham looked around the room, managing to avoid Tia’s stare.

  “All right,” Graham said. “I want to know if he’s serious about this next move. If so, we can make a controlled delivery of grenade launchers. But I want us to use dummies. I can work with that for court purposes. Once he accepts delivery, Kane will be immediately taken into custody. No more delays. Is that clear, Agent Stahl?”

  “Absolutely. I agree one hundred percent.”

  “I don’t believe you people.” Tia was on her feet and headed for the door.

  Stahl called out, “Just a minute, Detective. Where are you going?”

  She spun around. “Away from here, Stahl. I don’t want to have anything to do with this operation of yours. Count me out.”

  “You do realize everything you heard was classified?”

  “I get it, Stahl. You people, DTAT or whatever it is you call yourselves, work whatever case you want. But I’m working a kidnapping. If our paths cross, so be it. Get in my way, Stahl, and you won’t like what happens.”

  Tia reached for the door and found it was locked. She refused to turn around or ask permission to leave. Stahl spoke in tones of ice. “You’re going to need an escort.”

  “I’ll walk her out,” Delafield said.

  “Fine,” Stahl said, “but hurry up. I want to decide when and how we’re going to deliver the launchers.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  They walked back to the elevator without a word between them, Tia doing a slow burn. While Delafield produced a key and called the elevator, Tia finally spoke. “That little act back there? You played Graham like a violin.”

  It seemed to Tia that Delafield did his best to look confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Save it, Delafield. I’ve navigated a few minefields with deep-cover types. I’ll admit it. You got skills.”

  As she expected, the man stayed in character. “Really, Suarez. I’m not following you.” />
  Tia smirked and turned to face the closed elevator doors. “Fine. Sorry for my mistake. But seriously, I’ve gone after a few high-value targets. I know how sometimes you need to make changes on the fly. But you guys? You’re out of control. Stahl is winging this shit. I’m going back to Newberg.”

  The elevator doors opened and Tia stepped in. When she turned back, Delafield abruptly stuck out his hand. Caught off guard, she shook hands. “I’m still hoping we get a chance to work together, Suarez. And trust me on this—nothing you said today went unnoticed. Thanks for speaking your mind.”

  Delafield withdrew his hand, turned, and walked away. Tia balled her fists as the elevator doors closed and the cab moved slowly upward. Her gaze drifted up to the red light of the security camera in the upper corner. A moment later the doors opened and the same thick-necked boy-guard stood waiting to silently escort her back to his desk. She gave him the side-eye but said nothing.

  He handed over the envelope with her badge and ID and Tia’s first act was to pull out the locker key and retrieve her gun. She felt him scanning her body as she jammed in the magazine and pulled back the slide to chamber a round. She reholstered, giving him a hard look. “If you get tired of this gig and you want to do some police work, you should give us a call.”

  His expression turned sour. “Sure. I’ll join up with Newberg PD. Great career move.”

  “Yeah, on second thought, maybe you’re right. I hear elevator attendants are making a comeback.”

  After making her way back through the rabbit warren of the federal building basement, Tia hustled to the car. She couldn’t resist glancing back over her shoulder, half-expecting to see she was being followed, but the lot was clear. Once she was in her GTO, she opened her fist and looked at the bit of paper Delafield had slipped into her hand during their farewell.

  TODAY. NOON. CROSSROADS CAFÉ ON HWY 53.

  Tia looked at her phone. It was coming up on 9:00 A.M. Delafield wanted to meet in three hours, and whatever it was he wanted to talk about, he had gone through a lot of trouble to be sure they weren’t going to be overheard. Nothing you said today went unnoticed.

  Yeah, I’ll be there, she thought. But before that, I got one other stop to make. She dropped the goat into gear and lit out of the parking lot, headed back to Newberg.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Tia parked in front of the neat Victorian home and smiled at the sight of old friends. Alex Sawyer knelt in the grass, surrounded by a half a dozen potted plants, a bag of organic gardening soil, and an assortment of yard tools. A few strands of blond hair peeked out from under her broad-brimmed sun hat and her cotton tank top showed off the toned muscle of her arms. Tia watched Alex scan the ground, stop as if she had found just the right spot, then plunge a metal spade into the lawn, clawing a hole in the soft black dirt.

  Tia’s old boss, former Newberg Police Chief Lars Norgaard, sat nearby, leaning forward in a folding lawn chair, pointing his cane at a nearby patch of grass. He wore a Packer ball cap that looked to be about as old as the team, and Tia saw he had given up the tight crew cut he’d long favored. Wispy red hair had grown to his collar and even from a distance Tia could see a shine in his blue eyes.

  When she got out of the car, Alex was saying, “No. That’s no good, Dad. It’s too close. Impatiens like to spread.”

  Tia heard Lars’s mumbled response but couldn’t make out the words. Alex shook her head and replied, “Well, I don’t want them to mound. I want them to spread. So if you want a mound of impatiens you can—”

  Tia shut the car door and Alex looked up, giving Tia the full effect of her warm smile.

  “Well, hey, Tia. Long time no see. How are you?”

  “Hey, Alex. I’m great.” Tia turned to her old boss. It had been over a year since his stroke, and recovery had been difficult. “Hey, Chief. How are you, sir?”

  Lars beamed and he gave a vigorous thumbs-up. Alex stood and walked toward Tia. The two women embraced.

  “Him?” Alex looked back at her father, hands on her hips. “He’s bossy as ever and now he’s an expert in gardening. I’m starting to think I liked it better when he couldn’t talk.”

  Lars reached out with his cane and poked his daughter in the butt.

  “Dad!”

  Lars grinned and spoke to Alex lovingly. Again Tia couldn’t make out the words, but clearly Alex did. She kissed him on the top of his head. “Oh, you know I’m joking. I love having you tell me how to plant, cook, and clean. Who wouldn’t, right, Tia?”

  “No way.” Tia raised her hands. “I’m staying a hundred miles away from this one. But you do look great, sir.”

  As if to show off, Lars began to stand, raising a hand in protest when Alex moved to help. It took some time and effort, but he made it to his feet. The frail old man Tia had seen last spring had been replaced with a new figure. He was by no means the “Redheaded Norseman” who had once walked the halls of Newberg PD with the four stars on his collar, but his chest had filled out and his ruddy Nordic coloring had returned. Leaning heavily on his cane, he pumped one fist in victory.

  “Nice job, Chief.” Tia nodded in approval.

  Alex smiled at her dad, hurrying over to help him back into his chair. When she turned back to Tia, the younger woman could see the concern on her friend’s face. “How are you, really? I’ve missed seeing you at the coffeehouse. Are you just dropping by or can you stay for a while?”

  “Sorry, Alex, it’s business. I need to see the chief. I went by the office, but Caroline said he wouldn’t be in until later. It’s kind of important. Is he home?”

  Tia and Alex turned at the sound of the screen door. Ben and the Sawyers’ son, Jake, stepped out onto the porch. Both waved, but it was the boy who seemed most excited.

  “Hey, Tia,” Jake called out. Tia thought he’d grown a foot in height since she had last seen him. Jake used one hand to vault over the porch railing and dropped three feet to land lightly on the grass like a jungle cat, not a teenage boy. He jogged over and gave Tia a hug.

  “Jake, you’re like six feet tall.” Tia looked up at the teenager who towered over her. “What are you? Eighteen now?”

  Jake blushed. All the adults knew the boy had a monster of a crush on her.

  “I’m almost fourteen,” he said. “I’m only five eight, but I’ll be six foot before I finish high school.”

  “Keep an eye on this one, Alex. He’s going to be breaking hearts pretty soon.”

  “He already is,” Alex answered. “Mine. He’s growing up too fast.”

  As if on cue, a coo came from the nearby bassinet, which was sitting on a blanket in the shade of the massive maple tree that dominated the front yard. Alex swooped in fast.

  “Oh, I know, Izzy. I’ve got you to dote on now, don’t I?”

  Tia looked at Ben, still standing on the porch. Arms folded across his chest, he leaned against a support post, his face practically glowing with satisfaction and affection. Family was everything to Ben, and Tia knew it.

  “Hey, boss,” she said. “How are you?”

  Ben came down off the porch and walked over. They shook hands.

  “Good, Tia. I was going to head to the office in a few minutes. What’s going on? Is Kane in custody?”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk with you about, Chief. I need to catch you up on a few things.”

  “Tia, stay for lunch,” Alex said, now cradling the baby in her arms.

  Tia thought it sounded more like an order than an invitation but knew she couldn’t accept. “I wish I could, Alex. But I’ve got some stuff to do.” Picking up on Jake’s look of disappointment, Tia added, “Soon, though. I’d really like that.”

  Ben led her around the back of the house so they could have more privacy.

  “Is it too much to hope you came by to tell me we bagged Kane? Victim recovered, mission accomplished?”

  Tia laughed sarcastically. “We’re a long way from that. Stahl and his team want to postpone the arrest. Something about Kane want
ing to step up his game. They went into the whole national security bullshit again.” She took a deep breath. “I walked out. Sorry, Chief. I can’t handle these guys. I just don’t get where they’re coming from.”

  Ben stared straight ahead and nodded in a way that told Tia he was holding something back.

  “Don’t tell me Graham called again?” she said. “What did she say about me this time?”

  “No. Nothing like that.”

  “Then what, Ben? Tell me what’s going on.”

  They reached the back patio and took seats around the fire pit, which was still full of hickory ash from the spring. “I paid a visit to Sheriff Solo.”

  “Really?” Tia said, her voice disdainful. “And how is old blood and gutless?”

  “Pretty bloodied up and feeling pretty gutless,” Ben said. “He’s handed over all jurisdiction to Stahl’s team. He said he’s gotten some very clear direction from the state capital, basically orders to stay out of Stahl’s way. He made it pretty clear to me that he wants nothing to do with Gunther Kane.”

  “I don’t get that, Chief. The guy ran for office on an anti-fed campaign. Every chance he gets to slam the federal government, he calls a press conference.”

  “True, but you said it yourself. He runs for office. In the end, let’s face it: he’s a politician. He’s got to stay in the club or, come the next election, he’ll find out all his money has dried up.

  “Fact is, Tia, I got a couple of calls myself. The mayor and also a guy pretty far up the food chain of Wisconsin DOJ.”

  “And?”

  “We’ve been urged to cooperate with Stahl. Let him run his operation.”

  “What the—” Tia stopped, took a breath, then said, “I don’t get it, Ben. Where does this guy get his juice?”

  “I got hold of an old friend,” Ben said. “We were beat partners in Oakland fifteen years ago. Sharp guy, went to school at night, finished up his degree, and hired on with ATF. He’s an ASAC now out of Los Angeles. I gave him a call. Filled him in. He called me back in less than an hour.”

  “Yeah? What did he tell you?”