The Lawman

by Martha Shields

  He’d witnessed that effect himself. “Fine by me.”

  They fell silent for a long minute, then she asked, “So they’re headed for the border, you think?”

  “Maybe. I never make assumptions. He might have gone that way to throw us off track, to make us concentrate there while he heads another way. We’re continuing the search in all directions. We finally got a helicopter. The FBI brought it in from Houston. They’re making concentric circles around Mission Creek.”

  “The FBI is involved now?”

  “They’re lending support. Mission Creek PD still has command.”

  “All right.” She gave him a cool smile. “Sounds as if you’ve got things under control. At least as much as it can be under the circumstances. Thank you, Chief White.”

  He wanted to wipe all that professionalism right off her face. But he didn’t. Not only had he sworn to her, and to himself, to behave, there was also too much to do.

  Suddenly the tranquillity filling the room was oppressive, and he stood. He needed demanding, restless energy, not all this hocus-pocus. “Just doing my job, lady. Speaking of which, I’ll get back to it.”

  “Yeah?”

  Jake smiled at the familiar voice and shifted the phone so he could talk into the mouthpiece. Finally something was going right. “Kind of an informal greeting for the Houston PD’s tech department, isn’t it, P.C.?”

  The technical wizard’s real name was Paul Conlee, but everyone called him P.C. because he couldn’t breathe unless it was through a computer.

  “Hey, I know that voice. Jake, my man! How are you?”

  Before Jake could reply, P.C. continued. “Wait a minute.” Suddenly P.C.’s voice became excited. “I know why you called. From what I heard on the radio, you’ve got trouble. What do you need?”

  “Got any surveillance equipment to spare?” Jake leaned back in the secretary’s chair. Marie was out tracking down sandwiches for some of his men. “You wouldn’t believe the antiquated stuff we have here. I swear, they bought it in Eisenhower’s administration. To record a phone conversation, you have to flip a switch, and the tracing equipment takes three minutes. My only hope is that the perp is stupid enough to call from a phone that’ll give an ID.”

  “Sure, man, we can lend you whatever you need. Only trouble is, we can’t get it to you until probably Monday morning.”

  “Monday? Why the hell not?”

  “We’re short staffed. There’s a three-day virus going around the department. I had it a couple of days ago and puked my guts out for a full—”

  “You can skip the gory details.” Jake drove a hand back through his hair. “If Monday’s the best you can do, it’s the best you can do.”

  “I’d drive it over there myself, man, but I’m still weak from the bug. The only reason I came into work is that no one else showed up in my department.”

  “That’s okay, P.C. We’ll get by. It’s not as if we don’t have any equipment. I’d ask the Feds, but they’d insist on manning their own gear since none of my men have been trained on it. And Burl wants to keep them out of our hair as much as possible. We borrowed a chopper from them. That’s as far as he wants to go at the moment.”

  “Hey, man, I’m with you there. I’ll get you state-of-the-art as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks, P.C.”

  “No sweat. That it?”

  Jake hesitated, then asked, “Is Hackleman in today?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll transfer you up there and you can see.”

  “Thanks.”

  Two rings later, a gruff voice answered, “Hackleman.”

  Jake swiveled the chair so he was facing away from the room full of Mission Creek officers. “Hey, Bill. This is Jake White.”

  “Well, well, well. You’re in a crock of it over there, aren’t you?”

  Jake heard a distinct creak and could picture Bill leaning back in his chair so far you’d swear it was going to tip. Some things never changed.

  “I’ve got it under control.”

  “Yeah, you’re good at that, aren’t you? What can I do you for?”

  “You worked for the Dallas PD, didn’t you?”

  “I’ve been in Houston for fifteen years, so it’s been a while. What ya need?”

  “Did you know an officer named Al Monroe?”

  “Sounds vaguely familiar. Why?”

  “I just need some background on the hospital administrator here. She’s Al’s daughter. She hates cops and I think her father’s the reason. You know me. I want all the information possible. This’ll help to know what I’m dealing with.”

  “I’ll have to make a few phone calls.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  “No sweat, pal. Good luck over there.”

  “Thanks. I’ve got a feeling I’m going to need all the luck I can get.” Jake stared at the phone as he set it in the cradle.

  He firmly reminded himself that he hadn’t asked Bill for the information for personal reasons. He had a sound basis for wanting to know about Tabitha’s father. Knowing as much as possible about the people he was dealing with—on both ends of the spectrum—could make a crucial difference at some point in the case. And Tabitha was a key player.

  If only he could be a little more convincing.

  Two seconds later Jake was still staring at the phone when it rang. The secretary had a sophisticated enough phone that it gave the caller’s identification on a single-line screen across the top.

  Unknown name. Unknown number.

  Hines, perhaps? Using an over-the-counter calling card? Anyone could pick one up at a Wal-Mart or quick-stop gas station.

  “This might be him, men,” Jake said in a loud, attention-getting voice. “You ready?”

  Dan Hammel, Mission Creek’s version of P.C., snapped earphones into place and poised his hand over the switch.

  “That’s him?” Tabitha’s breathless voice asked from the door.

  Jake turned to find her beautiful blue eyes unnaturally wide, and her face white from a sudden lack of blood.

  He tossed his head at her office. “I want you to answer it in there.”

  She spun and ran back to her desk.

  “Wait to pick up until I signal you,” he called after her.

  He stood in the door between the two offices and, on the third ring, he pointed at Dan, who flipped the switch. Jake nodded at Tabitha, then walked into her office. He was followed by several of his men.

  Tabitha took a deep breath, calming herself. Several emotions screamed through her. Now that the moment was at hand, she was frightened at the prospect of talking to Hines. She was also nervous. So much so, her hand trembled when she reached for the phone. The conversation was being recorded, so everyone in the world would know if she made the tiniest mistake.

  But underlying everything was enough anger at the stupid, selfish man who thought he could intimidate an entire town into giving him what he wanted that her voice was strong when she gave her standard greeting.

  “Tabitha Monroe. Can I help you?”

  “Hello, Miss Monroe. This is Hank Haynes of the National Syndicated Press. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if I may. First, what are the chances of…”

  The tension leaving her in a whoosh, Tabitha held the phone away from her ear and told Jake, “It’s a reporter.”

  Anger flashed across his face. “The hell it is. I ordered them to stay off your line.”

  “What should I say?”

  “Tell him to be at the press conference at seven. Say nothing else.”

  Tabitha complied, then hung up the phone on a man still trying to weasel a couple of answers from her. “Why do they do that?”

  He came closer. “Some of them think they’re above the law, but they’ll find out different at the press conference when I promise expulsion for every reporter calling this number.”

  “Thank you.” She relaxed against her leather chair as the other officers filed out, grumbling.

  “You as disappointed as t
hey are?” Jake asked.

  She focused on his face. “A little, I guess. It would be nice to have this over. But I’m relieved, too.”

  He nodded in understanding, then made his way around her desk.

  Alarmed, she stiffened upright.

  Stopping behind her chair, Jake placed his hands on her shoulders. “Sit back and relax.”

  He gently tried to coax her shoulders back, but didn’t force her.

  “I am relaxed.”

  “So relaxed your shoulders feel like concrete.” He began to knead them.

  “You surprised me is— Oh, that feels good.”

  “Then lean back and enjoy it.” There was a smile in his voice.

  After a few seconds Tabitha closed her eyes. No one had ever done this for her, except when she’d paid for it. But this felt much, much better than any formal massage she’d ever had. This felt like liquid heat pouring down her body. She refused to think about whether it was from the kneading action of the hands on her shoulders, or whose hands were on her shoulders.

  When his fingers climbed up her neck, she let her head loll forward. “Where did you learn to do this?”

  “I don’t know. Picked it up somewhere along the way.”

  “Do all the women you’ve—”

  “Shh. Relax.”

  Tabitha was a little miffed at him for implying she wasn’t relaxed, when she’d never felt this loose in her life. “You’re not exactly Mr. Tranquillity, you know. Did you sit down one time today?”

  “I sat down twice.”

  “Humph. Maybe you need a massage.”

  His hands paused briefly. “You offering?”

  Tabitha’s eyes popped open at the image that flashed into her mind. Suddenly warmth flowed from more places than his hands. Jeez. She’d walked right into that one.

  “In your dreams, copper.”

  He chuckled and continued massaging.

  “You were alone in the laundry room when Hines came down the chute?” Jake didn’t even wait until the next hospital employee, the hospital’s laundry room supervisor, was fully in his seat.

  Raul Hernandez cast a surprised glance at Tabitha. He was the third hospital employee interviewed and if this one went like the last two, she felt sincere sympathy for the second-generation Mexican-American.

  She gave Raul an encouraging nod.

  He turned to Jake. “Yes, sir, I was alone. The staff had gone home for the day. The laundry is staffed seven days a week, but only eight hours a day.”

  “Why were you there at 5:30 p.m.?” Jake asked.

  “I had paperwork,” Raul explained. “There’s a lot to do now that I’m boss.”

  Jake echoed on his comment, letting it trail off, suggesting more. “A lot to do…?”

  Raul frowned and glanced at Tabitha again. “Sir, if you’re thinking I helped the kidnapper, you’re wrong. I didn’t have time to do nothing. I was in my office in the back when I heard voices. Loud voices, arguing.”

  “And what did you do?”

  “Well, I was about to come out of my office to see what was going on, but I saw a man with a gun. He was standing by the bin under the laundry chute, holding a gun on a doctor and a nurse. They was climbing out of the bin. When they got out, he handcuffed them together.”

  “Dr. Walters and Nurse Matthews were arguing with him?”

  Raul shook his head. “No, sir. There was someone else there. A woman. But from where I was, I couldn’t see her. He was arguing with her.”

  Jake straightened. “This other woman…was it Mrs. Hines?”

  “I don’t know Mrs. Hines. And like I said, I couldn’t see the woman. She was standing by the door to the hall.”

  “You said she was arguing with Hines. What did she say?”

  “Not a lot. She sounded nervous, and real mad. She kept telling Hines to hurry up.”

  Jake paused, as if mulling over Raul’s answer, then asked, “You’re sure Hines didn’t see you?”

  “Well, sir, I’m thinking if he had, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

  “So you’re saying you didn’t help him in any way.”

  Raul glanced at Tabitha again.

  “Miss Monroe is not going to give you the answers, Hernandez,” Jake said harshly.

  “No, sir. I know. I just…” Raul was clearly confused. “No, sir. I didn’t help him. I waited in my office until they was gone.”

  “Where did they go?”

  With wide eyes, Raul lifted his hands. “How should I know that? All I know is they left, and I was happy they didn’t see me.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I called security to tell them what happened, and they told me the guy had kidnapped the nurse and doctor. They told me not to go home, and I didn’t until he told me I could.” Raul twisted in his seat to point at one of the officers behind him.

  The officer nodded.

  Jake studied Raul, making the air so thick with tension, Tabitha felt compelled to speak for her employee. “Raul is an excellent employee and supervisor. I have heard nothing but the highest praise from the people under him.”

  Jake frowned her into silence, then looked over Raul’s shoulders at two officers sitting on the red couch. “That jibe with your version?”

  The older one nodded. “He’s consistent on every detail.”

  Jake nodded and turned back to Raul. “Can you remember anything Hines or the woman said about where he might be going?”

  Raul shook his head regretfully. “Not that I can remember.”

  “Did he seem confident that he had a way to escape?”

  “I didn’t hear much, but from what I could tell, the guy is too crazy to think that far ahead.”

  Jake once again consulted the officers. “Can you think of anything else?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “Thanks, Mr. Hernandez. That’ll be all.”

  “I didn’t help the crazy guy.”

  Jake seemed surprised at Raul’s cry of innocence. “Okay. If you remember anything you think might be relevant, let us know.”

  “I will.” Raul stood. “I want the crazy guy to be caught.”

  “I know. We all do.” Jake walked Raul to the office door.

  “Thank you, Raul,” Tabitha called after him. She didn’t care whether Jake disapproved or not. She was not going to let Raul think she considered him guilty of anything.

  Raul turned. “I want to help any way I can, Miss Monroe.”

  “I know. You helped a lot. The police are just trying to piece everything together. Why don’t you go on home?”

  He shook his head vehemently. “There’s too much work to do.”

  “You’re a good man, Raul Hernandez.”

  His relief was evident in his smile. “Thank you, Miss Monroe.”

  “I’ll see you later.”

  When Jake had closed the door behind Raul, he turned back to the other officers. “Who’s next?”

  The older man consulted a clipboard on his lap. “A Mrs. Juanita Applebaum. She was one of the—”

  “Hey, Chief.”

  Jake turned to the officer who’d stuck his head in the door. “Yeah?”

  “Mrs. Hines is on her way. She should be here in about twenty minutes.”

  “Good. Have her wait in the outer office when she gets here.” Jake turned back to the officers in the room. “We’ll have Mrs. Applebaum come back tomorrow.”

  The younger one stood. “Good. I need to, uh, stretch my legs anyway.”

  “Me, too.” The older man stood with a little more difficulty and followed the other out the door.

  “What about you?” Jake asked Tabitha.

  “I’m fine.”

  He meandered over and slumped in one of the chairs facing her desk. Rubbing his hands down his face, he asked, “Isn’t this day over yet?”

  She glanced at the clock on her desk. “It’s barely five o’clock.”

  He groaned. “We still have a press conference to get through.”
/>
  “Yes, we do.”

  He sighed, then stood suddenly and began to pace in front of her desk.

  She frowned. He couldn’t sit still for long. She watched him for several minutes, then finally asked the question that had been burning inside her since the first interview. “Why do you do that?”

  He stopped dead and looked at her, obviously surprised. “Do what?”

  “You’ve treated everyone you’ve questioned today as if they’ve done something wrong. These are all good people. They would never have helped Hines in any way.”

  His face hardened. “You can never be sure.”

  “Probably the worst thing Raul’s done in his life is drive without a seat belt.”

  “In my line of work I rarely come across a person who has done nothing wrong.”

  “So everyone is guilty and has to prove that they’re innocent? Remember a little something called the Constitution? It guarantees that Americans will be considered innocent until proved guilty.”

  He started pacing again. “I didn’t say they were guilty.”

  “That’s the way you act. It’s what you make them think.”

  “They need to believe that I’m serious.”

  “You’re scaring them half to death.”

  “It never hurts to put the fear of God into people.”

  She shook her head. “You are such a cop.”

  He stopped pacing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You exist in the shadows, seeing only the black in the world. You believe everyone is bad, that the world is screwed up and you’re the only one who can clean up the mess.”

  He lifted his chin. “You make it sound as if I think I’m some superhero or something.”

  She quirked a brow. “If the cape fits…”

  “Oh, give me a break. We have a deadly serious situation here. I should be acting like a clown?”

  “You should be acting as if you don’t think the entire hospital staff is Branson Hines’s accomplice. Ever hear the expression, ‘You catch a lot more flies with honey than with vinegar’?”

  “Your point?”

  “You’ll get much more information out of people if you make them relax. When you hang a sword over people’s heads with a thread and then growl in their face, the only thing they can think of is getting the hell out of here.”