by Maria Walton
She sat there for a while thinking. Had she been too harsh on him? She didn’t know him that well. She’d known his body and there was a truth and integrity to the way that he touched her, the way that he spoke to her. Yes, he didn’t tell her the whole truth and nothing but the truth but who does. She’d known that he’d been an accomplice to some degree but she never told Anita about Esteban’s infidelities, didn’t that make her an accomplice to some degree? He’d left enough money for another bottle of wine so she ordered another one. She let the food sit but the alcohol continued to wet her throat.
Esteban was let out a few days later. The bruises were still evident as was the rest of his injuries. His jaw was wired shut and he was out of work for weeks. Not that it mattered. Anita decided to sell the shop. She wanted out. Everything about Oakland had been cursed for her. Customers crowded in and out wanting to understand what exactly had happened. Rumors began to swirl as the truth was never made clear to anyone. The locals just knew that Esteban had been accused and that he was innocent. The slow simmer of anger that usually percolated in East Oakland was flaring hot.
Anita, though, felt relief after deciding to leave. It was a changing point for her, a new beginning. A smile spread across her face with the contentment of a cat that has just drank a bowl of warm milk. “It’s been too much. America. It is not good for us. We have worked too hard here for this to happen and yet it does,” she had said to Katie. “Thank you so much though. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know how it happened but, we are free.” It was as if a huge burden had been lifted off her –the weight of Esteban’s guilt.
Esteban looked at Katie and let his eyes drop with the same sense of shame as a guilty dog. He took out his phone and sent Katie a text message. He still could not speak.
The private investigator felt the buzz in her pocket and looked at her phone.
“Thank you and thank you for not telling.”
Katie nodded and walked out. She went back to her office with her meager pay from Anita and Esteban. It would be enough for the month to keep the lights on, to hopefully get another case. She looked at the news and saw that Richardson had gone missing. While official charges had never been made against him, she would make it look like Richardson had decided to fly the coop anyways and not risk the potential criminal case. Melanie’s family would decide to file a civil suit against him as well. If he won the criminal case he would surely not win the civil suit, Katie remembered the vindictiveness of Melanie’s sister. Everyone would think that a man like Richardson would flee.
Katie started to dwell on her memories. She remembered Richardson and the jail cell. She remembered the pictures of Melanie’s body.
She planned her night.
The confrontation with Richardson was much easier. She’d laid in wait for him and sat outside of the cop bar for five hours listening to podcasts as the minutes turned to hours. She waited and she waited and she waited. Eventually he came out. Richardson stumbled back and forth swaying like the branches of a willow tree in a gusty wind. She followed him to his car and when he opened the door she swiped the back of his head with a blackjack. She pushed his body onto the passenger seat. It took her five minutes to get his bulk over. He reeked like a rotten distillery. She drove to the outer edges of town and pulled off a side street. Dragging his body to the side of the street was much more difficult. She did it though.
“Wake up. Wake up,” Katie said slapping Richardson.
“What, what,” he replied.
“I said wake up.” Katie used the back of her hand on Richardson’s face.
“Fuck,” Richardson groaned.
“There’s gonna be more to say than just fuck.”
“What? What the fuck? Where am I?”
“Does it matter,” Katie replied.
“Listen do you know who I am? I can have you arrested. Thrown in a cell for the rest of your life.”
“Do you know who I am,” Katie told him. Darkness fell on her face. The moon was high in the sky and Richardson could see only her silhouette.
“No.”
“It’s better that way I think. Then you can’t tell.”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
“You certainly won’t but maybe you can tell me something. Tell me why.”
“Why what?”
“Why did you keep her, why did you control her?”
“She wanted to leave. I couldn’t let her.”
“So, because you were too weak to let her go you murdered her?”
“I didn’t,” Richardson sobbed. “I didn’t.”
“The driver. He saw you. You paid him to be quiet. Cops, they never get charged with anything. It’s always carte blanche.”
“No. No. I’ll turn myself in.”
Katie could smell the stench of urine. She looked down at Richardson’s leg. A small pool of piss was growing. It spread out from his crotch and down his leg.
“She didn’t piss herself,” Katie said.
“She deserved it.”
“And so do you.”
Katie took the bag of blood oranges out. The first swipe across his face pushed him to the ground. The second broke his nose. Blood started to pour out. Richardson started to cough and suffocate on his blood. Katie rose the bag of oranges high above her and rotated her core down bringing the bag of oranges crashing onto the police officer’s head. The oranges and his skull split open. The purple and grey mixed together into the darkness of the night.
Her breath was the only sound. She took a large inhale through her noise and let it out through her mouth. I need to get rid of the body and the car, she thought. She grabbed the shotgun that was in the back of the car and shot at the gas tank. Liquid began to leak out onto the cement. It would have turned into beautiful rainbows of color if it had stayed that way. The gasoline smell filled her nostrils and she shot at the pool that surrounded the car and the corpse. It started to burn. The flames rose high, they were purple and yellow and red. The lights danced towards the sky rising higher and higher. The stench of burnt flesh filled Katie’s nostrils as she walked away.
It took her thirty minutes to walk far enough away to reach a 7-11. The fluorescent lights glowed when she went in. She bought herself a celebratory hot dog and a can of soda. There was no uber this far out of town so she called a cab, the old fashion way. When she finally arrived home, she took a shower. The water was hot, smoothing out the aches in her muscles from lifting the heavy police officer.
When she went to bed she dreamt of the cell with its cold steel bars and Richardson was there. He was nothing but a shadow. She had a key and let herself out of the cell. She walked out into the world. The sun was bright and warmed her skin. She woke up.
The next day there was no news. A car catching on fire was no cause for concern, not on the outskirts of town. Katie knew she’d covered her tracks well enough. Tony would have been proud. A good detective is also a good criminal. You just have to know how to wait for justice, she thought, or some semblance of justice.
Katie put her feet up on her desk. Another day. Another body. She heard her phone vibrate. She pulled it up. It was Vi.
“Do you want to go out sometime,” the text read.
She smiled. Warmth like a campfire filled her making her cheeks blush.
“Sure,” she replied.