“I’m sore, that’s all. The tourist knew my name?”
“I recognized you; the tourist just called you a hero. You up for some Chinese? Mitch is out of town and I hate to eat alone. Besides, I want to hear the train story. And help you out with your aches if I can.”
Crumbs on the arm of her chair reminded Abby about her dinner of Oreos. “Yeah, I probably should eat some real food.”
“Cool. I’ll be over in a few. Any specific requests?”
“Surprise me.” When she ended the call, Abby stretched again, causing Bandit to hop off her lap. After a few minutes she went to her room to dress, glad Megan had called. While she loved working alone, at home she liked having company. An empty house was not her favorite thing.
For some reason Abby’s mood deteriorated after she climbed into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt.
“Should I have said yes to Megan?” she asked Bandit, who wagged his tail in response. She was tired and irritated. Irritated because she was tired.
“I won’t be good company.” She talked as she straightened up the dining room and kitchen. The little dog followed her from room to room, and she decided that he understood everything she said.
“Megan is on her way. I can’t call and cancel now.” She grabbed a Diet Coke from the fridge, hoping the caffeine would wash away the irritation. After the first sip she laughed out loud at how easy it was to talk to the dog.
“Maybe I’m crazy, Bandit. Maybe my job is making me certifiably wacko.”
The dog just wagged his tail.
The doorbell rang. Abby opened it to see Megan and another friend, Jessica, at the door with a huge bag of Chinese food. Irritation fled at the sight of her smiling friends, and she waved them inside.
“I decided to bring a ride-along.” Megan smiled; then her eyes got big. “Ooo, who’s the little guy?”
Both Jessica and Megan went crazy over Bandit. Abby had met Jessica while at work. She’d been the victim of a domestic violence situation while Abby was still in uniform. Once freed from her abuser, Jessica embarked on a mission to become independent and physically fit and strong. She and Abby became fast friends and sometimes gym partners. Jessica eventually became a part of the beach volleyball rotation, which was how she met Megan.
“He belonged to a victim from last night,” Abby explained as she closed the door. The two women acted as if Bandit were the cutest thing ever. Abby didn’t stop them because she agreed.
“I didn’t have the heart to dump him off at animal control, so here we are.”
“What’s his name?” Jessica asked.
“Bandit. What are you doing here? I thought you were working parties all week.”
“Tonight’s got canceled. I ran into Megan at the Fortune Cookie and decided to invite myself over here.”
“I’m glad,” Abby said, and she meant it, irritation forgotten. “The more the merrier. Looks like you brought enough food for an army.”
Megan held the bags up and headed for the dining room table. “Whatever is left over I’ll take home for Mitch. Hope you’re hungry.” She saw the flowers. “Oh, gorgeous! From Ethan?”
“Yes, and yes to being hungry.” Abby’s stomach growled.
“Fill us in on the train,” Megan said as she set the food down.
Jessica picked up Bandit and carried him to the table. “And maybe bring out your laptop. I haven’t seen the video.”
“Let’s eat first.”
Abby grabbed plates, silverware, and serving spoons from the kitchen, and her friends efficiently spread everything out and began serving.
“You pray,” Abby said to Megan when they were ready to eat. “I’m still not awake.”
“Sure thing. Lord, we thank you for the food and for protecting our crazy friend from her crazy impulses to save people. Bless it all . . .”
Megan and Jessica said a resounding amen.
“Aw,” Abby protested. “Like anyone could just stand there and let someone get crushed by a train.”
Jessica laughed. “We know you couldn’t, which is one of the reasons we love you.”
“So this poor little guy’s owner got murdered last night?” Megan asked, pointing to Bandit.
“Umm, yeah, she did,” Abby said with a mouth full of mu shu pork.
“You catch the bad guy?” Jessica asked.
Abby swallowed her food and a swig of Diet Coke. “I did. There’ll be a big press conference about it tomorrow.”
Jessica gave her two thumbs up.
“Oh, don’t tell me the killer was the guy you saved from the train?” Megan dropped her chopsticks.
“Well, when I saved him from the train, I wasn’t certain he was the killer. I am now.” Abby told them about the granny murders, her witness, and Lil’ Sporty.
“From time to time I wonder how you do it, how you deal with poor murdered people all the time,” Megan said with a shake of her head.
“Sometimes it’s rough.” Abby dug into the chicken with snow peas, content. It was good to have friends.
“Yeah, but it’s got to be satisfying when you put them away. I know the most satisfying day of my life was when the jury said guilty and Rory was out of my life for good.” Jessica did a brief drumroll on the table.
“That, and knowing they won’t ever hurt anyone else gives me satisfaction.”
Jessica had unfolded like a flower once her ex was gone for good. The confident woman before her now bore little resemblance to the fearful woman Rory Brennan had beaten down. Justice put things right.
The governor invaded her thoughts and inevitably dragged them to her parents. The burning need to have her own life righted almost caused Abby to tell her friends her secret—about the hole in her life, her need for justice, and what drove her at a personal level. They’d understand, especially Jessica. But she hesitated.
“‘When justice is done, it brings joy to the righteous,’” she said after she swallowed. “That’s in Proverbs somewhere. People who suffered the worst kind of wrong deserve a little joy.”
They toasted, Abby with her Diet Coke and the others with water.
“So who was your witness?” Megan asked.
“What?”
“You said you had a witness who helped you decide on the jockey. Who helped?”
“A PI named Luke Murphy.”
“Get out!” Jessica dropped her food back on her plate. “Mr. Hottie to the max?”
Abby grimaced but Megan chimed in.
“He is beyond hot! Oh, my goodness, if I weren’t married . . .”
“Listen to you two. You sound like you’re still in high school.” Abby dished out some more noodles, irritation returning with the subject of Murphy.
“Come on, you’re not married yet. And Ethan is hot in his own way, and he did send flowers,” Jessica said with a shrug.
“Thanks.” Abby looked down her nose at them and they laughed.
“When does he get back?”
“Two weeks. I miss him; I’m ready for him to be home.”
“You didn’t say that with much conviction.” Megan tilted her head. “Is he still having a hard time with your job?”
Abby sat back, full now and relaxed. “I do miss him. But yeah, we had another argument. He really doesn’t like me working homicide.”
“Ah, sweetie, has he asked you to quit?”
“Well, not bluntly, but he’s moving that way.”
“I thought he was proud of the work you did,” Jessica said.
“He was, six months ago. We need to have a good talk, not a Skype talk.”
Megan began closing food containers. “He’s a reasonable guy. I know you two can work it out.”
Abby nodded, wondering why the subject of Ethan brought Murphy to her mind. The rest of the conversation centered on Ethan and missions in general. She couldn’t wait to see Ethan, but she kept thinking of Murphy.
FRIDAY MORNING the station buzzed with excitement over the—what was now plural—granny murders case and the impend
ing visit by the governor. Abby received kudos from several coworkers as she walked in, and it served to lift her spirits.
“When justice is done, it brings joy to the righteous.”
Bill was at his desk when she stepped into the office. He’d called her the night before, as she was climbing into bed after Megan and Jessica left, and gushed about the successful search warrant, giving her the high points.
“We found loss from the first burglary and black gloves like the type Luke thought he saw on the suspect. There are other items here that I wonder about; maybe they came from the second victim. This guy is toast!”
His excitement had actually made her smile. He’d reminded her of her first partner after she was off probation on graveyard patrol. A good-natured guy, Ty Wagner took a lot of ribbing because he had one of those forever-youthful faces; his nickname was Doogie. But he was a good partner and he made coming to work interesting.
Abby realized she’d been so stressed struggling with Asa at the end of their partnership, she’d forgotten what it was like to have a partner who pulled his weight.
“Good morning,” she said as she set her bag down and headed for coffee.
He smiled and pointed to her desk. “I put a copy of the search warrant findings there for you.”
“Thanks. I look forward to reading it.”
Once she settled in with her coffee and read the entire report, she acknowledged Roper was right—the findings were great news. There were some expensive-looking items that couldn’t be placed, but they could be from the Murray household.
She said to Roper, “I’d like to be able to show the governor these pictures and ask if he recognizes anything.” The case didn’t hinge on his identification of loss, but it would strengthen it and give her a chance for some face time.
“Ditto,” Roper agreed.
The phone rang and Abby frowned; it was a reporter from channel two. “They’re starting early,” she muttered.
Roper laughed. “It’s been ringing since I got here. I answered one and they told me about a video of you making the rounds.”
That got Abby’s attention. “What? They’re calling about that?”
“Yep, they’re wanting to know about the guy you saved.” He grinned.
“It wasn’t that big a deal.” She wished she’d brought out her laptop and viewed the thing last night.
“It was close, though.”
She wondered if this was going to be more trouble for her than she’d thought.
“Heads up.” Lieutenant Jacoby strode into the office. “Press conference is set for 1 p.m. Rollins arrived last night and will give a statement.”
“Can I be at lunch for the conference but still have a request for the governor?” Abby said it jokingly, but the LT didn’t crack a smile.
“Nope, and from what I’ve seen, you like the cameras.”
It was worse than she thought. Abby groaned. “Am I in trouble for that?”
“You could have been killed.”
“I could be killed on the 405 freeway any day.” She held her hands out, palms up.
Jacoby glared. “You’re lucky the video is being shown with the caption ‘Hero cop.’ But Cox has seen it and I don’t think she’s happy you took such a risk.”
“I couldn’t have stopped short and watched him get smashed. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”
The lieutenant scowled. “I know. That’s why you’re so good at what you do. You stuck to him like superglue. But please be careful. I have no idea if Cox will weigh in on it or not.” His phone beeped, and as he took it off his belt to read the text, he left the office.
I’m not going to worry about Cox, Abby thought. There’s too much to do. She pulled out the contact list for the relatives of the previous victim. They all deserved to know the status of the investigation and not to hear it at a press conference.
WHERE IS NADINE?
Luke was stuck, so he went back to the beginning, poring over everything he knew about the girl. Nadine left home, telling her mother she was going to work to pick up her pay and then catch a ride with her best friend.
Luke’s first stop had been the recycling yard where Nadine worked. But her boss, George Sanders, had been no help at all. He’d even been noncommittal about Nadine being at work that day. Sanders should have been the last person to see her at Crunchers, but he claimed that he had not.
“Her money is gone, so she picked it up.” He tapped his fists together. “That’s all I know. I didn’t see her. We were busy.”
When Luke pressed, Sanders got angry. “She’s just a wild kid. She’ll come home when she’s good and ready. Her mother is wasting money by hiring you.” He’d slammed the door in Luke’s face.
Crunchers was not far from Destination X. If Nadine had swung by Crunchers, picked up her pay, and run away, Destination X was not out of the realm of possibility as a stopping point. But running away to the west side of Long Beach from the east side, where Nadine lived, made no sense, unless drugs were involved. Luke was certain drugs were not Nadine’s problem. She didn’t have a boyfriend, and Luke had spoken to anyone and everyone who considered her a friend.
Crunchers—and Sanders—always seemed to be under criminal investigation for something or other. Nadine only worked there because Janey Sanders was her best friend and the two were always there together. The day Nadine disappeared, Janey had arrived late, and she was no more help than her father, but she was a lot more concerned. She cried and tried to help, but her stepdad forbade Luke from dragging her into the investigation. Sanders was a gruff, blunt businessman Luke would never trust.
“He’s shady.” Tears had spilled down Glynnis Hoover’s face the last time they spoke. “I never should have let her work there.”
“Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Don’t blame yourself, Glyn. It wastes energy that we need to use to find her,” he told her.
When he went back to the beginning, Crunchers smacked him between the eyes. Something happened there; something made her run. If Nadine hadn’t texted her mother that she was fine and she’d call after a while, the police would have been all over the recycling yard.
Luke felt like banging his head against the wall. Right now it would be as productive as anything else. He rubbed his tired eyes, then checked his watch. Madison would be through with her morning lessons. Every time he talked with Glynnis and endured her grief, he felt an overwhelming desire to see, touch, and talk to his daughter. He had time to take Maddie out to Serenity Park for some lunch. There was a hot dog vendor there that they both loved. They could spend an hour or so out there, and he’d get back in plenty of time for her afternoon session. Today was Friday, so she’d be working with the homeschool group at church in the afternoon.
At home Madison jumped for joy at the break in routine. While she changed her clothes, Luke closed his files. He didn’t want work to overshadow time with his daughter.
Serenity Park was a beautiful, grass-covered portion of a jetty. To Luke, it was also a memorial park.
Luke picked up a picture of the old restaurant he kept at his desk, a picture of his uncle Luke with Buck and Patricia Morgan and Lowell Rollins. Back then Grace was a single mother and Uncle Luke was the only father figure in Luke’s life. His mother had snapped the photo a couple of weeks before the fire. Uncle Luke had just received a top cooking award, and the group was all smiles with a gorgeous blue ocean spreading out behind them.
The restaurant was in the background off to the right, and it was a very stylish place in its day. The fire was believed to have been set to cover up a robbery/homicide. Lowell Rollins, who’d been in Sacramento at the time of the tragedy, became the sole owner. When the smoke settled and the police released the scene to be cleaned up, Rollins didn’t want the parcel of land redeveloped, so for a few years the lot stood barren. Rollins became a city councilman and began a campaign to turn the area into a park. Eventually he was successful.
Five years after the tragic fire, the entire area
—parking lot and all—was graded and seeded, and now a beautiful park spread out to the edge of the jetty with the appearance of an infinity lawn. A small plaque commemorated the three people who’d died in the fire.
Buck and Patricia were killed by gunfire before the flames charred their remains, while Luke’s uncle died of smoke inhalation later in the hospital.
Any evidence was long gone, but Luke often found his jogging path took him to Serenity Park, or he and Madison would be out there flying kites on Saturdays. He prayed out there, for Big Luke and the Morgans, that someday he’d find justice for them all. His uncle’s loss still cut deep, and the name Lowell Rollins reminded him how badly he wanted the case solved.
But today he and his daughter would eat hot dogs and enjoy the park. Today his prayers would be for Nadine, that soon he’d find her and bring her home.
WALTER GUNTHER was leaning against a parking structure pylon when Abby pulled into a space after lunch. She realized he was waiting for her when he gave her a mock salute. A cigarette hung from his mouth, and he looked rumpled and irritated.
That’s what I get for being predictable about where I park, she thought.
“This could be construed as stalking,” Abby said as she grabbed her bag and shut the car door.
“Wouldn’t have to hang around in the shadows if you’d return my phone calls.”
Abby stopped. She should have checked her voice mail and called him back. Gunther had never done her a wrong turn.
“Sorry; it’s been hectic.” She waved a hand toward the gathering crowd of press and onlookers in front of the podium outside the station’s front door. “Not much I can tell you; you’ll have to watch the flea circus.”
Gunther dropped the cigarette and ground it out with the toe of his shoe. “I plan to. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. I had a question about the Dan Jenkins murder.”
Abby arched her eyebrows. “Jenkins?”
Gunther nodded. “I liked him; he was a good guy. Have you made any headway on his case? I live in what would have been his council district. His loss is huge to my neighborhood.”
Drawing Fire Page 9