The Awakening (The Judas Curse Book 1)

by Angella Graff

  “What gave you that idea?” she asked, sounding a little confused.

  “Your parting words to me were something along the lines of, ‘I’m forced to take time out of my busy case load to help you, go die in a fire.’ Or something like that.”

  There was a moment of silence on the other end. “Did I really tell you to die in a fire?”

  Ben laughed. “Okay maybe not those exact words.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said in a rush. “It’s been a really difficult week, and while you were outside, my boss called and I got chewed out, so I may not have been in the best mood when we parted ways.”

  “It’s fine,” Ben said. “In fact, I think I have a lead on the case and might not need the hospital records.”

  “Want to meet for dinner and talk it over?” she asked, and he could almost hear a wink in her voice. “My treat.”

  Ben hesitated. “I don’t know if dinner is a good idea.”

  “Don’t get any ideas,” she said playfully. “Strictly business.”

  “Fine,” Ben acquiesced. “As long as you promise not to go all split personality on me again.”

  “Deal,” she said. She then gave him directions to a small Indian restaurant she said was right around the corner from her apartment. “If you like curry, you’ll love it. Scout’s honor.”

  Ben agreed and promised to meet her there. He hung up and found himself confused by her behavior, but not really hesitant to meet her. Stella was the first person in all of that madness to offer solid, logical explanations for everything that happened.

  Greg said Stella’s personality shift was due to her being possessed by some ancient Greek god. Stella said it was because her boss had screamed at her, and being that Ben knew exactly what that felt like, and exactly what kind of mood that usually put him in, he was more inclined to believe Stella’s answer.

  The drive to the restaurant only took a few minutes and he soon pulled in to a rather crowded parking lot. The restaurant was in an upscale looking shopping center with several designer stores around it. There was a small crowd of people eating on the patio, and the inside was fairly busy as well.

  Through the large, floor to ceiling windows, Ben spotted the other detective seated at a table already, and she was waving him inside. Ben smiled at the hostess and quickly hurried over, taking a seat in the opposite side of the booth.

  “How are you?” she asked as he got settled.

  “Fair to middling,” he answered honestly. He looked at her and was surprised to see her dressed casually, in a long, black skirt and loose fitting sweater. Her hair was down, curly from the bun she’d kept it in all day, and her work make-up had been washed off. She looked very nice, Ben realized, and quickly tried to stamp his attraction down. Regardless of how flirty she seemed to be, there was no way Ben could cross that line.

  “Fair to middling calls for a couple of martinis,” she replied while he shrugged off his jacket and threw it to the side. A server came over and Stella quickly ordered. “Two gin martinis, dirty, two olives, and we’ll start with the samosas.”

  Ben didn’t mind her taking control of the order, and perused the menu while she rattled on her favorite dishes. Eventually he settled on some extra spicy lamb curry and before long, they were picking away at their appetizers and making small talk.

  “It’s not so bad here, though a lot of my detectives can be a huge pain in the ass,” Stella said as she spun her speared olive around her drink. “It’s difficult being a woman in power with this job. It requires them to respect someone they feel is naturally inferior and I get a lot of push back.”

  “Is that why you took over the case?” Ben asked as he nibbled on the edge of his samosa.

  Stella snorted a laugh and shook her head. “I took over the case because those two were a couple of bumbling idiots with the maturity level of middle-schoolers. They were screwing up left and right, and I was about to lose control of the case. I realize it’s just one missing person, but that missing person may help unlock something in a rather large homicide case, and they didn’t seem to want to listen to that reason.”

  “They were looking for notoriety by taking down a seasoned detective, or proving he had a hand in some crime,” Ben said with a shrug. “I see it all the time. It’s a first for me, personally, but I had a guy working under me who went after our chief. Needless to say, it didn’t end well.”

  Stella let out a small laugh. “I can imagine not. Anyway, I do love the job, and I love San Diego. I grew up in Arizona, so being costal, and on the edge of a rather pleasant beach is a nice change.”

  Ben quirked an eyebrow. “Arizona, interesting. Never pinned you as a Zonie.”

  Stella rolled her eyes and pushed the empty appetizer plate away. “I haven’t heard that term in ages. I’ve lived here twelve years, I think I’ve earned my California badge.”

  “I guess,” Ben said with a smile. They ordered a couple more drinks as the food arrived, and for the first time in weeks, Ben found himself actually enjoying a meal and a conversation with someone.

  “Married?” Stella asked as the server took away their entrée plates and set down two small bowls of the restaurant’s famous almond kulfi.

  Ben took a small taste of the ice cream and gave her a wry smile. “No, never been. Engaged once, but it didn’t work out well.”

  “Let me guess, she cheated?”

  “Luckily she left before that, but I think if I’d pushed her to hang on any longer she would have,” Ben said. “We met in college, you know, couple of stupid kids thinking we were so grown up. As time went by, we both did grow up, but we also grew into people who didn’t fit together anymore.”

  “So, not bitter,” she said with a small smile.

  “Not often, but I have my moments. I’m a homicide detective, after all,” he finished with a laugh. “You?”

  “Married twice.”

  “Cheaters,” Ben said. “I’m clever,” he replied when she looked mildly surprised.

  “Married right out of high school, lasted two years. Married the second time when I was twenty-five, and he was a serial cheater.”

  “Bitter?”

  “Not after I had him arrested for credit card fraud,” she said with a laugh.

  “Wow,” Ben replied. “You’re scary.”

  “I can be,” she said with a shrug. “You caught a small glimpse of my ugly side. Which I’m sorry about, by the way.”

  “No apology necessary. I can’t tell you what a hell week I’ve had, so you getting a little bitchy didn’t bother me at all.”

  Stella nodded and stared at him for a moment. “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not particularly, no,” Ben said, and when Stella looked a little hurt, he continued. “It’s nothing against you. In fact, if I actually felt like sharing this insane week with anyone, I’d probably tell you. You’re the first person to approach me with any sense of reason in a long time. There’s just a lot I’m trying to sort out.”

  She raised her hands in gentle surrender. “I get it, no worries.”

  “This ice cream is fantastic by the way,” Ben said as he scooped the last of it onto his spoon. “I may have to drive down here simply to eat here.”

  Stella laughed. “I know. I’m an absolute addict.”

  The pair of them locked eyes long enough to make Ben uncomfortable and he quickly cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So, this professional dinner…”

  “We failed, I know,” she said with a half-smile. “I think we both needed the break.”

  “I do have to get back home with some sort of possible lead, though,” Ben said. “Mind giving me a hand with it?”

  “I’m happy to,” Stella said. “What do you have?”

  Ben reached into his inside jacket pocket and passed his small notebook over to Stella. “There’s a guy who used to work at the hospital in housekeeping. I have a witness who says he was acting strangely the night before he just stopped showing up to work. Human resources fire
d him as a no-call no-show, and had a cop sent over for welfare check, but he wasn’t home. I’d like to get some sort of address and possible family members on this guy.”

  “Shawn Thompson,” Stella said, reading over the notes. “And your witness was this Nancy Wilson?”

  “Yes,” Ben said with a shrug. “She said the last time she saw him happened to be right outside of John Doe’s room, and at that time, Wilson was acting really strangely. Staring off into space, claiming that there were people after him. He’s the person who had the most consistent contact with John Doe aside from the doctor and nursing staff.”

  Stella nodded and closed the notebook. “Mind if I keep this? I’ll run his name first thing in the morning, and if you want, you can meet me down at the station in case we get a positive hit.”

  “Sounds good,” Ben said. He stifled a huge yawn, and realized that what he really wanted was a good, long night’s sleep.

  Stella seemed to be thinking along the same lines, and as promised, paid the bill for the two of them and then led the way outside.

  “Is it a feminist thing?” Ben asked as the pair stood in the parking lot.

  “What?” she asked, her dark brows knotted into a deep frown.

  “Paying for dinner. Is it the whole, I can do anything a man can do, thing?”

  She laughed and wobbled her hand a few times. “Maybe a little. I just don’t think there’s anything wrong with a woman treating every now and again.”

  “Hey, you’re not hearing me complain,” Ben said and shoved his hands into his pockets. “But next time, dinner’s on me.”

  “How about an obscenely expensive cup of coffee in the morning, and an everything bagel with cream cheese?” she counter-offered.

  Ben smiled and stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

  She grabbed it and squeezed lightly, their fingers touching for longer than necessary. When she pulled away, she pulled away slowly and smiled very softly. “Thanks for the great convo.”

  “Thanks for the awesome logic,” Ben said.

  There was a pregnant pause, the moment of hesitation where Ben knew that if it had been a date, this is where he’d kiss her. They weren’t on a date, however. They were colleagues, both heads of their respective departments, and he was on official business.

  Eventually, awkwardly, Ben gave a little nod and then started towards his car. He walked backwards a few steps, as did Stella, and they exchanged one last, awkward wave before he got into his car and turned it on.

  The heater was on full blast, which felt great as he quickly sped down the road, and he found himself actually smiling. Despite the situation, and everything going on, Ben had a feeling that he could actually like that girl.

  Thirty-Three

  As unfamiliar as Ben was with the city, he managed to find the place reputed to have San Diego’s best tasting espresso drinks, and ordered two of their house specials; espresso with soy milk, caramel and cinnamon. He threw in a couple dozen of their bakery’s fresh bagels and headed off to the San Diego station where Stella had already clocked in for the day.

  Ben had been at the San Diego station several times, and was familiar enough with the officers inside to receive a sort of stilted greeting from a few who found him cold and a little hard to converse with. Ben wasn’t in a hurry to change that first impression, and only met the officers with a terse hello, and head nod as he made his way back to Stella’s office.

  Through her tall windows, he saw her sitting behind her desk, her corded phone pressed to her ear and she was chatting away. She saw him through the open blinds and waved him inside as he wiggled the cup of coffee in the air.

  “Look, I don’t really have time to do this with you right now, but I’ll be in touch if I hear anything. I’m an officer, not a magician, and as sympathetic as I am to your case, this isn’t some televised crime show. I’m an actual detective with the actual police, and not every crime is solved by a drop of blood or semen at the crime scene.”

  Ben snorted and Stella rolled her eyes as he took a seat and let her finish up the call. The smell of the fresh baked bagels soon filled the room and as Stella listened to the ranting voice on the other end of the phone, her eyes snapped to the large paper bags Ben had brought in.

  “I don’t care who you report me to, the point is, I can’t magic evidence out of thin air. We’ve followed up on every single one of your leads, and several others that were brought to us, and he’s still missing. You might want to consider the fact that you’re very unpleasant and maybe he just packed up and left no trace because he didn’t want you to find him. I’ll be in touch,” she finished and slammed the phone down.

  Ben chuckled as Stella groaned and dropped her face into her hands. “Already that kind of morning?”

  “About to get better if those bagels are as fresh as they smell,” she said, her voice muffled by her hands.

  “Haven’t tried them but they looked fantastic,” Ben said. He fished one of the everything bagels out of the bag and shoved it towards her with one of the tubs of cream cheese.

  With a happy sigh, Stella began dressing her bagel liberally. “This more than makes up for dinner.”

  “So you owe me? I’ll remember that,” Ben said with a wink.

  Stella rolled her eyes and took a long drink of her coffee. “Not bad, Stanford. Not bad at all.”

  “So any luck with my guy?” Ben asked after the two of them munched on a little bit of the breakfast.

  “Mmm,” Stella replied, her mouth full. She pushed a piece of paper across the desk and washed down her bite with her drink. “Not much, just a couple of speeding tickets several years ago. His address is listed as owned by one Diana Thompson, his mother, who still lives there. We called but there was only a machine. Probably worth it to stop by and check, though. He wasn’t reported missing at any point, so it’s possible she knows where he is.”

  “Excellent,” Ben said. “I really think I’m going with my gut on this one, since all of the other leads I have are a little...” Ben trailed off and shook his head, not wanting to even approach that subject with the other detective. “Let’s just say they’re pointless.”

  “Bit like my entire day,” Stella said as she finished off her breakfast. “I have a massive caseload that I’m falling behind on, so I’m not going to be able to stick on this case all day, but I’ll head out with you to the mother’s house if you like.”

  “We should probably look up a place of employment for her, in case she’s not home,” Ben said.

  “Way ahead of you,” she replied and shoved another sheet of paper at him. “She was at one point on probation for aggravated DUI. She was working for this insurance agency at the time and though they attempted to terminate her employment with them, her probation officer filed an appeal since part of her probation terms were to maintain a regular job. When I called there this morning, she wasn’t in, but they did confirm she was still employed. If she’s not home, it’s worth a look at her office.”

  “I’ll drive,” Ben said and grabbed his coffee. Within minutes, the pair were out the door and seated in the sporty rental car, Ben at the wheel.

  “Not bad, Stanford. You get to pick it?”

  Ben smirked and shook his head. “No, but I didn’t complain.” With that, he fired up the engine, and following Stella’s directions, pulled in front of a split level, house about thirty minutes later.

  It was older property near Mission Blvd, the wood on the outside cracked and worn from the constant moisture in the air and the heavy salt that came with living so close to the ocean. It was at one time a vibrant yellow, though now only patches of the paint remained on the front walls.

  The door was large and encased by a heavy, black iron screen, and the front yard was decorated with cheap, wicker patio furniture and palms slowly dying in big, clay pots.

  Ben was the first at the door, and he hit the doorbell, listening to the incredibly loud chiming sounding through the house. Several moments passed before Ben hit the butto
n again.

  “How long do you usually wait?” Stella asked, tapping her foot impatiently.

  “Long enough to be annoying, in case anyone is home,” Ben said. “Then again, I’m usually after murder suspects, or their spouses, so it’s in my favor to be patient.”

  Still, after several minutes, Ben was ready to call it. It was then, however, that a short, older woman with very blonde hair approached walking a very small, very fluffy white dog on a bright pink leash.

  “Can I help you?” she asked in heavily accented English, as she opened the small gate to her walkway. She approached, the wind ruffling her light scarf she wore over her white capri pants and blue and white striped sweater. She had the look of a woman well off, but a woman who didn’t deal with it well. The red on her nose and cheeks told Ben that she definitely liked her wine, and the slight tremble of her hands told Ben she probably liked it with breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

  “Mrs. Thompson?” Ben asked, reaching for his badge.

  “Yes?”

  “My name is Detective Stanford, and this is my associate, Detective Horvath. We’re here on behalf of both the San Diego police department and the San Francisco police department.”

  The woman frowned and clutched the leash on her dog tighter. “What is this regarding?”

  “We were wondering if your son was home?” Stella cut in.

  “Which son?” Diana asked with a deep frown. “Is this about Michael again? I assure you, he’s had trouble in the past, but he’s been home at seven PM sharp every night for the last six months.”

  Stella exchanged a frown with Ben and then shook her head. “Not Michael, Mrs. Thompson. We’re here about Shawn.”

  The woman’s face then fell and she took a step back. “Shawn? Oh mon Dieu, he’s not… no. He’s not um…”

  Being familiar with a person’s face who suddenly thought they’d lost a loved one, Ben quickly cut in. “No, Mrs. Thompson, he’s not dead. We were hoping that he was home. You see, we’re investigating a case from Edgington Behavioral Health hospital and he may have witnessed something.”