by Anne Hagan
“No ma’am,” I replied. “Honestly though, I do have a little business I’d like to discuss with him.”
“He’s in today. You’re timing, as it always was, is still amazing. Just hold for me for a minute while I see what he’s gotten himself into.”
“Thanks Rosita.”
My stomach fluttered as I waited on hold. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long enough to lose my nerve. Russell Young was on the line in less than thirty seconds.
“Dana! Good to hear from you!” his deep voice boomed over the line.
“Hi Russ; congratulations! I was just reading about your big win and the indictment.”
“Not me, my girl. Our forensic guys ferreted that whole mess out. They get all the credit.”
That’s Russ and that’s why I love him. “Yes, but isn’t that the FBI’s job after all? You beat them to the chase.”
“Only because we were called in first by private interests. They get to take it from here. As it is, I don’t like that we got our name in the news at all. You know me; I like to stay off the radar.”
“Yes, totally understandable in your business.” There was a several seconds silence while I pondered how to broach my real reason for calling him.
Russ didn’t leave me twisting in the wind long. Taking over, he asked me, “I’m sure you probably didn’t call just to congratulate us. Is there something we can help you with?”
“Actually,” I drew in a breath, “I was hoping maybe I could help you. First, before you say anything, I want you to know how sorry I am about everything that happened when...when I was there, with Terri and...and everything.”
“Dana, that’s all water under the bridge. I know that wasn’t you, it was all Ms. Sweeting but, I had the firm to consider and, unfortunately, letting you go was the only viable solution at the time. I couldn’t allow her to continue doing the things she was doing. It was all about protecting my business.”
“I certainly understand that Russ. Really, I do. Still, I was blind to her and I shouldn’t have been so...so naïve. I should have seen through her.”
“Don’t blame yourself. She’s a con-artist Dana.”
“Was. She was a con-artist. She’s dead Russ. She was murdered in a mess that was not of her own making.”
He was silent for several long seconds. “I really don’t know what to say,” he finally told me.
“You don’t have to say anything. We both know where we stood with her.”
I took another deep breath and then I plunged in. “I’m not with Customs anymore. I was shot in the line of duty during a raid and I’ve been medically retired.”
He started to interrupt but I cut him back off. “I’m fine. I have some damage to my left leg that has me walking with a bit of a gimp. I didn’t want a non-investigative desk job with them so I took their retirement offer. Now I’m sort of at loose ends.”
“Are you asking to come back to work for me Dana?”
“Um, no, not exactly. Not directly, anyway. My circumstances have changed pretty drastically in the last four years. I’m married now, to a wonderful woman, and we’re living in Eastern Ohio.” I paused to let all of that sink in.
“Congratulations. I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you.” I was relieved at his genuine tone. Good old Russ...
“My parents have recently moved close to me and they’ve bought a store here that they’re operating in their semi-retirement. I help out there as needed but it’s...boring. I’m looking for something a bit more, shall we say, challenging.”
“I take it that’s where calling me comes into play?” Russ chuckled as he asked.
“Yes, thank you. Exactly. I’ve, uh, done a little side work here and there since leaving customs, pro-bono and, well, I like it. I miss investigations. I miss the research.”
“Really now? There’s something.”
“I know, I know, nobody likes the dig in the files type of grunt work but, at customs, I developed a taste for it. They just didn’t have enough of that sort of thing in my region to make a desk job for me viable. I can get around okay but a special agent for them has to be physically fit and ready to run.”
“Russ, I guess what I’m saying is, I want to try my hand at freelancing some investigations. I’ve got an Ohio concealed carry and I can get any license I’d need pretty quick. I’ve also already got an office set-up.”
“What exactly are you looking for from us? Subs?”
“You got it. If you’d be willing to throw some smaller jobs my way once in a while, especially if you get stuff in Ohio, that’d be great. Actually, I’d prefer not to travel right now, for starters.”
He was quiet on the other end of the line. I didn’t know if he was considering my request or trying to think of a way to turn me down politely. Russ was nothing if not polite and professional.
“I’m not asking for a handout Russ; just if you need something in my area, I hope you’d consider letting me take care of it for you.”
We chatted for a few more minutes and then I hung up feeling like he really was considering my proposition.
As long as Mel’s the Sheriff, we’re not going to have a lot of time together. I might as well do work that I’m good at and that I like. Mel will be okay with it. Between jobs, I can still write. Mama will probably get bent out of shape but she never has to be the wiser.
Chapter 3 – Breaking Loose
Mel
5:00 AM Monday Morning, February 9th
Muskingum County Sheriff’s Department
I stumbled into the office to deal with the usual Monday paperwork as quickly as I could and then I was headed back out to the street. All hell was breaking loose out there. It seemed like it started as soon as I went off shift at 6:00 on Sunday. By midnight, on a couple of hours of sleep, I was back in uniform and working patrol to answer call after call.
My assistant and friend, Sergeant Holly Burke, was already at her desk when I strode in.
“Is it a full moon out there or what?” she asked me.
“I don’t have a clue.” I shook my head as I told her, “It’s dark, it’s cold, it’s miserable and for some reason we have a crime wave going on and gang warfare on the streets. We’ve been working calls about biker’s – biker’s in February, mind you – run amok all night but now all of the rest of the criminal element in the city seems to be feeding off of whatever is fueling the whole mess.”
I took a deep breath. “Zanesville PD is on high alert now too. If this keeps up, that should at least take some of the pressure off.”
“Should I do my snow dance? That’ll settle ‘em down.”
“It’s worth a shot.”
“For your sake, I hope it dies down soon. You need a break.”
###
1:00 PM Monday
“Mel, your mother-in-law is on line one. It’s the third time she’s called.”
“I’ll take it.” I clicked off with Holly and punched line one.
“Hi Chloe. I’m sorry but I’m really busy today. I just got back into the office and I only have a minute. How can I help you?” My attempt to pre-empt an attack of small talk or of me didn’t work.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning Mel. When I could get through at all, I was told you were out of the office. When I called your cell, you never answered. What if it was an emergency and I had to get hold of you?”
“Is it an emergency?”
“Well no; but that’s not the point.”
“I apologize Chloe. Is there something you need?”
“What I need is for you to be a little more attentive to Dana. You’re never home and, even when you are, you never seem to have time for her.”
“Did Dana say that?”
“No, not in so many words, but a mother knows these things. Do I need to remind you that Valentine's Day is coming up? You’ve been so busy lately, I thought you might have forgotten about it. I just know it would mean a lot to her if you did something really special for
your wife.”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t forget. I’m working on a few ideas.”
“Like what? There’s not a lot of time left, you know. Things book up.”
Trapped... “I’m trying to get us reservations somewhere special.” I’d done no such thing but she didn’t need to know that, I still had time, after all.
“Dana adores Adornetto’s and they’re running a Valentines special there if you can’t tear yourself too far away. Of course, if you can get away for an evening or even the whole weekend, there are lots of things that you could do in Columbus. I just read about this one place that does dinner and night flights for couples over the city. They love gay couples in Columbus and...”
“Chloe, I’m sorry but I really have to go. We’ll do something great, I promise.”
Holly found me sitting with my head in my hands. She leaned against the doorframe as she asked, “Rough day, huh boss?”
“If only it was just the crime wave. Chloe just unloaded on me. She thinks I’m neglecting Dana and she wanted to make sure I didn’t forget Valentine’s Day.”
Holly’s eyebrows rose. “What does Dana think?”
“Dana understands what she’s gotten into with me and with this job.”
“Does she?”
I nodded. “Sure she does. She’s been right there in the mix a couple of times with me...with us; you know that. Still, Chloe’s partly right. I could be a little more...I don’t know, attentive? Is that the word I’m looking for?”
“Attentive, yeah, or how about romantic?”
I pulled a face. “The romance stuff just isn’t me. It’s like a whole other language to me.”
“You really never had a serious relationship before you met Dana, did you?”
“No.”
“Mel, don’t take this wrong, okay? You’re a woman yes, but you’ve always thought more like a man. Since I’ve known you, you’ve never been girly or liked girly things.”
“True. You’re right.”
“Dana’s a tomboy but she likes girly stuff too. Remember how she reacted when you got her that bracelet and when you got Boo back?”
I nodded.
“She seems to like romantic gestures like that. That’s what you should aim for. It doesn’t have to be big and fancy. It will mean the most to her if it’s from your heart.”
###
3:30 PM Monday
I took a call down in Philo that thankfully turned out to be routine. We were having a mini-February heat wave. The temps had climbed into the upper 40’s and the calls had been off the hook. I had more people in getting overtime than I had on regular, scheduled patrol.
By the time I climbed back into my county SUV, the radio was mercifully quiet. I hoped that meant whatever craziness had swept through the county was finally dying down.
After a minute of thought, since I was already well south of town, when I crossed the Muskingum in Duncan Falls, I headed east instead of West. I was only fifteen minutes from the farm.
As much as I now knew I’d been neglecting Dana, I was even more aware I hadn’t spent more than a few minutes with my parents, here and there, since Christmas. Dad’s health hadn’t been the best lately and I felt guilty for not checking in on him and for not being out there to help with all of the usual winter chores.
Thank heaven it’s been a mild winter and thank heaven for Cole. He’s such a big help...
Turning into the drive, I didn’t have far to go to find my dad. He was in the lower field putting out salt blocks for the livestock.
I stopped my county SUV on the driveway and got out into the sunshine and warmth of what should have been a cold, snowy day.
“Hey there,” my dad, a man of few words, called out.
“Hi Dad. How are you?” I stopped at the fence. Climbing over in a gun belt didn’t sound like a good idea if it wasn’t necessary.
He nodded, indicating he was okay. I wasn’t going to get a soliloquy out of him anyway. “Haven’t seen you for a while. I just thought I’d stop over and see if you needed anything.”
“Naw. Got everything I need.”
Dad didn’t like asking for help or taking help from anyone but he’d be the first one to offer help where he saw a need. That’s just the way it is with him.
“Your ma says the scanner’s been going all day.”
I grinned. My mother had her nose in everything. She’d had a police scanner ever since I’d joined the force. “It’s been a busy one. Must be these warm temperatures.”
Dad mounted his quad, fired it up and steered it over toward the fence. When he reached me, he asked, “Are you coming up to the house?”
I shook my head no. “I really should head back into town but I think I’m just going to head home. I’m whipped. It seems like things have settled down a little.”
“You need to take it easy. Let your deputies do the work. That’s why you have ‘em.”
“I know but it’s hard for me to ask them to do things I’m not willing to do myself.”
He just shrugged.
A thought occurred to me. “You know Valentine’s Day is coming up.”
Dad tipped his head at me like Boo does when me or Dana talks to her.
“Are you doing anything special for mom this year?” I’d never really paid any attention to whether or not my parents celebrated the holiday but mom always seemed happy. Her world revolved around Dad and the farm.
“She don’t go for no fancy stuff. I just get her flowers and maybe a card.”
“Oh. She likes that?”
“Just what are you fishing for?”
“Honestly? I’m kind of stuck on what I should do for Dana. I figured maybe you’d have some wisdom for me.”
“Women like anything you do for them.”
Right, okay. So much for help from my only male role model.
Chapter 4 – Warfare
Mel
Monday Evening, February 9th, 2014
“On my way but my ETA is going to be about 30 minutes.” I put down the dish towel I was holding and looked at Dana who was rinsing the last of the silverware.
“I’m so sorry babe. The last 36 hours have been off the charts and, just when I thought it was over, it starts again. Now they’re smashing shop windows and looting in downtown Zanesville.”
“Looting?”
I spread my hands. “I don’t know what’s going on but if I don’t get back out there, I’m never going to be able to figure it out.”
I rolled slowly through town, my broadcast PA turned on. Darkness was now falling but, here and there, windows were smashed and debris was everywhere. The culprits had struck in daylight, just after everything closed, up and down Main Street.
My cruisers were scattered here and there and Zanesville PD had an even heavier presence but that wasn’t stopping the opportunists from running store to store, taking what they could from what hadn’t already been taken that had any value at all.
Shane Harding’s personal vehicle was parked at the curb a block ahead of me, it’s portable blue light flashing. He was standing at the corner, under a still working street light, notebook in hand, speaking with an older man. I pulled over and parked behind him.
“Sheriff,” he said by way of greeting. “This is Mr. Jenkins. He owns the tobacco shop.” Shane tipped his head toward the small storefront at the corner with shattered windows and a door hanging only from its bottom hinge.
“What’s left of it, which isn’t much!” Jenkins said.
“He says he’d locked up for the evening but he was in the back working on taxes when a bunch of bikes rumbled into town.”
“They shot out my windows. I barricaded myself in the back but nobody came back there. They just took all the cigarettes they could carry and they moved on. I called 911 and then I stood up front with a bat to keep anyone else from taking what wasn’t theirs to take. I work hard and barely get by! They all just want something for nothing!”
“You really should have stayed
in your office, Mr. Jenkins. You could have been seriously hurt or even killed.”
“And let them take everything? You’re crazier than I am if you think I would let them do that! My insurance will pay for the windows. I won’t get a dime for my inventory.”
“Since you came out here,” Shane asked, “did you get a look at anybody?”
“Motorcycles...men on motorcycles. That’s all I can tell you.”
My radio leapt to life. “Shots fired, man down, 500 block of East Elm. Any units in the vicinity please respond.”
I shot a look at Shane. “That’s about a mile north of here.”
“I got this Sheriff. Go.”
Before I could even key my mike, a female voice came over the airwaves, “Unit twelve responding.” I’d forgotten that Mason had taken a patrol shift today. I keyed in too, “Unit one responding.”
I hopped back in my SUV and ran lights and sirens to the scene. As I drove, both motorcycles and low riding sedans drove past me, fleeing in the opposite direction. A lone Zanesville PD cruiser was giving chase to the last in the lot.
Turning the last corner, I found bedlam. Mason was jumping out of her cruiser and Deputy Gates was kneeling, working on a man who’d obviously been shot. Meanwhile, two Zanesville PD officers were wrestling with a man sporting a motorcycle vest with the ‘Z’ logo of our local outlaw biker group, the ‘Z Renegades’. A bike, presumably his, lay on the ground, running. Elsewhere in the area was total destruction. Windows were smashed, doors were splintered, trash was everywhere and two cars were burning further along the road.
PD seemed to be getting their quarry under control so I hustled over to Mason and Gates. Relief flooded my face as I realized the middle aged man on the ground, though obviously shot and bleeding from his left hip, was alive and alert. “What do we have.”
“We’ve got gang war bedlam Sheriff.” Indicating the man on the ground, Gates continued, “He’s all victim; just in the wrong place at the wrong time. A squad is on the way.”
Directing my question at the man, I asked, “Do you know who shot you?”
He shook his head no. “Never saw them before.”