by Terri Nolan
“I’d choose you over sleep any day. What’s on your mind?”
“I’m wondering how long you’re going to stick around.”
Ron sniggered. “Seriously? You doubt me?”
“I’ve been thinking about Thom and Anne. The core of their problem is lack of intimacy.”
“Is that what you’re worried about? Because we aren’t having sex, I’m going to fall out of love with you or screw some barrack babe?”
“It can happen. You have physical needs.”
“One day, we’ll be together again and we’ll satisfy each other’s needs. Meanwhile, I have a hand and an active imagination. It’s not like you to feel insecure. What’s going on?”
“I like the way you say we. Like, it’s not my problem, it’s our problem.”
“Babe? Answer the question.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong.”
That wasn’t true. She did feel insecure of the relationship and worried that it wouldn’t survive the confrontation with Matt. Birdie felt tears welling. She loved Matt completely and he left her. She loved Ron completely and was afraid he’d leave, too.
“I’m not going to quit you.”
“Even distance and a phone signal can’t stop you from knowing what I need to hear.”
“It’s true.”
“What if I quit you?”
Silence.
Finally Ron said, “What’s worse, to have loved and lost, or not to have loved at all?”
“Cliché, but okay.”
“I can’t afford to worry about that. You hold my heart in your hands and there are but two choices. You’ll nurture it or you’ll squash it.”
“You give me too much power.”
“You think?” said Ron. “I have no other view. I’m an over-eager puppy around you and you’re the jaded mother hound that puts me in my place.”
“Do I really? That’s so sad.”
“You laid out the rules of our relationship that first day I spent with you. Nothing has changed since then.”
“A lot has changed.”
“Not really, no. The essence is the same. You have an agenda I don’t agree with, but my opinion be damned.”
“Please … let’s not go there.”
“Alright. But be honest with yourself and admit one thing. You’re feeling mopey because you’re torn about the decision you’ll have to make one day. Because he is the only thing that stands between us and you know I’m not going to share. I won’t do a threesome.”
“Ron …”
“Don’t say anything, Birdie. I’m not asking for an answer. Just be honest with yourself. Someday you’re going to take a trip. You’ll either come back or you won’t. Then I’ll truly know where I stand.”
“You know I love you.”
“I don’t doubt it. Birdie Keane is not the kind of woman to say a thing she doesn’t believe. But you’ll have to decide who you love more.”
“It’s not fair.”
“What the fu—? Never mind. This conversation took a wrong turn.”
“Don’t hold back.”
“Look, baby, I’m glad you called, but let’s hang up now. We both need some good sleep. I know you’re afraid to take the meds, but cut one of the sleeping pills in half. Just to take the edge off. Put your head on the pillow and rest easy for a change. Okay?”
“Okay. Goodnight, Ron.”
“Goodnight, Birdie. Sleep tight.”
As soon as the call disconnected, she burst into tears. Suddenly, Thom’s case lost all importance. She did have work to do. All the colliding thoughts and theories and schemes no longer mattered. She needed to focus her energies on herself.
Tomorrow.
Right now, she’d stay in the tub until the water turned cold.
Then she’d take Ron’s advice and swallow half of a pill.
She’d go to sleep and dream about making love with Ron.
And then tomorrow everything would be different.
Tomorrow.
forty-three
Wednesday, May 16
Thom knocked on Birdie’s bedroom door.
“Come in.” She sat up, stretched, checked the clock. Six-fifteen.
Thom entered the room with a cup of coffee and placed it on her nightstand. Gave her a good morning peck on the lips, sat on the edge of the bed. He was dressed in jeans and, despite being out on personal, still wore his firearm and handcuffs. Habits die hard.
“Coffee. Such service. Thanks.”
“Sleep good?”
“Great. I took half a pill. You?”
“Naw. I got a couple hours on the couch. I worked on the case most of the night.”
“Any development?”
“George called. He’s on his way. Bringing breakfast burritos. Want to sit in?”
“Yeah.”
What happened to taking care of Birdie? It’s tomorrow.
_____
“He said, ‘It’s going to be nice working with a two again,’” said George. “It was practically the first thing he said to me.”
“What an ass,” said Thom.
“I don’t get it,” said Birdie.
“It was a slight,” said Thom. “Seymour is a D-three, I’m a D-three. George is a new D-three.”
“It was his way of putting me in my place as if I were a rookie,” added George.
“Rookies don’t work in RHD,” said Birdie.
“Thank you. Someone who appreciates my worth.”
Breakfast over and yet the three of them were still at the breakfast table in the glassed kitchen nook. Birdie stared out the leaded glass windows at the malaise that is Southern California’s annual May Gray. This year’s season has been especially heavy. Angelenos haven’t seen the sun in over a week because the onshore flow was so strong. The sunless depression began to wear on her.
“This room is cold,” said Birdie. “Let’s move to the living room and light a fire. I’m sick of this weather.”
“I’m with you,” said George. “I’ll bring the coffee service.”
Thom and Birdie went ahead to the living room.
“He’s so agreeable this morning,” said Birdie.
“Like I said, he got laid,” whispered Thom.
“You going to ask him about her?” said Birdie.
“Hell, no. He’s very private about stuff like that. He’ll joke occasionally, but he never tells. He’s never even admitted to having sex with you and you guys dated … what?”
“Six months.”
“Point made.”
Birdie opened the flue and used the gas lighter to start the blaze. Ron had laid the fire the week before last. He always had one ready. In Ron’s Oceanside Craftsman he had a two-sided fireplace made of river rock in the middle of the great room. There was always a fire at the ready. This past winter they enjoyed them often. Fires were nice, but she was looking forward to sunshine and summer heat. That would be August through October, once they got past the May Gray and then the June Gloom. She curled up in the chair.
George carried in the coffee service and placed the tray on the coffee table. He poured for Birdie first, then Thom, then himself.
“Labs came back,” said George. “The pubic hair in the blood belonged to Dominic. The bullet lodged in his kidney was a twenty-two. Dominic was not the father of Rachel’s baby.”
Thom spread his fingers. “What’s the punch line? We didn’t need labs to tell us that.”
“Okay, how’s this?” said George, “The owner of the cigarette butt left at the Deats crime scene was a paternal match for Rachael’s baby.”
Thom and Birdie exchanged glances of possibility. Todd Moysychyn?
Thom gave George a small envelope. “I collected that last night.”
George looked inside. “A c
igarette butt.”
“I witnessed the smoker discard it. He was on his own private property and would have a legitimate expectation of privacy considering I had to go through a locked gate to get in. It was still smoldering when I picked it up.”
“You get permission?”
“Of course not. I’m on leave. I was a private citizen when I picked it up off the ground. He didn’t know I was a cop. In fact, I was never asked what I did for a living.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Birdie. “We never had the what do you do for a living conversation.”
“You were there?” said George.
“Yes. I told you Thom and I were going out. He was my date.”
“Who does this belong to?”
“I can’t tell you that,” said Thom.
“Do you think he’s our killer?”
“Hard to tell. Birdie?”
“Fifty-fifty.”
George leaned away from Thom as though he had cooties. “This was illegally obtained. How am I going to get this in without a case number? Even if it was determined to be a match, it’d taint the prosecution.”
“You keep forgetting that the case is already tainted. Craig saw to that when he wouldn’t release me after I told him I was compromised. Now it’s a serial. He’s the screw-up here.” Thom pointed at the envelope. “Find a work around and submit it. See what shakes out.”
George nodded and slipped it into his portfolio. “Speaking of which …” He handed Thom a CD.
“What’s this?”
“That’s Craig telling you about the IA.”
Thom’s brows raised in confusion.
“Remember showing Craig the murder book?” said George. “The war room was being used so we ducked into an interview room? When Craig asked me to leave I thought … well, I went to the monitor room and recorded it.”
“You’ve had this for two days and said nothing?” The carotid artery pulsed in Thom’s neck. His face turned red.
“It was my moral dilemma. I wanted to protect you, but I didn’t want you to know I invaded your privacy.”
Thom jumped up and aimed straight for George’s face. George held up his hands in defense, but Thom shoved them away and planted a big kiss on George lips. “I love you, partner. This is going to save my ass!”
“George is blushing,” said Birdie.
“This gives me the leverage I need,” said Thom. “Thank you.”
“Alright,” said George. “Might as well take these as well.” He gave Thom three more CDs. “Interviews. I’ve been forbidden from telling you about them. But there must be a reason there’s a duplicating tower in the monitor room, yes?”
“Did Jelena and Kidd get a glimpse of each other beforehand?”
“Unfortunately not. The choreography wasn’t timed right.”
“Give me the abbreviated version. Did their stories change?”
“Dominic’s aide, Gordon, gave a statement that matched exactly what he had previously stated. Jelena’s changed slightly. She now remembers turning off the alarm clock. Said she misspoke when she initially told Officer Cross about what she touched.”
“Remind me,” said Birdie, “who is Cross?”
“Cross ran the log. As first responder he asked her what she touched when she arrived at the scene. She admitted to touching the doorknob when she unlocked the front door, a magazine in the great room, and the doorknob to the master bedroom.
“When I interviewed her she said the reason she went upstairs is because she heard the alarm clock beeping, but she didn’t mention to Cross that she turned it off. Yesterday, she admitted to turning it off.”
“Which means,” said Thom. “She got a close-up look at the bodies.”
“Other than that detail, it was exactly the same. When asked why she didn’t tell Officer Cross about turning off the clock she said she must’ve been in shock. She didn’t even back off from her dislike of the twins.”
“And the bartender, Kidd?” said Thom.
“His story changed. He told us he did know Jelena. She’s a regular at Hank’s. That’s where they initially met. They hook up occasionally at his place. He also admitted to seeing her the night I visited. He said that one of the perks of being a young bartender is lots of women. He gets laid consistently. Oftentimes on the premises. His story got interesting. Seems Jelena is always looking for a mark. An older, rich man. She’s money hungry. Looking for a sugar daddy like the one her friend has.”
“What friend?” said Thom.
“Some Asian chick she went to school with. Kidd said he only saw her once, but that Jelena talks about her all the time.”
“And I walk in and she marks me,” said Thom.
“Yes. According to Kidd, she watched you and eventually moved your way.”
“How did Jelena respond to Kidd’s representation?”
“Her interview was first.”
“Now everyone knows about me,” said Thom.
“No,” said George. “She only knows you as an older gentleman named Thomas. Remember, she never got your last name. She’d never met you before.”
“How does Kidd feel about Jelena marking men?” said Thom.
“He could care less. He gets his rocks off,” said George.
“May I ask a personal question?” said Birdie to Thom. “How did you explain the gun when you were with her?”
“I never wear one when I go out,” said Thom. “I keep it locked in the car.”
“Smart,” said George. “If anyone were to ever figure out you were a cop, they couldn’t claim malfeasance or coercion.”
Thom clicked his teeth. “Exactly.”
“I need another reminder,” said Birdie. “Who asked who?”
“She asked me,” said Thom.
“And she reiterated that yesterday,” said George. “I played this up in the interview. At some point Thom’s identity will come out and we’ll have two independent statements that she targeted you. Hers and Kidd’s.”
“Not a setup after all,” said Thom. “Anything else?”
“That’s it. So much for me being forbidden from talking to you about it.”
Thom said to Birdie, “Since we’re exchanging gifts should we give George ours?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’ll get it.” Birdie went to the office and came back with yet another CD. “These are phone messages left on my extension at the newspaper. I believe they belong to the serial killer.”
“What? Why didn’t you call the police?”
“I thought they were crank calls. They were out of context until I happened upon Thom’s case file, you know, the one you collected from me last night? You know me, an unattended file, an active imagination … and well … you are the police. Now I have to tell the paper.”
“This might’ve just busted open the case.”
Birdie grimaced. “Not sure about that, but hey, go to town. Take it to the bosses. Have them work it out.”
Thom felt Noa’s phone vibrating in his pocket. “Excuse me,” he said. He went to the bathroom and answered. “Hello?”
“Aloha, Thom. This is Noa. Did I wake you?”
“I’ve been up awhile. So … it’s you.”
“Live in Memorex. Seems you passed the point of no return yesterday when you fulfilled my terms. I want to meet you in person before we take the next step. Tonight. Seven p.m. Chinatown. Have paper and pencil? You’ll need to take down directions.”
“I’m not in a place I can write.”
“Okay. Hang up. I’ll call back and leave a message. Still have that password?”
“Yes.”
“Terrific. See you tonight. And Thom? Don’t forget the Benjamins and come with an appetite. Aloha.” The call disconnected.
“What if I wasn’t available tonight?” whispered Thom.
He
returned just in time to see George off. They hugged. “Good luck with Dominic’s office today,” said Thom. “Don’t forget the IT guy.”
“Will, do. Take care.”
“Walk me down?” said George to Birdie.
She escorted him downstairs. When they got to the bottom of the stairs he kissed her on the cheek. “I’m sorry again for last night.”
“The George Silva I know wouldn’t have crossed that line.”
“Guess I was impatient.”
They said goodbye and Birdie rejoined Thom upstairs in the office. He had a phone to his ear and was scribbling notes. After he disconnected he said, “Noa. We’re meeting tonight.”
“He got his money and isn’t wasting time. That’s good, I think, gives you less time to back out.”
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to. He’s going to judge me. Make sure I’m not crazy. If he chooses not to take my case I get the money back. But if I change my mind, he keeps it. Listen, I want to be at home when the kids get back from school today. They need a daddy fix just as much as I need a kid fix. I have to be out of here by two-thirty. Help me keep the schedule?”
“Of course. When are you going to tell George about Jelena getting into Moysychyn’s car?”
“Not sure. Maybe she marked her previous landlord as well.”
“Who’s making theories now? Maybe she killed for him, too.”
forty-four
“Thank goodness for Bennie Hy,” said Thom, checking emails on his laptop. “He’s the clerk. Sent me the CCPD case file. He either sent it as a courtesy, or he doesn’t know I’m off the case. Shit! I have to go to the Bradbury Building at ten.”
“Internal affairs found you, huh?” said Birdie.
“It just says I have an appointment in office two-fifteen at ten. Well, that won’t work. I have a life and need more notice. Besides, I haven’t been officially notified of a complaint. I haven’t seen any documentation and I want written notification, with my required action made clear in black and white.”
“Isn’t that what they just did?”
“No. They didn’t say why I needed to come. This one can be put off.” He furiously typed a response.
“Is there an attachment?”
“None.”