by Harry Hoge
"I agree with Frank," Holloman uttered. "Rankin has been through hell, and will suffer more than the average citizen locked up in Huntsville. There's no justice in pressing indictments against Rankin, only a sort of revenge."
"I'll talk with his lawyer," Shapiro offered. "But, I'm not enthusiastic about turning him loose."
"What about Sheridan?" Frank asked.
"I've ordered an investigation by Internal Affairs," Holloman replied. "I think she's clean of any major misdoing, but I don't want it to look like we tried to cover anything up."
"She's a good cop," Frank agreed. "She apprehended her own sister when she wasn't even protected by a badge."
"That will bring some interesting questions from the defense," Shapiro volunteered.
Holloman looked back and forth between the detective and the assistant District Attorney. Once he was convinced neither had more to say on the subject, he reported, "I talked with her. She wants to clear up the IA investigation and remain retired. She said she had more than she could handle looking after her father."
No one responded.
"Okay," Holloman continued. "If I have this right, we go for multiple counts of murder one and abduction with Sheera Rankin and Gus Sullivan, conspiracy and wanton endangerment on Samuel Sullivan, and move to release Reuben Rankin and Gretchen Sullivan. Anything else?"
After a moment Frank replied, "I plan to assign Chad Sherman to follow up on the cases of death by peyote from outside the city. He's leaving the department in a month or so, and there's no need to put him back in a patrol car. And, since I'm now lieutenant, we need a detective to replace me. I recommend Roger Harrington."
"Has he taken the exam?" Holloman asked.
"Yes. Some time ago. He passed, but will need supervision for a while."
"You don't plan to team him up with Gardner when she gets back on duty?"
Frank smiled. "No. That would be a mistake. I thought Aaron Fox and Gardner would work well together. Arnold Grisham is a veteran. He'll work well with Harrington."
"Well, Frank," Holloman smiled, pushing his chair back from the table and grabbing his tray of dirty dishes. "You've done excellent work on this. You need sleep. Take the rest of the day to recover, and we'll get everything started. I'll need your help in the morning." The rest rose and walked together to the trash bins.
Ten minutes later, Frank was in his car, driving west. He was tired, but he didn't relish the idea of going to his apartment and trying to sleep. There was nothing there except reminders of Pauley. Tomorrow he'd be back on the edge, glancing right and left, trying not to take that rueful step in the wrong direction. He would deal with tomorrow, tomorrow. Today was the immediate concern. He hoped he wouldn't stop at the convenience store on his way home, but he knew he was going to.