Stiff Penalty (A Mattie Winston Mystery)

by Annelise Ryan

  “You’re not still living at the motel, are you?”

  “No, thank goodness. I’m back in my cottage. Only these days it feels more like a prison. I have to tell someone anytime I want to go out, and I haven’t been allowed to visit any of my family because Hurley doesn’t think their houses are secure enough.”

  “Have they visited you?”

  “No. I told them not to. It’s too risky. My mother hardly ever ventures outside anyway, and Desi’s always busy with the kids.”

  “No wonder you’re feeling stressed.”

  “And you don’t know the half of it yet,” I say.

  “So tell me.”

  I glance at my watch. “Are you sure you have the time?”

  “I told you I have all day. I want to hear the rest of it.”

  “Okay, but I have to pee first. And I’ll have an escort for that, too. Fortunately, the cop with me today is a woman.”

  “There’s a bathroom right across the hall,” Maggie says. “I’ll wait until you come back.”

  I hoist myself out of the chair, a Herculean task these days, and say, “Sure, flaunt your vast bladder capacity at me. See if I care.” I lumber out of the room and find Brenda Joiner sitting in the waiting room.

  “I was starting to get worried,” she says, tossing aside the magazine she is reading. “You’ve been in there so long. If it wasn’t for the fact that I could hear your voice through the door, I might have felt compelled to break in there just to make sure you were all right.”

  “I’m sorry, Brenda. I know it’s been a while, and it’s going to be even longer still, I’m afraid. I’m just taking a bathroom break.” I lumber out into the hallway and to the bathroom. Brenda is right on my heels.

  “If you want, you can leave, and I’ll call you when I’m done,” I say as I lock myself into a stall so narrow I can barely turn around in it.

  “No way, José,” Brenda says. “Hurley’s instructions are to stay with you at all times. And I’m fine. I don’t have anywhere I need to be.”

  “Don’t you think this whole thing has gotten out of hand?” I ask her as I finish peeing. “It’s been more than four months of this. If someone really wanted to kill me, don’t you think they would’ve done it by now?”

  “You’re still getting those phone calls, and they’re coming from a series of burner phones that change with every other call. So clearly someone has you on their radar.”

  I flush and emerge from the stall to wash my hands. As I dry them, I say, “I think maybe these latest phone calls have to be coming from my father.”

  “We know that the original calls weren’t from him, so that doesn’t make sense. Even if it was him, why is he being so sneaky about it? Why all the different phones? Why doesn’t he just talk to you?”

  “I don’t know.” This isn’t altogether true. If the latest round of calls are indeed coming from my father, he has a very good reason for being so surreptitious. But no one knows the reason at the moment except for me, Richmond, a couple of state troopers, and a handful of federal agents. And I intend to keep it that way.

  I try once again to convince Brenda to leave, but she refuses. As soon as we head back to Maggie’s office, she settles in with her magazine again and says, “I’m assigned to you all day long, so take as much time as you need.”

  Maggie is still seated where she was when I left, and since I left the door to her office open, she has seen and heard the part of the exchange with Brenda that took place in her waiting room.

  “I see what you mean,” she says, once I close the office door.

  I waddle back to my seat and drop into it. “I have no privacy anymore,” I tell her. “Although there is an upside. It has gotten me out of going to the gym because no one thinks it’s safe enough. But it’s like this twenty-four hours a day. That makes it kind of hard to work on a relationship, particularly when there’s a beautiful woman in the picture who doesn’t wear clothes that look like tents, doesn’t have boobs that leak at odd times, does strut around in fashionable do-me shoes, and does seem to have lots of free time to spend with whomever she wants.”

  “I take it that the whomever you are referring to is Hurley.”

  “How did you guess?”

  “Let’s just say it doesn’t require a psychiatric degree to figure that one out. Does this videographer have a name?”

  “Yeah, Charlotte the harlot.”

  Maggie bites back another smile.

  “It’s Charlotte Finnegan. She told us all to call her Charlie, because she’s”—I pause and make air quotes with my fingers—“just one of the guys. Hmph! That’s not fooling anyone.”

  “How do you and this Charlotte get along? I assume you’ve had to work with her for the past few months.”

  “On the surface we get along fine. Of course, many of our interactions are on film, so we both tend to be a bit restrained and on our best behaviors during those times.”

  “And the other times?”

  “She’s made it pretty clear that she’s interested in Hurley.”

  “Are you sure about that? Is there a chance that you might be reading meanings into things that aren’t there?”

  “Let me tell you how our first few days together went, and then you tell me if you think I’m imagining things. If that doesn’t convince you, I have plenty more.”

  Maggie shifted in her chair and put her legs up on a stool, getting herself comfortable. “Okay then,” she said, pen poised. “Let’s hear it.”

  Chapter 21

  After we left Hurley’s house and went back to the police station, Hurley walked me inside, sticking close to my backside, like a tick on a dog’s ass. Once we were safely within the station’s confines, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Hey, Mattie, congratulations!” said Heidi, the day dispatcher. “I heard the good news!” She cast a wary eye around the room and then in a low voice added, “And congrats to you, too, Hurley.”

  It seemed Richmond was right; everyone knew about me and Hurley.

  As we entered into the back area behind the security door, Hurley said, “We should try to fit you with a Kevlar vest.”

  I looked at him like he’d said we needed to go buy the Brooklyn Bridge. “You’re kidding, right?” I eyed my chest dubiously.

  “No, I’m not. It’s not a guarantee of safety, but it’s a move in the right direction.”

  “Steve’s right,” said Richmond, who had walked up behind us and apparently overheard.

  I was about to protest, but Richmond grabbed my arm and hauled me into the office he and Hurley now shared.

  The troopers had infiltrated the place, and it was obvious no one was very happy about it. Though most of the cops knew one another and had often shared a drink, a story, or a bust, you never would have guessed it from the palpable wall of tension I felt. Hurley’s desk was occupied by a trooper whose name tag said SKINNER. He looked to be in his late forties, close to Richmond’s age, and he was a little shorter than me, balding, and leaning toward the pudgy side.

  “Good morning,” Skinner greeted us. “I’ll be out of your way in just a sec. I need to finish up some paperwork.”

  “Take your time,” Richmond said, and he sounded like he meant it, even though I knew it had to aggravate him to be displaced this way. Richmond walked over to a wall cabinet, opened it, and took out a Kevlar vest that looked big enough to fit two policemen. “This is my old vest,” he said. “Try it on.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, eyeing the thing. “It’s huge.”

  “Yeah, well, so was I.”

  “By the way, you look great, Bob,” Hurley tossed out.

  “Thanks. I’ve been working hard at it.”

  He handed me the vest, which felt like it weighed a ton. I nearly dislocated my shoulder trying to put it on. Then I nearly cried when I saw how well it fit, at least the top part of it. There was plenty of room in the bottom of it—though with time that would obviously change—but across my bust it f
it just fine. It smelled like a gym locker room.

  “This looks ridiculous,” I said, taking the vest off and tossing it in the corner. “That’s not happening.”

  Hurley bit back a smile. “It does look a little ridiculous,” he said. “But it’s the best we have for now. They don’t make body armor for pregnant women.”

  “Then you guys are just going to have to guard me better.”

  Hurley and Richmond both sighed. I think they knew they had lost the battle. Richmond waved the white flag by saying, “Skinner here is in charge of the investigation into the guy who shot you.” He turned to Skinner then and said, “Got anything new you can share with us?”

  Skinner shook his head, but he gave me a funny look that made me think he did have something, just not something he was willing to share at the moment. He cleverly changed the subject before anyone could ask anything else. “What have you guys got going on this morning? The place is packed, and everyone is all abuzz about something.”

  “Yeah, the chief has an announcement to make,” Richmond said. He glanced at his watch. “In fact, we need to head to the break room now because he’s due to talk in two minutes.”

  We headed that way, leaving Skinner behind at Hurley’s desk. Despite the fact that the break room was large, people were packed in like sardines. Both on- and off-duty cops had come in, and there was a lot of muttering and murmuring going on. Over in the far corner I saw Alison Miller, camera slung around her neck as usual, taking notes. She saw me looking at her and gave me a little finger wave, which I reluctantly returned. Despite her new, friendlier demeanor, I still wasn’t sure I could trust her.

  Chief Hanson came into the room precisely at eight-thirty. Right behind him was a woman carrying a video camera. Silence fell over the room faster than Felix Baumgartner fell to earth, and as I looked around at the others, I saw that everyone was focused on the woman who had entered with Chief Hanson. It was hard not to stare; she was glaringly, frighteningly beautiful, with fine features, porcelain skin, a cascade of thick, dark red hair, eyes as blue as an October sky, and a tall, hourglass figure that would look perfect on a pinup calendar. She showed off that figure with a pair of tight-fitting black slacks, a peacock-blue tailored blouse that complemented both her hair and her eyes, and matching blue pumps. Her makeup was subtle but there, and it looked like it had been done by a professional. I was instantly, unreasonably, and insanely envious. Of course, the fact that my ankles had morphed into cankles—a fact that wouldn’t bother me quite so much in another couple of months because I wouldn’t be able to see them—might have had something to do with it.

  “Good morning,” Chief Hanson said, smiling at the room. “I know you are all busy and have things to do and places to be, so I’ll make this as short as I can. To begin with, I’d like to announce that Detective Bob Richmond has come out of semiretirement and has rejoined our ranks on a full-time basis for now. He’ll be assisting Detective Hurley with all death-related investigations as well as assisting the vice squad. Please welcome Bob back into our family.”

  There was a general murmur of comments, and a couple of guys slapped Richmond on the back in a friendly gesture.

  After a few seconds of this, Hanson continued. “On the down side, I am sad to report that Detective Larry Johnson is leaving us to move to California. We appreciate your many years of service here with the Sorenson PD, Larry, and wish you all the best.”

  There was a general chorus of good wishes and a few slaps on the back for Larry, who was being forced to move to California so he could be near his kids. His ex-wife had married some rich fellow from the Silicon Valley and moved out there a month ago.

  The chief waited for the murmur to die down before he continued. “I’m also happy to announce that Officer Junior Feller has been promoted to the position of detective as of this week, and he will be taking over the vice cases from Larry, with assistance as needed from Detectives Hurley and Richmond. Congratulations, Junior!”

  The congratulatory murmurs in the room were louder with this announcement, and Junior got a couple of playful shoulder punches instead of slaps.

  “We are actively seeking to hire on two new officers,” Chief Hanson said, “and I have several interested candidates, including two new graduates and a transfer from Platteville. I hope to have the new folks in place within the month. Until they are on board, anyone wanting to work overtime shifts can see me.”

  This announcement was met with mixed reactions.

  “And finally,” the chief said, speaking a little louder to be heard over the side conversations going on in the room, “I’m happy to announce that today we will be launching a new program. We have received a grant and been approved as one of six beta sites for a new audiovisual evidentiary process. Basically this means that for the next six months we will have a full-time videographer on staff who will be accompanying the detectives to all major crime scenes so that we can film the scene, the evidence collection, and any off-site interviews that are done. Our videographer will be teaching all staff members how to operate and use the cameras to ensure high-quality videos that will be suitable for evidentiary use, as well as how to narrate when necessary as you film. This will start with the detectives and our evidence technician, Jonas, and gradually work down to all the officers. This is good news on several fronts. First, it means less paperwork for you guys because you can do many of your reports on camera rather than having to type them out.”

  This news was met with a mixed bag of reactions that ranged from excited and happy to wary. No one liked typing up reports, but I suspect the idea of performing in front of a camera made some folks nervous, me included.

  “The other reason this new addition is good news for us is that it eliminates some of our current issues with evidence collection and our cooperative efforts with the ME’s office. By videotaping our processes, we can skirt many of the problems we faced with needing to maintain professional oversight between the two agencies in order to ensure the integrity of our evidence.” He looked directly at me as he said this, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he knew about me and Hurley, or simply because he was mentioning the office I worked for.

  Chief Hanson turned then and nodded to the gorgeous woman behind him, who stepped up and waved at everyone. “I’d like to introduce all of you to Charlotte Finnegan, our new audiovisual technician.”

  This time the reaction was much more positive, although a few of the guys looked dumbstruck. When Charlotte smiled and said, “Please call me Charlie. I’m just one of the guys, and I’m really looking forward to working with all of you,” in a smoky voice with a hint of a Scottish lilt to it, I think every man in the room was momentarily mesmerized. I glanced over at Hurley, who was standing beside me, and was disheartened to see that he looked as awestruck as all the other men. Charlie was going to be a serious distraction.

  The chief continued, though I’m not sure how much of what he said next was heard by any of the men in the room. “Charlie will be working full-time and will also be on call twenty-four seven for the first month or so. During that time she will be training the detectives and a select group of officers on filming tips and techniques, as well as the proper care and use of the cameras. Our short-term goal is to have all of you do your own filming at some point, though I’m hoping that down the road we’ll be allowed to create a full-time videographer position that will include on-call time. Receiving this grant is a huge boon for us in that the cameras and Charlie are being provided to us free of charge. We were the only small-town police force that was included in the grant, so please make the most of it and make Charlie feel welcome.”

  Judging from the slobbering grins on most of the men’s faces, I didn’t think that last part would be a problem.

  Chief Hanson concluded his speech with, “That’s it. Have a safe day, everyone.” He then made his way through the crowd over to me and Hurley. “Steve, I’ve arranged for Charlie to start her training with you since you’re not actively working
a case right now. So if you could hook up with her once the rest of the room is done drooling over her, she’ll get you started. The two of you can spend the week together getting familiar with the goods.”

  I gave Chief Hanson a major evil eye. No way did I want Charlotte Finnegan to get familiar with any of Hurley’s goods, or vice versa. My initial excitement over the AV project and the elimination of much of the conflict of interest issues gave way to a feeling of dread and fear. I looked at Charlie as she did a meet-and-greet with various others in the room, wondering how Hurley could possibly spend a week with the woman and not want to bed her. Hell, I almost wanted to bed her.

  “No problem,” Hurley said to the chief. “I look forward to it.”

  I just bet you do, I thought, channeling my evil, snide side. I didn’t want to let Hurley be alone with lovely Charlie, but before I could think up a way to insert myself into his training, Bob Richmond tapped me on the shoulder.

  “Blake Sutherland should be here any minute. Are you ready?”

  I didn’t want to leave Hurley and Charlie alone together, but then I rationalized that it might do me good to get away from them. Blake’s interview would provide a much-needed distraction. Or so I told myself. In reality, trying to get my mind off Hurley was like to trying to get one’s mind off a painfully full bladder when the nearest bathroom is miles away.

  Chapter 22

  Alison managed to corner me and Richmond before we went in to talk with Blake Sutherland.

  “Well, this new video program is certainly interesting, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” Richmond said.

  “Detective Hurley seems excited about it,” Alison said with a sly look my way. “Best keep a close eye on him, Mattie.”

  “I don’t think Mattie has anything to worry about,” Richmond said.

  While I appreciated his confidence, I wasn’t sure I shared it.

  “Any news on the Derrick Ames case?” Alison asked us.