Edge of the Heat 2 (Westwood Harbor Corruption)

by Ladew, Lisa

  “I’ll text Hawk,” Emma said. Craig nodded.

  The nurse finished her business and left the room. Hawk came in with a haggard smile for both of them.

  “Hawk, Craig remembers everything.”

  Hawk turned to Craig, excitement in his eyes. “Was it Foster?”

  Craig shook his head. “Not sure buddy, sorry. It probably was but he was very careful. He used a voice changer and everything.”

  “Damn!”

  Hawk settled in and Craig told them both exactly what had happened that night, starting with putting Emma in the helicopter and then heading over to wildfire scene. He had been working with a partner, but they had been on different sides of the active firebreak. A bulldozer had come through, then the firefighters on the ground were setting burn backs on each side. Craig had been working his area single-mindedly. It was loud and hot and visibility was low. Someone came up behind him and shoved a gun in his back and prodded him towards the forest.

  He finished the story and they all picked it apart for unanswered questions. None of them found anything out that would definitively pin it on Norman.

  “There’s one thing that’s been bothering me for a while,” Emma said. “I don’t own a gun. So how did a gun with my fingerprints on it get at the scene?”

  “Have you ever shot a gun?” Hawk asked, turning to her with an interested look on her face.

  “Yes, of course, in the Army, but not a handgun. What kind of a gun was it?”

  “It was a 9mm Smith and Wesson 5906.”

  Emma thought for a second. “I went shooting with Norman a few times,” she said softly, trying to remember.

  “Was this when you were married?” Hawk asked, excitedly.

  “Yep, 7 years ago,” Emma said, grimacing. She didn’t want to think of the implications of this. If Norman had given her a gun in such a way that only her fingerprints were on it, and then kept it pristine like that for 7 years, well that would mean so many crazy things about him. Things she could barely comprehend.

  Hawk sat in silence, deep in thought. Emma didn’t want to interrupt him.

  He leaned forward suddenly and plied her for details of every time they went shooting. Emma tried to remember but it was hard; that was a long time ago.

  Eventually satisfied, Hawk excused himself and said he’d be back. He had some work to do.

  “Emma, I’m starving.”

  “Oh yeah? Starving for?” she trailed off, a mischievous smile playing around her lips. She walked over to his bed and ran her fingers down his bare chest in between the two halves of the gown.

  He growled and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her onto the bed. “Starving for a big plate of bacon and eggs that I can eat off of your bare ass.”

  “Ewwww, gross.” Emma laughed.

  The door whooshed open again and Emma quickly climbed off the bed. There was no privacy in a hospital.

  Craig’s doctor strolled in. A small man with small hands and thinning red hair. “Good morning Mr. Masterson, I hear you are feeling better,” he remarked with a twinkle in his eye.

  Emma blushed and moved away from the bed. She went in the corner to text Vivian.

  “Loads better Doc, now when can I get out of here?”

  “Patience sir, patience. Let’s see how you are looking.”

  The doctor did an examination first, and then asked Craig to lie down while he peeked under both bandages. He stepped back and said, “I have some good news.”

  “Oh yeah, let’s hear it.”

  “You are healing up perfectly. If you have someone to take care of you and you promise to come back for advanced recovery, you can leave tomorrow.”

  Emma’s eyes lit up in the corner. Tomorrow? I wonder if he’ll be able to exert himself? She blushed a little, but not enough to stop the thought. She imagined taking him home to her place and taking care of him, naked. Or maybe in one of those little french maid outfits. She didn’t have a french maid outfit, but maybe she could pick one up.

  Craig must have been thinking the same thing. “Are there any, um, limitations on my activities doc?”

  The doctor raised an eyebrow. “If you mean weightlifting yes, don’t do it. If you mean work, you can’t go back to work for at least 10 days. If you mean anything else, no, there are no limitations. If it hurts, don’t do it. If it doesn’t hurt, it’s fine. You are in excellent physical condition, and as such your body is healing quite quickly.”

  “Thanks doc.”

  The doctor left and Emma ran back over to the bed.

  “You heard what the doctor said, you need someone to take care of you. I volunteer.”

  “OK, but I plan on spending a lot of my recovery time in bed.” He pulled her onto the hospital bed again and kissed her hard, deeply, giving her a taste of what was to come.

  She nibbled on his bottom lip and ran her hands across his broad, sculpted chest, leaning over to straddle him but careful not to tangle in his IV wires. His heart monitor had long since been removed. “The doctor said you were in fine physical condition. I’ll have to check that out for myself.”

  The phone in her pocked buzzed. “Argh.” She looked. “It’s Vivian, she’s on her way up. This will have to wait some more.” She swung her leg off of him and climbed down.

  “So is she really your twin sister Emma?”

  “Yes, she is. Our mother died in childbirth and the hospital didn’t know her name so we were made wards of the state. Vivian was adopted but I entered the foster system.”

  “Wow, I can’t believe the family who adopted your sister didn’t take you both.”

  Emma hadn’t even considered that. Who does that? For an instant her vision darkened with thoughts of what could have been. But then she shook her head. No reason to go down that path, she chided herself. I’m sure they had a good reason. Maybe they couldn’t afford more than one baby. But wait, Vivian had said her parents were loaded. She actually had a trust fund and didn’t have to work a day in her life if she didn’t want to. But she did want to, because she was innately driven and curious and she loved her job. Maybe they just didn’t know. Maybe the state had only offered them one baby. That seemed more likely.

  Emma shook her head and focused on Craig.

  “Yeah, that’s weird, but maybe they didn’t know about me.”

  A knock on the door caused them both to look up. Vivian pushed it slightly open and peeked in.

  “Hi Viv, come in! Come in!” Emma was so excited to see her. She finally had a family member. She turned to Craig. “Think they’ll let you go down to the cafeteria? Or should we bring you up some food?”

  “Bring me up some food? A huge plate of meat and eggs would be great with some juice. I need to wait here for Hawk. He said he had something he needed to discuss with me.”

  At the mention of Hawk, Vivian blushed and looked to the door as if she were hoping to see him. Emma’s eyes grew wide and she laughed to herself, boy she’s got it bad. “Vivian can we go get some food? I haven’t eaten yet either.”

  Vivian nodded, smiling, relaxed again.

  The door opened again and Hawk strode in confidently, heavy boots eating up the tiled floor, clipboard under one arm. He flipped on all the light switches, smiled at Emma, completely ignored Vivian, and gruffly said “Good you’re up,” to Craig.

  Craig raised an eyebrow. Hawk moved on to the window and threw the curtains wide, letting in the light. He took one of the room’s two chairs and pulled it close to Craig’s bed and sat down, pulling a pen from the clipboard and beginning to scribble furiously.

  Emma looked at Vivian. Vivian wore an irritated look and was looking at Hawk with fire in her eyes. “Good morning, Hawk,” she said.

  Hawk’s pen stopped scribbling and he looked up briefly. “Morn,” he grunted and went back to his clipboard and papers.

  “Wow, some people” Vivian breathed under her breath, and turned on her heel, heading for the door.

  Emma shot Craig a questioning glance. He raised his hand
s to his shoulders in an I-don’t-know gesture. Then he motioned for her to come over to him. When she got there he hugged her and kissed her on the cheek and whispered “I’ll ask,” in her ear.

  She pressed her lips to his, then ran after her sister.

  ***

  “What was that about man?”

  Hawk raised his head and looked at Craig, feigning ignorance. “What?”

  “Why were you so rude to Emma’s sister?”

  “Was I rude to her?”

  “It looked like you were from here.”

  “Hmph, sorry.” Hawk turned back to his papers.

  Craig studied him for a moment. What was going on here? It wasn’t like Hawk to be mean to anyone.

  “No really, do you know her or something about her?”

  “Look, we really have to talk about business,” Hawk snarled, leaving no room for argument.

  “Ok, great, so just clear this up and then we can.” Craig had been friends with him for too long to be scared off with one of his distancing tactics.

  Hawk sighed heavily. “No, I don’t know her, but I know her type. Everything about her screams rich, spoiled brat. From her designer shoes to her expensive hair cut and diamond earrings. I spent most of my childhood with girls like that, and dated a few when I was older. There ain’t nothing good about them. I don’t like to hang out with trust-fund babies.”

  “Lucy was a trust-fund baby.”

  “Yeah, but Lucy was different. You of all people should know that!” Hawk stood up and threw his clipboard on his chair. “I’m getting a drink.” He stormed out.

  “OK then,” Craig said into the empty room. Sore subject apparently. Craig’s family didn’t have near the money that Hawk’s family had and the two had not been in the same social circles or even went to the same schools. Craig worked summers as a lifeguard at the country club Hawk’s family frequented. They met when they were both 16. Hawk had seemed to go out of his way to befriend Craig, and Craig was thrilled to be his friend. Most of the boys in the club treated Craig with disdain. They had become fast friends, doing everything together, including joining the Army at 18 for a four year stint. Craig and Hawk had taken all their leave together, spending these vacations at Hawk’s place. Craig had always had a crush on Hawk’s little sister, Lucy, but it wasn’t until she turned 18 and Craig and Hawk were 20 that Craig finally asked her out. Hawk never had let his parents give him anything, always wanting to work for it himself. Always seeming to have something to prove.

  Craig wondered if there was something about his friend that he didn’t know very well. He tried to think back to girls Hawk had dated from back home. He could only think of a few, and none that were serious. He’d had a girlfriend in the Army that got pretty serious, but when she switched duty stations they had broken up. Since then, Craig couldn’t think of one serious girlfriend.

  Hawk interrupted his thoughts by coming back in the room with a Coke and retrieving his clipboard and sliding back in the chair.

  “We are moving on Foster tomorrow.”

  Craig sat up straighter, all musings driven from his mind. “What time?”

  “4 a.m.”

  “Do you think he is going to expect you?”

  “We hope not. But we are going to assume he is. I’ve made Miller disappear so Foster doesn’t know for sure what happened. I hope he thinks he chickened out. He’s got a day off and we hope he’s planning on sleeping in.”

  Craig nodded, thinking hard. “What are you arresting him for?”

  “We only have hard evidence on his involvement with the Shroedinger scandal. That’s the one where his department stole the guns, drugs, and money they were supposed to turn in. That, and whatever we can get Miller to say about his second attempt on your life. I’m hoping we can convince Foster to talk once we get him in custody. I’m also hoping the Senator doesn’t get too spooked. We are going to leak to the press exactly what he is being arrested for so Senator Oberlin knows it has nothing to do with him.”

  “I bet he won’t talk.”

  Hawk nodded. “That’s what I’m afraid of. I wouldn’t be arresting him at all if he weren’t trying so hard to get rid of you. He’s becoming a real liability.”

  “What are you going to do if he doesn’t give up any connection to the Senator?”

  “Not sure.” Hawk looked down when he said it. Craig hoped he wasn’t thinking of doing something that would put him on the same level as Norman. Like torture him. Craig hoped he was well enough to be there when Hawk started questioning, just to keep his old friend in line.

  Hawk looked in Craig’s eyes, hardness in his face. “Make sure you and Emma don’t leave the hospital until I call you and tell you Norman is in custody.”

  Craig nodded again. He couldn’t believe he was going to miss arresting Norman, but he knew he couldn’t go. He knew Hawk would do the best job that could be done. His mind turned to leaving with Emma the next day. He was going home, and she was going with him.

  Chapter 14

  Dark and dangerous, Norman’s mood caused people to scatter away from him without even knowing why. He hadn’t been to the mall in years, but the only radio shack in this part of the city was here. He kept watching for a tail but he didn’t see one. Either those FBI assholes were better than he thought, or he just didn’t have a tail. Bad move guys, it’s going to get some of you killed.

  He had left work early, as soon as he had his shopping list finalized. This afternoon he would set it all up, and then he would leave his house for the last time. He hadn’t heard from Miller and that meant either Miller had chickened out and fled, or Miller had been arrested. Norman was betting on the second, especially since the volunteer who answered the phone at the hospital now said “There is no information on a Craig Masterson, sir. No record at all.” They were getting smart. Plus, Dr. Paloma hadn’t returned his calls over the last two days.

  If Miller had been arrested, they would be coming for Norman soon. Norman was determined not to be caught with his pants down. He was determined not to be caught at all.

  Norman entered the radio shack. The only two employees here were both scrawny, pimply-faced teenagers. Norman hoped they knew their shit. Since they were teenagers, they probably did.

  He gave the kid behind the counter his list. “I need all of this and a way to operate it remotely.”

  The kid raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth like he was about to make a joke, but one look at Norman’s face killed that joke in his throat. He walked to the shelves and started pulling off products.

  His trunk full of electronics, Norman drove home. He would need to work quickly outside before he lost the light. He started laying wire and drilling holes, setting up and camouflaging cameras and tripods and other, more dangerous things. After 3 hours of work outside he was ready to move inside. He repeated most of the actions inside, but didn’t bother with camouflaging. He broke a pane of glass out of his living room window facing the driveway and pointed a bullhorn at the street, a speaker and a semi-automatic rifle behind the bullhorn. At 7 o’clock, satisfied with his work, he grabbed the bags he had packed the night before, changed his clothes, and left the house for good, not bothering to look back.

  ***

  Norman’s mood was not even lifted by the thought that he got to play dress up again. His dreams of becoming police chief of Westwood Harbor were gone, shattered and scattered to the four winds. He needed a new dream. A new plan. Even if he couldn’t be Norman Foster anymore, he needed to be somebody playing in the big leagues. He needed to be in control of himself and other people. He needed to have a say in how things were run, how people felt. Time to go see the senator.

  He was pretty sure he knew where he would find the senator at this hour. He parked behind the large brick building downtown that housed the Senator’s home offices. He slipped out of the car and walked around to the front. Normally, when he dressed up he went for roles that required as much confidence and arrogance as his normal life did. But today, as a j
anitor he wasn’t sure how to play it. He didn’t pay enough attention to janitors to know what their mood or persona was. Maybe they had a persona that said under-the-radar, don’t look at me. Norman tried it out as he was walking around to the front. He rounded his shoulders a bit and tried to look smaller. He wasn’t feeling it. Damnit! He pulled his gray-green hat over his head low, and tried to shrink into his gray-green coveralls. Maybe he could pull this off better with a tool of the trade. A mop, or a bag of garbage. A prop to help him feel more in character.

  At the front of the building he pulled out his keys. The senator probably didn’t know Norman could get into this office. There were a lot of things the senator didn’t know.

  He locked the door behind himself and took the elevator to the fourth floor, most of which was the senator’s personal office space. After hours, he didn’t need to worry about the building guards, but of course he was on camera. The senator could worry about that detail.

  The elevator dinged open. He stepped out and listened. Oh yes, the senator was here alright. Music drifted down the corridor. Norman turned towards the doors, work boots heavy on the polished, glittering tile. He tried the handle of the large double doors at the end of the hall. Locked. That’s OK. Norman pulled out his keys again and quietly unlocked them. He swung the door open.

  The entryway was empty. He heard the senator mutter something Norman couldn’t make out from around the corner of the large, open office. A tinkle of feminine laughter followed. Norman was willing to bet that wasn’t the senator’s wife. He crossed through the entryway and rounded the corner.

  Senator Oberlin looked up immediately. He was fully clothed, while his blond 20-something was totally naked and sitting on his desk. Norman noticed strawberries and champagne. Celebrating something? Or just being a filthy old man?

  The Senator’s eyes narrowed. He drew himself up to his full height. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?” he demanded in his most dangerous tone.

  “Relax Frank,” Norman offered in a conciliatory tone. He took off his hat so the senator could see his face. “We’ve got some business. Perhaps you should show the lady out.”