by Hopkin, Ben
“I haven’t done anything,” the attorney pled.
“You have no alibi. You have taken an inordinate interest in the case before we have apprehended any suspects. You are found leaving the room of our only witness immediately after the man’s death.” Darc listed the suspicious behavior without any change in inflection. The result was chilling. Mala found that she was glad to never have to face that kind of inquiry.
“Wait. You believe me?” Trey said, looking at his partner with surprise. “I mean… Yes! You believe me.” He turned to the APA. “You’re guilty!”
“That is not what I said,” Darc corrected Trey. “I do not know whether or not he is guilty. I only express it as a probability.”
“C’mon, Darc. Give me a number. You’re good at that kind of thing.”
Darc paused. “Currently, I would put the probability at 54.7 percent.”
Trey seemed to think about that for a moment. “Better than even. I’ll take it.” He pointed his finger at Carson. “You’re going down, ass-wipe!”
“Listen,” the APA said, stretching out his hands wide. “I don’t know how this has gotten as bad as it has…”
“Modulating. Modulating!” Trey barked.
“That’s it,” growled the lawyer. “I’m done. You two are certifiable.”
He began walking down the hallway, muttering to himself and shaking his head. Before the lawyer could get to the elevators, Darc called out after him.
“Mr. Speer. You may need to make yourself available for questioning.”
If the APA heard, he made no indication. Trey turned to Mala and grinned.
“This case just got fun again.”
Mala did what she could to stifle her sigh.
* * *
The fragmented rays of color tormented Darc. The interaction with Trey around calling for backup in the Greenbelt had torn apart Darc’s inner workings. The logic lines still pointed to where he needed to go, but it was almost as if he could not see them clearly. When he had pushed back against the council they had offered, it was like an internal lens had shattered.
The fire was largely contained, not without some amount of difficulty. The remaining thermite had reacted badly with almost everything the firefighters had thrown at it, but now it was burning down, leaving a stretch of forest that had been scarred.
Darc felt the echoes of that scarring in his own soul. No matter on how many occasions Trey had attempted to reassure him, his partner’s reasoning always seemed a superficial salve on an arterial bleed.
Trey was driving them back to the precinct building. Mala was on her way home to take care of Janey. Darc found that his strong instinct was to ask Trey to follow her. It was the same type of feeling that had resulted in the death and disfigurement of so many.
He did not trust this feeling.
Janey would be in bed asleep at this hour. Mala would arrive at her apartment and send the babysitter home. Then she too would sleep.
There would be no sleep for Darc.
None.
A random frayed dart of color interrupted Darc’s thoughts. They were going the wrong direction.
“Where are you going?”
Trey shrugged, glancing over at his partner. “Dude. You need a pep talk.”
“I do not understand the significance of what you are saying.”
Darc’s partner sighed. “I get that you’re bummed. I am too. And don’t think I don’t know that it’s my fault for demanding that the team join us.”
Another stray color intruded. “They were all adults, operating in the capacity for which they were trained. Taking responsibility for their choices is illogical.”
“Man, you’re all over the map tonight,” Trey responded. “Is there something broken in there?” He pointed at Darc’s forehead.
As occasionally occurred, his partner could be quite perceptive at times, although what was taking place was far more complex than his sophomoric question implied. But that was part of what made Trey… his friend.
That realization exploded upon Darc with the radiant white heat of the thermite. It was more of the grey landscape, but now it seemed illuminated in a way that was disturbing to him. Especially as the lines of logic appeared so disjointed.
He could not afford to trust this new light. It had misled him. He would not allow that to happen again.
Trey was waiting for an answer. His question about Darc being broken was not rhetorical. His seeming insight was superficial and required substantiation.
“Yes, Trey. There is something broken.”
Nodding his head, Trey took another turn. Darc now recognized where they were going. Trey’s apartment.
Trey and Maggie’s apartment.
“Okay, Darc. I know this is still a little awkward, but no one knows you better than Maggie. Well, except for me, but I’m at a loss here. You’re messed up and you need help that I can’t give you.”
Darc remained in his seat. It was not that he was incapable of understanding Trey’s point. Nor was he troubled by the thought of speaking with his ex-wife, although Trey clearly thought he was.
Something else kept him rooted. A vague sense of uneasiness that pervaded that emotional topography. He did not want to enter Trey’s apartment.
Darc was afraid.
Strangely, putting a name to his feelings caused them to dissipate somewhat. Enough that he was able to exit the car and follow Trey up to the apartment.
“Babe,” Trey called out. “Darc’s here with me.”
Maggie came out from the bedroom, taking a long look at both Trey and Darc. She walked around the couch slowly.
“You boys been in a fire?”
Trey cleared his throat. “Long story.”
Shrugging her shoulders, Maggie pinned Trey with her gaze. “I’ve got time.”
“Okay, so not so long of a story, really. The killer left a trap in the Greenbelt that ended up killing a bunch of cops and our only witness and almost got us too.”
Maggie shook her head. “Why do I ask?”
“I keep telling you not to…” Trey muttered, just loud enough that Darc could hear him. It was doubtful Maggie could.
“What do you need?” she asked.
Trey looked at his partner, then over to Maggie. “Darc’s busted.”
There was a long pause, then Maggie went over to the sofa, sat down and patted the cushion beside her. Darc felt the same fear rise up within him. What was he afraid of?
He forced himself to move, following Maggie’s path to the couch and taking a seat where she had indicated. His body sank into the cushions, finding their own space there. This couch was one that Maggie and Darc had purchased together.
“Trey,” Maggie said in a quiet voice. “This may be awkward.”
Darc’s partner turned his gaze from her to Darc and back again. There was an expression on his face that Darc had rarely seen there. What was that? Sadness? Remorse? Resignation?
“Do what you have to do,” he said finally, sitting in the easy chair opposite the sofa where Maggie and Darc were positioned side by side.
Maggie reached up with ease of familiarity, placing her hand on the back of Darc’s neck. She gently led his head down until it rested in her lap.
It was their ritual.
The one that they had engaged in every time Darc had come home from a particularly difficult case when they were married. She stroked his scalp, murmuring that it was okay, it was all right, everything would work out, he was doing the best he could, it wasn’t his fault, it was okay, it was okay, it was okay.
The act that had seemed so foreign to him when she had first done it. The one he had dreaded every time she had performed it. The one he had somehow known she would do again tonight.
And Darc felt something bubble up from within him. Something from that broken place inside that continued to ache with a dull throbbing pain that settled in his abdomen and kept him from eating, from sleeping, from doing anything but pursuing criminals.
He didn’t know what was occurring with him. The sensation continued to grow, exploding from his lungs, his mouth, his eyes. This had never happened to him before.
Darc was crying.
* * *
Okaaaaaay.
Trey hadn’t known what to expect when he brought Darc back to his and Maggie’s apartment. It had just been an idea. He had them all the time. Most of them were pretty bad.
One thing was sure. He had not expected this.
The bar had been set low. The side trip had really just been for Maggie to tag in for a sec. You know. Just to take some of the pressure off of himself. He’d known that Darc needed help and that what Trey had tried so far had been pretty much ineffectual.
Holy Mary mother of Jesus.
It wasn’t just that Darc was crying. Trey’s partner was sobbing. There was snot flying everywhere, Maggie’s jeans were soaked with tears and Darc was making sounds that might embarrass a five-year-old.
And Trey had no idea where to look.
The whole thing was fascinating, in a car-wreck-rubberneck kind of way. But staring at his partner while he was so vulnerable like that… It felt just wrong. In every way possible.
On the other hand, it seemed like this was something that might actually help. Darc kept so much bottled up inside, there were times that Trey was pretty sure if the guy got a massage he would either shatter right there on the table, or be completely incapable of standing back up. Darc’s tension had tension.
But it had always seemed like part of the package. There had even been moments when Trey had decided that the whole robot impersonation was really just Darc. His personality. It had soothed his conscience a bit for those moments when Trey had gotten irritated and lashed out at the tall detective. He’d assumed that it just didn’t affect Darc.
Clearly, he had been mistaken.
Well, suck.
Trey wasn’t the only one surprised. Maggie was still stroking Darc’s head, but her expression said that she had no idea what to do next.
Yeah. Speaking of. What were they supposed to do next?
He was saved from having to figure that one out by the ringing of his cell phone. It was a relief to not have to deal with Darc blubbering for a moment, but who was calling at this hour?
Before he could even identify himself, the voice on the other end began jabbering. “Detective Keane, this is Bradley Moore over at the Mayor’s office.”
Oh crap.
In all the hubbub, Trey had completely spaced the fact that they were supposed to have gone over to the Mayor’s office to talk about the protection detail. This wasn’t good. Not at all.
“Um, right… Bradley. Listen—”
“No, no,” the assistant interjected. “You listen. The Mayor’s been kidnapped.”
Trey felt his stomach fall out from the bottom of his shoes. The Mayor of Seattle had been kidnapped. And it had happened while Trey and Darc were off chasing down bad guys instead of meeting with the man’s staff like they were supposed to.
Apparently this night was all about the unexpected.
* * *
Mala had just sent Pyper home. The poor girl looked like she was pretty frazzled. Mala would have to talk to her about just what had happened that evening that had caused her distress. Janey wasn’t making many inroads when it came to stellar behavior with those who were tasked with her care and teaching.
After going in to check on Janey… who was still up, the little munchkin… Mala stayed for a while to cuddle with her foster daughter. This case had eaten up way too much of her time lately, and some things had fallen through the cracks. Some of those were Janey’s actions at school. Those were troubling, but at the end of the day, they were temporary. Mala knew enough to recognize that there was going to be an adjustment period, and they were still right in the middle of it. Janey’s behavior at school would most likely stabilize.
But there were other, long term, actions that needed to be taken. Mala had fully intended to have all the paperwork filed to adopt Janey at this point. There were no relatives anywhere… both of Janey’s parents had been a bit older, and their own parents had passed on.
There was nothing keeping Mala from bringing Janey into her family full time. Nothing except for time.
That was all it was, right? Mala squirmed in closer to Janey, taking the little girl in her arms and holding her close. Janey squeezed her back, burying her head in Mala’s chest. She was such a fighter. The things this tiny one had suffered made Mala’s blood freeze when she allowed herself to dwell on them.
But then there were moments like these. Moments when it was clear how small Janey was. How fragile.
Maybe there was some fear there, too. It was possible that Mala was frightened that she wouldn’t be up to the task of healing her emotionally scarred charge.
It was something to think about, certainly. And if there were any truth to it, that was something that Mala would want to have all sorted out before she made their arrangement permanent. There was no doubt in Mala’s mind that Janey was hers. But she didn’t ever want Janey herself to ask that question because of Mala’s issues.
“Okay, stinker,” Mala said. “You need to get to sleep, or you’ll never be able to get up tomorrow.” She leaned over, tickling Janey and making her laugh. It was a beautiful sound to hear. The closest Janey came to speech. The laugh was full, from the belly. A gut laugh. It never failed to bring a smile to Mala’s face.
She was standing up when a call came in. Trey.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“Mala, I’m so sorry, but we need your help.”
She turned and looked at Janey, who was asking the question with her face. What’s going on? That’s Trey, isn’t it? Can I go?
For someone that didn’t talk, her face was a total chatterbox.
“Trey, I can’t. I just sent home the babysitter. I’m stuck here.”
He let out a deep breath. “Yeah. I figured. It’s just…” he trailed off.
It was a manipulation. Mala knew it was a manipulation. Trey knew it was a manipulation. Didn’t mean it wasn’t working.
“What, Trey?”
“We royally screwed up,” he confessed. “We were supposed to be at the Mayor’s office, working on getting him a protective detail, but then you called with the Freemason stuff…”
“And you guys headed out to the forest and the fire happened,” Mala finished for him. “But they can’t fault you for that, can they?”
There was the sound of Trey clearing his throat. “He was kidnapped.”
“What?!” Mala burst out. She looked over at Janey, who was still wide-awake and probably would be for several more hours, if the past were any indication.
This was important. The killer had the Mayor, and Trey and Darc could be held responsible. Surely this justified Janey losing a little more sleep, right?
But then there was Richard Templeton…
Screw it. She worked with the Seattle Police Department. She couldn’t take care of Janey the way she needed to if she didn’t also do her job that paid the bills. And right now, Trey and Darc needed her.
“I’ll be there,” she said to Trey.
“Great!” breathed the detective. “Oh, and one more thing. It’s about Darc…”
CHAPTER 17
Janey was thrilled.
She knew that it must have been something bad for Mala to have let her get out of bed and out of her PJs and go down with her to the parking garage. Really bad. But somehow Janey didn’t mind all that much.
Actually, it kind of made her happy. If things were bad, maybe she could help. Although if she were out really late, it would make things harder at school. There were some things that needed to happen tomorrow, and Janey had to be there for them.
Oh, well. She could always take a nap like her teacher kept trying to convince her to do. And Mala, too. Grownups were weird sometimes.
Popeye stuck out his tongue at her and said that she was weird, but she just ignored him. He a
lways got cranky when he stayed up too late. Although how anyone could tell that he was cranky was beyond her.
She swung her bag of paper and crayons around, making a circle in the air that was traced by the colored paths in her head. The garage had that gasoline and dirt smell that always made Janey want to sneeze when she smelled it. She put Popeye up against her nose so it wouldn’t be so bad. And then if she sneezed, she’d sneeze into Popeye.
That made her bear pretty mad. He didn’t like to be compared to a tissue.
Tissue. That word reminded Janey of a joke her mommy used to tell her and daddy all the time. When they’d ask for a tissue, she’d say, Tissue? I hardly know you.
Janey had never understood what that meant, but it had always made her daddy laugh. She missed his laugh. It was big and deep and growly, but nice and warm all at the same time. Darc never laughed. He did on the inside; she was sure of it. But it would be nice to hear, all the same.
Mala laughed and so did Trey and Maggie. But it wasn’t the same.
But now they were off. To the Mayor’s office, Mala had said. She didn’t know who this Mayor was, but he sounded pretty important.
The best part of the whole thing, though, was that Darc was going to be there. She would give him such a big hug. Darc acted like he didn’t like hugs, but he did. It was one of the things the lines in her head had told her.
There were some other things they had told her, too. Things that might help Darc. But it also sounded like everyone was in a hurry, so she should get started right now.
She pulled out a piece of paper and a crayon and started drawing.
* * *
Things were going according to plan.
Well, the word plan was always such a relative term. Such that it almost held no real information at all. Perhaps better to say that the overall goal was still achievable, in spite of all the interference from the two detectives.
Keane was proving to be more resilient than the Intermediary would ever have expected. It was pleasing, in a way, to see that excellence could indeed be bought with painful sacrifice. The man certainly worked hard enough.
Not that he would ever be on a par with his partner. Now that was a force for the greater good. Such a shame that it was a tool that had been warped in the fire.