A Voice from the Field (3 page)

A silence hung in the room until Tia spoke up.

“Okay, hang on a second.” She looked back and forth between the cop and the lawyer, then hooked her thumb toward the door and forced herself to smile. “Did I shit the carpet coming in or something?”

When there was no answer, Tia shook her head in confusion. “How about somebody just explains to me what's going on.”

Graham returned to her seat and drew a deep breath that Tia knew was meant to signal her annoyance.

“This case?” the attorney said. “It has some very significant problems. I don't see any chance for a successful prosecution for the charges listed in the arrest report. I've cut the best deal for everyone involved and we'll plead it out today.”

“And that best deal is?” Tia asked. After several seconds of Graham staring at her, she got an answer.

“Disorderly conduct. Ten days' confinement. Considering time served and credit for good behavior, Kane will be released day after tomorrow.”

Tia blurted out a laugh that was loud enough to be out of place. “Yeah, right.” Travis sighed and stared straight ahead, not looking at Tia. Opposite her, Graham's expression remained impassive, detached. “You're kidding, right?” Tia pressed.

The lawyer's face seemed carved in stone; Tia realized the woman wasn't kidding. Tia turned to her sergeant, any hint of humor gone from her voice.

“Yo, TJ.” Her tone was challenging. “Are you going to say something here or what?”

Travis shrugged, turning to send a thousand-yard stare out the nearby window. Tia tried to shake Graham one more time.

“You can't possibly be serious?”

“I don't joke about such things. It's the best I can do, considering all the circumstances.”

Tia put her hands flat on the table to hide the fact that they were shaking. Her pulse pounded and she felt her face flush.

“Disorderly conduct? Ten days? This is a felony assault on a cop, not to mention Kane's involvement in what was obviously some sort of abduction.”

The woman removed her glasses, withdrew a cloth from one pocket of her jacket, and began polishing the lenses, sending the message that this conversation was a waste of her valuable time.

“Officer Suarez, this case—”

Tia's voice approached a shout and she stood from her seat. “Damn it, lady. It's
Detective
.”

Graham rocked back in her chair; Travis straightened up and seemed ready to step in if need be. Tia could see the prosecutor realizing she had miscalculated Tia's response and needed to regroup. The attorney conceded with a slight nod of her head and for the first time her voice held no attitude. “Again, I apologize. Detective.”

Tia lowered herself back into her seat and waited. Graham took a deep breath, then held up the case file for display. “Like I said, Detective. This case has got serious issues.”

“Like what?” Tia gave her boss a sideways glance to let him know she was doing his job. She was ready to fight for their case. “Name one.”

“Okay. For starters, Kane says he didn't even know you were a cop and in your report you make no mention of identifying yourself. Do you realize how that affects my ability to prosecute an officer-assault case?”

Tia fired back, making no attempt to hide her frustration. “I was a little busy trying not to get thrown into the back of his van, but if you want I can go back and—”

“No, you won't. I'm not going to add ‘amended police reports' to an already long list of problems.”

“Okay, so what? He thinks I'm a hooker. That gives him the right to try and kidnap me?”

“That's not how he tells it.”

“And how's that?”

“The defendant claims all he wanted was to get with a prostitute, then you jumped him. He figured he'd been set up for a robbery and any second your badass pimp would show up with a knife or a gun or whatever. Common occurrence and it makes for a good defense.”

“Yes, but—”

“One moment,
Detective
. I'm not finished.” Graham was back in control and all business. “Forget about the fact you don't ID yourself. It would appear you just so happened to have led the defendant out of camera range and that while he was out of view he sustained significant injuries. Word is, you joined in.”

Graham pulled Kane's booking photo from the file and set it on the table in front of Tia. Kane's eye was swollen shut and a deep purple bruise ran across his throat. His lips were puffy and red with what looked to be dried blood. Tia also saw that behind the injuries was the face of an unrepentant, hard-core crook. She was about to say she'd seen worse, but Graham cut her off.

“I realize this sort of cowboy tactic is pretty much how you do business over in Newberg, but it won't sit well with a Milwaukee jury. I have no doubt Kane would show up in court with a neck brace.”

Tia leaned against the table, incredulous. “He
attacked
me.”

“Well, once again, the accused has a different story.”

Tia scoffed, pushing the picture back toward Graham. “Is that how it works in Milwaukee County? Ass-bag defendants get more say than cops? This guy would have killed me given the chance.”

“He
says
you jumped him. He thought you were going to rob him. He has a right to defend himself. Why didn't you identify yourself as a cop?”

“Oh for Christ sake, fine. In the heat of the moment, I forgot.” Tia conceded the point to get to the bigger issue. “What about the girl in the van?”

“What girl, Detective?” Graham's voice was low, her words clipped. Tia heard the doubt in it.

There it is,
she thought. She laced her fingers together on the table in front of her, working hard to control the anger building inside. Her answer came out slowly, each word measured.

“There was a girl tied up in the back of the van. She had duct tape over her mouth. She was trying to scream for help.
That
girl.”

Graham shot a knowing glance at TJ. When she looked back at Tia, the sympathy was gone, replaced by a condescending attitude. “Kane says he doesn't know what you're talking about. He says the only other person in the van was a man who was going to split the cost of the hooker. Some guy he met at a bus stop. Add to that the fact we never found the van and there's been no corroborating missing person report.”

Tia opened her mouth, but Graham raised a hand. “Sorry, Detective. The deal has been struck and the offer accepted. The case is closed.”

Desperate now, thinking of the missing girl, Tia said, “I'm telling you I can sell this. We'll get the guy bound over for trial. Then when he's looking at real time, maybe he'll talk. Just let me testify. Show him we mean business.”

Graham shook her head as if she'd heard enough.

“Okay, Tia, let's just go ahead and deal with the elephant in the room, shall we?” the prosecutor said, her voice cold.

Tia lied, “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I know what you've been through—the episode in your county courthouse.”

Humiliation grew inside her as the lawyer went on. “What was that? Eight weeks ago? If we go to trial today, there's no way that doesn't come out. All of it. Do you really want to go through that?”

“It's been three months and I can handle it.” Tia held firm and her voice became indignant. “For Christ sake, I got shot to hell less than a year ago. I had a problem with the medication. They can ask me whatever they want. We'll let a jury decide.”

“Forget about the jury. I don't think we could get this past a judge at the preliminary hearing.”

“What are you saying, Counselor?”

The two women stared at each other silently for a long moment. Graham spoke first. “What I'm saying is, when you compare what happened in the Waukesha courtroom to what you say you saw in the van, it just doesn't ring true.”

“What I
say
I saw?”
There it is,
Tia thought, turning to TJ, who had gone back to staring out the window.
Damn, him, too? They all think I imagined it.
Had TJ sold her out or did her reputation as a nut job now extend all the way to Milwaukee?
No matter.
She turned back to the lawyer.

“I don't need you or anyone else worrying about how I'll hold up in a courtroom. You put this in front of a judge or a jury and I guarantee you, I'll sell it.”

Graham shook her head. There was pity in her voice. “Sorry. Considering all the circumstances, there's no way we can move forward on this case. We've got nothing.”

“And the girl? What about her?”

“The girl?” Graham smiled thinly. “
If
there was a girl; whoever she was … I wish I could help her. Next time bring me a real case and maybe it'll be different.”

“Next time, huh? Lot of good that does her.” Tia stood in a huff and moved to the door. With her hand on the knob, she decided she wasn't done and turned back to look at Graham and the sergeant.

“Graham, is it?” Tia said, then effortlessly switched languages. “
Cuál es su
apellido, amiga
?”

“I don't speak Spanish.”

Tia thought it sounded like the woman took pride in her ignorance.

“I just asked your maiden name.” Tia flicked her eyes toward the rock on the woman's finger. “Back before there was a Mr. Graham.”

The lawyer returned Tia's stare with a hard glare of her own. After several seconds she responded. “Rodriguez. Jiménez-Rodriguez to be more ethnically accurate, but I was born in Sacramento if that's where this is going.”

“Really. And your parents? Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez? How about them?”

After a moment's hesitation, Graham answered as if confessing some shameful fact. “They came from Guatemala. Two years before I was born. They worked the fields in the California Central Valley.”

“Wow. And look at you. College. Law school. They must be really proud. I'm glad it worked out for you.”

The lawyer sounded exasperated. “Look, Tia. It's nothing against you. I get it. You thought you saw something, but it was dark, right? No one else saw anything. Maybe in the stress of the moment—”

Tia cut her off, not wanting to hear it. “What is it they say about six degrees of separation? That's all there is between you, me, and a girl like her. Think about that when you get home and crawl into bed tonight.” Tia took two steps toward the table, pointing a finger directly toward the woman's face. She continued, her voice venomous, shaking with anger. “Just a couple of minor twists and turns in your life and maybe somebody slaps duct tape over your mouth and chains your ass up in the back of a van.”

The lawyer stared at Tia. Her lips were pressed together in fury. Tia knew she had crossed a line in her world of cops, crooks, and lawyers. She'd made it personal. Something that just wasn't done. If she apologized right away …

But she didn't. The moment came and went. The weight of her offense pressed down on everyone in the room.

She yanked the door open and lurched into the hall, slamming the door behind her and bolting past the startled clerk. Her heartbeat pushed against the collar of her shirt; her hand fumbled in her pocket. Tia pulled out both capsules and tossed them into her dry mouth. She bent over and took a long drink at the fountain. As the water swirled down the chrome drain, the young girl's brown face stared back and a small familiar voice began to call out.

 

THREE

“Good morning, sir. You wanted to see me?”

Chief Ben Sawyer turned to face Travis Jackson, who was standing in the doorway of Ben's office, looking like a cowed dog with no fight left in him. Ben figured his newly appointed detective sergeant was still in recovery from the fallout over the blown hooker detail in Milwaukee. Ben didn't see any reason to set the younger cop's mind at ease just yet. He did his best to come off as officious. Without standing, Ben waved the man inside.

“Have a seat, Sergeant.”

Jackson made his way around a few moving boxes and pointed to the only chair not covered with books. “Here okay, sir?”

Ben nodded. “Sit down.”

Ben stared ahead and forced himself to remember he was as much at fault as Jackson, but
Jesus.
When Ben had signed off on the prostitution detail outside Newberg jurisdiction, the operation plan showed that Tia Suarez was assigned to report writing. When Ben learned Jackson had allowed Tia to work undercover as john bait, he nearly blew a gasket. Ben made a special nighttime visit to the department and the chewing out that followed was epic on any scale.

On top of the assignment issue, the Milwaukee PD cover units had been way out of position. Ben had listened to the tapes and, by his estimate, the response to Tia's call for help had taken nearly thirty seconds. If Ben had run the op, the units would have been positioned to respond in less than half that time. But, just as Ben had reminded himself a dozen times since taking over as chief, his opinion on tactics was no longer sought.

Ben Sawyer had the luxury of experience beyond Newberg PD. When his thirteen-year career with Oakland came to an abrupt if not well-deserved conclusion, fate and family allowed him to land on his feet back in his hometown, thirty-five miles due west of Milwaukee. Just a few years later, circumstances landed him in the position of police chief of the small but active department.

In his heart, he was the same young officer who had once patrolled the streets of deep east Oakland. When Ben looked at Jackson, he saw a cop who had spent his entire eight years in law enforcement working for Newberg PD. A man who had never really been tested. Suarez, on the other hand, had been to hell and back so many times, even Ben had to hold the woman in awe. He knew she'd been having a tough time of it lately, but he knew she still had to do her job.