A Voice from the Field (7 page)

“But you're not doing time. You're walking out.”

“You'll have to ask that pretty little lawyer why she took such a shine to me.” Kane shrugged. “My animal magnetism, maybe.”

“I'm thinking there's more to it than that, Kane. I'm betting your cracker homeboys will, too.”

Kane nodded and leaned in, closer than before. He put his hands flat on the table, the metal cuffs scraping loudly against the wood surface.

“Do what you want, I got no worries. My people know, Gunther Kane ain't gonna make a deal with cops.”

“Listen, Kane—”

“No, you listen,” he said, cutting her off. “I don't often make snap judgments about folks. Making assumptions is a bad habit. But you?” Kane tossed his head in a gesture of dismissal. “I'm pretty confident I've got you figured out.”

“How's that, Kane?”

“My lawyer tells me you're damaged goods.” Kane raised his cuffed hands and tapped his finger against the side of his head. “Maybe even a little off upstairs.”

Tia stared back, feeling exposed, laid open before him. When she said nothing, he went on.

“From what he tells me, you've had some issues in courtrooms lately. You ever think maybe that's why I might be getting a walk?”

Tia's mind reeled with anger and embarrassment. Her chin quivered involuntarily, pissing her off all the more.

Again came Kane's grin of satisfaction. “Don't cry, honey. Just know, you're gonna want to think long and hard about any further associations with me. That could end bad for you. Real bad. My personal opinion? Cute little gal like you, with all you've been through lately? You ought not to be out playing cops and robbers. You could end up on the wrong end of some serious shit. Again.”

The last word hit Tia hard. She remembered his hand over her mouth. The strength of his grip as he pushed her toward the van. The girl staring back at her. His weight on top of her. Tia's heart began to pound.

Kane stood, the chair groaning again as he moved. Tia half-expected it to snap into a half-dozen splintered pieces. The guard backed up three quick steps.

“I get it, Suarez. I'll bet you're taking a lot of shit from your cop buddies. You need to show everybody you still got it, right?” His voice deepened, growing even more firm. “Whatever it is you need to prove ain't gonna involve me. We're done. Go back to Newberg. Write some damn parking tickets or whatever, but leave this shit alone. You don't want any part of me.”

Kane glared at her, waiting for a response. Tia sat in frozen silence, as if her throat had somehow been clamped shut. She knew Kane sensed victory. Even the jail guard was smirking as if enjoying a rare chance to feel superior. Somewhere in the distance the shrill sound of an alarm signaled the beginning or end of some jailhouse routine. The guard gave the door three sharp raps.

When the door opened, Kane raised an eyebrow, but Tia was still incapable of speech. His smile grew wider as he turned and walked out, followed by his obedient escort. The door slammed shut and Tia sat alone in the small room, staring at nothing. Her fingers took up a new beat, drumming against the table, and her knee bounced hard underneath.

 

SEVEN

From the doorway Tia stole a look inside. Lit from behind by the midday sun, Ben Sawyer was turned away from her, staring at a framed photograph of his family that he held in two hands. Tia knew the picture well. She had taken it a few days after her return from Mexico. Ben and Alex had insisted she come by the house to see the new baby, Isabella.

The photo showed the whole Sawyer clan in the backyard of their Newberg home, with a backdrop of a perfect Wisconsin sunset. It was the last time Tia had visited the family. There were too many secrets between them now. Tia gave the doorframe a soft rap; Ben jerked slightly, startled, then turned quickly to face her. She stepped into the office.

“Excuse me, Chief. You wanted to see me?”

He was a near-perfect picture of professionalism: uniform pants sharply creased, boots and basket-weave belt polished to a black sheen. Only the snowy white T-shirt he wore detracted from his image—but a crisply pressed uniform shirt bearing a metal badge and four gold stars on the collar hung from the back of a chair, ready to be put on at a moment's notice.

His close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, his flat stomach, and the jagged scar that ran across his cheek gave Ben the appearance of a military commando more than a small-town police chief. Tia knew he was coming up on forty-five, but he looked like he could still outrun and outgun most of the cops on Newberg PD, though they averaged a little over half his age.

The first time Tia had seen Ben wearing the four stars of a chief, she'd jumped to her feet, given him a mock salute, and called him Patton. The half-dozen officers nearby had laughed and Tia had felt a pang of guilt at the sight of his embarrassed expression. But even now, as he offered her a tight but genuine-looking smile, she hoped some part of him was still happy to see her.

“Get in here.” His voice was laced with friendly sarcasm as he set the framed photo down on his desk. “You been dodging me?”

Tia navigated past half a dozen still-unpacked boxes as she cautiously entered the room. The office was too large for its current furnishings, but Ben had stripped away all reminders of the previous occupant. The mahogany bureau, the Italian leather desk chair, the fancy rug, and other opulent accessories were gone, replaced by a gray metal desk, two worn swivel chairs, and a new, cloth-covered couch. Practical items that spoke of dedication to the work.

The lingering stench of stale cigar smoke and a dozen empty wall hooks were all that remained of the man who had recently been evicted from the office of the Newberg Chief of Police, courtesy of Tia Suarez and Ben Sawyer. The sparsely decorated office represented a healing wound, one not yet scabbed over.

“Damn right,” Tia answered. “You're the chief now. I've got a reputation to look out for, you know? Rebel. Department rabble-rouser. That sort of thing.”

“True enough. I never liked spending time in the chief's office either. But now that I got you in here, take a seat. How are things?”

Tia remained standing. They had been friends once, but he was her boss and that was a boss's question. “Yeah, right, Ben. Like your phone didn't blow up with calls. Was it Kane's lawyer or did one of those jailhouse guards dime me off?”

She had to give the chief credit. He didn't shout. His voice was controlled. “Forget about who called. Fact is, you know better. The guy is represented by counsel. He's in custody. How is it you think you can walk into a jailhouse, in another county no less, and interrogate him?”

Tia hoisted herself onto the edge of Ben's desk and let her feet hang six inches above the carpet.

“Hey, the DA wants to kick him loose, why shouldn't I talk to him? No court proceedings. No charges. What the hell. I figured I might as well try to get something out of the guy before he walks.” She shrugged. “Somebody has to.”

She managed to sound flippant, hiding her guilty conscience, but Ben didn't take well to her tone. His smile vanished and he became all business.

“And you figured that was your decision? A case from another jurisdiction? Now this Patricia Graham woman tells me you threatened a prisoner with retaliation. She was so fired up she practically jumped through the phone.”

“
She
called?” Tia really hadn't expected that. “I swear. The nerve of that—” She looked down at her boots and stopped herself. Insulting the DA wouldn't help. “This should have been a prison case. She let the guy walk on a misdemeanor. After assaulting a cop. One of
your
cops. You telling me you're okay with that?”

It was Ben's turn to sound indignant. “Of course I'm not okay with it. But what you or I think doesn't matter. We don't file cases; lawyers do.”

“Are you kidding me?” Tia fumed. Her voice became a near shout. “Hell, I could win this case. If that lawyer—”

“That's enough!” Ben cut her off. “Tone it down. You were out of line with the prosecutor and you sure as hell were out of line by going to the jail. I'll say it again. This guy is represented by counsel. He's locked up. That means hands-off and you damn well know it.”

Tia stared at him as the silence became uncomfortable. She knew she had pushed past his limits and tried to regroup. “Jesus, Ben. This whole thing has been a mess from the beginning. I can't help but think if the operation had just gone better…”

When her voice trailed away, Ben answered, his tone a bit more reasonable, “I've been over all that with Jackson. It's over and done with.”

“Don't go blaming Jackson. Hell, I'm the one who wandered off camera.” Tia tried to shrug it off. “It was all good until it wasn't. You know how it is when you look back. Woulda, shoulda, coulda. We all came out okay, but I'm telling you, the case on Kane was solid. We had him on felony assault. There's no way he should be getting a pass.”

“Well, he is,” Ben said with a sigh. “You need to deal with it and that means no rogue visits to the jail to try to put a twist on the suspect. This case is
done
.”

He rubbed his hand against the deep scar that ran from the corner of his eye to his upper lip, giving his face the look of ill-fitted puzzle pieces.
Damn, we got some history,
she thought, remembering when he'd gotten that wound.
But now, it's like we're strangers. How did that happen?
She picked up on his frustration, something beyond Kane.
There's more to come,
she thought.

“I know I'm not operational anymore, Tia, but I have to say there is no way you should have been working U/C. If I had known about it, I would have put the whole thing down.”

“It wasn't a big deal,” she said, striving for lightness.

“It was too soon. You shouldn't have been out there. Jackson claims you talked him into it against his better judgment. Says you really pushed for this.”

“Yeah? What do you want, Ben? Cops who like sitting around, twiddling their thumbs, waiting for something to just fall into their laps?”

“You could've really gotten messed up.” She heard the concern in his voice.

“But I wasn't. It was nobody's fault, Ben. It was a one-in-a-million kind of thing. One second I'm talking to a john, and the next thing I know there's two of them and they're trying to force me into a van. That's where they had the—”

Tia stopped in mid-sentence as her grip slipped away from the girl's ankle. She felt the moist sweat on her hand. The van door slammed shut and sped from the lot. The sights and sounds of the event were as fresh as ever.

“That's the other thing,” Ben said. “About this girl you say was in the van.…”

The doubt in his voice made her strike back. “That I say was in the van? She was
there,
Ben. Tied up and gagged.”

He said nothing, watching her. Tia went on. “You think I made that up? Or what? That I imagined it somehow?”

Ben blew out a long breath. “Tia, doesn't this sound, I don't know, pretty damn familiar?”

“What?” Tia pushed herself off the desk. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. “What are you saying, Ben?”

“Look,” he said, sounding defensive and a little exasperated. “You've been through a lot, Tia. It's been a rough few months. I mean, think about what happened in the courtroom. Couldn't it be—”

Tia shook her head. She knew exactly what Ben was talking about—the experiences she'd had after being shot. But this wasn't the same. “Ben, there was a girl in the van. I know what I saw. Let me work on it. All we have to do is put a tail on Kane when he leaves the jail. I bet the dumb ass will take us right to her.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Ben gave Tia a look that said he knew who he was dealing with. “Listen to me on this, Detective. You're done nosing around this case. Newberg PD has zero jurisdiction here, not to mention the case is closed. This guy is walking and that's where it ends. From here on out, you stay away. Are we clear on that?”

Damn, this is frustrating,
she thought
.
On top of her having to sit through the lecture, her head was pounding from long nights of no real sleep. She'd snatched a few minutes here and there, but the face of the girl in the van had haunted her dreams as much as her waking hours.

How much longer could she keep this up? Maybe it was time to check out, head back down to Mexico. Her disability retirement pay would go a long way in Jalisco. Hell, maybe she could talk Connor into going.
Just the two of us. A beach in Mexico.
Ben's voice brought her back.

“So will you do that for me, Tia?”

“What? Sorry, what did you say?” Her mouth was suddenly dry as cotton and she craved the meds that had become part of her daily routine.

“I said, I think you need to talk this thing through with somebody who can help you deal with it.”

“I thought that's what we were doing right here,” Tia replied.

“I mean someone from outside the department.” Ben took a deep breath and went on, “I think you should go back to Dr. Gage.”

Tia shook her head, insulted. “I don't need any more shrinks. Especially him. I'm fine. I'm pissed, but I'll get over it.”

“Tia, you were attacked. It was a traumatic event. It may have triggered something from before.

“It was your first time out since coming back. Like I said, I blame myself. I shouldn't have let you go out this soon. But what's done is done. You need to debrief this with a professional. Someone who can help you deal with it.”

Tia stood up. “Well, like I said, thanks, but I'm not interested in getting my head shrunk anymore. I'm good with where I'm at.”

Ben took a deep breath and blew it out. “What makes you think I'm
asking,
Detective?”