Before I Wake (4 page)

“Bruce, go ahead,” Eileen said.

“Nathan?”

“I’m on.”

“Kyle’s made an appearance.” Bruce watched the denim-shirted man cross the parking lot and reach the entrance doors. Kyle opened a door and stood there scanning the inside of the building. The door slammed against the frame as he went in. “I’m at the bus depot. We’re going to have some trouble here.”

“I’m on the way.”

“Keep Chet away.”

“I’ve got him assigned on the east side of town.”

Bruce retrieved his oversize gym bag. He slung the bag over his shoulder and headed into the bus depot. Ex-husbands gave cops and PIs nightmares. He wasn’t interested in making it a fair fight if he had to stand between Laura and the man.

The bus on the way to Milwaukee pulled out, belching diesel exhaust. Now if all the civilians would get out of the way and the security here didn’t shoot the wrong guy, maybe he’d be able to finally mark one case off his whiteboard list this month.

* * *

Nathan silenced the sirens and threw his squad car into park beside Bruce’s blue Caprice, reaching to open the door even as his seat belt released. A crowd of adults at the east side of the bus-depot building surged back and two men spilled out into the gravel parking lot, locked in struggle. They crashed into the newspaper stands and trash canisters, sending cigarette butts and fine white sand bursting into the air. “55-J, 10-97, requesting two more units, Code 2.”

“10-4.”

Nathan spotted a deputy at the bus-depot doorway providing a buffer for the lady watching the fight. Laura’s arms were wrapped around her chest and her face was pale; she looked scared, but at least not bruised this time. Bruce had done his job; Kyle had not gotten near her.

A wildly thrown fist caught Bruce in the mouth. Nathan winced. “Move back, people. Let me through.” Bruce had a former cop’s instincts and experience, but Kyle had height and weight and mean on his side: the fight was coming out a draw.

Nathan chose his point of contact to take Kyle’s feet out from under him. It was like kicking steel, but the man went down. Bruce seized the moment of advantage and pinned the man with a knee in his back. Nathan pulled out his handcuffs and secured a hold on Kyle’s left wrist to lock them on. “Welcome home, Kyle. We’ve been looking for you.”

“She ain’t marrying him; I ain’t having my kids raised by no black.”

Nathan brought Kyle back to his feet with a jerk. Laura was marrying one of his best officers. “She can marry whoever she likes, and you’ve got a court order not to come around and be harassing her.”

“She’s mine. You hear that, Laura? You’re mine! I’ll be out in hours and back here.”

“Not this time. The judge is learning.”

Squealing tires braked hard as a squad car came to a stop. Nathan saw Chet surge from the car. “Stop him!” He forced Kyle to turn, putting his own body between the two men. There hadn’t been a murder in Justice in six years and Nathan didn’t intend one of his officers to be the next one accused.

Bruce moved to cut Chet off.

“Get out of my way; he was warned about coming around here,” Chet ordered.

“Sorry, buddy.” Bruce kept himself in Chet’s way in a dance of bodies bordering on shoving.

“Back off, Chet,” Nathan ordered.

“You aren’t marrying her, you hear me! I’ll bury you first.”

Nathan physically muscled Kyle back. It was like shoving a brick wall. Racist and stupid seemed to go together; Chet would bury Kyle in a fight. Two more squad cars pulled into the parking lot and officers poured out of the cars to help. They separated the men by sheer numbers.

Ignoring the venom spewing from Kyle, Nathan handed him off. “Get him downtown.” Nathan turned to Chet. His officer had backed off two steps, but he still looked ready for an opportunity to finish this with his fists. “Take Laura back inside and stay with her; I’ll need her statement. She needs a jacket if she’s going to be out here,” Nathan ordered.

Chet didn’t immediately move. Laura tugged at his arm. His officer finally nodded and wrapped his arm around his fiancée to take her inside.

Nathan knew it was a temporary reprieve. If he didn’t get Kyle put away for a long time, next time might not be so controlled an ending. Chet had seen Laura bruised too many times to risk letting Kyle get close to her again. And Kyle was the kind of guy who would shoot a cop in the back if he thought he could get away with it. This situation was a mess.

Nathan turned his attention to Bruce. “I’ll get a statement from Laura first; then I want to hear yours.”

“No problem. The file is at my office. He got vocal when he saw the wedding announcement and I’ve got it on tape. He made good on his threat. The DA can get it to stick this time.”

“Let’s hope you’re right; I thought we had enough last time. Did you enjoy going back undercover?”

“Not particularly. Kyle hangs around some bars that give bars a bad name.”

Nathan offered Bruce a handkerchief. “You might want to find a clean shirt before you head to your office. You’ve got a new lady client looking for you.”

Bruce’s look turned skeptical. “I took this domestic case as a favor; I’m not interested in making it a habit.”

“I doubt if it’s a domestic case; she looked self-assured enough to take care of herself. I’d tell you what I know but you’re a man who enjoys a surprise.”

Bruce touched his lip. “Go talk to Laura while I clean this up. You owe me a steak dinner seeing as how the department can’t afford my bill.”

“I’ll make it a thick one,” Nathan promised. The rumbling of buses told him he was in danger of witnesses leaving before they were interviewed; he slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Thanks for the help. I’ll catch up with you at the agency.” He turned back to the task at hand.

* * *

Rae slid the key card for room 3723 through the lock and heard it click as the light turned green. She turned the handle and used her foot to push open the door. Elbowing her way into the room with her two suitcases, briefcase, and can of soda tucked under her elbow, she cleared the doorway and dropped the bags to catch the soda before it fell.

Two queen-size beds took up the majority of the room. There were a desk in a corner and a small couch, two chairs, a small table, and a large TV able to turn to face either section of the room. The bland decorating in greens and blues would eventually get on her nerves, but there was a complimentary fruit basket on the table and a set of towels with a ribbon around them on the dresser beside a pool pass. The hotel staff had done what they could to make it welcoming.

“Home sweet home,” she whispered to herself and got down to the business of unpacking. It would be home for a while; she was in no hurry to settle on more permanent living arrangements until the house out east sold. She turned down the thermostat dial on the unit under the window.

It looked like the hotel was one of the tallest buildings in town. The town had a symmetrical square look to it as the roads extended into nearby neighborhoods. In the near distance the bell tower of the church she’d passed marked downtown. She rested her hand on the window glass.

The distraction of the journey and the trip back to Illinois were over, and the weight of the stillness in the room around her began to press in. With the silence and stop came the resurgence of painful emotions simmering just below the surface. Hundreds of miles hadn’t changed the weight of the memories. There were days when peace with all that had happened in the past year seemed impossible to find. “Jesus, I need hope back,” she whispered.

The last undercover investigation had turned terribly wrong. She’d accused an innocent man of murder and now he was dead. That others in the agency had been convinced he was guilty too didn’t ease the pain or change the outcome. She’d been so certain Mark was guilty, so sure of the truth—and it had all been a lie.

The pain wasn’t new, the self-doubt. She’d failed. It made her wonder about every decision now.
I just want the pain to end, Lord.

Rae turned away from the window. It felt like the rest of her life was going to be restitution for something she still didn’t know how she could have prevented.

Eventually the memories would fade, but they were raw now, and quick to reappear in the silent slices of her life. Filling that silence in the days ahead would be a matter of survival she thought, and the idea of burying herself back in work of some kind was a welcome one, for the silence would be her own judge and jury if she gave it space.

She tossed pillows against the headboard and picked up the phone, determined to start filling in the blanks of her new life. While she listened to it ring, she opened her soda and then stretched the phone cord and picked up her briefcase. Her cousin answered.

“Frank, it’s Rae. I’m in the state. I stopped off at Justice.”

“It’s good to hear your voice and have you nearly home.”

“I think I’ll settle in here and talk to Bruce first, before I come up to see your dad. Is Matt around?”

“You just missed him. A guy used a shotgun to kill his boss before turning it on himself; it’s an awful mess. The cops are releasing the scene this afternoon. I’m just finishing packing up the van to go join him. Want me to have him call you?”

“Sure.” She pulled over the phone to read off the direct number. “If we end up playing phone tag, just let him know I’ll be there for dinner Monday as planned.”

“I will. It will be good to see you, Rae.”

“Same here. I’ll see you soon, Frank.”

Rae hung up the phone. A murder/suicide. Working with her uncle even part time was going to be a heavy task.

She thought about a nap but the desire for a good meal was stronger. She pocketed her keys, license, and cash and headed out to explore her new town.

4

The Chapel Detective Agency II was quiet, the receptionist desk empty. Nathan followed Bruce down the back hall. His friend retrieved the phone slips tucked in the doorframe, unlocked his office, and turned on the lights inside. “Come on in. I’ll find the tape of Kyle shooting his mouth off about what he was going to do.”

Nathan dropped his jacket across the chair. “I guess I was wrong about the prospective client. Or is one of those phone slips from a lady?”

Bruce picked up the note on his desk and smiled. “Relax. She’s been here. And she’s not a client.”

“Rae Gabriella?”

“Yes.”

Nathan stretched out on the couch, avoiding the one hard spring that tended to dig into his left shoulder, and wished he had twenty minutes to close his eyes and catch a catnap. It was hard to set aside the job and stretch out on the couch in his own office when the men he commanded were right outside his door.

“If she’s not a client, who is she?” Nathan remembered blue eyes and a nice voice and long dark hair pulled back by a silver ribbon. The clothes had been expensive, and the wristwatch high priced. The lady struck him as a bit above both of them for class.

“An old friend and hopefully my new partner. I need your help to move the last of the boxes out of the next room and up to the attic. It’s going to be her office.”

Nathan lifted his head to turn and look at his friend. “You’re serious?” He hadn’t seen this ground shift coming. “When did you start thinking about a partner?”

“About the time I took the case for Mrs. Breck and stood out like a sore thumb trying to keep track of her attending the women’s bridge club meetings. Rae’s a good cop; she’ll be an asset to this place.” Bruce slid his hand into a sided file folder and pulled out a small cassette tape. “Kyle’s eloquence, captured for all to hear.”

Nathan accepted the tape and the report, wishing Bruce would stay on the subject of Rae Gabriella a while longer. “How’s the tape quality?”

“I was wearing a mike in a crowded bar. The conversation is buried in the mud, but it’s there. A competent sound guy should be able to clean it up.” Bruce wiped the case off his whiteboard.

Nathan read the report, wishing his own officers were as concise in what they wrote. Bruce had identified Kyle’s new job, residence, and drinking buddies and done it with swift efficiency. When you could pay for information, life did get simpler. Not for the first time Nathan wondered if being a private investigator was as liberating as it appeared to be from the outside.

“Rae will need a carry permit.”

Nathan glanced up from the report. “It will take some time.”

“I’d appreciate it if you would expedite it.”

“Any particular reason? Is there trouble you know about?”

“She’s been working for the FBI for longer than I care to think about and with that innocent-looking face of hers, most of the time has been spent working undercover. I’d rather not take chances. Rae’s kind of like your grandfather; she keeps her own counsel. I’ll get you her prints and background paperwork and her last shooting qualification date.”

“That will help. I’ll see what I can do,” Nathan promised. He studied the whiteboard. “Speaking of my grandfather, has anything turned up?”

“No.”

“He bought that car for cash; it had to come from somewhere. There isn’t a life-insurance policy that got cashed in or some bonds?”

“Not that I can find. Why don’t you just ask him where the money came from?”

“I have. He says, ‘Sonny, you should mind your own business.’”

Bruce smiled. “Annoying, isn’t it? I’ll keep looking. I think the car dealer knows more than what he’s saying, and I’ll eventually find something I can use as leverage to get him to tell me what he knows.”

“I hate spying on family.”

“Which is why you have me.” Bruce picked up the phone. “I’m going to track Rae down. Do you want to join us for a late lunch?”

Nathan looked at the clock and groaned, then sat up. “I’d love to, but I’m pressed for time. I was supposed to be somewhere ten minutes ago.”

“I’ll tell her you said hello.”

“Do that.” Nathan tugged on his coat. “I gave her a speeding ticket the first time I met her.”

“How bad?”

“Sixty-five.”

“She’ll get over it.”

That was easy for Bruce to say. Nathan enjoyed working with Bruce, even if they did sometimes find themselves at cross purposes when a police investigation and one of Bruce’s client’s interests overlapped. Nathan thought he’d enjoy working with Rae too if given the chance, but he was hardly off to a good start with her. “What hotel is she staying at?”