Jump The Line (Toein' The Line Book 1) (51 page)

“
Or trying to get to Megalo Don before we do
,”
SAC Smith says
,“
so she can flush him out and save her brother
.
”

The SAC is one damn perceptive man.  His remark sends cold chills up my spine.
 “
Do me a favor, sir, will you?  Do
n’
t just call Alaina.  Go find her
.
”

I nod my thanks and then give him Levi
n’
s campus address.  Like I said, the SA
C’
s perceptive.
 “
Sh
e’
s more than Megal
o’
s next victim to you, is
n’
t she
?”
he asks.

“
Much more
,”
I admit.
 “
Can you also run by Doctor Verbot
e’
s?  I doubt sh
e’
ll show up, but she works there.  She might check in
.
”

“I’
ll do what I can, Detective Hawks.  Call me if you learn anything. 
I’
ll do likewise
.
” 

Syncing mine and SAC Smit
h’
s watches, and making sure h
e’
s got my cell number, I go find my Buick and set my GPS for Goshen.

Chapter 45

              Before I finish my check-in at the Goshen flea bag, Wes calls.

“
Buddy, ho
w’
d you put up with her
?
”

“
Who
?
”  

“
Your rook, DeeDee Laws.  She dumped me, Hawks.  Did
n’
t say a word.  Just disappeared.  Did she do that shit with you
?
”

Thumbing through the anemic phone book on the bed stand, thinking about We
s
’ problem, I locate one B. Colby.
 “
No
,”
I say.
 “I’
m not getting in the middle of your tiff with DeeDee.  You and I both know the reason sh
e’
s gone MIA
.
”

She wants the Megalo Don collar, and thinks sh
e’
s better off going after him on her own, without Wes. 
I’
ve seen rookies like this before: gung ho, to their detriment.

“
I came out of the meeting.  I could
n’
t fucking find her.  Been looking all over for her.  You got any idea where she might be?  Captai
n’
s all over my ass
.
”

Shaking my head, I try to imagine where DeeDee coul
d’
ve gone.
 “
Sorry, Tiger, but she was supposed to go with you to interview Squea
l
—”

“
Yeah, yeah, I know, but trust me, sh
e’
s
not
sweating him.  I called Cinci PD and checked.  She has
n’
t been there.  They cut him loose already.  Nothing to hold him on
.
”

Shit.
  For a heartbeat, I second guess myself.  Should I have fought to keep DeeDee from shooting herself in the foot in the meeting?  What if
I’
m wrong, coming to Goshen instead of checking out Jane Do
e’
s mouth at the morgue?  Ther
e’
s always the possibility Squeal knows more than h
e’
s telling NPD.  H
e’
s a friend of Robin Colb
y’
s.  That connection is starting to unnerve me.  I
t’
s possible Robin put the Jane Do
e’
s shoulder in Alain
a’
s freezer, possible Squea
l’
s his accomplice, and trying to save his ass by ratting out Robin, an unwitting partner.

Is it possible
I’
m wrong?

Nah, Squeal ca
n’
t be Megalo Don, either.  I shake my head.  Wondering where DeeDee is, I offer Wes my best advice.
 “
Sorry, Tiger, but
I’
ve no idea.  Sh
e’
s damn well not with me
.
”

“
Probably got her nose shoved up the captai
n’
s ass
,”
Wes growls.

I’
m tempted to agree, but I ca
n’
t cut DeeDee loose, not just yet.  Sh
e’
s got potential.
 “
No, sh
e’
s not with him
,”
I say, certain sh
e’
s heading straight to Stoke Farre
l’
s off-campus apartment, a fact I share with Wes.
 “
She wants the collar so bad she can taste it
.
”

“
Like sh
e’
s got a snowbal
l’
s chance
,”
Wes says.
 “
Bitch
.
”

“
Be patient, Tig.  Sh
e’
s a rookie, but sh
e’
s also NPD.  She deserves the chance to earn our respect.  W
e’
ve all made our mistakes
,”
I add.  Thinking how true this is in my case, I boot up my laptop and use Google Earth to locate B. Colb
y’
s address from the phone book.

“
You got spare time while you look for your partner
?”
I ask Wes, locating the Colby manse on Google maps.

“
I thought about going home and doing Delila
h
—”

“
Tig, I need you to do me another favor
,”
I interrupt.  Some of his lunch hour delights with Delilah are more information than I need at the moment.

“
The
y’
re adding up, Hawks.  At some point, you better be willing to repay. . .
.
”

“
Sure, Tig.  Brews at any watering hole you want.  You pick
.
”

I tell him what I need, and do
n’
t even bother denying it when Wes says
,“
Damn, bro, you got it bad for Alaina Colby, do
n’
t you
?
”

“
Just get to Stoke Farre
l’
s.  I sent SAC Smith over, but I need you to go back him up.  While yo
u’
re visiting Stoke, see if Alain
a’
s there
.
”

“
What if she is?  What do I do with her if I find her
?
”

Good question. 

“
I need her to call me
,”
I say.  I need to hear her voice and know sh
e’
s okay, yet
I’
ve no idea how to answer, short of telling Wes to abduct her. 
I’
m the last person Alaina will listen to at this point.  I search my brain.  What can I do to get her to call me? 

“
Her
e’
s what you do, Tig
,”
I finally say.
 “
Tell her I ca
n’
t pick her up tonight after work becaus
e
—”

I stop.  Hellfire, what am I thinking?  She wo
n’
t go to work.  I do
n’
t know her yet, but I know her well enough to know sh
e’
s out looking for her brother or Angie Mille
r’
s killer.  For a second, I feel sorry for Megalo if she catches him.

“
Rookie Laws was right.  Yo
u’
re involved with her
,”
Wes says.

“
Alaina would
n’
t call it that, exactl
y
”
—
or I do
n’
t think she woul
d
—
“
but le
t’
s just say I do
n’
t want anything happening to her, Tiger, alright?  Can we leave it there?  Until I can unload on your shoulders over a couple of brews
?
”

Listening as he sorts through what
I’
m telling him about Megalo having Alaina in his sights, I can almost see Wes chewing his toothpick, wading through facts.

“I’
ve got it
,”
I say.
 “
Tell her
I’
m in Goshen, at her mothe
r’
s place looking for her brother, Robin.  Tha
t’
ll piss her off so badly sh
e’
ll call me
.
”

Wes laughs.
 “
Get back to work you love sick dog
.
”

I write down Berta Colb
y’
s address and phone number, stashing my laptop on the little round wooden table by the bed.  Then I call the motel operator.
 “
Hey, buddy, I do
n’
t want to be disturbed or have my room cleaned
.
”

“
Yeah, whatever
,”
he says.
 “
Custome
r’
s always right
.
”

“
You got that straight?  This room is my bunker, ground zero, and
I’
m working a homicide, so hear me when I say I do
n’
t want anything in here disturbed
.
”

His tone gets respectful fast.
 “
Yes, sir
.
”

I intend to hunker down and find out everything I can about Stoke Farre
l’
s childhood stint in Goshen.  If
I’
m right,
I’
m going to nail Megal
o’
s ass.

But what if
I’
m wrong? 

Telling myself not to go there again, to stop second guessing myself, I head out.

Ten minutes later, I turn onto a side road off the main highway, drive the mile until I find the railroad tracks, and then take the road that leads to the subdivision where Berta Colby lives.  The are
a’
s mostly rural. 
I’
m still inside the Goshen city limits, but cornfields on either side of the road whiz by, the gray monotony of last yea
r’
s crops broken by tracts of modular housing. 

The yards are small lots, but the
y’
re lined with mature trees.  I
t’
s not suburbia, but
I’
m guessing the setting provides healthy outdoor living for kids growing up here.  I can see Alaina as a girl, playing ball, a tom boy. 

Leaving this section and driving, I start seeing trailers with cars up on blocks and pit bulls tied in the yards, muddied from April thaws.  The farther I drive, the grimmer the neighborhood gets, giving me a clearer picture of Alain
a’
s childhood.  It was
n’
t idyllic, but whatever about this grim bare place shaped her, made her who she is today,
I’
m good with that. 
I’
ve watched my mother work with inner city youth, the ones wh
o’
ll eventually get to perform in the refurbished Hawk
s
’ Opera House, so I understand.  Alain
a’
s had it rough growing up.  Her mothe
r’
s and her brothe
r’
s rap sheets point to a home environment that woul
d’
ve traumatized most young girls, much less one as sensitive and gifted as Alaina.

I pull into the driveway, avoiding potholes, and get out and look around.

Someon
e’
s home.  I see hands pulling aside the curtain at the trailer window, a face peering out and then quickly disappearing. 

Stepping carefully past the big pit bull lunging against the bounds of a tractor chain, I head for the traile
r’
s front steps.  If that dog gets loose,
I’
ll have no choice but to shoot him.  Tha
t’
ll rack me up another black mark with the Colbys.

* * *

              Alaina always says
,“
Stoke, your apartmen
t’
s the Ritz
.
”

What a joke. 
I’
d laugh, but
I’
m busy watching the leggy blonde babe play keystone cop.  I laugh at my own jokes.  Why not? 
I’
m good at them.  They say mockery is the highest form of flattery.

              Although I do
n’
t feel much like flattering the bitch scouring my apartment.

              I put my eye to the peephole and zoom in for a better view, for yet another good laugh.  Wha
t’
s she thinking? 

Shhh.  Do
n’
t want the mean o
l
’ perp to know
I’
m here.

I’
m close enough I can reach out and touch her, stupid thing, and she does
n’
t even know.  In the silence, in the dark, behind a soundproof door she does
n’
t want to open, I watch her put her hands on the wall.  I put mine in the same spot on my side and laugh.  Then I gaze at her image on the cheap surveillance camera I installed.