Death on the Sound (8 page)

    
I was awakened with a kiss and a bit more,
which was certainly much better than my alarm clock. After we both extracted
pleasure from the other, we started to get ready for work. This was one time I
was glad I had two sinks. Since, my makeup is on in ten minutes, I was done and
ready to dress before Maya. I watched her for a moment marveling at how
beautiful she was. She turned and smiled.

    
“If you keep ogling me, you’ll never get to
work.”

    
“We all have our little pleasures in life,
I’m just enjoying mine.”

I
leaned over, kissed her breast, and then a quick kiss to her lips to seal the
deal. I dressed and had breakfast on the table when Maya came down the stairs.

    
“I like this breakfast arrangement. Do you
hire out?” she smiled at me.

    
“Only for sexy Indonesian women, but I’m
already spoken for, I think.”

She
walked up to me with her bright smile on high and gave my butt a squeeze as she
sat down.

    
“I think you are too.”

We
ate, and I told her about my upcoming trip the next day. She was sad that I’d
be gone, but soon perked up when the promise of a weekend dinner to pay her
back for her Chinese pickup was in the offing.

    
With breakfast dishes in the washer, we
both headed for our respective offices.
   

    
“I’ll call you tonight, okay Maya?”

    
“I should be home about seven thirty. Be
careful on the road please.”

    
“My safe driving techniques are legend at
the precinct.”

I
smiled my biggest smile, and gave her one last kiss before she buckled up.”

    
“You’re such a bullshit artist, aren’t
you?”

    
“Now that hurt.”

I
clutched my breast and hung my head. It was good enough acting to get a chuckle
from Maya.

I
waved to a flapping arm outside her side window as the security gate lifted for
her exit. As I sat on the packed bus, I thought about Maya, and where we were
going with all this. I had to admit I was more than slightly committed to her,
and I was sure she liked me more than just a little. I’d always tried not to
get too tied down with my partners, male or female. But I had to admit Maya was
a bit different. What started out as lust for her beauty turned into something
a bit deeper. I knew she was serious, but hell we’d only been on one, well two
dates if you count the Chinese take-out, but we’d also been out many times over
the past two to three years, though not as serious as we were now. I did feel
comfortable with her, and we talked about everything when we were together. I
just needed more time to figure it all out.

    
I walked in to find Tom busy researching
the names and dates involved around the death of Tully McBain.

    
“Morning Tom, what was for dinner last
night? I kept you out pretty late, I’m sorry.”

    
“Hey, it’s our job, and I had two Talapia
and a salad. I was so good; I think I heard angels in the background serenading
me as I ate.”

    
“Jeez, I can’t take this too much longer.
Do you sit around and catalogue these pitiful pieces of crap in your spare
time?”

    
“No, they’re just spur of the moment bits
of wisdom.”

We
closed up Desiree’s case in the morning, and sent the package to the DA. I took
Tom out for lunch because I felt guilty for not feeding him the day before. We
met with the DA, Jamison McCord, and talked about what we could offer Tate for
his testimony if he decided to work with us. There were no guarantees. We got
back to the precinct, and I Googled the driving time to Walla Walla and found
out it was only a little over four hours.

    
“Hey, Tom it’s only a little over four
hours to Walla Walla. I think we can do it in a day. How about you drive down,
and I’ll drive back or we can switch half way each way?”

    
“Yeah, I’d rather do a day trip than stay
overnight. I hate motels.”

    
“Okay, its four fifteen. I’ll make sure
we’ve got a car ready by six, and we’ll get on the road and be down there by
ten thirty. Of course, the way you drive maybe ten.”

    
“Okay, smart ass go check on the car, and
I’ll see you in the morning at six, and I’ll drive first.”

Tom
waved back at me over his shoulder as he flipped his jacket over the other. I
packed the information we’d compiled in my briefcase, and rode the elevator
down to the garage. I had to fib a slight bit to make sure I got the best road
car. I told the young recruit cop that I was driving the chief to Yakima for a
meeting, and the chief didn’t want a piece of crap car.

    
I rode the bus home and walked in the door
at five oh five, to be greeted by Felix the wonder cat in full point for his
dinner. I was followed upstairs and listened to a constant serenade of meows
the entire time. With my uniform of shorts and T-shirt on, I was given a one cat
escort downstairs to the Felix’s feeding station. Five minutes later, all that
could be heard was smacking and chomping. Felix was not a pretty eater.

    
I went through the mail and threw most of
it in recycle and then poured a glass of wine and sat on my deck. It wasn’t
raining which is all it takes to beckon me outdoors. As I sat sipping my wine
and watching the lights come on around the lake, Felix jumped on the bench next
to me licking and cleaning for all he was worth. Its nights like this that I
like where I live. Sure it’d be nice to have it seventy degrees and calm, but
look where you’d have to go to get it. Earthquake or tornado country; no thanks
I’ll just stay here.

    
Felix and I fixed dinner, his was already
gone. He is a growing cat after all. After dinner and the dishes were packed in
the washer, I looked at the clock. It was seven fifteen. I locked up and went
upstairs to watch some mindless TV until I’d call Maya. It was a bad idea. I
fell asleep and woke up at ten. I reached for the phone immediately and punched
in her number. It rang three times, and she came on.

    
“In case you thought I’d been mugged you
can cancel the 911 call. Sorry but I fell asleep, it was the cat’s fault, he
let me lay down after dinner.”

    
“I’m glad to hear the BS artist is still
alive and well. It would have been a sorry end to what has been a very good
day.”

    
“What happened? Did you get a raise?” Did
you find a gold bar in a dead body, what?”

    
“Well, I was told in strictest confidence
that Doctor Roundtree has decided to retire, and he’s recommending me for his
job. With his letter of recommendation, I’m almost assured of becoming the new
ME of King County.”

    
“God, that’s great kiddo, when is all of
this supposed to take place?”

    
“He’s going to leave in July sometime, but
the handoff will be before then, so I can get up to speed. The exact date is
still floating around out there.”

    
“I’m so happy for you Maya. This is good
news. I assume this is what you wanted?”

    
“Yes, but I had no idea it would happen
this soon. I’m sort of nervous Abby.”

    
“Just think positive Maya, you can do the
job just fine.”

I
didn’t want to tell her that I would probably return Wednesday evening I was
hoping to surprise her.

    
“Abby, have a safe trip, okay?”

    
“I’ll be fine Maya. I’ll see you when I get
back.”

There
was a long pause, like maybe she was going to say something more but it passed
and we both hung up. I felt somehow cheated. There was going to be an ending,
but it never came.

All
our lunches and dinners together and our past week that had moved our platonic
friendship to something much deeper between us had me fumbling for words. I’d
been hoping for months that Abby would show me how she felt. I wanted to, but
the shyness that had been with me all my life was not letting me tell her how I
felt. I felt guilty that I was making Abby take the lead. No one should be the
leader we should be side by side in this.

    
I was up early and caught the five thirty
to the precinct. I had the car warmed up for Tom by the time he arrived with
his bag of healthy snacks in hand.

    
“Morning Tom, I see you’re prepared for
your road trip.”

    
“Yeah, I was up at four this morning
putting this together. I even made enough for the two of us.”

    
“Thanks Tom, you’re a real Martha Stewart.”

I
smiled over at him as he got behind the wheel, and set his bag of goodies in
the backseat.

    
“Bite me Abby”

I laughed loudly as the tires squealed and we shot out
of the police garage for Mercer Island and points east. We passed through
Issaquah and on through the Cascades. The roads were plowed, but the snow rose
up from the side of the road like a white blanket. We sped through Ellensburg,
Yakima, Richland and finally into Walla Walla. We’d come from the deep snow to
the desert and farm country of eastern Washington. The land was flat and rolling;
perfect for crops and livestock.

    
We pulled into the prison parking area, and
spotted the corner brick tower with its enclosed guard station at the top. It
was an impressive structure, and I was hoping we could make Tate do the right
thing. Our name was on the check-in, and the warden was buzzed to retrieve us
from the guard shack. He arrived quickly, and after introductions we started to
the meeting area.

    
“So Mr. Powell what kind of a prisoner has
Tate been?” I asked.

    
“Call me Chuck, please. He’s been as they say
a model prisoner. We weren’t sure what to expect when he arrived. His
reputation had preceded him.”

    
“Has he gotten in with any of the gangs
inside?”

    
“Not really, that’s one thing about being
six five and two eighty, people tend to leave you alone.”

Chuck
escorted us into our meeting room and was told the guard would bring Tate in
shortly.

    
“Do know what you’re going to say to this
guy Abby?” asked Tom.

    
“Not really. I’ll just layout the scene,
and tell him what we’d like him to do, that’s all.”

We
heard the gates clanking from way down the long hall that we’d just walked down.
We both tracked the progress as the sound got closer. Tate finally came into
view, and the sheer size of him was, indeed, awesome. He had chains on his
wrists and on his feet. He looked like a giant bear that captivity had broken,
and he was just along for the ride. He saw us and stared the entire time as he
was moved into his chair.

    
“Could you please take his cuffs off?” I
said to the guard.

    
“That’s against procedure detective,” he
replied.

    
“Please remove them.”

I
stared at the guard trying to have a mind meld moment like on Star Trek. Tate
turned his head up to the guard, and held out his shackled hands. The guard
sighed and unlocked the cuffs.

    
“You better hope you don’t piss him off, or
you may regret your decision.”

    
“He’ll be just fine.”

Tate
sat rubbing his wrists and turned his steely gaze back to Tom and me, mostly me,
and uttered his first word.

    
“Thanks.”

    
“We’re here for a friendly conversation. We
might was well be as comfortable as we can.”

    
“It must be awful important for you to
drive all the way from Seattle to see little ole’ me?”

    
“It is Tate. What the hell is your first
name? I feel odd using your last name.”

He
looked at me for a long time and finally responded.

    
“Francis.”

    
“So, is Francis okay with you or are we
back to Tate?”

    
“Francis if fine, in here, but let’s not
advertise it outside this room, okay?”

    
“Mum’s the word Francis.”

 
   
I
went through our whole story, and recounted the night by the pool where Sharon
had seen Francis standing behind Gino Canutillo as he shot Tully McBain. I then
launched into how Francis came to be sitting across from me in this fine
establishment. Namely that one Gino Canutillo had sacrificed Francis to the
cops to save his own hide, and how we wanted him for killing Sharon and McBain,
but the evidence for Sharon was not going to pan out. If he would give us a
signed statement about Gino’s involvement in Tully’s murder, we’d get his sentence
reduced from twenty five to five. He’d already done seven as it was. I argued
like hell to get the number as low as it was. I really wanted Gino behind bars,
and if I made the deal sweet enough he might just take it.

    
I had stopped talking, and we were waiting
for Francis to answer. His eyes never left mine, and I stared right back, not
wanting to look away and show any fear or worse yet that I was not giving him
the whole story. His shaved head was damp with sweat as he continued to look at
me.

    
“I don’t know you from Adam. How do I know
I can trust you?” he said, shifting in his chair.

    
“Look Francis, you either believe me or you
don’t. I do this job because I like helping people who’ve been wronged, hurt,
swindled, or even killed. I enjoy putting the bad guys in jail. I know you’ve
had your share of scrapes with the law, but you’re not a killer. The deck was
stacked against you, and here you are paying the bill for someone else’s crime.
I’m here to try and correct that, but I need you to stand on your hind legs,
get pissed, and tell your story like it should be told.”

Again,
we sat looking at each other. I felt the four cups of coffee I’d had in the car
suddenly screaming to get out. I hoped this didn’t take too much longer, or I
could very well embarrass myself.

    
“I saw the fucker kill Sharon too. I drove
him to the market site the night he did it.”

    
“So you’ll do it Francis?”

    
“Yeah, I’ve had enough of this crap. I
didn’t have a way, or the money to get a fancy lawyer to work with me. I might
as well work with you, besides I’d rather look at you than some ugly lawyer
dude.”

    
We spent the next two hours with Francis as
he wrote out the details of that he’d been a party to and what he’d seen. When
he was done he’d written fifty three pages. While he was writing I was
relieving myself. I even had a spring in my step, as I relieved Tom so he could
get his spring back too. At the end of our long day, with a typed, signed, and
notarized statement, I stood next to Francis as they were getting ready to put the
cuffs back on. He looked at me and then at the guards and then took me into the
hug of all hugs. I felt his rock hard body pressing against mine, and his
steely arms clinched around my back. He broke the hug, kissed me on the cheek,
and made his last statement before we left.

    
“Thanks detective.”

He
was actually smiling as the cuffs were clicked shut over his wrists, and the
guards started him on his long walk back to his cell.

    
Tom and I left town in a hurry. It was
Tom’s turn to drive since I’d taken over in the morning, and drove the leg from
Ellensburg to Walla Walla. I napped as the countryside sped by my window, and
Tom snacked on carrots and celery. We came over the rise on Mercer Island and
saw the line of cars exiting Seattle heading toward us. We were both glad we
were going in the opposite direction. It would be almost nine that night before
traffic would thin out although I’m not sure traffic ever thins out in Seattle.
I pulled into the police garage, and Tom headed for his car as I headed upstairs
to put my briefcase away and called Jamison.