King City (27 page)

“If that’s true,” Charlotte said, “then you shouldn’t have gone to the towers alone.”

“It was the only way,” Wade said.

“You mean it was the only way for
you
,” she said.

“You just had to blow up Timo’s ride,” Billy said.

Wade shrugged. “It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

“What do you have against cars?” Billy asked.

“Nothing,” Wade replied.

“C’mon, Sarge, you’ve been trashing them, shooting them, and blowing them up since you got here,” Billy said. “Did a car run over your dog or something when you were a kid?”

“I’ve only blown up one car,” Wade said.

“And you smashed your own with a tire iron,” Charlotte said.

“He did?” Billy said.

“Right out there on the street. Pete told me,” Charlotte said. “There’s definitely some psychological issue at work here.”

“It will give you something to think about at home,” Wade said and stood up. “Get out of here, both of you. We’re done.”

“Technically, my shift hasn’t started yet,” Charlotte said.

“And mine isn’t over,” Billy said.

“We’re taking the night off,” Wade said.

“What if something comes up?” Charlotte said.

“Nothing will,” he said.

“Duke Fallon could come gunning for you,” Billy said.

“He might,” Wade said. “But not tonight.”

He looked past them to see Mandy coming in the front door, holding a stack of three pie cartons.

“Dad and I thought you guys could use something sweet after what you’ve been through today,” Mandy said. “There’s a pie here for each of you.”

Wade wondered what the fascination was with pies in Darwin Gardens. They seemed to be a big part of the local culture. Between Duke, Mandy, Pete, and Mrs. Copeland, pie did heavy duty as a panacea, a metaphor, a token of affection, and even a currency of sorts.

“Thank you,” Charlotte said and took a carton off the top. “That’s very kind.”

She headed off and Billy stepped up, taking the next carton off Mandy’s hands.

“I’ve heard that your apple pie is an aphrodisiac,” he said.

“I wouldn’t know,” Mandy said. “I’ve never needed the assistance.”

“I’ll take every edge I can get,” Billy said, nodded his thanks to Mandy, and left.

That left Wade and Mandy alone with their pie. She held the carton out to him.

“What about you, big guy?” she asked. “Do you need some help in that department?”

Wade stepped past her, closed the door, and locked it. Then he came up behind her, cupped her breasts in his hands, and whispered his intentions in her ear, all the things he’d wanted to do to her the other morning. She dropped the carton on a desk and leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“No,” she said, her voice husky in his ear. “You don’t need it.”

____

Tom Wade’s second week in Darwin Gardens was far less eventful than the first. He and his two officers made a few arrests for tagging, possession, and sale of narcotics, and for lewd, drunk, and disorderly conduct, but there were no robberies, drive‐by shootings, rapes, murders, or other major felonies to deal with.

Wade figured it was because the people in Darwin Gardens were in a kind of shock, uncertain how to interpret everything that had happened, all that had changed, and what it meant for the future.

Although he knew that Timo was thrown off the building on Duke’s orders, Wade couldn’t prove that it wasn’t an accident or suicide.

But everyone knew the truth.

The widely held belief in Darwin Gardens—according to Mandy, anyway—was that the startling brutality of Timo’s execution was intended to terrorize the community, to remind everyone of Duke’s power and his wrath.

Duke also couldn’t risk a police invasion or for detectives to get their hands on someone who knew so much about his operation.

More important, Duke had to do something big to firmly assert his position and relevance in the new neighborhood order, one that now included Tom Wade, who had managed in a few short days to establish his own authority and even win a measure of respect.

The people knew what Wade had done for them. They knew it because they’d seen it. His actions told them the kind of man that he was, not just by how he enforced the law, but in the way that he lived.

It also didn’t hurt that he’d stood up to Duke Fallon and walked away alive.

The big, unanswered question now was if it was possible for Duke Fallon and Tom Wade to coexist in Darwin Gardens without forcing people to declare allegiance to one of them and sparking a street war.

Wade didn’t have the answer.

He could only do his job and hope that everything worked out.

So he took advantage of the relative quiet, putting Charlotte and Billy to work with him repairing and remodeling the station. The rookies groused about doing “home improvement” instead of policing, but Wade thought it was important labor. He wanted them to feel that the station belonged to them and he hoped that sense of belonging would extend to the street outside as well. While the interior of the station was improving, he still hadn’t been able to get a window company down to replace the glass, and he was losing his patience.

Between shifts, Wade got a lot of sleep, some of it beside Mandy, and always in his bed, not hers. He didn’t even know where she lived and hadn’t bothered to ask, not that Mandy seemed the slightest bit offended by his apparent lack of interest in her life. If anything, his simple acceptance of her as she was and for whatever she was willing to give only made him more attractive to her.

It was a good week, and it went by quickly. Before he knew it, Saturday had come along. He turned in his rented Explorer, picked up his Mustang, now minus all of the
Bullitt
crap, and headed out to New King City to spend the day with his daughter.

This time, he didn’t feel like he was leaving a bad dream, but rather, that he was living a double life, one in Darwin Gardens and another in New King City, and that King’s Crossing had become the physical and temporal bridge between the two.

It felt good to be back in his own car, so much so that he listened to his Neil Diamond CD without feeling any of the usual embarrassment. He liked Neil and he was going to own it. Fuck anybody who had a problem with that. He pulled into his driveway with the windows down and “Solitary Man” blaring from the speakers.

Wade got out of the car and strode up to the front door. Brooke opened it and came out dragging a rolling suitcase and holding a sleeping bag under one arm.

“Whoa,” Wade said. “What’s all this?”

“I’m spending the weekend with you,” she said. “I’m sure you need some help unpacking.”

“Slow down,” Wade said. “I told you I’d think about it. I haven’t decided yet.”

“I have,” she said.

“This is a discussion we need to have with Mom.”

“Not me, you,” she said and went right past him to the car. “I’ll be in the car.”

He watched her go, once again finding himself torn between pride and irritation. But he could see already that her teenage years, especially once she started dating and got her driver’s license, were going to be a living hell for him.

Wade turned and went into the house. Nothing had really changed since he’d left. Even when he’d lived there, he’d never been allowed to have a say in decorating any room except the garage. The only familiar piece missing in the house was him.

He found Alison in the kitchen, sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee.

“You didn’t tell me you were living in Darwin Gardens,” she said.

“And you’re mad at me that you had to hear it from Brooke first,” he said, sitting down across from her. “I really am sorry about that, and I don’t blame you for being angry. I’m going to work a lot harder at communicating with you about things. That’s a promise.”

She nodded. “Did you invite her to spend the weekend with you?”

“No, of course I didn’t,” he said. “This is entirely her doing. She’s trying to press the issue because she’s curious about where I live. I told her that it isn’t safe for her there, and you know what she said? If she’s not safe in Darwin Gardens with an armed police officer at her side, then she’s not going to be safe anywhere.”

“She’s right,” Alison said.

“She is?”

“Brooke loves you, and if that’s where you live, then she wants to be there too.”

“It’s Darwin Gardens, Ally.”

“I don’t care where it is,” Alison said. “It’s your home, and it’s not going to be much of one if your daughter isn’t a part of it. Put her to work painting or something. She’ll love it.”

Investing his daughter in his home the way he’d invested his officers in the station. Alison was thinking about things the same way he was. It shouldn’t have been such a surprise to him. There was a lot of common ground between them, or they wouldn’t have fallen in love or been married for so many years.

“Aren’t you worried about her safety?” he asked.

“Of course I am. Constantly. But if she’s with you, I know that she’s safe.”

Wade didn’t know what to say. He’d been prepared for a confrontation and to uncharacteristically surrender without a fight. But he hadn’t prepared for this.

Alison smiled. “You were expecting me to be a hard‐ass about this, weren’t you?”

“It would have helped.”

“I know you, Tom, and why you’re living down there. I’m not so sure that Brooke does. I want her to be in your life, to know you and what you believe. I will never stand in the way of that. Taking her out for burgers and movies once a week isn’t going to cut it.”

“Thanks, Ally, but I really wasn’t ready for this. It’s going to be damn awkward.”

“Life usually is,” she said. “It’ll be good for both of you.”

Wade wasn’t sure what he was going to do with Brooke during his shifts or how to deal with her and his relationship with Mandy.

He suddenly had a troubling thought.

Did Mandy leave her bra on the floor again? Were there plastic cups lying around with lipstick on the rim? Did his bed look like two people had slept in it? Did his place reek of sex?

He’d definitely have to stall Brooke in the station while he went upstairs and cleaned up any incriminating evidence in his apartment.

He got up. “Yeah, I’m sure it will be.”

“I’ll try not to call every hour to check on her,” she said.

“I appreciate your confidence,” he said.

“Maybe every other hour.”

“Works for me,” he said.

____

Brooke, for all of her bravado, slunk down in her seat as they rolled into Darwin Gardens. She’d never been anywhere as bleak, decayed, and forgotten as this. The signs of crime and neglect were everywhere.

“Having second thoughts?” Wade asked.

“I’d be crazy not to,” she said. “But no, I want to see this. I can’t hide from this stuff forever.”

That was true, and he began to question the wisdom of keeping her shielded from so much for so long.

“But do you want to live with it?” he asked.

“You do,” she said.

“I’m paid to.”

“Not to live here, you’re not. You made that choice.”

And he could tell that she was wondering how he could have made that insane decision. When he woke up each day to his piss‐yellow walls and stained carpets, he sometimes wondered the same thing.

As they neared the station, he saw a truck carrying plates of glass parked outside and two workers inside, just behind the wrought iron bars, installing windows where the plywood had been.

He didn’t believe for one second that anyone at One King Plaza was willing to spend money on an outpost they didn’t care about, much less go to the trouble of arranging for workers to come on a weekend.

For a moment, he thought it might be the chief’s small way of acknowledging the good work that Wade and his team had done in their first week, but Wade quickly dismissed the notion. The chief didn’t want to encourage them to do any further police work. He wanted them to go away.

So where did the window installers come from? Could it have been Claggett, his landlord, who’d arranged it? If so, Wade would have him send the bill to One King Plaza and hope for the best.

Wade pulled the Mustang into the back lot and parked beside Billy’s Chevy convertible. He took his daughter’s sleeping bag and led her inside.

Billy was at his desk and sat up quickly, startled to see a child in the station, wheeling a suitcase.

“Brooke,” Wade said, “this is Officer Hagen. He works with me here.”

“Call me Billy,” he said, offering Brooke his hand. She gave it a surprisingly firm shake and glanced at her father for approval.

“You can call him whatever he likes,” Wade said, tossing the sleeping bag on his desk. “But remember that he’s a police officer and do what he tells you, especially if I am not around.”

“Pleased to meet you, Billy,” she said. “Are you sure you’re old enough to be a cop? You don’t look much older than me.”

“Youthful good looks is a family curse,” he said, then caught Wade watching the workers. “How did you get those guys to come down here?”

“I didn’t,” Wade said and then approached one of the two workers, a heavy Native American who wore thick work gloves and a white jumpsuit and was fitting a sheet of glass into place with suction cups. “Excuse me.”