Rogue Justice (44 page)

If the woman ever decides to give up fishing,
she's sure as hell got a future in Hollywood.

As for his own role in all this, Steiger had done what cops were supposed to do: enforce the law. The oath to serve and protect was one he'd always taken seriously, even if it meant shielding the likes of Mitchell Chandler. But that oath, at least as he interpreted it, allowed for a certain amount of "discretion." And so when it came to the assault and kidnapping charges hanging over the heads of the captain and her partners-in-crime—Mickey Kincaid and the shaman—Steiger had chosen to look the other way. And by doing so, he'd essentially absolved them of any pending charges. After all, he reasoned, they'd suffered enough already. What could possibly be gained by adding to their grief?

To help sell the story, Steiger had provided authorities with a somewhat "altered" version of events. He explained that Chandler had gone to North Beach willingly and that his security team had overreacted, forcing Seattle's SWAT unit into action. The tale was a whopper. He knew it and so did the DA. He looked sideways at him the entire time.

A veteran FBI agent called in on the case accused Steiger of "gaslighting." It was a tactic used back in the day by cowboy cops to manipulate facts and distort reality. The agent had no proof, of course, and he didn't press the matter. Then, there were the officers on the beach. To a person they said they couldn't be sure of what had happened. They recalled that seconds before Chandler's horrifying death, they'd seen him speed off in the Zodiac, waving his arms and screaming something unintelligible. But that was the extent of it.

Chandler's two surviving henchmen, under guard at the local hospital, predictably offered very different accounts of the entire affair. But their stories contradicted statements made by law enforcement and others, which left only the man himself—and Mitchell Chandler was deader than dead.

Steiger was thinking about all this as Rosekrans took the stage. He was dressed in a tailored, gray three-piece suit. Despite the chaos swirling around him, he appeared remarkably calm. He stepped to a tangle of microphones and digital recorders clipped to the lectern, cleared his throat, and motioned for quiet. It took the caffeine-fueled crowd some time to settle, but the din soon subsided.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the DA said. "Thank you for coming. I will be brief and answer a few questions afterward." He introduced himself and then paused, choosing his words carefully. "Let me begin by making one thing very clear. While we believe the events at the oceanarium in Seattle early yesterday morning are linked to what happened here in Port Townsend later in the day, the FBI has unequivocally ruled out terrorism as a motive in both instances."

"Old news," someone shouted. Indeed the Internet had been buzzing with reports about the rogue whales and the trail of destruction left in their wake.

Rosekrans continued. "Now, as most of you know my office is looking into a number of serious felonies related to these events, with the able assistance of local police, the FBI, and our state's attorney general. These crimes include blackmail, conspiracy, and manslaughter, along with the illegal capture of one of our region's most precious assets, the killer whale." The DA paused again, now seeming to find his rhythm. "Since this is an ongoing investigation, I am not at liberty to discuss specific facts relating to these cases at this time. However, I
can
tell you that we have identified two of the individuals we believe were involved, both of whom are now deceased—Preston Tradd, a consultant from Irvine, California, and Mitchell Chandler, owner of Kingdom of the Sea theme park in Seattle, among other entities. As additional information becomes available, we will pass it on to all of you as appropriate. Now, are there any questions?"

"What can you tell us about Chandler?" one reporter shouted out.

Another chimed in, "Yeah, how exactly did he die? And what about the shootout on the beach?"

Rosekrans adjusted the microphone, took a sip of water. "Again, not all the facts are in. But I
can
confirm what has already been reported on the news. At approximately 2:45 yesterday afternoon, there was a confrontation between Mr. Chandler and two other individuals at North Beach, just a few miles from here. We believe Mr. Chandler's security team misconstrued it as some kind of threat and responded with violence. Seattle homicide detective Cloyd Steiger, seated here to my right, had wisely put the brave men and women of his city's SWAT team on alert. And they interceded. Unfortunately, one man died at the scene and two others were arrested. When detective Steiger attempted to bring Mr. Chandler in for questioning, he refused. He chose instead to flee the scene in a motorized boat, at which time he met his demise."

"Who did Chandler confront at the beach?" blurted a chorus of voices.

"I can't disclose that information at this time," Rosekrans said, pointing to a local writer he recognized. She was immediately shouted down by Geraldo Rivera from Fox News.

"What about this boat you referred to?" Rivera asked in an acerbic tone. "Did it just magically drop out of the sky?"

"No, it did not—and we're looking into that."

CNN's Anderson Cooper grabbed the spotlight next. "I spoke with several eyewitnesses last evening," he said dispassionately. "They claim that Mr. Chandler was abducted right here on the front lawn of the Courthouse by an African-American male and a tall red-haired female. Are they the two other
individuals
you referred to?"

Steiger stiffened in his chair.

It was the one gaping hole in an otherwise airtight, if implausible, tale.

The eyewitnesses had indeed given statements to that effect, yet upon further questioning they'd told police they weren't exactly sure what they'd seen. The great debate around town quickly became, what was behind this collective change of heart? Was it because the five women and two men believed justice had been served? Were they sparing the taxpayers from an expensive trial? Or, was this simply a case of Port Townsend at its quirky best? The scuttlebutt among those in the know had it that at least four of the witnesses—enough for a quorum—were devoted fans of
Waking Ned Devine
. The movie was about an entire Irish village which entered into a pact of silence in order to claim a huge lottery prize. Steiger had seen the film years earlier and counted it among his favorites. It was funny, poignant, and entirely plausible. He chuckled at the thought of old Ned sitting in his chair in front of the TV clutching the "lucky" ticket in his cold, dead hands.

The scuttlebutt, Steiger happily concluded, had carried the day.

Rosekrans glanced over at him now, seemed to read his mind, then turned back to the silver-haired reporter. "No comment, Mr. Cooper."

Nancy Grace stepped forward, sneering her epic sneer. "I heard from reliable sources that the governor is involved? Is that true?"

"Again, I cannot disclose that information," Rosekrans remarked. "Next question?"

The DA faced a few other fastballs, hit a couple out of the park, then made a hasty retreat from the podium. He nodded to the dignitaries who followed him up the stairs and into the heavily-guarded Courthouse. The questions were still coming at him in machine-gun volleys.

Steiger trailed a few feet behind the others, holding the door open for Jia-li Han. Immediately after they entered the building, she pulled him aside and asked for a minute of his time. They made their way to an open office down the hall, away from the thunderous mob.

Jia-li smiled an all-knowing smile and said, "Listen, detective, forget what those eyewitnesses said, we both know what
really
happened to Chandler on the front lawn. Frankly, I don't care about any of that. What I
am
curious about, though, is what went down at the beach?"

"It's all there in my report, Ms. Han," Steiger said with a straight face. "Signed, sealed, and delivered."

"Right. And I'll see it eventually. But something tells me there's a lot
more
to the story."

"Then I guess you'll just have to wait for the results of the investigations. There'll be two, you know. A criminal investigation conducted by local cops—and an officer-involved shooting investigation involving the SWAT team. My homicide colleagues back in Seattle will handle that one."

"I'll be sure to follow up on those. In the meantime, I intend to keep digging."

"As it should be," Steiger said. "Only you can scratch me from your list of contacts, Ms. Han."

"Yeah, why is that?"

"Well, after I gave my statement yesterday, I hightailed it back to Seattle, had a long talk with the wife. We both decided it was time. So this morning, I turned in my badge and gun."

"Wow! You retired?"

"Yeah, I had a great run and finally got justice for Eddie."

"Eddie?"

"My former partner. Long story. Maybe someday I'll tell you about it over a few Coronas. Let's just say he's at peace now. And so am I."

"Sounds good, detective," Jia-li said. "So what are you going to do with yourself? Somehow I don't see you sitting around on the front porch strumming an old guitar."

Steiger walked Jia-li to the window, pointed to a shiny motorcycle parked in a barricaded lot next to the Courthouse. The big iron horse was the V-Rod Harley-Davidson, 100
^th
Anniversary edition, everything black and chrome. "You know what they say, 'For Every Soul, There's a Harley.' She's packed up and ready to roll. By the time you get back to the TV station, I'll be in the wind. Somewhere between here and nowhere."

"That's so cool." Jia-li looked so happy for him, Steiger thought she might just plant one on his cheek. "Listen, you remember my fiancé, right?"

"Jason? Sure. How's he doing?"

"He's great, thanks. Making a big change, too, as a matter of fact. He kissed the tort world goodbye last week, which sure didn't break this girl's heart. Dance with the devil long enough and you grow horns and a tail. Anyway, he just opened a free legal clinic in Belltown."

"Good for him."

"He's out there in that mob somewhere, but he asked me to say hi."

"I appreciate that. Give him my best."

"Sure thing," Jia-li said. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around Steiger's waist. "You're a good man, Detective Cloyd Steiger. A
really
good man."

"And you're a class act, young lady. Now go knock 'em dead."

"I will. You ride safely and well, okay?"

Steiger winked, broke into that broad Irish grin, and then marched out the door.

Chapter 48

9 April, 11:15 AM PDT

Discovery Bay, Washington

Four days after the press conference, investigators were still trying to figure out exactly what had happened during those chaotic few hours at KOS-Seattle and later the same afternoon in Port Townsend. Media coverage also continued unabated. Reporters from around the globe scrambled to find any new tidbits of information, bleary-eyed from mining the same old territory. Adding to their frustration, there had been no further sightings of the rogue whales, perhaps because the creatures had returned "to the source of all things" in a giant spaceship. At least that's what Captain Cody and his Cosmic Commandos believed. The Captain claimed to have photographic evidence of the celestial phenomenon, but so far he had not produced it.

The real story, of course, was much more down to earth... and it would change everything.

Twenty minutes and a million miles from the hysteria at North Beach, Zora and Houdini stepped aboard the
Sockdolager
, Mickey's scrappy twenty-four-foot sailboat. It was docked outside his home on Discovery Bay. Mickey had arrived a few moments earlier to prepare for what would surely be an emotional day. After greeting his guests, he took the helm while Houdini and Zora cast off the mooring lines. The breeze quickly picked up and the boat was soon running under sail in a northerly direction along the eastern shore of the bay.

A mile or so up the coast, Mickey tacked to starboard, catching a gust of wind that carried them into a sheltered cove off Protection Island—a national wildlife refuge frequented by gulls, puffins, and harbor seals, each noisily striving to outperform the others. After lowering the main sail and drifter, Mickey allowed the boat to drift a bit closer to land before dropping anchor. Houdini took a seat next to Zora on the lee side of the cockpit. Mickey stepped into the companionway hatch, his elbows resting on the coaming. He explained that it was here, on this spectacular stretch of water, that Katrina had experienced her first up-close encounter with an orca. An experience that forever changed the course of her young life.