"Then they ought to fix it so they can't." Tommy swore.
"Open your locker, Chan," the Lieutenant said.
Tommy did. Two men and a dog rifled through the contents for some three minutes. "OK, Chan. You're clean."
"Yeah, and everything I own is covered in fucking dog slobber," Tommy mumbled as he tried to put his locker back into some kind of order.
The dog started jumping on Spider's locker, and Spider's heart sank into her gut.
"Webb, open your locker," the lieutenant said.
Spider opened her locker. The dog went ape-shit, and they found what they were looking for in the pocket of Spider's jean jacket. Spider looked at the bag of coke hanging from the lieutenant's fingers.
"Why, Webb?"
"You know I didn't fucking steal that shit," Spider said. "I don't do drugs. Everyone knows that. So why would I steal that? There certainly isn't enough to sell. Besides which, if I wouldn't steal from the evidence room when I needed money, why would I do it now when I don't?"
The lieutenant nodded. She was right. It didn't make any sense. "Will you take a drug test?"
She nodded.
"Let's go to my office."
Tommy went with them. "This is a frame up. You know this is a frame up," Tommy said hotly.
The lieutenant put his comlink to Spider's arm and pushed a button. He read the results. "She tests clean."
"Don't sound so fucking surprised."
The lieutenant's head swung up; he looked shocked. It was Chan who said it. He ignored the outburst. Everyone was allowed an occasional show of temper, and Chan and Webb were close. It made sense that he would rush to her defense.
"I didn't steal that shit," Spider said. "If I did, do you really think I'd be stupid enough to put it in my own locker? Or anywhere in this building for that matter?"
He looked at her and shook his head. He sat down behind his desk. "I don't think you did. Unfortunately everyone saw it, and it's on the main frame."
Spider ran her hands over her face and sat down.
Tommy just stared at her.
She looked back, and she knew what he was thinking. She shrugged. "It's not the lieutenant's fault. He didn't do it," she said. "I'm worried about how this is going to look for Carrie."
"I'll try to keep the press out of this," the lieutenant said.
Spider laughed bitterly. "Good fucking luck."
"You'll have to be suspended pending an investigation," he said carefully and waited for the explosion.
"I know," Spider said. She stood up and handed him her comlink and service revolver.
"This fucking stinks!" Tommy screamed. He felt that someone should be screaming, and it didn't look like it was going to be Spider.
"OK, Chan, that's enough," the lieutenant warned.
"I'll tell you what's enough . . . "
"It's not that bad, Tommy. They gott ah prove I did it in order to suspend me permanently. I didn't do it, so there is no proof. It's just a pain in the ass for me, and it's embarrassing for Carrie."
"We'll try to keep it under wraps. I really am sorry . . . Procedure, you know." The lieutenant shrugged helplessly.
She smiled at him, feeling his sincerity; maybe he wasn't such a prick after all. She stood up. "Better take me off line." She leaned forward.
The lieutenant got up and walked around his desk, the wand in his hand.
"This is unfucking believable," Tommy swore.
The lieutenant touched the wand to the lump behind her ear. Spider felt a slight surge of electricity, and the deed was done. She was completely off line for the first time in years.
"Call me when it's over," Spider said. She turned to walk out, and Tommy followed her.
"That's it!" Tommy said in disbelief. "You're just going to let this happen!"
"There's nothing I can do, Tommy." Spider turned to face him and threw up her hands. "I guess I'll enjoy a little time off and wait for the other shoe to drop."
Spider watched the six o'clock news with baited breath. She didn't know how he did it, but Toby had successfully kept it off the news—at least for now. She turned the TV off and leaned back in the recliner. She heard the front door open and then close.
"Honey, the funniest thing happened to me at work today," she mumbled to herself. She still didn't know how she was going to tell Carrie.
Carrie walked into the room looking exhausted and threw her briefcase onto the chair Spider was sitting in.
Spider grunted as she caught the case.
Carrie spun around.
"Oh, Honey, I'm sorry! I didn't know you were home . . . Where's your truck?"
"Parked out front where it always is," Spider said.
"Ah . . . no, it's not," Carrie said.
Spider ran past her and out the front door. She stood looking at the blank spot where her truck was supposed to be.
She turned to Carrie. "You're not going to believe the day I've had."
The police had just left from filling out her grand theft auto complaint when the phone rang. They'd found her truck. Wasn't much left—some crunched metal and smashed glass with a license plate that she had to pay to have hauled away.
"Your insurance . . . " Carrie started.
"Honey, that truck is ten years old and paid for. I don't have anything but liability on it." She sighed. "It doesn't get much better than this."
"You're just having a bad day," Carrie said, forcing a smile.
"I can't believe they're fucking with me like this. I thought this was over. I thought I had over reacted. But it's not over; they're starting right up again."
"Who is doing what, Honey?"
Spider just looked at her.
"Oh, come on, Baby, you're not going to start this again are you? You're just being paranoid."
The phone rang and Spider answered it. "Hello?"
Carrie got up and headed out the door.
"Where you going?" Spider asked, covering the receiver with her hand.
"To the den to use the other phone."
"Hello, Spider?" Tommy could never really tell if it was her or Carrie over the phone.
"Yep."
"You OK?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I got no job and I got no truck, but I'm great."
"Truck? What happened to your truck?"
"Stolen out of the drive way and totaled. The cops who came out here to take my complaint were real understanding, though," she said sarcastically.
"Yeah, I bet they were," Tommy said, and added this to his long list of reasons to hate uniformed officers. "Well, they're going to clear you—they have to."
"I know," Spider sighed. "I'm not worried about that. I'm not even really worried about the truck. I'm just worried about what's next."
"Oh, you're not going to start that shit again! I thought we were over that. Hell, there haven't been any Fry Guy killings and no SWTF guys in town for months. You're just being paranoid. Some guy you pissed off at work is trying to get back at you, and it's not the first time some kid has gone to a rich neighborhood, stolen a car and totaled it."
"That's what they want you to think," Spider said.
"Doesn't that shrink do anything for you? I admit it, there for awhile I was getting as squirrelly as you were, but . . . There is no big government conspiracy, no one's after you, no one's after anyone."
"If you say so. But then that means that my life sucks."
"As long as we're talking about things that suck . . . I can't run with you in the morning. The lieutenant just informed me that I will be staking out a really stinky section of the dock tomorrow morning," Tommy said.
"Alone?" Spider asked.
"It's just an observation thing. Looking for a witness, not a perp. Guy used to work on the docks. They figure if he's in trouble he might go back there."
"Well, gee! That sounds like great fun, wish I could be there."
"Yeah, right," Tommy scoffed. "Try not to worry."
"Yeah, right," Spider laughed. "Good bye, Tommy."
"Bye."
Spider hung up the phone and flopped into the recliner.
"I got you a car for tomorrow," Carrie said as she walked into the room.
"Suddenly I have become a very high maintenance woman," Spider said with a sigh.
Carrie sat down in Spider lap and wrapped her arms around her neck. "So, you ready to start working that bill off, chick?"
"My work is never done."
She didn't know why, but it seemed earlier when she had to run by herself. It seemed more like work, that was for damn sure. She rounded the corner and ran straight into the So-what-if guys. The big one was standing in the middle of the path, the other one was standing just off it.
Spider didn't give it a second thought; she landed a fist in the middle of Kirk's face and sent him flying. He landed on his ass on the ground, his nose spouting blood like a geyser.
Jason started to move towards her.
Spider took a stance and thumbed her nose at him.
Jason put his hands in the air and moved back.
Kirk screamed and held his nose. He stumbled to his feet, and Spider landed a spinning kick to his ribs that sent him flying onto his butt again. She looked at Jason to see if he was going to move again.
He smiled and held up his hands again.
"Here's the news, goat turd," Spider hissed at the wounded man. "I don't know who the fucking Fry Guy is, and if I did I sure to dick wouldn't tell you. Every time you hurt me, I'm gonna hurt you. Your nose was for my reputation; your ribs were for my truck. You keep fucking with me, and you're going to run out of body parts."
Kirk pulled his gun and pointed it at Spider. To his surprise the gun went flying from his hand. The next time he saw it, it was in the huge hand of Spider Web. Then it was flying into the lake.
"Thiiiis . . . is bigger . . . than you know . . . Weeebb," Kirk managed to get out.
"And I am meaner than you know, Kirk." She took off running again as if nothing had stopped her in the first place.
Jason walked over and helped Kirk to his feet.
"Why . . . why di-didn't you he-help . . . me," Kirk demanded.
"Help you what? Get your ass kicked? If I wanted to be a fucking hero I sure as hell wouldn't be doing this job." Jason started helping him towards the car.
"We'll have to put on a lot more pressure before that one breaks." Kirk groaned as Jason helped him into his seat.
Jason laughed. "I think it's more likely that she'll break you."
"Everyone has a breaking point; we just have to find hers."
This was the second morning of this shit. Tommy would much rather be in the park running with Spider. Running and talking was a good way to start a day, lots better than sitting on a dirty dock smelling last week's catch of the day.
To make matters worse, it wasn't cold but they insisted he wear a P jacket and pretend to be fishing. They said it made him look less threatening. He agreed. Only an idiot would be wearing a jacket on a day like this one.
Dawn was just starting to break. The dock was still shrouded in darkness. He heard something move behind him and turned just in time to see five men bearing down on him. He had to be imagining things.
"Nice morning for fish . . . " He wasn't imagining shit. The bastards jumped him. The first one got a face full of foot for his troubles. A baseball bat was spinning towards his head. He spun quickly, caught the bat with his foot and it exploded into splinters. He ducked under the third one's attack, then rose up throwing him over his back and into the lake behind him. A punch landed in the side of his head and he rolled with it, punching another attacker in the solar plexus hard enough to stop the man's heart, so that he dropped like a rock.
"Come in! Come in! I got trouble!" Tommy screamed. In a few minutes at the most, he would have back up.
With Tommy's attention diverted for just a second one of them landed a punch into his ribs. Tommy spun and kicked the guy sending him staggering back. The other guy swung at him with what was left of the bat. Tommy grabbed it and slammed it back towards his attacker, striking him in the eye. Tommy backed up and got into his stance, waiting for their next attack. One of them came running at him, his feet heading for Tommy's face. He grabbed the man's feet in mid air, twisted and the man went spinning head first into the wooden dock. His head making a sick, thudding noise as it struck.
Tommy went for his weapon reluctantly. "You fuckers are under arrest!" Tommy wiped the little bit of blood from his lip.