Tinkerbell on Walkabout (7 page)

O, autovoi, if you’ve
got any stuff at all, now’s the time.

I kick as hard as I can with my numbed legs, putting
everything I’ve got into it.
The Caddie merely shivers.

My profound disappointment is interrupted by a muted hiss
and a metallic groan. The car settles several inches more on the left, sagging
in slow motion toward the tarmac.

“What’s in the trunk, son?” says the cop. At least I think
that’s what he says. All I’m sure of is that it’s a question and his voice is sharp with
suspicion.

Before Coop can fabricate a lie, the night is filled with
the dulcet tones of more sirens. A duet, then a small ensemble, then a full choir.
They crescendo amid the rhythmic counterpoint of cruiser doors and running
feet.

Coop must have made a move, because the cop yells: “Freeze!”
in a voice that brooks no argument.

A second voice shouts: “Out of the car!”

The Caddie rocks and the cop says, “Open it.”

The air is clean and sweet and fresh with rain.
Intoxicating. Being able to breathe without impaling my ribs on an AK47 is
heavenly.

In due time I’m upright, sitting on the rear bumper of the
old Caddie, a light drizzle misting my face. Perched beside me, July quivers
and hugs Lee, who has magically appeared out of the rainbow mélange of
cruisers.

I look up into the mist and grin stupidly at the ring of
hovering policemen.

“So which means more to you?” I ask July. “The reprimand
or the commendation?”

“The reprimand didn’t come from
my
superiors. It only came
through
them.
And everybody pretty much agreed that we’d given the Sheriff’s
Department due notice that there was a problem.”

I recall the expression of fatherly concern on the District
Attorney’s face when, after
being hauled out of bed at three a.m., he’d chewed July out for getting personally involved in a case that
belonged to the Sheriff’s
department. Then he tore another strip off her for not personally waking him at
one
a.m., when the action started.

“And the commendation will look good on my record when I
move down to SF,” she continues. “But the personal thanks from Bob’s
sister—that meant the most.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

We are sitting in the “hospitality suite” in the D.A.’s
office in Nevada City, sipping coffee and preparing to go through another round
of Q&A about our “bust.” July looks impressive in her uniform. CHP duds
tend to make most femme-cops look blocky. I sometimes think they’re
intentionally unflattering. But they flatter July. On me they’d look like a
Halloween costume.

Mr. D.A. himself—Mark Harrison by name—puts in an appearance
just then, swinging through the double doors with paperwork in hand, looking
very D.A.—ish. He smiles when he sees us and comes to hover at the table.

“You ladies ready for another round?”

“Of what?” I ask. “Coffee or grilled girl?”

“Now, now. It’s
not that bad . . . is it?” He glances at July, who shakes her
head.

“Tink’s just being a drama queen,” she tells him.

“I can’t guarantee this will be the last deposition you’ll
have to give before this goes to trial, but I’m hopeful. We should be able to
send Gina home after this.”

“Great,” I say. “Then Mom and Dad can grill me.”

The D.A. glances at the papers in his hand. “They want a
plea bargain. Manslaughter instead of murder two; illegal possession of
firearms instead of kidnapping, and they want the hate crime aspect thrown
out.”

July’s eyes snap to his face. “You won’t let them?”

“Do I look like a pushover? Thanks to your lack of regard
for jurisdiction, Officer Petersen, we have a murder case. And since Perry
Dixon is more than willing to testify against these gentlemen, I wouldn’t be
surprised to see these arrests lead to others. More than that, we have a line
into an entire hate network and the weapons dealers who armed it. To all
appearances, those boys were planning an out and out race war in Yuba County.
Your methods were unorthodox, ladies, but you got results. I think Bob Wray
would appreciate the fact that you not only solved his murder but may have
prevented others.”

Unorthodox. I shrug. “Bob solved it, himself. It was his
orderliness, his attention to detail and security . . .”

“Which you noticed and put to use. And that trick with the
taillight—quick thinking. Anyone ever tell you you’d make a good detective?”

I grimace, wondering what he’d say that if he’d seen me
curled up in the trunk of the Caddie muttering to its imaginary auto spirit.

July is laughing at me. “Everybody tells her that. Law
enforcement is in her blood.”

Harrison smiles crookedly. “I think they have medication for
that. Right now, you’ve got a date with the defense attorneys.”

July picks up her coffee and stands. “Come on, Agatha. If
we’re lucky we’ll only be here till dinner time.”

“Wow, I’ve been promoted. Think I’m ready to hang out my
shingle?”

“Yeah. Tinkerbell, P.I.”

July is teasing, but I think about it seriously as we
navigate the halls of Blind Justice—a career that will keep me close to law
enforcement. I try it out in my head: Gina Miyoko, Private Investigator.

Works for me.

I decide I’ll look into getting a license
when I get home. Right after I buy one of those handy-dandy locksmith kits. I
reach into my jeans pocket and find my new
obereg
—a small knot of
desiccated Cadillac taillight wiring.

O, autovoi—specibo, arigatou gozaimasu,
and thanks.

Tinkerbell on Walkabout

Gina Miyoko Mysteries

Maya Bohnhoff

Book View Café 2015
ISBN: 978-1-61138-548-9
Copyright © 2015 Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

Cover illustration © 2015 Judy Kennamer and Szefei, Dreamstime

Production Team:

Cover Design: Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

Copy Editor: Phyllis Irene Radford

Proofreader: Phyllis Irene Radford

Formatter: Vonda N. McIntyre

This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Digital edition: 20150815vnm

www.bookviewcafe.com
Book View Café Publishing Cooperative
P.O. Box 1624, Cedar Crest, NM 87008-1624

Maya is the New York Times Bestselling co-author of
Devil’s Daughter
(with Hope Schenk-de Michele and Paul Marquez) and
Star Wars: The Last Jedi
(with Michael Reaves). Her short fiction has been published in
Analog, Amazing Stories, Interzone,
and
Universe,
with nominations for British SF, Nebula, and Sidewise awards.

DEVIL’S DAUGHTER
with Hope Schenk-de Michele and Paul Marquez

STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI (Coruscant Nights Book Four)

Del Rey / Lucas Books, 2013
with Michael Reaves

STAR WARS: SHADOW GAMES
Del Rey/Lucas Books, 2011
with Michael Reaves

The Mer Cycle:
THE MERI
TAMINY
THE CRYSTAL ROSE
Book View Café

A PRINCESS OF PASSYUNK
Book View Café, 2010

TACO DEL AND THE FABLED TREE OF DESTINY
Book View Café, 2010

SHAMAN (A Collection of Short Science Fiction)
Book View Café, 2013

ALL THE COLORS OF TIME (A Collection of Short Science Fiction)
Book View Café, 2014

Book View Café
is a professional authors’ publishing cooperative offering DRM-free
ebooks in multiple formats to readers around the world. With
authors in a variety of genres including mystery, romance, fantasy, and
science fiction, Book View Café has something for everyone.

Book View Café
is good for readers because you can enjoy high-quality
DRM-free ebooks from your favorite authors at a reasonable price.

Book View Café
is good for writers because 95% of the profit goes directly to the book’s author.

Book View Café
authors include
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestsellers, Nebula, Hugo, Lambda, and Philip K. Dick Award winners, World Fantasy, Kirkus, and Rita Award nominees, and winners and nominees of many other publishing awards.

www.bookviewcafe.com