Eyewitness. Part 9

He let out a gust of pure exasperation and snapped, "Don't you think I wish to G.o.d I knew?"

"Look, Doug," Mabry said quietly, "you and Jim Shannon are the best there is-I know you didn't botch that case. But frankly, I'm having a hard time believing deliberate sabotage, either."

" " You think I like it? " Doug glanoed over his shoulder and hastily lowered his voice to a growl. " Dammit, Lieutenant, I work with these guys-some of 'em I've known for years. I want to think I can trust every single one of them-I have to think that, or how am I going to go out there with them and put my life on the line, huh? You tell me that. Ah. " He dragged a hand through his hair, then rubbed angrily at the back of his neck. " "h.e.l.l, I don't know if it's sabotage. I can't for the life of me figure out why, what the connection could be. Maybe... I don't know, that club was a hangout for a lot of big-money people-lot of wise guys, too. Maybe... somebody was on somebody's payroll who shouldn't have been. Belle worked there, maybe she saw something. Maybe she tried to cash in on what she saw. I don't know. All I know is, I've got an eyewitness who seems to get shot at every d.a.m.n time she makes an appointment to talk to me, and I want to know what the h.e.l.l's going on !"

Chapter 9.

cc Take it easy, Detective, " Lieutenant Mabry said calmly. " "I want to know what's going on, too. And trust me, I will: '

Doug turned away, furious with himself for losing control and fighting to regain it. This case, the situation, everything -it was getting to him, in a way nothing had ever gotten to him before. And he couldn't let it. He couldn't.

"What about this eyewitness of yours?" Once more the lieutenant's voice was nothing but businesslike. "Any progress there?"

"Not yet." He frowned. cleared his throat. "I'm working on it: '

"I think you'd better bring her in."

The quiet statement punched through the thin veneer of his self-control like a high-caliber bullet. He whirled, to find the lieutenant's hand upraised like a traffic cop's.

"Doug, I've cut you quite a bit of slack already, you know I have. But we have a situation here. I can't-"

"You can't bring her in." He had his hands on her desk, curled into fists, urgency like a knot in his belly. "What if you can't protect her? Huh? What then? What happens to the case? "

Mabry's eyebrows lifted. "Whoa, Sergeant. Are you sure it's the case you're worried about?"

"What do you mean, am I sure it's the case? What else do you think it is? "

She just looked at him. A moment or two of that was all his conscience could take, so he pushed away from her desk with a hiss of exasperation and turned his back to her again, , rubbing fruitlessly at the tension in the back of his neck.

"Look, if you're asking me if I care about the witness, you bet I do. Of course I do. I'm responsible for her safety, dammit. I don't want her hurt: " I mean," Mabry said softly, " I think you more than care. This is personal with you, isn't it? " Doug snorted. " Personal? Come on. " But he didn't dare let her see his face; he wasn't that good an actor.

And Mabry was too good at reading people. "Personal , " she repeated with her special brand of implacable calm. "I think you're emotionally involved. And you've been around long enough I don't have to tell you how dangerous that is. That's why I want you to bring her in. Doug, we'll take every precaution. If she cooperates, I'll see she gets the full program. Witness protection-"

"No." He ground the word through clenched teeth.

"Dammit, I know she's close to trusting me. I just need a little more" "" Are you sleeping with her? "

"What?" He pivoted, the word coming out in a rush of breath, as if she'd punched him in the gut.

Mabry had her hands clasped in front of her like an old fas.h.i.+oned school teacher. "You heard me. You said she's at your place. Are you sleeping with her?"

Doug, on the other hand, felt like a ten-year-old, sweaty and fraudulent. "Lieutenant," he said softly, "you are way over the line."

Her gaze didn't waver. "I don't think so. Are you?"

"No," he growled, "I'm not sleeping with her. Not that it's-ah, jeez." He stopped and began to swear quietly, in a completely different tone of voice.

Lieutenant Mabry caught the change and looked for the reason, then sat up straight and said, "Oh, wow." Her tone had taken on a new note, too, something uniquely feminine Jim Shannon had that effect on people-especially women.

Doug watched his ex-partner weave his way through the squad room, graceful in spite of a left knee that was mostly stainless steel, answering greetings with a grin and a wave and shaking hands like a d.a.m.ned politician. No doubt about it, he thought, the man did have charisma. In spite of the nerves that were still jumping and fluttering in his belly, he was grinning himself as he opened the door of Mabry's office.

"Ah, h.e.l.l," he said with a grimace, "there goes the neighborhood."

Shannon laughed and gripped his hand. "Good to see you, too, partner." The handshake held a while, the way it does between longtime friends.

"So," Doug said, "what're you doing way up here, sll,mming? Not enough excitement for you downtown these days? " " " Couldn't stay away. " Shannon moved past Doug to extend a hand to the lieutenant, who was just stepping out from behind her desk, smoothing down the front of her skirt as she came. " Lieutenant Mabry-hope this isn't an imposition : '

"a.s.sistant Chief Shannon. Of course not, sir it's an honor."

"Oh, hey-just Jim: '

Doug rolled his eyes. "G.o.d, yes-we're going to have to be calling him " Chief' soon enough as it is. "

Shannon laughed and modestly waved that aside. "Hey, I wanted to hear firsthand what you've got on this Landon case. Doug tells me he's located the missing roommate. You know," he said to Mabry in a conspirator's murmur, jerking his head toward Doug, "the two of us pretty near busted our b.u.t.ts trying to find that girl. I thought sure she was fish food-didn't you, partner?" Expanding his for us to in elude both Doug and the lieutenant, he went on, "Anyway, I just thought I'd drop over and see how it's going "

Doug and Mabry exchanged a look. The lieutenant cleared her throat. "She's, uh... not in custody-"

Shannon waved a hand. "It's all right, Lieutenant, Doug told me what happened in San Diego. He tells me he's got her in a safe house somewhere. Won't tell me where " , though. He grinned ruefully. "Seems to think he's keeping my a.s.s out of the fire."

Mabry said quickly, "

" Sergeant MacDougal- "

At the same moment Doug coughed and said, "Look, Jim-"

Shannon held up a hand, cutting them both off. "No, I I understand. It's your ball game, and I know you're going to handle it the way you think best. Just wanted you to know, though-I can't help but take a personal interest in this one.

I hope you'll let me know if there are any developments.

Anything at all. " " " Of course, " Mabry murmured. " " Absolutely. " , " Count on it," said Doug.

"Just one thing. The Donnelly woman-how's it looking ? You really think she's an eyewitness? She can ID our killer? "

Mabry glanced at Doug. He cleared his throat. "I'm not sure," he said. " " I think so "

Shannon exhaled slowly and audibly, shaking his head.

"Oh, boy. Wow. Well..." He looked from Doug to the lieutenant and back again. "I won't take up any more of your time. I hope you'll let me know as soon as anything breaks."

"You bet, partner," Doug murmured. "You can count on it." ; Shannon nodded toward Mabry. "Lieutenant." She acknowledged that with a nod of her own. Doug opened the door and held it for his ex-partner, then followed him out of the office.

"I gotta tell you," Shannon said with an exhalation as he walked with Doug to his desk, "I'm having a hard time with this. I don't like being out in the cold."

"It's for your own good: Doug picked up his cardboard cup of fast-food coffee, took a swig of it and made a face. Stone cold. Figured.

Shannon was eyeing the burrito with something like revulsion' Come on, you're not going to eat that, are you? You hate fast food. "

Doug shrugged. "Gotta eat something. Didn't have time for breakfast this morning. Overslept."

"Tell you what. Since I can't get you to let me in on the Rhinestone Collar case, at least let me buy you a decent breakfast: " " Is this a bribe? " " " You bet. "

Doug grinned. "

" Okay, partner-you're on. "

"Preacher! Preacher-look there," Daisy said in a raspy stage whisper. "It's him. That's the guy."

Preacher stirred irritably beneath his open newspaper; he and Daisy and JoJo had been watching the police department parking lot for hours, now. It was turning colder by the minute and he was beginning to stiffen up. He was also beginning to work up a powerful thirst. He made querulous noises, then muttered, "What?"

"Look there-coming out the front. The big guy. That's the cop took our Mary. Told you we'd find him: '

Preacher considered for a moment, squinting. "I believe you're right, Mrs. Pepper. Who do you suppose the other fellow is? The one with the limp."

"Who cares?" Daisy was already on her feet. "Where's JoJo at? We gotta get the car."

Preacher groaned and managed in careful stages to achieve a standing position. Panting and swaying slightly, he said, "Might I... ask why we... require the car?"

"We gotta follow him. Hurry up-ah.. shoot. "

"Never mind," Preacher said comfortingly as they watched the two men get into a s.h.i.+ny brown BMW and drive away down the street toward Hollywood Boulevard. "At least we know we have the right place. I'm not certain tailing a police officer is the best course of action in any case. I believe" He cleared his throat loudly and thoroughly and gave his coat a few cursory swipes with the back of his hand. " I believe it's time I made a few discreet inquiries. "

"Yeah," said Daisy, "and then what? What are we gonna do if she's in jail?"

"Then," said Preacher with a shrug, "we see what we can do to get her out: '

Daisy considered that gloomily. "We better hope she ain't, then. Okay, so what if she's not in jail?"

Preacher straightened himself up to his full height, smoothed down his hair with both hands and gave his lapels a tug. "In that case, we will have to prooeed to Plan B " Daisy looked blank. "We tail the cop," he explained with dignity. "I suggest you and JoJo go and retrieve the car, just in case."

Doug spent the morning trying to ID the Jane Doe in the arson case. According to the autopsy report, she'd had enough drugs in her system to kill a horse, which kind of put a whole new slant on things. Had it been a fiomicide, or just another accidental overdose, with the arson as a cover-up?

He made the usual check with Missing Persons and the runaway file, but inspiration eluded him. I-is instincts were dormant on this one; his mind kept wandering.

Around one o'clock he told the lieutenant he was checking out.

"Going to lunch?" she inquired, eyebrows arching.

He gave her a half smile with no humor in it. "Going to go talk to a witness"

Mabry didn't smile at all. "Doug-I meant what I said. I want her in here tomorrow. Tomorrow, understand?"

He left without answering.

Outside, the day had turned as dark as his mood; rain seemed imminent. It was one of the few days in Southern California that actually felt like fall. There was a chill in the air, a certain smell that reminded Doug suddenly and with a nostalgic twinge of his boyhood back in Michigan, of playing touch football at twilight through a swirl of leaves on a tree-lined street, and then waking up to the very first fall of snow.

He turned off Franklin and began the steep uphill climb to his house, his car coughing and choking in its usual irritating way. " " Gotta get this d.a.m.n thing fixed, " he muttered to himself as he s.h.i.+fted into low gear. It didn't help much. His speed kept dropping until he was chugging along at all of twenty miles an hour. And to make matters worse, now he had a car on his tail.

"Sorry, buddy," he said to the headlights in his rearview mirror. "This is as fast as I go, and there's no place on this d.a.m.n street where I can let you by."

At least they didn't seem to be in a great hurry, whoever they were. He didn't think it was one of his neighbors, at least not one he recognized. A Bronco, it looked like. Dark red, or maroon. When he pulled off into his own driveway it roared on past, and the people inside, just silhouettes in the premature dusk, didn't wave or even look his way.

"What do I do, what do I do?" Daisy was saying in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, as if there was a danger she'd be overheard JoJo was bouncing nervously up and down on the back seat.

"Keep going," said Preacher. "There must be a place to turn around up here somewhere. It's a two-way street."

"How can it be a two-way street?" demanded Daisy, scowling over the top of the steering wheel. "There's only room for one car. If we meet somebody, we're dead."

"Up there," said Preacher suddenly. "Pull into that driveway."

"What if somebody comes?"

"n.o.body's going to come. They're out of town."

"How do you know?"

"There's a whole bunch of newspapers, that's how. Hurry up-pull in, pull in."

"Okay, okay," said Daisy. The Bronco bucked over a shallow curb and lurched to a halt. Its three occupants sat for a few moments in dead silence.

After a while JoJo mumbled, "He has a nice house."

Daisy took off her baseball cap and scratched her head. "So, what do we do now?"

"Be quiet," said Preacher. "I'm thinking."

Doug climbed the steps to his front door in the heavy quiet that sometimes falls just before rain. There wasn't a sound from inside the house, either. Not even when he stuck his key in the lock.

What the h.e.l.l? he thought. What could be wrong with Maurice? Had the cat got his tongue-and the rest of him along with it?

He opened the door slowly and silently, all his nerves vibrating with suspense, and a premonition that wasn't quite alarm. What he saw instantly rea.s.sured him as to the condition of Maurice, if not his tongue. It also mystified him completely. The mynah bird was in his cage, safe and whole. He had his head c.o.c.ked and one eye riveted with glittering intensity on something. Something in the kitchen.

Doug never knew what instinct kept him silent. He closed the door without a sound, and had taken a single stealthy step when he heard something that froze him in his tracks. It was an ordinary enough little sound-the thorough and careful clearing of a throat. What followed that, however, was anything but ordinary. It sent a s.h.i.+ver up his spine. It p.r.i.c.kled his skin with goose b.u.mps.

Doug didn't think he'd ever heard anything quite so lovely. It moved him unexpecterlly, caught him like a sucker punch with shock wave of emotion that made his eyes sting and his throat ache, like organ music wafting from a small country church on a warm summer Sunday, or choirs of small children singing "Silent Night." The closest he could come to giving the emotion a name was homesickness. But if that's what it was, it was for a time and place he'd never known, and wasn't sure had ever really existed.

"I once was lost, but now I'm found, Was blind, but now I see. "

The last poignant note died away to a whisper, leaving Doug shaken, uncertain what he should say or do next. He felt as if he ought to tiptoe out and come in again, as if he'd intruded on something so intensely private it would embarra.s.s him to ever have her know he'd listened. So he just stood there beside the door in an agony of indecision.

And then she giggled. He heard it clearly, as fat and smug as any giggle could be, full of pride and delight and selfsatisfaction It was infectious, too; laughter rippled through his insides and broke out in a smile.

She launched at once into a new song and Doug moved forward again, still tiptoeing, still feeling like an intruder but no longer sorry for it. He felt like a little kid about to catch Saint Nicholas red-handed.