Читать книгу Civil Twilight - Susan Dunlap - Страница 12

8

I LEAPT BACK, swept the pile of cases off the desk onto the rising figure behind it. That bought me just enough time to reach for Gary’s phone and punch in the 9—

“Wait!”

“Huh?” I glared down at the form of my brother John. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Waiting to get a hold of Gary.”

“Back there? You aiming to grab him by the ankles?”

“I wanted to see what kind of amateur it was pulling a b-and-e,” he corrected me, as he stood up. “I could have taken a train to the East Bay in the time you spent attacking the lock.”

“I’ll be quicker next time.” I switched on the light and caught the remnant of something on his face. Once I might have called it a “can’t control her” look. But I’d seen this same expression when the patrol car had picked him up at Coit Tower. After he’d blindsided me about Mike. Before he yelled at me in front of the crash scene.

“John, what the hell is going on?”

“That’s what I want to know.”

He was all cop—we ask, you tell—now. I could have smacked him. But I wanted answers more. With huge effort, I swallowed my rage and steeled myself to play his game. “Your plan went awry when Karen took your car.”

“Your friend stole my car.”

“Not my friend. The woman you’d been meeting at Coit Tower for how long? I barely knew her, but you, John, you knew her very well. Not as well as you wanted to, you, in your hot guy-on-the-make suit. So, just what were those get-togethers about?”

Was this how cops did it, sucker-punched and watched? If I hadn’t been so furious, I would have felt bad, very bad. “You have these clandestine meetings,” I went on, “and she steals—oh, no, wait, she doesn’t need to steal your car. You’re her—what?—boy toy? She can just borrow your car. The city won’t mind you lending it to a girlfriend. That kind of thing happens all the time. It only creates problems when there’s a crash in front of a spiffy Victorian and the buck gets traced to you.”

“Are you here to find out something about Gary? Or do you just want to make a scene?” His control was masterful. He wasn’t red-faced. His hands weren’t in fists. He didn’t look like he was about to slug me. Not quite.

“Let me condense my question so you can grasp it: can you explain you and Karen Johnson?”

“It’s none of your—”

“Not my business? It’s my business, the SFPD’s business, the whole city’s business.”

“It wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t—”

I shook my head. Just stared at him.

His stared back, his face taut, walling off the machinations going on behind it. “Okay. You’re right.”

“Right about what?”

“I’m meeting her for a torrid affair. You’re just wrong about the Victorian. We’re using the Laundromat across the street. It’s more practical. We can get a clean load—”

“This is serious.”

“You don’t think I can have a serious affair?” He settled back on the desk. He knew he’d won.

In his mind I was still his baby sister, in front of whom he’d dangled toys out of reach and spelled out secret words to the other big kids. I could have screamed.

I had to regroup, but not now. Definitely not here. “So what’d you find among Gary’s mire?”

“Nothing.”

“All your own speedy lock-picking for nothing?” The office looked more daunting a muddle in the light. Even if John or I knew exactly what to grab there’d be less than a ten percent chance of finding it in here. “I’m assuming by your presence here in the dark, without a warrant?”—

He nodded.

—“that your issue is personal rather than police business.”

He offered the most grudging of grunts. “But you brought her to Coit Tower. How come?”

“Gary called. Told me zip. I’m as much in the dark as you. I don’t know whether he planned the carjacking or she did or she did it on the spur. What do you think?”

I expected him to attack or evade, but he surprised me. He cleared Gary’s chair and settled into it. “Dunno, Darcy. There’ve always been gags and gotchas in the family, me trying to keep control—okay, I know, with a way heavier hand than you kids wanted. Particularly Gary. Three years younger with too much time spent trying to show me up.”

I resisted the urge to come to the defense of Gary—and, in fact, all the rest of us.

“But lately . . .”

“Lately?” I prompted.

“Lately . . . The last couple weeks, maybe month, he’s been weird. I mean, for Gary. Whatever you may think, he and I are close. There’s probably not a single thing outside of Mom and the 49ers we agree on—and even with Mom we’ve got opinions that don’t match—but still we’re brothers and I know what Gary’s like. I’ve seen him through three divorces, a couple of huge settlements on cases he was almost sure to lose in trial, one loss that threw him for a loop for months. What I’m saying is I know him. And lately he’s been strange.”

“Strange how?”

“Called me to meet him for a drink and stood me up. Skipped the Seattle game.”

“Maybe he wanted to save himself the frustration.”

“Yeah, well, team coulda stayed in the locker room and done that for all of us. But last week he missed Sunday dinner without a word to Mom. Of course, later he fell all over himself apologizing and she forgave him like she always does. But you can guess what dinner was like with everyone trying to make conversation to distract her so she wouldn’t have a chance to think what we knew she was thinking anyway.”

I nodded. “That afternoon Mike walked out the door . . .”

It was a moment before he said softly, “Yeah. Gary can be a jerk, but he’d never do that to Mom. Never.”

I pushed a stack of papers aside and sat on the desk. “And yet, he did. So, why?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you figure it’s got to do with Karen Johnson, right?”

He shrugged.

“You know he’s representing her. And you know about her. You could have said, ‘Mom, Gary’s got a big case that involves a woman I’ve been seeing for a month. He can’t show up for dinner because he’s taking her . . . Oh, shit, is that it? Are you both after her? Does Gary have some snazzy new suit, too?”

Now he did go red.

“You let Mom worry? You’re worse than he is!”

“No!”

He scowled this time, but I could see that, however momentarily, I had him on the defensive. I needed to take advantage of it.

“Okay, what’ve you found in here? Anything in the cases?”

“I can’t be going through them! It’d break the chain of custody and produce ongoing chaos. Every bit of evidence’d be compromised. Every opposing counsel would be in court. It’d be a nightmare for him.”

“Then what are you doing here? First you say Gary set you up, that he hired Karen to work you. So why are you waiting around here? He’s not coming back. They’re halfway to some lodge in Carmel by now. They’re in Santa Cruz for dinner. They’re drinking margaritas and toasting their success, clicking their glasses and laughing at you. And if they knew you’d been sitting here, in the dark, waiting, they’d be rolling on the floor.”

No reaction.

“But that’s a crock. How do I know? Because, John, you’re sitting here. Because you’re not that sloppy with your car. Because it’s a whole lot more likely you gave her your car—”

“So she could set up a crash in front of Broder’s mistress’s place?”

“Not your—”

“You thought I was—”

“No, no.” I was so relieved I could barely corral my thoughts to cover my mental betrayal. “Chief of Detectives Broder? Your boss? His mistress lives in the Victorian? He’s going to be after your tail when this comes out.”

“He’s already eyeing it.”

I nodded. John had a lot of enemies on the force. But Broder seemed to have had it in for him for reasons that had made no sense till right now. “So who’s footing the bill for this love nest? Is it her house? It’s a little pricey for a police salary.”

John shrugged.

“Two police cars crash in front of it, the papers are going to love that! Big front-page expose. Broder may be too busy protecting his own tail to worry about yours.”

“With luck.” But sitting there in Gary’s chair, his stiff body hitting the cushion in the wrong places, John still looked like he wasn’t leveling with me.

“Know what?” I decided to see if I had any advantage left. “Whatever this thing is, it’s yours and Gary’s. It could have cost me a job this evening, but forget it. Forget you ever saw me today. I’m out of here.” I strode toward the door, nearly tripping over a portable TV. Plunking it on the table, I flicked it on. “You’re so great at making up stories, here, enjoy some fiction by the pros!”

The TV burst on. “It’s stopped dead, the whole freeway!” a voice shouted over the clatter of a helicopter. BREAKING . . . BREAKING . . . BREAKING rolled across the bottom of the screen. The screen picture was of a roadway empty but for a few vehicles and something small in the center.

“What is that?”

John leaned closer. “It’s I-80, coming off the Bay Bridge.”

“But no traffic? There’s never no traffic.”

“Stopped. Means something major.” He pulled out his cell.

“We’re flying as low as we can, Cindy,” a male voice said on the TV. “Can’t make out exactly what the hold-up is. Traffic’s stopped in both directions. There’s something on the roadway. I’m zooming . . . it’s . . . it’s a body!”

The beating of the copter’s rotors spiked.

“Say that again!”

“A body, Cindy. I can make out blue, light blue, probably slacks. Maybe blonde hair. We’re too high to be clear.”

“We’ve got a report—unsubstantiated—of a shoe falling into the parking area, a woman’s running shoe. We don’t know if it’s connected, but it came down from the same location.

“Blonde hair, light blue pants and top. That’s what Karen had on . . . and the running shoes . . . Omigod, John!”