First Offense (28 page)

Brett shook his head, his lips clamped shut.

“Does that mean you won’t tell me, or the lab is no more?”

“Gone,” Brett said, looking away. “Everything’s gone.”

“I see. Decided to close up shop temporarily,” Reed said, trying to contain his excitement. Brett’s response had just given them the narcotics operation. “Okay, Brett, you’re doing good. Real good. I’m proud of you, buddy. Now, let’s move on, if you don’t mind. Let’s talk about the contents of that refrigerator of yours.”

Once Brett Wilkinson’s attorney showed up, the interview was terminated and Wilkinson was booked into Ventura County Jail on charges of manufacturing and distributing controlled substances. Any satisfaction Reed felt was cut short, though, by a call from the chief. “Get your ass in here, right away!” Rosemary Sawyer had called the mayor, claiming Ann Carlisle had seduced her son. Reed had beaten up her husband, and the police were harassing her entire family for absolutely no reason. Apparently the Sawyers had contributed a bundle to the mayor’s last campaign. Of course, the mayor had called the chief, and Reed got an earful.

The police association would provide him with legal representation if he was sued, but it would still be a hassle, and, as the chief pointed out, bad press for the entire department. But at least when Reed explained how Dr. Sawyer had provoked him, almost striking Ann, the chief did not mention any disciplinary action. Reed knew his pristine record was a definite plus at this point. An officer who lost his cool in an isolated incident was not the same as an officer who did it repeatedly. On the other hand, if the Sawyers continued to press, the department would have no choice but to order a full investigation. In the long run, it could even end up worse than a civil suit. They could insist on charging the detective with assault and battery.

Once Reed returned to his desk, he reviewed the status of the case. Brett Wilkinson had rolled over on his friends. He had admitted that Sawyer and Chen were manufacturing narcotics in the house on Henderson, admitted that Peter Chen was the chemist and mastermind, and then admitted that Sawyer was dispensing sundry pills to his social contacts within the local community. He didn’t, however, seem to know anything whatsoever about any drug runners from South America, and Reed had thought that was strange. Either he was scared of retaliation or Phil Whittaker’s snitch had conned them. Brett had said they did have a financial backer, though, basically a silent partner. He swore the person’s identity was known only to one person: Jimmy Sawyer.

So, Reed thought, there were more players than just the drug trio.

Every time Sawyer’s name had come up, Brett had started zigzagging all over the place. He had denied any information regarding Ann’s shooting, denied that Sawyer owned any firearms. As to the fingers, the young man had simply laughed. “What in the hell are you talking about? You mean, fingers off a real person? Don’t think so, asshole. Drugs, yes. Fingers, no way.”

So much for Ann and the finger sighting, Reed thought. On second thought, though, he realized Wilkinson wasn’t stupid enough to confess to something that serious. He might get sentenced to a few years in the slammer on the drug charges, granted, but even possession for sale was a far cry from attempted murder—or, in the case of the mysterious fingers, mutilation and murder. For the drug case he’d get maybe four years at the max. With what they called good time and work time, Brett would hit the streets in less than two years, about the time it would take to graduate from junior college.

The way the case looked right now, all roads led back to Jimmy Sawyer. At any rate. Reed thought, once he was apprehended, he could kiss his freedom and fast-wheeling life-style goodbye. Even if they couldn’t nail him for Ann’s shooting, the drug offense would violate his original probation, and Sawyer would certainly go to prison.

An idea suddenly flitted through the detective’s mind. Could Jimmy’s father be the financial backer? Surgeons didn’t make the money today they used to, not with the cost of malpractice insurance. If Dr. Sawyer was the silent partner in the drug operation, the supposition that he could have acted as Jimmy’s accomplice during the break-in at Ann’s house was not that farfetched. Granted, the idea that the doctor would risk arrest simply to bail his son out of a sticky situation didn’t fit. What seemed feasible, though, was that the doctor would do whatever was required to protect his investment.

Glancing at his watch. Reed saw that the day was almost over. Soon it would be night, and Ann would be alone and vulnerable. Did Jimmy’s father own a gun? Reed decided it was time to find out.

Chapter
15

T
hat evening, after downing a few beers and taking a cold shower. Reed called to check on Ann. All he had managed to come up with for protection was advising patrol to make frequent drive-bys. He could handle the surveillance himself, but he was too exhausted to remain alert, and for that reason Ann would be better off without him. If she thought he was protecting her, she would develop a false sense of security. Would they come back tonight? Reed knew there was a possibility, a slim one, but with Wilkinson in custody. Sawyer had to be nervous as hell.

“Hey, David,” he said when the boy answered. “What’s happening, big guy?”

“Nothing,” he whispered. “I think my mom’s asleep.”

“No,” Ann said, cutting into their conversation from the extension phone. “I’m just resting. Tommy.”

“I’ve been trying to reach you all afternoon,” Reed said, eager to hear her version of the phone call from Hank. “Claudette told me what happened in the office.”

“What happened. Mom?” David said, concerned. “Did something bad happen today?”

Ann was furious at Reed for bringing this up with David on the line. “Nothing bad happened, honey,” she said quickly. “I’m hanging up now, Tommy. I’ll call you later.”

Once his mother was off the phone, David’s voice elevated and cracked. “Why can’t you find the person who shot my mom?” he pleaded. “She’s so scared. Tommy. I don’t think she wants to be alone.”

“Well, son,” Reed said softly, “that’s why she has you.”

David lowered his voice to a whisper again. “When I came home today, you should have seen the house. I don’t know what she did here, but it looks like she had a big party or something.”

Not quite a party. Reed thought. “She needs you now, David. You’re the man of the house. Isn’t that what I always tell you? My pop died when I was about your age, and I had to more or less take over. You gotta stand tough, you know? Be mature.”

“Yeah, I know,” David said.

“I know this has been hard on you,” Reed said, wanting to console him, “but it’s going to be okay. No one’s going to hurt you or your mother. Understand? Not as long as old Tommy is around.”

As David was prone to do, as soon as the subject moved close to the subject of fear, he wanted no part of it. “Sure. Hey, I gotta go. I’m watching this great video movie. It’s about this guy everyone thought was dead and then he comes back. He was just hiding out to get the insurance money.”

“David,” Reed said, “you’re not still harboring thoughts that your dad is coming back? It’s not good for you to think that way. It’s what they call unrealistic expectations.”

“Oh, yeah, well, they also call it false hope,” David said. “That’s all the stupid shrink ever talked about. But see, I don’t have false hope or unrealistic expectations. I know, Tommy. My dad’s coming back. I don’t know when, but I know he’s coming back. And when he does, Mom and I will be happy again.”

Before Reed could say anything else, David had hung up the phone.

Ann was in the bedroom, staring at the ceiling. She had to tell David the truth about last night, but she couldn’t force herself to do so. First someone had shot his mother, and now she had to tell the poor kid that somebody had broken into his home.

Slipping on her robe, Ann went to check on him. “You’re watching a movie, huh?” she said, finding him sprawled on the sofa, his head propped up with pillows.

“Be quiet,” David said. “It’s almost over.”

“Look at this mess,” she said, running her fingers through her hair. His schoolbooks were in the middle of the floor, and his nylon parka and five or six comic books, as well as an empty sack of microwave popcorn. “I’ve told you a dozen times not to leave your stuff in the living room.”

“Mom,” he yelled. “You’re standing right in front of the television. I can’t see.”

Ann bent over and started picking up his things. “I just want to clean—”

“Great, Mom,” he said sarcastically. “I’m missing the end of the movie. Thanks a lot.” He stormed out of the room and slammed the door to the bathroom down the hall.

“It’s just a video, David,” Ann said through the bathroom door. “You can rewind it.”

When he opened the door a few minutes later, he found his mother hovering outside. “What are you doing?” David said.

“Nothing,” Ann said self-consciously, following him back to the living room. “How about some cookies?”

“We don’t have any,” David said.

“Maybe I can make some peanut butter cookies. Stay here, I’ll see what we have. I should have some flour and some…” Her voice trailed off as she wandered into the kitchen.

Shaking his head at her peculiar behavior, David cleaned up his mess and carried it all to his room. Returning back down the hall, he peered around the corner into the kitchen to see what his mother was doing. Offering to make cookies for him when she was always all over him about his weight struck the boy as strange. But it wasn’t half as weird as seeing his mother dropping spoonfuls of peanut butter straight from the jar onto the cookie sheet. “Mom, don’t you have to make dough first?”

“Oh,” Ann said, without turning around. “I don’t have any flour.”

Okay, David thought, tiptoeing off. His mother had gone completely bonkers again, just as she had after his father disappeared. What he had to do was get out of the house before she forced him to eat whatever it was she was making.

All the same, the mere mention of food had his stomach growling. If he hurried, he could get to the video store on the comer before it closed and rent another movie. While he was there, he could sneak in a candy bar. He grinned. If he was going to eat something fattening, he decided he’d rather eat a candy bar than burned peanut butter.

“This is stupid,” Ann said in the kitchen some minutes later, scraping off the peanut butter and dumping the pan in the sink to soak. She’d take David for an ice cream instead.

When she didn’t see him in the living room, she instantly panicked. Then she saw the VCR was empty. He must have walked to the comer to return the movie. She’d always allowed him to walk to the corner, but not tonight. Racing to the garage, Ann backed out the Jeep and sped down the street.

There he was, just ambling along with a sack in his hands on his way back to the house. She slammed on the brakes. “Get in,” she yelled out the window, throwing the passenger door open. “I didn’t give you permission to leave the house.”

“You’re not dressed. Mom,” David said, frowning as he opened the door and got into the passenger seat. Ann’s robe was open in the front, and her underwear was showing.

Pulling the robe shut, Ann shouted, “Don’t leave the house again, you hear me?”

David cowered in the comer. “I’m sorry. Mom,” he said. “You always let me walk to the video store. I just wanted to get another movie.”

Ann pulled the car into the garage and just sat there, taking several deep breaths to calm her raging fear. “David,” she said, looking over at him, “someone broke into our house last night. I didn’t want to tell you, but you have to know.”

Who?” he said, his mouth falling open in shock. “I don’t know who it was. Tommy thinks somebody’s just trying to scare me to keep me from testifying against him. It’s called intimidating a witness.”

David’s body became rigid, and he got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Ann followed him into the house, and they stopped in the kitchen together, facing each other. “Come here, honey,” Ann said, opening her arms.

“No,” he said, shaking his head, his shoulders twitching and his face flushed. “I’m not a baby. I’m not scared. If anyone comes here again, I’ll beat him up. I won’t let anyone hurt you, Mom. No one’s gonna hurt you again.”

Ann walked over and put her arms around her son, holding him tight. In a low and reassuring voice she said, “It’s okay to be afraid, David. Even I’m afraid. But everything’s going to be all right. No one’s going to hurt us.” Ann pulled back and smiled at him. “I almost killed the guy last night. I got my gun and shot at him. He was so scared, he crapped right in his pants. I mean it, right in the hall.” She paused, managing a chuckle. “Your mother’s pretty tough, you know. I’m not going to let anyone hurt us.”

“You don’t have to say this stuff to me. I’m not afraid,” David lied, jerking away from his mother and heading to his room. “That’s why my window was broken out, right? And that’s why my book report was ruined, right? It wasn’t the tree like you said. Why don’t you just tell me the truth?”

Ann followed her son down the hall, but he slammed his door in her face. She just stood there staring at it. Then she leaned her forehead against the wood and spoke through the door. “I’m not going to come in, okay?” she said softly. “I know you have to work this out yourself. But please believe me, David, everything is going to be all right. If things don’t get better soon, we’ll just pick up and move away somewhere.”

A few moments later, the door opened and David looked out. “Can we really move away?”

“I promise,” Ann said.

“When?”

“I don’t know exactly when, David. I’d have to get a job and find us a place to live.”

“You’re not going to move. You’re just saying that, just like you said the tree broke the window.”

When David got angry a vein stood out in his neck, exactly like his father. Every day her son looked and acted more like his father. When he slammed the door in her face again, Ann gave up trying to reason with him. She’d never been able to reason with her husband, so why would she think she could with his son? Walking to her room, down the same dark hall where she had been attacked, Ann felt a wave of depression she knew well by now. Just as before, someone had pulled a string, and her entire life had begun to unravel. She fell on the bed face first. Soon dark memories of the past were flooding her mind, against her will. Life hadn’t been that great with Hank. All those times he had exploded….