The Promise: An Elvis Cole and Joe Pike Novel (24 page)

W
E SWUNG IN
behind Pike’s Jeep. Pike and Scott got out, and I climbed over the seat while Pike stowed the bags and jacket in his Jeep. Scott met me on the sidewalk.

“Okay, it isn’t here.
Now
what?”

I wasn’t sure what. The only thing I knew was that quitting on Amy wasn’t an option.

“Keep pushing. Jon’s on her. She’ll lead us to it today or tomorrow.”

“Cole, let’s think it through. This poor woman isn’t looking for answers. She wants to kill these people, and she’ll kill herself to do it. She’s a fifty-one-fifty.”

Fifty-one-fifty was the LAPD code for a seventy-two-hour psychiatric hold.

“This is called helping her. She’s safe for now. We still have time to figure out what Hess is doing, and take down Charles and Colinski.”

“Maybe we don’t need to wait. She’s a middle-aged, middle-class lady who lost her son. She’ll give up Charles and Colinski and the rest of it the second we grab her.”

Pike said, “Won’t happen.”

“Meaning what?”

I picked up the answer.

“Meaning that person died between here and Nigeria. Amy’s smart, and stronger than anyone knows. If she lawyers up, even for only a day, the deal will fold, and Colinski and Charles will vanish.”

I took out my phone and called Jon Stone.

“What’s she doing?”

“We bought gas, hit the drive-thru at In-N-Out, and bought some flowers. Now we’re at Forest Lawn.”

“The cemetery?”

“Jacob. She’s been at his grave for about twenty minutes.”

Saying good-bye. Or confessing.

I told him what we’d found.

“She never intended to sell to these people. That’s why she’s pushing to meet the buyers. The explosives are bait to get them into the kill zone.”

Jon was silent a half second too long.

“She’s making it for someone else.”

“It’s for her. It looks like the jacket she’s wearing now, the same jacket she wore last night. Identical. She probably wears the twin so they get used to it.”

Jon made a long hiss.

“Tell me you got the putty.”

“Forty pounds and the detonators. The rest isn’t here.”

“It’s not in her car, bro. I looked when she bought the flowers.”

“If she comes back to the storage unit, we’re done. If she comes back—”

His voice cracked like a whip when he answered.

“I know what to do.”

I put away the phone, and turned back to Scott.

“Maybe she’s crazy, and maybe she’s a fifty-one-fifty, but this woman has been through enough. They took her son, the government can’t tell her squat, and here’s Hess, the big federal agent, doing what? Maybe this is all some Top Secret, deep-cover, high-level operation, but I don’t care. My interest is Amy. I’m going to take care of this woman. I’m going to find out what Hess is doing, and if I don’t like it, I’m going to take her down just like Charles and Colinski.”

I rattled to a stop, and found them both staring.

Pike said, “He gets on a roll.”

Scott seemed tired and sad.

“So how’s it play out?”

“Sometime tomorrow, they’re supposed to wire-transfer money. When Amy gets the confirmation, she’ll take Charles to the explosives, and the two of them will deliver the material to the buyer. The way it sounded on the phone, Colinski will be with the buyers.”

Scott nodded, and looked at his dog.

“One more night.”

Scott took a plastic bag from his pants, squeezed out a greasy cube, and offered it to the dog. Her delicate care surprised me. She picked the meat from his fingers as gently as a girl would touch a butterfly.

“He knows where I live. He tried to kill her last night.”

I didn’t understand what he was saying, and then I did.

“Colinski?”

“We found a dead raccoon in the yard, and poisoned meatballs. Raw hamburger, loaded with poison.”

He tucked away the bag.

“They couldn’t get close with the barking, I guess. That means they were trying. We have to stay somewhere else tonight.”

“You’re welcome to stay with me. Both of you.”

He laughed.

“Carter would love it. Me bunking with you would make his day.”

“Carter didn’t find poison in his yard. I’m serious.”

“I’ll stay with my girlfriend, or one of the handlers.”

He petted the dog, and shook his head.

“Al-Qaeda. Your garden-variety American killer isn’t enough.”

I wondered if Scott was scared. I had been hunted by dangerous men. They scared me every time.

“If we keep the deal alive, everything ends tomorrow. You won’t have to worry about Colinski, and I’ll make sure Amy gets proper help.”

“I’ll keep Carter out of it, Cole. I gave you my word.”

He considered me for a moment, as if he were having second thoughts.

“Are you going to bring in the police, or is this strictly DIY?”

“When she’s safe. Might even call Carter.”

Scott’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. He frowned at the message, and tapped out a quick reply.

“Speak of the devil. They want me downtown. Mug shots.”

I put out my hand.

“Thanks for the help, and for keeping your word.”

We shook.

“You’re a strange dude, Cole. Not as strange as Pike, but strange.”

Scott slid into his car, and drove away. I looked at Pike.

“Are we strange?”

Pike went to his Jeep without answering, and brought me back to my car.

Scott James

S
C
OTT DROPPED
M
AGGIE
at Glendale before he rolled to the Boat. The parking lot was empty except for a single K-9 car, but this was typical. Most handlers worked out at the Academy gym before their shift. Since everyone was together, Leland held roll call in the parking lot, after which everyone drove a couple hundred yards to an ex-SWAT training field behind Dodger Stadium nicknamed the Mesa.

Scott parked beside the K-9 car, let Maggie do her business, and got her squared away in one of the runs. He gave her his last chunk of baloney, told her he’d be back as quick as he could, and went to the office.

Mace Styrik, the senior sergeant-supervisor, was kicked back at Leland’s desk, poring over training logs.

“Hey, Sergeant. I’m leaving Maggie. Back in an hour or so.”

Styrik waved without looking up.

Scott left through the kennel to give Maggie a scratch, and went
to his car. He hesitated when he reached his car, and studied the distant surroundings. Colinski had watched for him here. This was where they found him, and followed him to Runyon Canyon. Scott wondered if Colinski was watching him. The man might have a high-power rifle, with the crosshairs centered on his chest. Scott raised his middle finger.

Eighteen minutes later, Scott parked at the Boat, and rode the elevator up to Major Crimes. Stiles met him at the door, but her usual smile was missing.

“Did you find a place for tonight?”

“Yeah. It’s going to work out.”

Scott followed her toward the conference room. Ignacio, Carter, and a uniformed lieutenant were waiting inside. He was surprised, but the surprise turned to worry when he saw Mitchell and Kemp. They looked as grim as five funeral directors. Kemp’s eye ticked, the way it did when he was trying to control his anger.

Stiles held the door until he was inside, then closed it and stepped to the side. Scott looked at Kemp, trying to get a read, and knew it was bad.

Ignacio gestured at a chair.

“Have a seat. You know everyone here except Lieutenant VanMeter. Lieutenant VanMeter is with Internal Affairs.”

Lieutenant VanMeter was a woman in her forties with rough skin and dyed black hair. She nodded to acknowledge the introduction, but said nothing.

“She’s here at my request, as is Lieutenant Kemp.”

Scott nodded. Mitchell’s presence felt strange. Here he was, a federal agent, keeping secrets from Carter and Stiles and the others, and only Scott knew. Scott’s throat was dry, but he thought he should say something.

“Why are we here?”

Ignacio glanced at Carter.

“Detective, show the officer, please?”

Carter picked up a tablet computer from the table and showed Scott a picture of himself with Cole and Pike outside Safety Plus Storage.

The picture rocked him like a blindside truck. Carter and Stiles had him followed, and now he was screwed.

Ignacio gestured at the picture.

“Recognize yourself? This would be you, an hour or so ago, with Mr. Cole and his associate.”

Scott wedged his hands under his thighs.

“Yes, sir. That’s me.”

Ignacio grunted.

“You don’t appear to have a drug or alcohol problem. Can we assume you recall the direct order I gave you to stay away from Mr. Cole? Do you recall this order?”

Scott glanced at Kemp, hoping for help, but found no encouragement.

“Yes, sir. I remember.”

Ignacio glanced at the IAG lieutenant.

“Lieutanant, please.”

VanMeter read from a notebook.

“From the Manual. Two-ten-point-thirty. Compliance with lawful orders. Obedience of a superior’s lawful command is essential for the safe and prompt performance of law enforcement. Negative discipline may be necessary where there is a willful disregard of lawful orders, commands, or directives.”

Ignacio was putting on the show to set the stage. They wanted
something. Scott thought he knew what they wanted, and it left him feeling queasy.

Ignacio nodded.

“Here’s the deal, Scott. Detective Carter believes Mr. Cole has information crucial to his investigation, and you probably know the true nature of Mr. Cole’s involvement. After your little field trip today, I’m pretty sure he’s right. So here we are, and I’m giving you another lawful order. I order you to cooperate, and answer his questions.”

Kemp cleared his throat. He pulled a chair from the table, turned it, and sat facing Scott.

“Eight-twenty-eight. It’s a violation of department policy for an employee to make false or misleading statements.”

Kemp’s expression was as hard as Ignacio’s, but Scott sensed the LT was warning him.
Whatever you do, don’t lie.

“I’d like to speak with a League rep or an attorney.”

Stiles sighed.

“This is so wrong, Scott. Why are you doing this?”

Carter stepped forward as if no one had spoken, and asked his first question.

“What were you and Cole doing up there?”

Scott looked at Ignacio.

“Commander, considering the situation, I’d like to speak with a League rep, or an attorney.”

Scott’s thoughts were racing. He wasn’t going to lie, but he wouldn’t give up Cole. He looked at Mitchell. Scott wanted to give up Mitchell. He wanted to tell Carter that Mitchell’s boss brought Cole into the case.

Ignacio said, “Lieutenant.”

VanMeter read another.

“Eight-oh-five-point-one. Cause for disciplinary action. Employees shall be subject to disciplinary action for acts of misconduct. Misconduct defined. Violation of Department policies, rules, or procedures, to wit, disobeying a lawful order, or making false or misleading statements.”

Stiles said, “Don’t do this, Scott.”

Carter picked up the tablet again, and showed him a picture of Pike carrying the bags and jacket to his Jeep.

“What’s in the bags?”

Scott shook his head.

“He took them out of your car. This is your car, right, the piece of shit Trans Am? They were in your car.”

Scott wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what to say.

“I’d like to speak with a rep or an attorney.”

Ignacio’s face was stern, but Scott sensed the man didn’t want to go through this mess.

Mitchell spoke for the first time.

“If charges are eventually brought, those charges will be federal.”

Ignacio glanced angrily at the fed.

“No one is talking about charges. This is an administrative matter.”

Ignacio conferred with VanMeter, and read from the notebook.

“I’m required to read this admonition. Your silence can be deemed as insubordination and lead to administrative discipline, which could result in your discharge or removal from office. You understand what this means?”

“Yes, sir.”

Do what we say, or we can fire you.

VanMeter placed a printed form and a pen on the table.

“This is an acknowledgment you received the admonition. Sign and date here. If you refuse to sign, I’ll mark the space ‘refused,’ and sign as the witnessing supervisor. Up to you.”

Scott signed.

Ignacio said, “I hereby order you to answer the administrative questions we’ve put to you, and give a statement for administrative purposes.”

The rigid formality was frightening.

“I’d like a League rep, and an attorney.”

Ignacio fired another angry glance at Mitchell, and turned back to Scott.

“To clear up any confusion, by being ordered to make a statement, nothing you say can be used against you. Is that clear?”

“I’d like a League rep.”

Ignacio’s jaw flexed. He took a printed form from the end of the table.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. This is the completed complaint form, signed by Detective Carter. The complaint alleges you willfully failed to obey a lawful order, and by doing so violated department policy. If you answer the man’s questions, I’ll trash it. If not, I’ll hand it to Lieutenant VanMeter, and she’ll open an investigation. None of us wants this to happen.”

He put down the first form, and held up a second.

“One-sixty-one-double-aught, already signed by the chief. Temporary relief from duty. If you refuse to cooperate, you’ll be placed on administrative leave, pending the outcome of the investigation. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

Scott’s mouth felt dry as an East L.A. sidewalk at noon.

“Yes, sir.”

Kemp leaned forward.

“When you’re placed on leave, you’re required to return all city-owned property. This means everything, Scott.”

Kemp leaned closer until his face was only inches away.

“Maggie.”

Scott wanted to give them all of it. Tell them about the woman and Colinski and the Homeland feds who were screwing them, and what Cole was planning to do, but he couldn’t make the words come out.

Carter asked again, and this time his voice was soft.

“What do you know, son? What’s Cole doing?”

Scott felt numb in a way he hadn’t felt since he lost Stephanie Anders. Kemp and Carter and the people in the room seemed a thousand miles away. His eyes burned, and he blinked, but the burning got worse. Carter’s voice was an echo.

“What did he tell you?”

Scott heard himself speak.

“We can sit here forever, Carter, but I want a rep.”

He wanted to see Maggie. He wanted to sit with her, and hold her, and explain.

Kemp sat back.

“Goddamn it, Scott.”

Ignacio glanced from Carter to VanMeter, and shook his head. He was a tall man, and towered overhead.

“Dismissed. Get out of here.”

Scott didn’t rise until Kemp took his arm.

“Get up.”

Kemp steered him out and away from the conference room. He turned Scott to face him, and leaned very close.

“Really?
Really?
You’ll be gone in a month. Is that what you want?”

Scott shook his head.

“Where’s your K-9?”

“Glendale.”

“Sergeant Leland will arrange for her care. Do you have other city property?”

“I want to see her.”

“The commander just sent your ass home. You lost her. Do you have other city property in your possession?”

“No.”

“Get out of here, and go home. Whatever’s going on with you and Cole, you’d better get that shit together. I’ll save you if I can, but don’t count on it.”

Making his way to the hall took forever. Reaching the elevator took even longer. Scott felt trapped in someone else’s life in a world he didn’t create. He wanted to start over, but didn’t know how. He wanted to take everything back, and return to the beginning, but here he was, and even pushing the button for the elevator seemed beyond him.

Mitchell stepped into the hall, and turned toward the elevator. He stopped when he saw Scott, frowned, and went back into the office.

A few seconds later, Stiles came out. She saw him, too, but she didn’t hide in the office. She crossed the hall to the restroom. Scott remembered something Cole asked earlier, and the memory sparked a tickle of hope.

Scott went to the restroom, knocked twice, and walked in.

“Detective Stiles?”

Stiles was closing the door in a stall when he entered. A shock of angry surprise flashed on her face.

“Turn yourself around, and get out of here.”

Scott stepped back, and held the door to the hall open. He didn’t want her to feel threatened.

“I’m sorry. I need to ask you something. One thing.”

The surprise passed, but she was still angry.

“What?”

“Why did you pull the surveillance off Cole?”

Her mouth tightened as if this was an unpleasant topic.

“This wasn’t our decision. Our friends at Homeland preferred to handle Mr. Cole, whatever that means.”

“Mitchell.”

“He encouraged the surveillance. This came from above.”

Hess.

Stiles came out of the stall, and made an exasperated sigh.

“Would you please come to your senses, and talk to Brad? You can save yourself.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

Scott returned to the elevator, and went to his car. The tickle of hope grew to a flame. Hess was the key. Hess was his last, best hope to make everything right.