Authors: Christopher Valen
In the evenings he would sit on his balcony with the dog and a cup of hot chocolate, watching the bald eagle that perched in the tall, dead oak along the shore. He would think about Colombia and his sister, Natalia, and the choices he had made that launched him on his mission and led him to this moment in time. He would wonder why justice was only a temporary salve for the wound infecting his heart, and why the peace that he sought was always as fleeting as the twilight and as elusive as a bird.
Rick Anderson had died on the way to the hospital from the injuries suffered as a result of the stabbing. Santana was one of the six pallbearers at his funeral attended by hundreds of police officers from around the state.
Luis Garcia was found handcuffed but alive in the trunk of Kehoe’s car. Garcia’s attorney, Alvarado Vega, eventually cut a deal with Pete Canfield and the Feds in which Garcia got a reduced sentence and a guarantee he would not be sent back to Mexico in return for his cooperation regarding Kehoe’s involvement in the visa scam. Santana promised he would keep an eye on Garcia’s mother while Luis served his time.
The highway patrol officer involved in the accident on the bridge had miraculously survived the crash with the semitrailer with only a few bruises and was already back at work.
Richard Scanlon had been arrested; a grand jury returned an indictment, and the archbishop was arraigned and released on $250,000 bail. One of Scanlon’s former students came forward and agreed to testify that Scanlon had sexually abused him while he was teaching at Seton Hall. Pete Canfield was confident the student’s testimony along with the video tape from the Riverview Lofts and DNA evidence would be enough to convict Scanlon for Rafael Mendoza’s murder, despite Scanlon’s not guilty plea. After nearly two months of deliberation, the Catholic Church had appointed a new archbishop. Scanlon’s trial was expected to begin in July.
Gabriela Pérez had called Santana to thank him for bringing her father’s killer to justice and to offer an apology for not trusting him. She had decided to become managing editor of
El Día
, her father’s newspaper. A free dinner was waiting for Santana at
Casa Blanca,
the restaurant she formerly managed, whenever he wanted. She hoped he would accept her offer, soon.
James Kehoe’s involvement in the Pérez-Mendoza murder case had generated a lot of heat at city hall, and the mayor’s standing in the pre-election polls plummeted. The current Chief of Police resigned and mounted a law and order campaign against the mayor. The Chief was expected to win in a landslide. Deputy Assistant Chief of Operations, Carl Ashford, was appointed Chief of the SPPD after taking much of the credit for solving the Pérez-Mendoza murders. The appointment momentarily assuaged the disappointment Ashford felt about his lost political opportunity.
Santana spent a week in Sante Fe with Philip and Dorothy O’Toole, visiting, relaxing and eating home-cooked meals. Talking through a homicide investigation with Phil, an ex-homicide detective, always helped Santana bring closure to a case.
After returning to St. Paul, he took Rita Gamboni for dinner at W.A. Frost’s. At a quiet candle-lit table, they ate steak and drank an excellent bottle of Cabernet.
She thanked him for keeping his promise he would not tell Ashford that she had known about the visa scam. Then she said, “Tell me something honestly, John. You baited Kehoe, didn’t you?”
Santana drank some wine and looked at her without answering.
“I suppose it really doesn’t matter now,” she said.
“Anderson’s death matters.”
“You shouldn’t blame yourself for that.”
“I didn’t need a backup.”
“He was your partner.”
“He was more than that, Rita.”
It would have been easy for her to say that he should have followed procedures and eventually Canfield would have made his case and Kehoe would have been charged with murder one like Scanlon. But she kept quiet. Maybe it was because she still loved him, or maybe it was because she had once been his partner and knew what he was feeling. He chose to think that maybe it was a little of both.
She said, “You would’ve gone with Anderson if the roles were reversed.”
Santana knew that what she said was true, but also knew that Anderson would never have put him in that situation. Anderson would have played it by the book. If anything had gone wrong, it would have been a procedural mistake rather than a fatal one. But Santana had never let procedures get in his way.
They talked about a cold case she wanted Santana to look into, and then, over snifters of brandy, she gazed into his eyes and said, “You want to tell me now, John?”
“It’s not easy.”
“You promised.”
“I remember.”
“You can trust me to keep your secret.”
He had trusted her with his life when she was his partner. He knew he could trust her now to keep the secret of his past. Yet talking about his mother’s death and how he had killed the Estrada brothers when he was sixteen made it seem as if it had all happened yesterday.
He took a long time telling it.
When he finished he gave her a smile to lighten the mood, but it felt tight and forced.
“I’m so sorry, John.”
Her eyes were warm and gentle, and as she leaned forward, closing the distance between them, she gazed at him with a tenderness that caused a lump in his throat.
“It explains a lot about you,” she said.
“Like what?”
“Like why we …” she paused, and he sensed her sudden reluctance to continue.
“Why we’re not together?” he said.
“Yes.”
“You’re beautiful and smart, Rita. Smart enough to know that I’m too much of a risk.”
“Physically or emotionally?”
“Both.”
“Maybe I’m willing to take that chance.”
“Tonight maybe, but not tomorrow.”
She sat back in her chair and let out a sigh of frustration. “You think I’ll let my rank get in the way of our relationship?”
“Maybe you won’t, Rita. But someone else will.”
“You’re always so damn sure of yourself, John Santana. Never any doubts.”
“Doubts can get you killed.”
“Maybe that kind of thinking makes you feel safer,” she said, “but it can also leave you isolated and alone. Is that the way you want to spend the rest of your life?”
That was a question for which he still had no answer.
An Invitation to Book Clubs
I would like to extend an invitation to book club members across the country. Invite me to your book club and I’ll be happy to participate in your discussion. I’m available to join your book club discussion either in person or via the telephone. (Book clubs should have a speakerphone.) You can arrange a date and time by contacting me through my website:
www.christophervalen.com
. I look forward to hearing from you.
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