The Blood Detail (Vigil) (5 page)

Together

We played the waiting game for four days, until by mutual acclimation to reality, the entire team decided to give up. Jessup wasn’t going to show, not to my condo anyway. Nobody pointed fingers, but only an idiot wouldn’t get that it was time to try something else. Annoyingly for moi, the something else the Detail came up with involved me in an evening gown, at a restaurant with one of my drooling male colleagues. Castellano let me choose between Racine and Douglass, and since not even a crazed vampire would believe I would date someone as tough to look at as Racine, his male model partner won the assignment. Douglass was grinning from ear to ear when I had to make my decision in front of everyone at the bullpen. That time I did slap him, but not very hard. I considered it fair warning.

For the new plan to fool anyone, though, we would have to make a genuine show of things. But we also had no idea where Jessup was or how much he was actually seeing. This meant, when the sun went down, everything had to be played for real. Douglass needed to pick me up at my place in whatever piece of crap he drove and show me the town. And I had to pretend to enjoy it.

At 3 p.m., I was escorted back to the condo and told to wait for a call informing me that Douglass was on his way. I assured everyone I had suitable clothing for what was now being called ‘the big date’. I was a woman after all and sometimes needed such things. But nobody, including Castellano, would take my word for it. To refute everyone’s biased opinion of me, I led Beth Ganna upstairs to get her approval of the dress. When she saw it, she said it would work fine, and then burst out laughing.

“Douglass is a breast man,” she said, sliding her fingers down the sheer fabric. “You’d better watch yourself.”

I had to admit, the dress was pretty low-cut. But it was also the only fashionable one that I owned anymore.

Ganna and I had been spending a lot of time together, and she’d turned out to be an okay cop. Because she was Polynesian, she looked enough like Angie where she could pretend to be her in public, granting her the thankless job of escorting me back and forth from work. At the beginning, I suggested bringing Angie herself into the fold, but I was overruled on that one. Too many novices, they said. This forced me to keep lying to Angie. We still hadn’t gotten together to hang out, and our hearing date was just a few days away. I felt like shit about all the subterfuge, but there wasn’t much I could do.

Douglass’ reservation was for eight. He arrived in a blue Camaro at a quarter till. I watched him through the peephole. He was wearing a smarter suit than usual, and I liked the color on him, charcoal gray. He rang the doorbell and I checked myself in the mirror I had hanging next to my door. Because my hair was already short, I kept it down. I’d also dabbed on a bit of eyeliner and painted my lips red, which I’d rarely done since I’d escaped the jet set world my father was so obsessed with. The infamous dress, now slung over me, was knee-length and black, and my tits were definitely on display. I opened the door so the gawking could begin.

But it never did. Douglass was a totally different guy, smiling and happy, and only looking me straight in the eyes. He said hello with a lilt to his voice and leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. Then, as he pulled away, he squeezed my arm. He smelled good, and I told him so as we walked arm and arm to his car, which he claimed to have rebuilt all on his own. Neither of us said much while we were en route. He didn’t take the 10, I did mention that. But he thought a scenic drive would be better, in case someone was following. I was annoyed at myself for not thinking of that. It was a good thing one of us was paying attention.

The old-world Italian restaurant he had chosen seated us at once. There was only one other couple in there that I could see. The place was smaller than I was expecting, but still very upscale—and not too far from my condo. The large front picture windows, which made the space easy to see into, were operationally advantageous as well. The spot was perfect, as far as I could tell.

Douglass held out the chair for me, and I sat down. He danced back around me and took a seat himself. The waiter tried to initiate some small talk, but Douglass cut him right off and ordered white wine for the both of us. Not long after, we were on our own and free to speak.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

My head tilted to one side, not sure what he meant by the compliment. “He can’t hear us, you know. Even if he’s out there spying, we can still talk normally. You don’t have to lay it on so thick.”

“I hear you. But am I allowed to say what I think?”

“You are allowed to say whatever the hell you want to say.”

“Then I say you’re beautiful.”

He crossed his arms, waiting for me to respond. I felt like I had no choice but to reciprocate. “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He smiled. “You realize that’s the nicest thing you have ever said to me.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything. We barely know each other. Give me some time. I usually warm up to the people I work with.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. You have a notorious reputation. You must know that.”

“Not everyone appreciates a person who speaks the truth.” I glanced out the window, realizing that I had no clue where the Detail was watching us from. I was so caught up in the issues surrounding the damn dress, I didn’t ask any questions before I left the bullpen. I knew I wasn’t miked up, so I could only assume that Douglass was. And there had to be some sort of team watching us out there, or possibly one in the restaurant as well. The Detail had been impressively thorough so far in their other field actions. Why wouldn’t they be thorough in here as well? I was about to ask Douglass if this was a real establishment when the waiter returned with our drink order on a tray. I looked him over as he poured the wine into each of our glasses, but his square face was not the least bit familiar.

“Are you ready to order?” he asked, leaving the remainder of the bottle near Douglass and standing with the tray hanging at his side.

Douglass again did the honors for the both of us, telling the waiter we would like two Chicken Marsalas—my favorite dish. There was no way he could pull a bullseye like that without outside assistance.

“You seem to know a lot about me,” I said once the waiter was out of earshot.

Douglass took a drink of his wine. “Is this really what we want to talk about?”

“Yeah, I think need to. Obviously someone has been giving up a few of my secrets. And since I’m only friendly with a couple of people on the force, I wonder who that could be? Burt Kendrick maybe?”

“I will not give up my sources.” He set down his glass. “But this defensiveness is the kind of thing that people point out about you. You are not the least bit trusting and you domineer every situation you are placed into. One of your superiors even went as far as to say you are not a team player. Do you realize how damaging that is to a cop’s reputation? The literal kiss of death.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d heard this crap, but I’d been the one who had pushed things, so I couldn’t get too defensive.

“I neither condone or reject anything you’ve regurgitated. But you’ve been working with me for a decent stretch now. What do you think of my ability to be a team player?”

“I can’t say, not with any perspective. I think you’re beautiful, remember? That kind of trumps everything else, at least in my mind.”

I leaned back, instantly suspicious. “Was tonight your idea, Detective? Is all of this your lame way of getting close to me?”

“You don’t seem to be having such a bad time.”

“I never said that I was. But I might start to if I find out that tonight has been one big scam.”

“It’s not a scam.”

“The Detail is watching us then?”

“They are. And listening to us.”

“And you don’t mind letting your feelings be known while everyone you work with is listening in?”

“Only Sam is listening in. And he knows precisely how I feel about you. He’s known since the moment we met at the murder scene.”

“Then maybe I should have picked him for this date,” I said, in an attempt to knock Douglass down a peg or two. “Racine would never use an important operation to try and get into my pants.”

“Give him half a chance he might. I’m surprised the whole department doesn’t hit on you. There are not many cops who look like you do.” His eyes widened and his head began to sway. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.”

His obsession with my looks irked me, so I glanced away. “I loathe compliments. You’re not going to seduce me that way.”

When I turned back a few seconds later, he was still staring at me.

“You’re lying,” he said. “You love it.”

“I’m many things, but I’m no liar. You, on the other hand, could be that or worse, and I’m starting to get concerned. I seem to have picked up two lunatic admirers. Tell me, Douglass, am I going to need special protection from
you
after all this is over?”

“Come on,” he said, his voice taking on a whine. “Can you just call me Mac from now on?”

“Why? Is that important to you?”

“Yeah, it is. You always refer to me by my last name, and I’d rather you didn’t. My friends call me Mac. My partner calls me Mac. There’s no reason you can’t call me that as well. It’s what everyone at work calls me.”

He had a point. “Mac is short for what…McCarthur?

“Mackenzie.”

I made a sickened face, my nostrils flaring. “Isn’t that a girl’s name?”

“It can be used either way. But that’s why I prefer to be called Mac. That and the fact that my last name is also a first name. All I can say is my parents weren’t thinking straight when they named me.”

“Oh, don’t sell them short. Maybe they realized something you still haven’t.”

The kitchen door swung open and the smell of sautéed mushrooms wafted inward. I was hungrier than I thought, and the food was taking forever, like it always does in the swankier establishments. I began to eye my glass of wine. I’d become incredibly relaxed and wanted to partake, but I knew I needed my wits about me, for any number of reasons. It was best to wait. The most I could allow myself was a few swallows with dinner, and that was it.

Before our chitchat could continue, the waiter zoomed up behind me with a hand-pushed dinner cart. I told him I had the Marsala, but neither he nor my ‘date’ laughed. I thought it was a fairly decent joke, but I seemed to be in the minority on that one. The waiter gave us both our meals and made himself scarce, declaring that he would be back in a moment, in case there was something else we needed.

I dug right in. So did Mac. The name conversation was dropped, and I attempted to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. This wasn’t the strangest way a man had ever tried to tell me he was attracted to me. The truth was, most men were too afraid of me to even broach the subject. Mac may not have been thinking things through, but he did have some balls on him, which I counted as one of his better qualities. I also liked that his light blue eyes glistened every time he looked at me, and that his smile seemed so genuine. The guy was just incredibly fucking handsome, but I was not about to say that out loud.

We finished our meals, doing next to no talking in the process. I think both our minds were elsewhere. He paid the bill and asked me what I wanted to do next. I suggested we go back to my place and make it look like someone was getting lucky. He didn’t argue. While we were in his car, I looked around for a radio so I could call in for an update. He said there wasn’t one. Updates would have to wait until we were safely inside the house.

We pulled in front of my condo. He got out, opened my door, and held my hand as we strolled up the walkway.

“You do realize,” I said. “There is absolutely no chance that I’m going to fuck you. I’m only taking this act so far.”

“And I wouldn’t want you to. Not yet. Not with all those cameras in your place.” He leaned in super close to me, pressing his waist against mine. “But I don’t want this to be the only time we go out.” After a long and mutual gaze, he kissed me, his fingers grazing the small of my back and sliding downward until he had completely cupped my ass. You can say what you will about my professionalism, but the guy had my head spinning. It had been months, and apparently, I was more hard up than I realized.

“I need you to unlock the door,” he whispered. “We only have to give him so much of a show. That is, unless you like putting on a show?”

I dug out my house key from my purse and slipped it into the upper lock. I went through the doorway first, his hand still grasping at my hip. It must have been the whole ‘on the job’ thing. Because right there and then, I’d never wanted a man more in my life.

On Patrol

We had dinner again the next night, and went to see a movie the night after that. Each of the operations went smoothly, with no trouble, no sex, and absolutely no sign of Jessup.

Getting me back into a squad car, phase three of our ever-evolving plan, was moved up with little fanfare to night eight. Beth Ganna would continue to play my partner, outfitting herself into an actual uniform for the first time in years. Personally, I was feeling loads better. My bad wrist was actually usable again. A twinge of pain remained, but it was nothing I couldn’t manage.

When I arrived at the building early that afternoon, my old squad car appeared to be waiting for me in a front parking spot. I wandered over to check the clunker out. Upon closer inspection, I figured out that it wasn’t the same vehicle. The license plate matched, but there were no dents on the driver’s side door or chips in the front windshield. It couldn’t be the one Angie and I normally used, not with how slow Maintenance was about fixing things. A squad car was still a squad car, however—and it would certainly fool the general public.

We endured a full rundown of the evening’s planned events in the conference room, and then Beth and I left the building in our stand-in black and white and headed north toward my old beat. We were to remain on major thoroughfares until told differently. Three follow cars would have us in their sights at all times. These assigned teams were good at remaining invisible, too. I never saw a single trace of their presence the entire night.

Before we left, I brought up the possibility of running into unrelated trouble. We were going to be in a police vehicle after all—and people in need tended to approach patrolmen when they encountered them on the streets. No one believed that such a chance existed, since we were only taking staged calls. Yet a half hour into our patrolling, an elderly woman flagged us down outside of her squat little home. I rolled my window down and greeted her. The woman approached the vehicle and told me she smelled gas and wanted one of us to go inside the home to see if we could smell it too. I couldn’t do it myself because I was still officially suspended, according to Castellano’s latest proclamation—although I did have special dispensation to be assisting the Detail. Assisting the public was another matter altogether. I suggested Beth go in and do it as rapidly as possible, but she did not feel good about leaving me alone, so she radioed for assistance. As we waited for said assistance to arrive, the old woman grew more and more impatient. Her pets were inside and she needed our help—wasn’t that what police people were supposed to do? Unable to leave the vehicle, I felt helpless, primarily because the woman was not wrong in her assessment. Three minutes after the call went in, Mac and Racine pulled up behind our squad car, and waved us onward. We wished the lady luck and pulled back into traffic. The woman gave no acknowledgment. She was too wrapped up in the explanation of her plight to her handsome new savior.

“You see. I told them we would run into some kind of trouble,” I said. “But did they listen to me?”

Beth slid into the left turn lane at the intersection. The light was going from yellow to red as she said, “The bigwigs assume the world operates only in the manner they wish it to. They do not care about such things as reality. Life is only about what they want or need. And let’s not forget, it’s been a long time since any of them have been out on patrol. The chances of a decent sense of recall from that group of lightweights is way, way out of the realm of possibility.”

I grinned. I couldn’t have said it better myself.

The light shifted to green and Beth turned southbound.

“Mac sure was looking good today,” she said.

“Was he? I didn’t really notice. I could only see him out of the corner of my eye.”

“I hate to pry, but what’s going on with the two of you? You’ve thrown the whole office into a tizzy. Our usually tough-minded co-workers have transformed into these gossiping little teenagers.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know it had become such a big thing. “He’s a good looking guy, I guess. And he’s made it clear he’s got feelings for me. I’m just not sure if it’s mutual. I’m not one of those sickening kind of girls whose life revolves around finding a husband. The idea of that bores me. I just want to do the job.”

I could tell that Beth was as caught up in the soap opera of it all as much as anyone else. When she talked about Mac and me, her eyes went all dreamy.

“I always thought Mac looked like that movie star. I can’t think of the guy’s name he reminds me of.” She patted the wheel and twisted in her seat as she tried to force herself to recall.

“Greg Tonell,” I said. “We saw one of his movies last night. It was incredibly stupid. But Mac likes the guy, probably because he resembles him so much.”

Beth’s head bounced up and down. “That’s it…
yeah.
That’s who I was thinking of. He looks almost exactly like Greg Tonell.”

He did, particularly if you squinted. But I could have cared less.

“You’re gorgeous like that, too,” she said, unprompted. “Not that you look like someone. But you do have that movie star quality about you. People just don’t look like you in real life. You glow. Guys must be chasing after you all the time.”

I stared out my window. “Yeah, all the time.”

Mercifully, the conversation drifted away from my incandescent attractiveness and we returned to the patrol patterns we had sketched out back at the bullpen—around and around ten square blocks, making ourselves as visible as was humanly possible. Our first staged emergency call was at a strip mall where we had to go to the back room of a grocery store to arrest a ‘shoplifter’. While we were there we shared some coffee with two of the guys from the Detail. After an appropriate amount of time had passed, we put one of the guys, the one who was playing the shoplifter, into cuffs and frog-marched him out to the car which was parked out in front of the busy storefront. A couple of streets down, we handed him off to two more of our team in front of the station—my old station. I had to be careful not to be seen, so the exchange was done in a side parking lot. It was completely against procedure—but unless Jessup was a cop in a former life—he’d never be able to tell the difference.

Our next handful of calls were staged domestics, loaded up with people from the Detail I had yet to meet. All four ‘incidents’ went down as expected, and then Beth and I went back to patrolling. This time out, we were given free rein to swing through as many dark and unsavory neighborhoods as we could before the sun came up. The hope was to draw some kind of visual on Jessup. Once we got back to the bullpen, we found out that we had done just that. The suspect had been spotted three times, observing from assorted rooftops, and up high on an overhanging tree branch.

Our patience had paid off, which set up the next night perfectly.