Killer Karma

12

He had to find Sara! Once she was safe, her name cleared, and Gao dealt with for assaulting her…then Sara could set the record straight with Sherrie, give her the true story. But first, he had to find her.

Cole shut out the anguish from Sherrie’s pain and his anger at Brewer to try returning straight to Homicide. Concentrating, he visualized the room from the perspective of Hamada’s desk, feeling himself standing there. Nothing happened.

Cole ground his teeth in frustration. Why could he go to Burglary with no trouble, but not Homicide, just down the hall? It made no sense. But, fine…he would ziptrip to Burglary and walk on down to…

…Homicide, the thought finished lamely as he found himself standing at its inner door. Cole fought an urge to bang his head against the door jam. Son of a bitch. This had no rhyme or reason. It was going to drive him bonkers.

“Someone’s playing games with me, aren’t they?” he said to the ceiling. “Well screw you.”

He stalked across the room to Hamada’s desk…straight through other desks, a typewriter, and the legs of the detective at the typewriter. Sending the typewriter ball into a brief spinning frenzy and Darrell Wineright starting in consternation.

Hamada and Razor glanced curiously toward Wineright. Willner and Galentree looked around from muttering together over Galentree’s laptop.

Dennis seemed oblivious. “…no trouble finding the guy,” he said. “He claims he doesn’t have any idea where Benay could be. He’s a flake, though. When I asked him about her I got this long silence at first, and then he said I wouldn’t believe it but he woke up this morning thinking about where she might go to get away from everything…because — get this — last night he dreamed Jimmy Stewart asked him about her.” Dennis rolled his eyes.

Hamada’s brows rose. “Interesting coincidence.”

Cole frowned. Lockhart never mentioned that “Stewart” — did he look more like the actor in the dark? — gave him Razor’s name to call in case he remembered anything? That would have given them, and especially Razor, real “coincidence” to chew on.

Maybe Razor was already struck by Lockhart’s dream. He had straightened in the chair, eyes narrowing. A moment later, though, he shook his head.

Cole elbowed him. “No, don’t you write it off as coincidence! I visited him. And Kenisha Hayes. Remember her name coming up last night?”

Razor’s only response was a flinch.

“Lockhart did have one suggestion.” Dennis handed Hamada a sheet of the memo pad. “Talk to a girlfriend named Kenisha Hayes.”

Razor started.

Hamada looked over at him. “You know the woman?”

Cole heard mental wheels race. Razor shrugged. “I remember Cole mentioning the name one time when he was talking about Flaxx Enterprises.”

Dennis nodded. “Lockhart said Hayes works with Benay.”

“Well, then…” Hamada straightened his tie. “I think a personal visit to the folks at Flaxx Enterprises is in order.”

Cole hoped Hayes could give them more information than she had given him. Even if not, the visit should still be good for seeing Gao’s reaction to Hamada’s questions.

Dennis sighed and started to heave out of his chair.

Hamada flicked him a glance. “I think I can handle it alone.”

Dennis relaxed, clearly relieved.

Cole grimaced. Before I get that burned out, please someone shoot me.

Oh yeah, somebody already had.

“Why don’t you run Benay through the computer.” Hamada pulled his gun out of a desk drawer and shoved it in the holster on his belt. “See if she owns a handgun. Then since the car ended up in San Jose, contact the airline desks there to see if she bought a ticket. And let’s get Dunavan’s case file on the Flaxx burglaries so we can go through it.” He headed over to the radio rack, then out the door.

As soon as Hamada disappeared, Razor casually stood up. “I think I need a cigarette.” He strolled for the door, too.

Cigarette? Following him, Cole hoped not. He intended to be there at Flaxx Enterprises with Hamada, but if Razor were, too, the better the two of them could discuss things…once Razor started seeing him.

Sure enough, in the hallway, Razor’s stroll abruptly became a running walk. He caught up with Hamada at the elevator. Cole halted behind them.

Hamada glanced sideways at Razor. “If you’re wanting what I think…it’s a bad idea.”

“I just want to ride along.”

Hamada shook his head. “You have too big an emotional stake.”

Razor’s jaw squared. “When a fellow officer’s been killed, are any of us objective? Look, I can’t sit and do nothing.”

“There’s a phone on my desk and a whole lot of airlines to check in San Jose.”

The elevator opened. Razor followed Hamada in.

The car already held some uniformed officers, a trio Cole recognized as Public Defenders, and a suit who looked like a private attorney. Cole walked up the side of the car and stood horizontal to the ceiling with his head above Razor’s.

Hamada lowered his voice. “You wouldn’t be thinking this Hayes woman can point you to Benay ahead of everyone else.”

Razor shook his head emphatically. “If she’s guilty, she’s all yours.”

He put some emphasis on if, Cole noted with satisfaction. So Razor was reserving judgement on her guilt. Maybe he had not dismissed the night’s conversation as just a dream. That was progress.

The uniformed officers and lawyers left at the ground floor. Razor stayed on for the ride to the basement. “Cole and I discussed Flaxx Enterprises extensively. Wouldn’t you like information on the local fauna before you walk into their jungle?”

The elevator halted. Cole stepped down to the floor and followed Razor and Hamada out into the garage.

Hamada raised his brows. “How long does the wildlife orientation take?”

Razor’s face went deadpan. “Too long to give you here.”

Hamada snorted. “That figures. But you can fit it into a drive to Embarcadero Center, I suppose.”

Cole heard Razor’s heart rate jump. “No problem.”

Hamada’s mouth quirked. He walked away. “Start talking.”

Cole had no interest in hearing facts and gossip he gave Razor in the first place. He might as well go on to the Flaxx offices and do a little surveillance. “Don’t forget to tell him how Flaxx and Lamper hooked up,” he called after Razor. So Hamada could understand that relationship.

According to Gina Galechas, it happened their sophomore year in high school, when Flaxx rescued Lamper from jocks who were stuffing him into a locker. Cole wondered what the real story was. He had trouble seeing Donald Flaxx as a defender of the underdog. However it went down, the deed won Flaxx slavish devotion.

Cole brought up a mental image of the reception area. Could he parlay the last successful ziptrips into another one?

Apparently not. Despite hard concentration, to his frustration he remained in the garage. Well, there was always the Dunavan Diagonal. He walked out of the garage and trotted skyward. On the way up, he glanced south toward San Francisco General. That trip made a kind of sense. However hit and miss, every successful ziptrip went to a destination he knew. Any place he saw, he certainly knew. So maybe he could zip line-of-sight.

When he had a clear view of the Financial District skyscrapers, he sighted on the dark bulk of the Bank of America building and visualized himself there. Seconds later he stood on the building roof. Sweet! This helped travel a lot…even with multiple jumps being slower than a direct shot. He still wanted to work that out.

The Financial District spread below him, letting him spot and ziptrip to the roof of the 2EC tower, and from there, lope down the side of the building a window he recognized. Bookkeeping.

He passed through the window and crossed toward the door. Everyone looked busy at their work stations, including Mrs. Gao. Cole paused beside Sara’s computer, the only one not turned on, and glanced toward Gao’s back. Even when he replayed Sara’s frightened voice in his head, Gao failed to look dangerous. What if he rattled her cage a little?

He closed his eyes and worked a finger on the power button until he felt the tickle of connection. Then he stepped up against Sara’s shelves to watch the computer boot and check out staff reactions.

No one noticed.

Cole smiled. Okay, then he would play some more.

He brought up a notepad program and started typing.

At the desk behind Sara’s, Joy Quon glanced past her own monitor, then in a double-take, leaned sideways for a better view around it. Her jaw dropped. “Kenisha, look.”

Hayes turned around at her desk in front of Sara’s. When Quon pointed at the monitor, Hayes reached over and swivelled it toward her. After a hop of her brows, she read the message aloud. “‘Gao, Sara told me about Wed nite.’”

That attracted everyone else’s attention, including Gao’s. She bustled back to the desk. “What’s going on?” Seeing the monitor, she frowned. “What’s this about? Who wrote it?”

Cole studied her closely, but detected nothing in her face or voice except annoyance.

“I don’t know,” Quon said. “I didn’t see anyone there.”

Lamper turned his chair to watch through the window of his office. With his narrow shoulders and eyes magnified by his glasses, Lamper looked the epitome of a nerd. His drawn face today accentuated that. Aviator style glasses and the turtleneck he wore with his suit just made him look like a nerd trying to seem cool.

Disbelief filled Gao’s sniff. She shut down the computer shut off, then headed back for her desk.

Cole fished around in the power button once more.

Quon gaped. “The computer’s booting again!”

Gao wheeled in mid-stride. After turning the computer off this time, she stood watching it. As seconds dragged on and the computer remained off, Gao’s lips thinned. She raked Quon and Hayes with a scowl.

Lamper’s phone rang. When he answered, his voice carried to Cole.

Gao turned her scowl on the rest of the staff, all standing and craning their necks to see Sara’s monitor. “If you ladies have had your fun, there’s work to do.”

Cole started to reach for the power button, only to halt at Lamper’s voice. “He’s here to see me?” Lamper’s expression struggled between annoyance and concern. “Tell him I’ll see him in a couple of minutes.” Then he turned back to his computer.

Like boss, like flunky. Shaking his head, Cole trotted out of Bookkeeping and up to the reception area. “Welcome, boys. Lamper will be with you when he thinks it appears he’s squeezing time for you into his very busy schedule.”

Hamada and Razor had taken the chairs he always preferred, those offering a good view of Gina’s legs. She gave them her brilliant smile even with her attention on a phone call. Though she spoke rapid Spanish, Cole caught enough to gather that this was the middle of a conversation to a girlfriend — interrupted by Hamada’s entrance and now resumed — about a date on Saturday. Hung like a what, did she say?

Hamada understood better. He grinned.

Gina saw. She started and quickly ended the call, cheeks reddening.

“I’m sorry,” Hamada said. “I couldn’t help hearing.”

The blush spread from her hairline into the deep vee of her blouse. “You speak Spanish?”

Better than he did Japanese. A result, Cole knew, of a growing up in San Antonio close to the Hispanic community…thanks to the friendship forged in an internment camp between Hamada’s grandfather and a guard named Rafael Navarro.

Gina’s phone rang. After answering, she nodded at Hamada. “Mr. Lamper can see you now. It’s down the hall on the right.”

In his office, Lamper looked across his desk at the seated detectives and regarded Hamada with a politeness that did not quite mask concern…or the usual surprise at the difference between Hamada’s appearance and his voice. “I don’t understand. If Miss Benay can’t be reached through the number I gave you, I fail to see what more I can do. I’m sorry. It must be important if Homicide needs to reach her?”

Standing at the office door, Cole watched Gao. While her eyes remained fixed on her computer monitor, she leaned toward the door, her head cocked…clearly straining to hear. He read no anxiety in her face, though.

Hamada gave Lamper a bland smile. “It would help us to know when Miss Benay told you about her family emergency.”

“She left a voice mail message for my assistant Wednesday night.”

That would be the call to this number. Cole caught Hamada and Razor exchanging glances that only another cop would notice.

“May I speak with your assistant?” Hamada said.

Lamper raised his voice. “Mrs. Gao, will you please come in.”

She came eagerly…and settled in the chair Hamada gave up for her, folding her hands in her lap.

Hamada sat on the corner of the desk that put his back toward the wall. “I’m interested in the voice mail message Miss Benay left. Is it still on your phone?”

“I erased it.” Her voice took on a defensive edge. “There was no reason to save it.”

And every reason to erase it, if Gao were lying about the message.

Hamada said, “How did Miss Benay sound?”

Gao looked puzzled by the question. “Sound?”

“Was she anxious?”

As if she had shot a cop?

Gao considered. “Yes. Which is perfectly normal I think, with a family crisis.”

Cole frowned. If Gao were lying, she was damn good at it.

“When did you last see her?” Hamada asked.

“When she locked the front doors after me at a quarter to six.”

Cole blinked. Gao left? Then she must have come back later. The security camera up front would have recorded it. Was there any chance they still had that footage after four days?

He walked out to Gao’s computer. With luck, no one would notice the activity. He opened a notepad and started work on the message. At the same time, laboring over the keystrokes, he listened to the voices in the office.

“Locked up after you?” Hamada asked.

“Miss Benay worked late.”

Rear vision caught Razor sitting up straighter. “Was anyone else here?”

Thank you, amigo! Check out the dream story. When those facts were corroborated, Razor would have to accept that the two of them really talked.

“Not to my knowledge.” Gao said. “What’s this about? Is Miss Benay in some kind of trouble?”

Cole listened closely to her tone. Was she concerned for Sara…or anxious to determine what the police knew?

Hamada’s face gave away nothing. “She may have witnessed an incident that evening.”

“Then why are you talking to us? Ask Miss Benay. Didn’t Mr. Lamper give you her family’s phone number?”

“Apparently she didn’t go home,” Lamper said.

Cole halted typing to watch Gao.

She sniffed. “So this time she’s been caught.”

Hamada and Lamper’s brows went up. Though Cole could not see, he imagined Razor’s did, too.

Gao looked at Lamper, her lips tight. “I’ve often suspected that Miss Benay has claimed time off for family concerns as a pretext to give her long weekends for partying. I’m just surprised she did it in the middle of the week. No doubt Miss Hayes knows where she is. Excuse me.”

She marched out into the main office.

“Miss Hayes,” she began, and broke off to stare at her computer, going rigid with outrage. “Miss Hayes! How dare you play your games with my computer!”

That brought the men to Lamper’s office door, Lamper moving more slowly than the others.

Hayes’s chin snapped up. “I never touched it!”

“She’s telling the truth,” Lamper said. “She was sitting at her desk the whole time you’ve been in my office.”

“Somebody’s used it.” Gao stabbed a finger at the monitor. “Computers don’t write messages by themselves.”

Hamada started. Razor froze.

“And this is like the one you denied writing on Miss Benay’s computer.”

Hamada shouldered past Lamper to come and peer over Gao’s head at the monitor. “It’s the same message, you mean?”

“No, but it’s the same kind of thing.”

Hamada read: “‘Ck security tape for Gao and Sara’s departure times.’”

Cole slid out from behind Gao’s desk through Hayes’s. As he did, he saw Razor’s eyes follow the movement, widening in shock. Cole waved. “Yo, amigo!”

Razor squeezed his eyes shut.

Cole rushed over to grab his shoulder. “Don’t do that and block me out!”

“Razor, are you all right?” Hamada asked.

Razor opened his eyes but looked away from Cole. “Just short of caffeine is all.”

“Short of belief in your own eyes and ears you mean, you bastard.” Cole bared his teeth. “Come on, man! I need your help.”

Hamada turned to Lamper. “Does everyone leave through the front door?”

Lamper hesitated, then nodded. “It’s the only door.”

“Then may we look at the tape for that camera?”

Lamper frowned. Cole almost saw the word “warrant” in his eyes.

Hamada must have, too. His expression went earnest. “If we knew when Miss Benay left that night, it would help us determine if she could have witnessed the incident in question.”

Lamper glanced toward his phone. “Excuse me for a minute.”

He went in the office and closed the door. Cole debated following and listening to the call, but based on previous conversations with Flaxx, he imagined Flaxx saying something like: “Let them see the tape. This is no different than giving them a peek at a store account. We have nothing to hide, remember? We always cooperate with the law enforcement — as long as it’s convenient.”

Sure enough, when Lamper came out of the office, he smiled and, moving gingerly, led the way across the hallway to the Security office. Cole noted that Gao included herself in the group.

In the Security office, Cole slid around everyone to the far wall, clear of the group.

The guard — Antoine Farrell according to his company name tag, young and husky enough to deal with most trouble — swivelled his chair from the bank of recorders and monitors. “You want to see a tape from Wednesday?” The overhead light gleamed on his shaved scalp as he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lamper. We don’t have those anymore. We record over them every forty-eight hours.”

Cole swore. He had been afraid of something like that. Hamada sent Razor an oh, well glance.

Lamper shrugged at Hamada. “I guess there’s no way to know when Sara left that evening.”

Farrell twitched. “You mean you want to see the reception area tape?”

Cole felt his scalp prickle.

Lamper nodded. “Yes, but what difference does that make?”

“I think it means he has that tape,” Hamada said. “Right?”

Farrell took a breath and looked up at Lamper. “Well…see…the machine for that camera ate the tape that night…after I left. I got the tape out and wound it back in the cassette but when I tried playing it, it jammed at the crumpled part.” As Lamper frowned impatiently, Farrell talked faster and faster. His tone went defensive. “So I was going to throw it away…and then I thought, it was running fine when I left, so it was the machine that messed up…so I kept the tape, so the next time the machine jams there’s proof it’s done it be- ”

Lamper cut him off with a sigh. “Just show us the tape, please.”

“Yes, sir.” Farrell was light-skinned enough that his flush showed.

He opened a drawer and pulled out a cassette. After pushing it into the slot of a TV/VCR unit sitting at one end of the counter, he punched Rewind and visibly held his breath. When the tape made no sounds of self-destruction, he let the breath out. “How much do you want to see?”

Lamper glanced questioningly at Hamada, who said, “Let’s go from fifteen minutes before the office closes.”

Cole climbed up to stand on the counter and look over Farrell’s head at the TV.

With occasional pauses to check the time imprint, Farrell rewound to 16:45, then punched Play.

The camera’s position above Gina’s desk let it catch all the reception area except for the desk itself. Cole watched employees file out around five. The last one, Gina, wiggled her fingers in farewell at Farrell as he knelt to turn his key in the lock at the bottom of the doors. Minutes later a middle-aged Hispanic woman appeared with a vacuum cleaner and ran it over the carpet. At five-thirty, she reappeared with a coat and purse. Farrell let her and himself out, locking the doors from the outside.

The time read 17:43:03 when Mrs. Gao appeared, accompanied as far as the front doors by Sara. Gao’s frown and moving mouth suggested she was leaving Sara with strict instructions. The roll of Sara’s eyes when she turned away indicated her opinion of those orders.

Watching the tape, Gao’s mouth pressed into a tight line.

“I take it Miss Benay has a key to let herself out?” Hamada said.

“Not a personal one.” Lamper shook his head. “When one of my staff wants to work late, they check out a key from Mrs. Gao or me. After they lock up behind themselves, they drop the key through a slot outside. It goes into the box there to the left of the doors.”

“Fast forward until we see Miss Benay leave,” Hamada said.

Farrell did so in short, cautious spurts. Donald Flaxx left just before six, letting himself out with his own key. The time imprint rolled on…18:15…18:30…18:45. No one else left or came in.

As the time passed seven o’clock, uneasiness stirred in Cole. Where was Gao? To catch Sara phoning him at seven, she had to be back by now. Did she have any other way in?

He heard Razor sigh. The sound punched him. In it Cole heard Razor’s awareness of the doubt that threw on his information from the dream.

Cole swore. He needed to kick this around with Razor. The emergency exit was the only other way in that he knew. To use it Gao would have had to tape the lock and climb all those stairs, an incredible effort he saw no reason for her to make. Why would Sara lie about who caught her?

Suddenly, with a crackle inside the player, the image on the screen froze. Farrell hit Stop.

“Nineteen-fifty.” Hamada turned away from the player. “So Miss Benay had to leave after that.”

“Does that make it possible for her to be your witness?” Lamper asked.

“She could have used the emergency stairs,” Razor said.

Lamper frowned. “Why would she do that?”

“She had to go out the front door,” Mrs. Gao said. “The key was in the box the next morning.”

And the tape jammed just minutes before she left. The coincidence bothered Cole. Was it a coincidence? But why would Sara jam it, assuming she had access to the Security office. The more disturbing question was why Sara lied about Gao catching her. That chilled him. He wanted to find an excuse for it. Otherwise, what else might be lies?

“If we’re finished here,” Lamper said, “let’s go back to my office and you can ask Kenisha about Sara’s whereabouts.”

“You should ask Inspector Dunavan, too,” Gao said.

Cole stared at her. If Gao thought he was alive, then she could not have been part of what happened Wednesday night.

Lamper stared at her, too. “Why would Dunavan know?”

Her lips thinned. “Because they’re sleeping together.”

Hamada shot a deadpan glance at Razor. Cole swore. Shit! Leach’s theory just got a boost in Hamada’s book.

Lamper stiffened. “Why- ” He glanced at Farrell. “Let’s go back to my office. Thank you, Mr. Farrell.” And he shuffled out.

Before following him, Hamada told Farrell, “Don’t let anything happen to that tape.”

Crossing toward Bookkeeping, Lamper glared at Gao. Dropping his voice did nothing to diminish the fury in it. “Why didn’t you tell me about Sara and Dunavan before!”

“Well, I- ” Gao flushed. “I was going to make Miss Hayes tell you, but then there was the thing with the computer and we came over to see the tape and…” Her hands fluttered.

Lamper exhaled in a hiss.

Cole spotted Katherine Maldonado watching them curiously from her desk down the hall.

“What makes you so sure Benay had an affair with Dunavan?” Razor asked.

“Because Miss Hayes and Miss Benay talked about it in the restroom on Tuesday. I couldn’t help overhearing.” Gao’s mouth thinned in distaste. “They came in while I was…well, in a booth. Miss Hayes asked how it had gone with Inspector Dunavan the evening before and did handcuffs and a gun on the bed table enhance sex the way Miss Benay thought. Miss Benay said it was an evening she’d never forget.”

Cole eyed Hamada’s poker face and groaned. “Good going, Sara. Tell the truth and make it sound like something else.” Though who could blame Sara for not wanting to admit how humiliatingly the evening ended? “Good going, Dunavan, you stupid shit.”

They reached Bookkeeping. Lamper stabbed a finger toward Hayes. “Kenisha! Joy, too. In my office!” He shuffled in and lowered himself into his chair.

Around the room jaws dropped. Had Lamper never raised his voice before, Cole wondered. Maybe not, considering how Sara talked about him. Hayes and Quon hurried into the office, faces baffled but wary. Cole leaned against the windows where he could watch everyone.

As soon as they sat down and Gao closed the door, Lamper said icily, “How is it Sara is having an affair with a police officer who has been hounding Mr. Flaxx for years with slanderous insinuations!”

Hayes and Quon exchanged quick glances. Hayes licked her lips. “It wasn’t an affair. We’d met him a lunch a few times and she just wanted a fling with him…to make up for missing the cruise to Baja.”

Razor started.

Cole circled behind the women to join him. “Yes…Baja. The cruise was real. So is everything else I told you.”

Razor’s heart rate jumped.

“Fling. Affair.” Lamper clenched a fist. “It was still- ”

“Excuse me,” Hamada interrupted. “If I might please have a minute before you ream the young ladies?” Without waiting for Lamper’s permission, he stepped forward to look down at Hayes. “It’s very important I speak with Miss Benay and she isn’t in Indiana. Do y’all know where I can reach her?”

Hayes blinked. “That’s weird. Last night I dreamed Inspector Dunavan asked me the same thing.”

Razor’s heart jumped again. Abruptly, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out his cell phone, as though it had rung. Holding it up to show Hamada, he hurried out of the office and Bookkeeping. Cole followed.

In the hallway, Razor thrust away the phone and paced in tight circles, shaking his head. His heart raced. Cole saw goosebumps on his neck.

“Hey, take it easy!” Cole longed to grab his shoulders and shake him. “You’re not going wacko. Let yourself admit that I’m around and you see me.”

But Razor looked everywhere except at him. Cole swore. What did it take to crack his resistance?

A minute later Hamada strode out of Bookkeeping. He raised his brows. “What’s going on, man?”

Razor pulled off his glasses and began polishing them on his tie. “Nothing’s going on.”

Hamada grunted. “Right. That’s why you keep acting like someone’s goosed you.”

Razor shrugged. “It’s just spooky…the computer thing…Lockhart and the Hayes woman both dreaming about Cole.”

“Yeah.” Hamada raised a brow. “You have any ideas about that?”

Razor shook his head. “Not a clue.”

“But you knew about Dunavan banging Benay.”

Razor jammed back on his glasses. “No! He wasn’t, in spite of what Hayes says.”

After a long stare at him, Hamada sighed and headed up the hallway for the reception area. “I appreciate loyalty but…Benay had some reason to shoot him. Let’s go see if Dennis is having any luck with the airlines, and start a search warrant for her place.”