King City

Chapter fifteen

When Wade got back to the station, he found Charlotte at Billy’s desk, the two of them sorting through the crime scene photos.

“Thanks for sticking around, Billy,” Wade said. “You can go home now.”

“What did you do with the body?” Billy asked, getting up from his seat.

“He took it to the morgue,” Charlotte said irritably. “Where else do you think he’d take it?”

Billy shrugged and glanced at Wade, who took his seat and began going through the photos. Wade had to give the kid credit. Billy’s instincts were sharp. It was an encouraging sign. The kid might actually become a decent cop if he learned to trust his gut.

“You did some real good police work today,” Wade said.

“Thanks,” Billy said. “It was fun.”

“Fun?” Charlotte asked. “A woman was murdered.”

“What are you mad at me for? I didn’t kill her,” Billy said and walked out the back door to his car.

Wade found a close?up of the dead girl’s face and studied it. People who died a natural death often looked to him like they were sleeping. But he found that it was seldom true when a person was killed. There was no peace in their final expression.

He looked at Charlotte. “What happened to that homeless woman that we brought in last night?”

“I offered to drive her to a women’s shelter on my way home,” Charlotte said. “But she asked me to take her back to Lincoln Park, so I did.”

“You weren’t worried about running into the deputies we arrested or maybe some of their friends?”

“It didn’t even occur to me,” she said.

It was a gutsy move. Or a stupid one. But the same could be said of many of the things that he did.

“I’m sure Billy filled you in on everything. So what are your thoughts?”

“I think that you committed multiple violations of department protocol in your handling of the crime scene,” she said. “It’s not going to make things easy for the prosecutors when this case gets to court.”

“You’re assuming that this crime will be solved and that someone will be tried for it.”

“We always have to,” she said.

“I feel the same way.”

“So you’re telling me that’s why you did what you did,” she said.

“Yes, I am.”

“I think there’s more to it than that.”

“That’s because your father is a shrink,” he said.

“Probably,” she said and gestured to the photo of the victim in his hand. “Do you have any idea who she is?”

“No, but I’m going to find out. Let’s eat before we roll. I’m buying.”

He led her to the front door, locked it behind them, and walked across the street to the Pancake Galaxy. A hush fell over the twenty or so customers in the restaurant as the two cops came in. The loudest sound was Peter Guthrie’s wheezing.

Wade recognized many of the faces from the crowd at the crime scene. He nodded in greeting and made his way to the counter with Charlotte, where they settled onto the stools and picked up menus.

“What do you recommend?” she asked.

“Pancakes and apple pie,” he said.

“That’s an unusual combination,” she said.

He shrugged. “It’s tasty.”

Mandy Guthrie came out from the kitchen balancing several plates of food on her arms. She smiled the instant she spotted Wade, which made him smile too.

“Be right with you, Tom,” Mandy said.

She went off to deliver the food. Charlotte looked after her, then back at Wade, who perused the menu.

“Tom?” Charlotte said.

“That’s my name.”

“She seems glad to see you.”

“Then we must be making progress,” Wade said.

“Is that what you two are making?”

He didn’t comment, and tried to remain expressionless, as if he hadn’t heard what she’d said. But it was obvious to him now that he might have underestimated both of his rookies.

Mandy returned, stood across the counter from them, and held out her hand to Charlotte.

“I’m Amanda Guthrie. My friends call me Mandy.” She tipped her head toward her father, who was sniffing the smoke from the cigarette smoldering in his ashtray. “That’s Peter, my dad.”

“Officer Charlotte Greene,” she replied.

“What can I get you?” Mandy asked.

Charlotte ordered a salad. Wade ordered a cheeseburger and a slice of apple pie. When Mandy went back to the kitchen, Wade told Charlotte about the special neutral, protected status the restaurant seemed to have in the neighborhood.

“This helps,” Pete said, lifting up Old Betty from behind the counter.

Mandy brought out their food and, after attending to a few other customers, poured herself a cup of coffee and hung out at the counter with them while they ate.

Wade’s cheeseburger was as great as the pancakes. He was beginning to understand why everyone in Darwin Gardens shared a common interest in keeping the Pancake Galaxy safe and in business.

“Everybody is talking about you again today,” Mandy said.

“What are they saying?” he asked.

“They can’t figure you out.”

“They aren’t alone,” Charlotte said.

Mandy dismissed her remark with a wave of her hand. “He’s easy to understand. It’s accepting it that’s hard for some people.”

“So did you set them straight?” Wade asked.

“Hell no,” Mandy said. “That’s your job.”

The bell over the front door rang, indicating that a new customer was coming in. Mandy looked past Wade and immediately went rigid.

Charlotte swiveled around on her stool to follow her gaze and saw Duke Fallon coming in with Timo behind him. Fallon was wearing another tracksuit, his sleeves pushed up to show off the Rolex on one wrist and the gold chain on the other.

“Is the pie as good as I said?” Fallon asked as he came up and stood behind Wade and Charlotte.

“Not quite,” Wade said.

“I guess it depends on who you’re fucking.” Fallon glanced at Mandy before shifting his gaze to Charlotte. “Pardon my French.”

“ De rien,” Charlotte said.

“What’s that?” Fallon asked.

“French,” Charlotte said.

Fallon gave her an icy smile. “Did you read your horoscope this morning?”

“I don’t believe in astrology,” Charlotte said.

“Neither do I, but it’s something to read while I’m taking a crap. Your horoscope predicted that you and Wade would be badly hurt today. But here you two are, feeling no pain.”

“My back is a little sore,” Wade said. “Does that count?”

“That’s what happens when you engage in rigorous activity with your lower back,” Fallon said, giving Mandy a look. She looked right back at him. “My point is, what the moon and the stars tell you don’t mean shit here. You know why?”

“Because it’s ridiculous to think that the alignment of the planets impacts human behavior?” Charlotte asked.

Fallon looked her in the eye. “Because I control the universe on these streets, honey.”

“How much control do you have over this?” Wade took the photograph of the dead woman out of his shirt pocket and set it faceup on the counter next to his pie.

Fallon glanced at it. “I saw you out at the factory today, cleaning up the mess.”

“That wasn’t what I was doing,” Wade said.

“Then what were you doing?”

“I was processing the crime scene and gathering evidence.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because a woman was murdered, Duke, and I’m going to arrest the son of a bitch who did it.”

“You are?” Fallon asked.

“I am,” Wade said.

“What the hell for?”

Wade tapped the photograph with his finger. “Her.”

Mandy turned the picture around and looked at it. “Do you know who she is?”

“Not yet.” Wade picked up the picture and held it out to Fallon. “Maybe you know somebody who does.”

“Maybe.” Fallon took the picture from Wade and stuck it in his pocket. “What about the other women?”

“What others?” Wade asked.

“The crack whores. Maybe five or six the last couple of years. I didn’t see anybody processing the crime scene and gathering evidence for them,” Fallon said. “The only time I’ve seen that happen before down here is when the bodies on the ground were cops.”

“Things have changed,” Wade said. “I live here now.”

“Maybe that’s why your horoscope didn’t come true today,” Fallon said. “But you never know what will happen tomorrow.”

He smiled at Charlotte, acknowledged Pete with a respectful nod, and walked out of the restaurant with Timo.

Wade turned back to his plate and took a bite out of his pie.

“Do you know anything about other women being murdered?” Wade asked Mandy.

“No, but people get killed here all the time,” she said. “Most of them for crossing Duke Fallon.”

“Makes me wonder why he’s inviting me to investigate,” Wade said.

“Maybe he’s daring you to,” Charlotte said.

“It’s not that,” Pete said, his voice raspy. “Duke grew up here. This is his home. Nobody wants to find a corpse in their front yard.”

Wade worked on his pie and mulled things over for a few moments. Neither one of the women minded Wade’s silence. Charlotte had some thoughts of her own to consider, and Mandy had customers to serve.

After a time, the bell rang over the door again.

The new customer was a heavyset woman in her late forties with bloodshot eyes, tear?streaked cheeks, and a large mole under her left ear. She walked up to Wade. She was shaking.

“My name is Ella Littleton,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “The girl you found, her name is Glory. She’s my daughter.”