Sin City Homicide

3

By Friday, Stanton had passed his cases over to the detective brought in to cover for him. He was tall and lanky, with wrinkled suits and worn-out shoes, but he struck Stanton as honest and hardworking. After he had given him the last case, Stanton was notified that Assistant Chief Ho wanted to see him at the SDPD headquarters uptown before the day’s end.

Stanton left the office around three o’clock to go surfing. He might be in Vegas for a while, and he hoped missing his morning ritual of being out on the waves wouldn’t be too much for him. When he was married, every vacation they went on had to be near a beach, and Stanton hadn’t left San Diego since the divorce. When he’d agreed to help Hall, he hadn’t considered that it would mean taking a break from surfing.

The waves were mediocre, and he sat out on the water for a long time, lying flat with his stomach against the board. Letting his legs dangle in the waves, he let the surf push him back toward shore. The water was murky, but the sun was bright, and there were few clouds. He caught a glimpse of a group of kids getting surfing lessons on the beach, and he smiled as he watched them. He had tried to teach Matt and Jon Junior how to surf several times, but neither had been interested. They were obsessed with football because Melissa’s boyfriend played for the Chargers. She had met him at the gym, where she worked as a personal trainer. He’d heard through mutual friends that the relationship was serious.

Stanton paddled in softly, stood up when he was twenty feet out, and walked back to the beach. He watched the kids for a while and instinctually scanned around for single men watching them as well. His pleasant thoughts were immediately followed by an unpleasant one of what others could be doing or thinking. His mind had few barriers, and thoughts, both pleasant and horrific, flooded his consciousness every second. Orson was right: he did understand the monsters inside and out.

He went to the car and opened the passenger door to prevent prying eyes as he changed into jeans and a button-down shirt, then he hopped onto the interstate. He drove slowly, listening to the jazz station, until he pulled into the new SDPD headquarters’s parking lot. He never ceased to be amazed how clean the grounds were kept, considering his own precinct had recently developed a mouse problem. Several times, he had found droppings in his drawers and filing cabinets. Here, trees were planted in a pleasing arrangement, not too many and not too few. He had to sit in his car for a few minutes and prepare. A lot of his ghosts haunted that building.

When he finally got out of the car, he took his time getting to the front entrance. The layout was exactly the same as it had been the last time he was there, meeting with Ho about a case that had ended with him receiving second-degree burns to over ten percent of his body. He nodded hello to a security guard at the front desk who didn’t nod back, then went to the elevators and hit the button for the fifth floor.

His heart racing, Stanton stepped off the elevators and had to consciously calm himself. The map he didn’t want to see was still posted. It was titled “Where in the World is Eli Sherman?” Sherman was his former partner, and he’d put two slugs into Stanton when Stanton discovered what Sherman had been hiding from him. In the nearly five years that had passed since Sherman escaped from custody, the map had filled with pushpins marking locations where Sherman had allegedly been spotted. There was currently no active search for him, just a spot on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list.

“Jon,” Ho said, walking up to him with a cup of coffee in hand, “how you been?”

“Good.”

“Did you see the map? We changed the name from Noah to Eli.”

“I did see that. What happened?”

“Turned out Noah wasn’t his real name. We thought it was Eli ‘cause of a birth certificate we came across in San Francisco, but that turned out to be fake, too. We don’t know what his real name was. Isn’t that weird? Guy worked here twelve years, and we don’t know his name.”

“What is it you wanted, Chin?”

“Come on back to my office. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Stanton followed him down the hall. Ho swiped his badge at a thick door, and it clicked open.

“You haven’t been out here for some time,” Ho said.

“No, not since you guys settled the lawsuit with Putnam’s family.”

“Oh, yeah, that pedophile that jumped off the building, right?”

Stanton knew Ho remembered, and it bothered him that the other man was so dismissive about it. “Yeah” was all he said.

“I know you didn’t do anything wrong in that case, and the chief knew it, too. We were just sick of it in the papers all the time, and the decision was made to settle.”

They walked into his office, which was immaculate, and the smell wood polish lingered in the air. Vivaldi was playing on the computer.

“Have a seat.”

Stanton sat across from him and waited for Ho to close the windows on his computer before turning to him.

“Do you know why we’re sending you to Las Vegas?” Ho asked.

“Orson promised you something. Either money or resources.”

“Yeah, he did. They’re cutting us in on their grant. Some county grant they have out there for law enforcement. Orson promised me and the chief that he could secure the grant for SDPD. It has to do with some forensics seminars. They’re going to hold them here and sell tickets to law enforcement around the country. They get a grant to set it up and pay for the speakers. We’re going to split the ticket sales. Should be pretty good for our reputation to host something like that, too.” He took a sip of coffee. “The question I have for you is: does he have that kind of juice? He’s just an assistant sheriff.”

“Orson’s also the son-in-law of the mayor of Las Vegas. If he says he can do it, he probably can.”

“Hm. Good to know. So how long you gonna be out there?”

“I don’t know. I told him I’m just going to look at some evidence.”

“Well, take as long as you need. We promised full cooperation.”

“Fine. Anything else?”

“You know, we used to be friends once.”

“Once, Chin. Before you hung me out to dry on that Putnam suit. You offered me as a sacrifice so the county wouldn’t have to pay for the lawsuit.”

“It wasn’t anything personal. It was a lot of money, Jon. We would have done it to any officer. Sometimes you gotta take one for the team.”

“Is that all? I have to pack.”

“Yeah, that’s all. You’re dismissed, Detective Stanton.”

Stanton rose and began to walk out.

Ho said, “And Jon? Keep your nose clean out there. We need this money. Your suit still ended up costing the county, and we got a budget shortfall now. If this falls through, it’s going to mean people’s jobs.”

Stanton saw the Rolex watch on Chin’s wrist. “Nice watch.” He turned and walked out without looking back.