Read Wear Something Red Page 17


  Chapter 17

  She walked the three blocks to the Nite-Lite with minimum discomfort and entered it to find Kate and Susan waiting to greet her. They were both wiping their hands on aprons tied around their waists.

  “We knew you were coming,” Susan said.

  Kate added, “Get used to that. Harry’s waiting for you.”

  Both women pointed to a booth in the far corner of the pub. It was separated on one wall from other booths by a door that led to the washrooms. On the other wall, the gap was provided by double doors to the Sauvignon restaurant—once owned by Wiley—that was attached to the pub. According to a sign over the doors, they opened at 5:30 pm Monday through Thursday and 4:30 pm Friday through Sunday. Six other booths or tables had customers at them, about a third of the pub’s capacity not counting the bar. Everyone took a good look at the new sheriff as she walked to her reserved booth.

  Harry was drinking a beer. “No hat?”

  “Forgot it.” She sat down across from him and swallowed.

  “All of Dominion would know soon enough that the new sheriff drank beer with her lunch.”

  She’d be providing another news flash for the DGN. “It’s too early for beer.”

  “I absolutely agree with you. Unfortunately for me, my liver is not a morning organ. It needs at least two of these by noon or I just shut down.”

  “What about your kidneys?”

  “What about them? We haven’t spoken for years.”

  As much because Kate and Harry bragged to her about it as she had already made up her mind, they both ordered the beef dip for lunch. It lived up to every adjective Harry and Kate used to describe it. She drank a large diet Coke, the one that still had caffeine in it.

  Harry swallowed the first bite he’d taken. “For the first twenty-five years, I had to deal with only two murders. The first one was a young, recently married couple. He was drunk and beating on her even though she had stopped breathing a long time ago. When we get there, Ron Holmgren, my partner, and I, he freaks, grabs his shotgun and starts shooting.”

  She swallowed her third bite. “I don’t think civilians understand how dangerous domestic disputes can be for police. There’s very little else that contains such insane levels of emotion in it.” Only something like the Crowley farm could match that intensity.

  “Ron took two blasts before he could even react. The guy was wide with the next two aimed at me, but he pulled out a pistol and kept firing. One grazed me just above my left ear. I emptied my gun at him and hit him once in the chest and once in the head. Lucky shots, the both of them; I’m no marksman.” He finished his beer and started on the second one as soon as Kate brought it to him. “Now I have tinnitus in my left ear that hisses at me all day long, not a ringing, you understand, a bloody hiss.” He touched his hearing aid.

  She had finished her beef sandwich and wanted to drink what was left of the dip; it was that good. “And the other murder?”

  “I think you know that one.” He had finished his meal and his second beer.

  She stared at the amber meniscus at the bottom of his glass.

  “A year in New York, mostly for training, another two in Los Angeles, one in San Francisco, and we get nothing. Within a year of coming to Portland, we get a hit on a cell that’s been activated just east of the city.”

  “The Crowley farm.”

  “And talk about lucky, we only found them because the idiots wouldn’t follow their own protocols. They left so many clues we started calling the operation Hansel and Gretel. We tracked them through their internet activities.”

  “But your luck ran out.”

  “Someone at their end picked us up. They not only warned them, they sent in two other cells to reinforce them. They were willing to sacrifice nine of their own to make their point. They were telling us they weren’t afraid of any of us: FBI, CIA, DHS. They are here and we are targets for them, too.”

  “A new breed.”

  She could feel the flash of heat spreading up her neck and across her face. She wiped her palms on her trousers. “Call them what you want. We went to the farm thinking we had the proverbial element of surprise, but they surrounded us and opened fire before we were even out of our vehicles. We lost eleven of our fourteen in less than fifteen minutes.”

  “No taking prisoners with these ones.”

  “Forensics estimated almost twenty thousand rounds were fired, and they had about that much again that they never used.” She wiped her hands again. “There were no mistakes, not by whoever was in charge. They lured us in and sprung the trap. Some believe there were more than just the nine; it certainly felt like there were more.”

  “You eventually lost Miranda Wong and James Torres, too.”

  “Miranda’s hands and arms had been burned. She had no choice but to go on permanent disability. James hung on for another month before resigning. A few months later, they both took their own lives on the same night.”

  “Then you left.”

  “I had intended on staying, but we lost Michael.”

  “In the last five years, there have been seven drug-related murders. Dominion has become both a center for drug distribution and a transportation hub. I know it has something to do with Wiley’s schemes, which is something I’m not supposed to tell you, but I can’t find anything.”

  “Does Nguyen have anything to do with Wiley? Were there problems at home? Was his business in trouble?”

  “I don’t know him that well, but I don’t see anything like that in his case. I don’t see anything at all there, either, as a matter of fact.”

  “A second pair of eyes might help.”

  “Honestly, Joan, I am working on that.”

  “And while you do, what’s to stop me from investigating on my own?”

  “Nothing and you would do an exceptional job, but, at the moment, that might create more problems than it would solve.”

  “What kind of problems? I’m the sheriff now, not you.”

  “I know it’s a lot to ask, but we’ll both have to be patient for now. I’m still waiting to interview Wiley. Every bloody agency involved has to give their consent before I can go see him.”

  He seemed to be considering whether or not to order a third beer. He might be more willing to talk if he had it.

  “If you do,” she said, “what kind of rumors do you think that will start in Dominion?”

  “You learn fast.”

  “I had a crash course over the weekend on the dynamics of Dominion’s power elite and the highly efficient gossip network in place here. Shana calls it the DGN.”

  “Kate told me some of it. Everyone’s been buzzing since you were hired. We’re quite proud of you.”

  “It’s my first day on the job.”

  “It’s the Crowley farm incident.”

  “How could that possibly make anyone proud of me?”

  “You’re from here, you were there, you survived and you represented Dominion and your country admirably.”

  “If Kate told you, then you’re on that side of the DGN.”

  “The sheriff in a place like Dominion can be active in the community beyond just doing his duty, or hers, as the case may be, or just keep their own company, stay neutral and play the diplomat as much as possible.”

  “Are you offering professional advice for the newbie?”

  “I’m just avoiding the appearance of trying to influence the new sheriff one way or the other.”

  “You should work at the UN.”

  “I would probably do as good a job as anyone else there.”

  “Are you being diplomatic about Wiley and Nguyen, too?”

  “You’re good.” He slid to the edge of the booth. “I better go before I succumb to temptation and order that third beer. Where would my reputation be, then?”

  “A reputation for public drunkenness, evasiveness and secrecy.”

  “That is diplomacy, Sheriff.” He placed some money on the table. “This one’s on me.” He retrieved his coat
from a nearby hook. “I know starting your first day with a growing frustration that you are being needlessly excluded from one of the most important cases in the nation is not the way you would have it. Rest assured, Joan, it also doesn’t sit well with me. All I can tell you for now is I hope to soon be able to share all of it with you.”

  “How diplomatic of you.”

  “It’s the truth, Joan.” He tipped an imaginary hat to her and left.

  “Fuck.” She finished her diet Coke and left before Kate or Susan might come over and dish out the DGN’s dirt-de-jour.