David Wiltse - Bone Deep

"Fuck him."

"Oh, try, McNeil. Please try, I'd love to watch."

"He's getting a little old, if you ask me. I think he's past it.

"He could handle you from a wheelchair."

"Sure, Chief. Whatever you say… But I don't think I'll make a career out of sucking up to him."

"Chief," Metzger interjected deferentially. Ir "What is it?" Tee said angrily, rounding on Metzger.

"Should I bring the dog?"

McNeil snorted. "You and the fucking dog. Learn to work with human beings. We don't need the damned dog."

"Yes, bring the dog," said Tee. "But don't let him out of the car until I tell you." He turned again to McNeil, who was now squatting in front of the tree trunk with the handprint on it. "You, leave that alone."

"What do you mean, leave it alone? I'm examining it."

"Don't. Don't examine anything. Don't touch anything. Don't even look at anything. Go back to the car."

"What kind of shit is that?"

"I don't want you misdirecting another investigation the way you did at the orchard."

"I didn't misdirect anything..

"I want you off this site. I don't want you to touch anything. Go to the car."

"You can't do this to me."

"Go to the car."

"Fuck that! I been on this force for ten years. You can't treat me like a goddamned rookie."

"You hard of hearing? Go to the car."

Metzger stood off several yards, listening, amazed.

"What do you think I'm going to do here?"

"I don't know, McNeil. You're always full of surprises-whatever it is, it won't be helpful, and it may be a lot worse. Now get your ass in the car."

"Fuck you, Chief."

"You want me to put you in the car?"

"I'll tell you what, old Chief, I don't think you can."

"Metzger, what are you standing around for? Get Becker, get your dog.

Go on." Metzger moved off reluctantly. McNeil stood his ground.

"Wait a minute, Metzger," Tee called. "I want you to witness this.

Failure to obey an order is a reason for firing that the union has to accept, but offering violence to the chief of police is even better."

McNeil smirked again and spoke in a voice only Tee could hear. "You better keep him here, Chief. Otherwise you might have to back up your big mouth."

"Do you want to say that loud enough for Metzger to hear, you little mutt? I believe that constitutes an offer of violence."

"It's an offer to kick your ass," McNeil said, still sotto voce.

"Can you hear me clearly, Metzger?"

"Yes, Chief"

"Officer McNeil, I am ordering you to go to the car and stay there until I give you further orders."

"Sure thing, Chief," McNeil said loudly, smiling and winking at Metzger.

"Your slightest wish is my command."

With one last look of insubordination, McNeil turned away from Tee.

Walking with Metzger toward the cars, he put his arm on the other officer's shoulders.

"Your car," Tee called. "Not the stolen one."

"Tell me, Metzger, do you remember this song? 'Mr. Leigh, Mr. Leigh, oh Mr. Leigh, Mr. Leigh, Mr. Leigh.' "I don't think I know that…"

"I may have the tune wrong, but the lyrics are right. Aren't they, Chief You remember it, don't you? It's about your vintage. 'Mr. Leigh, Mr.

Leigh, ohhh Mr. Leigh, Mr. Leigh, Mr. Leigh." I don't remember the rest of it, but that's enough, isn't it?"

Tee could hear McNeil's voice still tauntingly singing the inanity after the woods had hidden him from sight.

"You confined him to the car? What is that, your version of house arrest?"

"I lost it," Tee said. "I had this sudden vision of him running around just ahead of me, removing evidence."

Becker scanned the blood drops that surrounded the tree where the hand had grasped the trunk and fallen away. "There's a lot of evidence. We're not going to have to be backwoodsmen to follow this trail."

"I overreacted. His attitude drives me crazy, I just want to belt him … Now I don't know how to get him out of the car."

Becker laughed.

"It's not funny, John."

"It sounds like it. What's the serious side that I'm missing?"

"I lost it for a reason." Tee hesitated. "John… I've been seeing a woman."

Becker nodded, unsurprised. "Uh-huh."

"I mean, I've been, we've…"

You're sleeping together. Mrs. Leigh, is it?" 'How in hell did you know?"

"Body language."

"Christ, is it that obvious?"

"My line of work. It can be kind of hard to hide that sort of thing.

Does Marge know?"

"Of course not! God."

"Somebody knows or you wouldn't be telling me. You're in trouble, right?

You're not confessing just to cleanse your soul,I take it."

"McNeil knows. The fucking prick. I think he made it his business to know, I think he's been following me."

"Why would he do that?"

"To have something on me-maybe in case I got something on him."

"Like?"

"Like this." Tee waved his hand at the crime scene.

"You think this is his work, whatever it is? That's kind of a leap, isn't it? If it's his work, why wouldn't he clean it up? He knows how to fuck up a crime scene."

"Maybe he didn't know we'd be here so soon. Maybe it happened last night and he didn't know what kind of mess he left behind. I don't think he even knew we were coming here this morning, Metzger didn't say what it was on the radio. But he tries to obstruct me every step I take. I have the strongest sense he wants to keep me out of it. And you.

He particularly wants to keep you out of it."

"And just what do you think it is? Are you still after him for the Johnny Appleseed business?"

"Well… yes."

"All I see so far is a stolen car and some blood. Maybe somebody cut himself, maybe he had a bloody nose."

"Maybe. Maybe it's all my imagination because I dislike the guy so much. But I'm not imagining that he knows about Mrs. Leigh. He's even singing it."

Becker chuckled.:'That's not funny either." 'Sorry. I guess it depends how far removed you are from it whether or not you see the humor. It does look kind of silly, at your age."

"Don't preach to me. Not you, of all people. Just because you're happy now."

"Are you that unhappy, Tee?" Becker asked softly.

"No." Tee shook his head. "No, that's the crazy thing.

I'm not unhappy."

"So, quit it. You wanted something different, you wanted to get laid and now you have. Enough already. Stop seeing her and how can McNeil hurt you?" Tee leaned his back against a tree trunk, arched his neck so that his face pointed toward the sky.

"I can't," he said mournfully.

"Why can't you?"

"I don't think I can stop seeing her. I need her."

"Is she that dependent on you?"

"No, no, you don't understand. I don't think she has any particular use for me. I'm just a diversion from a shitty marriage to an irresponsible jerk. I don't think she'd care if I never showed up again. Maybe not even notice."

Becker was silent for a moment, watching his friend's torture. When he spoke it was with compassion.

"Then why, Tee?" Tee stared a moment longer at the patchy blue showing through the leaf canopy. At first Becker thought he would not answer.

"I want to be in love with somebody," he said, his voice thick. "I need to be in love with somebody. I need to feel all that again."

"Yeah," Becker said, inaudibly.

"I don't expect you to understand," Tee said, still not looking at his friend. "Most men would think I'm crazy."

"I understand, Tee. I am in love."

"I know. Now. But what happens when you're not?" he asked, with a finality that suggested that the death of love was inevitable.

Becker could think only of platitudes and rejected them all, not wanting to insult his friend's pain with the easy thoughtlessness of a clichd.

After an uneasy silence, Metzger arrived with the dog.

"Well, shit," said Tee, coming to himself as he heard the car pull up the incline and stop by the treeline. "Let's be cops. With Metzger struggling to restrain the dog on a short leash, the men tracked Kiwasee's bloody trek to the water. McNeil, released from the car without explanation by Tee, followed them sullenly. Some signs of the struggle in the water remained in the prints and gouges on the bank, but it was the dog that led them to the island. And the grave.