Dee Henderson - The Witness

“He drives a blue four-door Chevy or a white Dodge company car,” Marsh alerted the officer.

“White Dodge, east side of the street; he just unlocked doors,” the SWAT officer confirmed. “He’s going to be heading west on Park Avenue, and that will put him into one-way traffic at Lincoln Avenue. You’d best stop him before that merge or he’ll be able to use the heavy off-ramp traffic to his advantage.”

“Mayfield, take him as soon as he passes Piedmont Road,” Luke ordered.

“10-4.”

Luke looked at his SWAT leader. “Move inside the apartment building and take that room as soon as you’re in position.”

“Yes, sir.”

Luke moved forward with the communications officer to the SWAT departure point and watched the team slip into the apartment building and head for the third floor. The waiting began. Four minutes , Luke thought, able to think through the moves he had made so many times himself in the past.

Shots rang out.

Irishman, that was Luke’s first impression, and the second, overwhelming relief. There wasn’t an officer down.

“He was shooting before we popped the lock on the door-two through the wall, four into the door as it opened. Frank took him down with one shot to the chest. Sorry, Boss. He’s not going to be able to help us identify his employer.”

Luke’s own assessment of the scene was showing more personal courage than that concise review wanted to assign. The men had not hesitated to deal with the incoming fire and respond as a unit; that spoke of solid leadership and honed teamwork. “You did the job with dispatch and no one else hurt. I’d say that was a solid success. Tell your guys to debrief separately with the deputy chief, then stand down; they’ve got my personal thanks.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And, Jim?”

“Sir?”

“Tell them to give me their personal wish lists on equipment and training. I might as well use the mayor’s coming praise for the success as a way to push for a dollar-amount thank-you in the budget.”

Jim smiled. “Yes, sir.”

Luke took the smile in the way it was intended. He’d been co-opted to the politics of the job, but it no longer felt like a burden-it was a necessary part of the job. He was beginning to feel comfortable being the chief. Sending the SWAT guys in had been his weight knowing one might take a bullet, and dealing with the politics of the shooting was also his job. Maybe Amy would understand when he tried to explain it to her tonight. He thought she might. He figured she was right-it would take a forced retirement one day due to old age to get him to leave the job.

“Marsh, Connor, where are you?”

“Watching the doors, sir.”

“Don’t grouse at me, Marsh. I let you stay within a city block as promised. Join me back at the station. You’ve got a conversation to have with Kevin Sykes, and I intend to be on the other side of the interview glass when you do.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I thought that would make your day. You have a plan in mind?”

“Psych him out, sir. I know more information about what has been going down the last month than he does. A reporter will never be able to stand it.”

“Thank you. For a while there I wasn’t sure you were ready for this.”

“Born ready, sir. Born a cop.”

Luke smiled at the reply. “Let Connor drive while you write your notes. You go in as soon as Sykes comes through processing.”

Luke clicked off his radio. “Glad to have you back, Marsh,” he said softly. Luke turned to locate his evidence chief and put a plan in place to process this scene. Marsh might have taken a big loss, but he was going to survive it as a cop. That mattered. There were friends on the force to help him pick up the pieces and deal with Tracey’s being gone.

“Someone have a suggestion for who gets to write this scene up?”

Several officers near enough to hear the question groaned, but one bravely raised a hand. “Fields, sir. I’ll take coordinating it.”

“Good. The officers with you just became your deputies for the day.”

Fields smiled but nodded. “Thank you, sir. They’ll make my life miserable.”

“Command always does that. Jim, where are you?”

“The roof, sir. I think I just figured out how he focused in to plan that street shooting. I can see the restaurant through the scope.”

“I’m on my way to you.” He headed for the stairs and the roof. For the first time there was true relief that they had this contained.

God, there isn’t a word to express the relief. Two killers located and contained-it’s not much justice for Tracey or an end to the troubles Amy faces, but it is progress. What next, God? I’m too tired to think right now, much less pray with eloquence. Carry me. Carry Marsh and Marie and Amy dealing with a grief so deep I can’t find words to express in sympathy. The need just gets bigger to have You guiding our lives. It hurts so much, the losses that have to be accepted. There are some days I don’t know how to keep moving with any optimism for the future. This is one of those days .

Luke stepped onto the roof, where Jim was kneeling by the edge and studying the streets around them.

“The shooter could see the restaurant from here and watch the sisters come and go. And standing at the right spot, he could watch the Lincoln he had parked,” Jim noted. “You wonder if he really thought he could get back the money Richard Wise wanted, or if he just came to deal with the fact Amy could ID him as the one who killed Greg. Killing the sisters would bring Amy into the open-maybe that was his entire plan.”

“I doubt we’ll ever know.” Luke walked over to where Jim stood and studied the area. “At least the one man not currently in jail who has the most motive to want Amy dead is now removed from the equation.” Luke thought about the pieces still in play; he looked around the area one last time, then nodded to Jim. “The scene is yours; I’m heading back to the department to meet up with Sykes.”

“Yes, sir.”

THE INTERVIEW OF KEVIN SYKES had been going on for five hours now, still without the reporter requesting a lawyer. Luke watched through the glass as his officers worked, Marsh and Connor switching around the conversation with the ease of being able to read each other’s thoughts, putting Sykes on videotape walking back over himself on details only the killer would know without ever trying to get him to directly confess. That would come, Luke knew, but not before they had the man so twisting in the wind he couldn’t remember what lie he had told to cover another. They would get him talking about the knife he had used soon. If he wasn’t the police chief and if those weren’t two of his own officers, he would be trying to hire them in an instant.

“They’re good.”

He glanced over at his deputy chief. “I was just thinking the same thing.” Luke drank more of his coffee. “Do we have room to move them up another pay grade?”

“I don’t think either one would see a promotion to head of major cases as a move up, even with the increased rank. And Marsh is going to get dragged into administration when the time comes.”

“Elliot is ready for something bigger than head of homicide-I plan to move him up to criminal investigations as a whole at his next review. Maybe move both Marsh and Connor up to share head of homicide? Goodness knows the job needs two people to cover the hours. Marsh is going to grieve Tracey by pouring himself more into the job-we might as well use that reality and give him more territory to handle. It will be harder to think about a personal loss when he’s grousing at 6 a.m. update meetings and hand-holding rookies learning homicide. We’ll let Connor make sure Marsh doesn’t end up firing the entire lot of detectives under him.”