Faye Kellerman - Street Dreams

“Fine… anything. Great. Terrific-”

I hung up before he could think of more adjectives.

After forty-five minutes, the phone rang again.

“Are you still working?”

“Yeah, just like you’ve been doing for the last four days.”

Silence.

I felt bad, not because he didn’t deserve it, but because it was unbecoming to be rude. I tossed him a bone. “If you come to Boss’s within the next half hour, I’ll still be here. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll see you later.” I disconnected the call.

He showed up twenty minutes later. The first things I noticed were his eyes. How could I not notice? Usually luminous, his pupils were polluted brown muck, the formerly white irises were a combination of jaundice yellow and bright red bloodshot. He liked colors. He certainly had them.

I immediately thought of a drug binge. It wouldn’t be the first time that a health professional had dipped into the locked cabinet of a hospital. He smiled sheepishly as he sat across from me. I slid my coffee cup over to him and watched him closely. When he picked up the mug, I saw that his hands were as steady as rocks.

“I was supposed to meet someone,” I told him. “I think I got stood up.” I smiled. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

His tired eyes took in mine. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you.”

“S’right. You’ve been busy.”

“Who were you supposed to meet?”

“A felon.”

“I hope I’m better company, even if the margin is small.”

Despite myself, I smiled. “You look exhausted.”

“I am. I finally told them that if I didn’t get some time off, I would collapse.”

“You should be home sleeping, not drinking bad coffee that’ll probably give you heartburn.”

“Yes.” He tried eye contact but couldn’t pull it off. “I’d like to make up my bad behavior to you. Can we see each other this weekend?”

“What bad behavior? All you did was work.” I paused, thinking of Nurse Marnie’s possessive voice over the line. Once there had been something. “Unless you have something else to tell me.”

He looked up. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Busy with someone else?” I was trying to sound casual. “What happened, Koby? Did she flake out on you or something? Call me for backup sex?”

His eyes swung back to mine. “No. It is nothing like that. I really have been working-three 12-hour shifts and one 16-hour shift.”

I was silent.

“Ask anyone at the hospital,” he insisted. “And you can ask many people because I’ve practically lived there this past week.” He rubbed his bloodshot eyes. They watered with irritation. “Cindy, I have cash burning holes in my pockets. Please let me spend it on you.”

I studied his face.

“Please?”

I shrugged. “Sure. Let’s go out Sunday night.”

He blew out air and leaned back in the booth. “Thank you. I will try to redeem myself.”

“I’m tired. I’m going home.” I stood up, pitched a ten on the table, then walked away.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

“I’m fine, Koby. I carry a gun.”

“I suppose I should keep that in mind.” He caught up with me, held my arm. “I really missed you.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

He held the door open for me. “I know.”

“So what was that all about?”

“Some other time, please? I’m so tired.”

I took pity on him. “Sure.”

As we walked out the door and onto the sidewalk, I saw the tiger tattoo before I saw the face. I broke away from Koby and took a couple of giant steps forward. “Hey!” I shouted. “Police!”

Germando took off.

I tore after him, grateful for my rubber-soled shoes, but I was out of my league. Koby however was a lightning bolt. A dozen long strides and he landed within striking distance. He whacked Germando between the shoulder blades and my traffic felon stumbled forward, falling flat onto his face. When I caught up, I was panting like a dog. Koby hadn’t broken a sweat. I leaned my knee between Germando’s shoulder blades and whipped his arms around his back.

“I said, ‘Police!’ That means you stop! ”

“I no hear-”

“Well, now you hear! I am a police officer, Germando. Hold the fuck still or I’ll break your fucking arms!”

“That’s brutality!” He craned his neck to look at Koby. With my knee in position, he was pretty well pinned. “You hear her-”

“You’re talking to air, my friend,” I yelled at him. “There’s no one here!” I retrieved the gun from my purse and held it at the base of his head. “Hold still, Germando. I’ve got bullets about an inch from your brain stem and I don’t want any accidents. I am going to cuff you.”

Out came the cuffs from my purse. As soon as he was in manacles, I felt my heart rate drop. I looked up… Koby staring at me, shocked and wide-eyed. I took out my cell and called for police backup and a transport.

His mouth was still agape. I said, “You can go now. In fact, it would be real good if you went now.”

He closed his mouth and turned to walk away.

“Hey,” I shouted.

He pivoted around.

“Thanks,” I told him. “But don’t ever do my job for me again, okay?”

He didn’t answer. He stared, blinked, then jogged off. I saw his Toyota hook a U, just as I caught the flash of a cruiser’s crossbar.

Good thing the occupants of the black-and-white were on a case. Otherwise a cop could have given him a ticket for crossing a double, double yellow line.

Let’s go overit again, Decker.”

I threw my head back, squirming in the hard seat, and studied the ceiling’s fluorescent lighting in the interview room. This wasn’t so bad, I rationalized. It gave me empathy with the scumbags that I’d be grilling one day. “What specifically, Detective?”

“You went to Boss’s because…”

“I went to Boss’s because I was looking for Germando El Paso, who often eats the banana pancakes there. I was looking for him because he had outstanding warrants.”

“Traffic warrants.”

“Warrants just the same.”

Brill rubbed his forehead. “And this is what you do on your off-hours? Hunt for dudes with unpaid tickets?”

“I consider it a civic duty.”

His smile was wry. “You need a life.”

“I agree,” I answered. “But that doesn’t change this situation. It was a righteous bust and I did not plant that bag of X on him, no matter what he says.”

“You’ve got no witnesses to back you up.”

“Neither does he.”

“He claims you were with someone.”

“He claims a lot of things.” I looked at the one-way mirror. “Who’s back there?”

Brill followed the direction of my eyes. He wore a black suit and a white shirt. A badly knotted red tie ringed his neck. He had dressed hurriedly. “Someone from the DA… the Loo.”

“Detective or uniform?”

“My Loo.”

“He can come in and ask his own questions, if he wants.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass.”

“Believe me, Detective, I’m not trying to be snide.” I looked at my watch. It was two in the morning. At least, Koby was home sleeping. Thinking about him depressed me. “I’ll start from the beginning-again. I’ll repeat it as many times as you want me to repeat it.”

Brill gave me a hands-up.

I started to talk, then stopped. “Let me start from the very beginning. This whole thing has its roots in the abandoned baby I pulled out of the garbage a couple of weeks ago. All right?”

“Go on.”

I glanced at the tape recorder in the middle of the Formica table, which was scarred and scratched and held a dirty ashtray. “I found the mother on my own, I’d like to add-”