Brian Freeman - The Voice Inside

“I hope so,” Frost said.

“None of this changes the fact that Jess did a stupid, inexcusable thing by planting evidence.”

“I know.”

“You were right to bring the watch to me and the district attorney. Don’t ever doubt that, Easton.”

Frost said nothing. He’d been doubting himself all night. “Where do we stand on Cutter, sir?”

“Right now? Nowhere.”

“He did it,” Frost said.

Hayden’s face clouded over. “Of course he did it! You think I don’t know that? If it were up to me, I’d beat that prick to death with my own fists. Any cop in this building would do the same. He’s throwing it in our faces like there’s nothing we can do, and he’s going to pay.”

Frost waited for the outburst to pass, and then he dealt with the reality in front of them. “But we don’t have a case, right?”

Hayden rocked back in his chair, which squealed in submission. “Not yet we don’t, no.”

“Do we know where he is?”

“No, he’s still off the radar. His brother called me. Phil Cutter. Very helpful piece of crap. He said he’d heard about the murder. He thought we might leap to the wrong conclusion, so he wanted me to know that Rudy had been with him all night after midnight.”

“He’s a liar,” Frost said.

“Yes, but the trouble is, we can’t prove he’s lying without some physical evidence to put Rudy Cutter in Jess’s apartment or anywhere near the crime scene. Which, right now, we don’t have. The forensic people are still over there, but they don’t sound happy. Cutter is pretty careful about not leaving any DNA or fingerprints that we can hang on him.”

“He knows what he’s doing,” Frost said. “It was the same with all of the other murders. What about the old man on Stockton? Jimmy Keyes?”

“The Taser used on Jess belonged to Keyes. The ID tags match. But we’re no closer to getting Cutter for the Keyes murder, either.”

“So what do we do?” Frost asked.

Hayden didn’t answer immediately. He took the photo of Jess from his desk and held it in his big hands. His eyes didn’t mist, but they became empty, as if the weight of her death were too much to bear. Behind his anger, behind his ego, was a crushing loss. And he wasn’t about to share that loss with Frost.

“ You don’t do anything, Inspector Easton,” Hayden told him.

“With respect, sir, I can’t live with that answer.”

He expected the captain to lose his temper and fire back, but Hayden actually smiled at him. “No bullshit. I appreciate that. I know Jess always liked you, Easton. She liked you enough that it pissed some people off around here. A pretty long list of people, in fact.”

Frost suspected that the list included Hayden himself.

“I liked Jess, too,” Frost said. “And whatever you or anyone else may think, she never cut me any slack.”

“Oh, I know that. If she did, I would have been on her like a ton of bricks. You’re good. No one says you’re not.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I also know about the rumors,” Hayden said.

Frost said nothing. He wasn’t going to try to explain his relationship with Jess, because he didn’t know if he could explain it to himself. He simply waited to see what would happen next. Hayden’s eyes were like coal on the other side of the desk, and his breathing was loud through his wide nose. Then the captain waved his hand, as if whatever had happened between Frost and Jess meant nothing at all.

“Mind you, I’m not asking whether the rumors are true. I don’t care. It’s not like I can complain about anything Jess chose to do, before or after our divorce. I was no saint. We both brought plenty of baggage to the breakup.”

“I’m not sure why we’re talking about this, sir,” Frost said.

“We’re talking about this because we both have the same goal. We want Rudy Cutter back in prison. And I’m aware that you have just as much motivation as me to make that happen.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then let the rest of us do our jobs. Jess already went rogue on this case. The result was that Cutter went free, and Jess paid for it with her life. I’m not going to let you screw up our next shot at putting him away.”

“I have no intention of doing that,” Frost said.

“No? You don’t think I have spies, Easton? I know exactly what you’ve been doing on your vacation . You’ve been dredging up old witnesses. Talking to family members of the victims. Asking questions. I hear you’ve been working with a writer who’s doing a book about the case, too. Am I right?”

Frost made no attempt to deny it. “Yes, you’re right.”

Hayden exhaled, making a whistling noise through a little gap in his front teeth. “We are already on thin ice with Judge Elgin. He threw out the entire investigation, Easton. Five years of work. If he smells so much as a hint of impropriety again, he’ll toss the case entirely, and we’ll never get our hands on Cutter. None of us want that to happen.”

“No,” Frost said. “We don’t.”

“Good. Now here’s what I want you to do. Go home. Grieve for Jess. Grieve for your sister. Take another week of vacation, and make it a real vacation this time, got it? Fly to a beach somewhere, or go hiking in the mountains, or just sit at home and clear your head. But whatever you do, stay the hell out of this case . Have I made myself absolutely clear?”

“You have,” Frost said.

“That’ll be all, Easton.”

“Yes, sir.”

He got out of the chair and headed for the door, but Hayden called after him in a voice not much louder than a sigh. “Frost.”

He turned around in surprise. The captain stood up and came around to the other side of the desk again. “I assume that once upon a time, Jess gave you her little speech about the line,” Hayden said.

“Several times.”

There was a silence between them. Frost expected something more, but Hayden simply whispered, “Good, good.”

That was it. The meeting was over.

Frost didn’t know what had just happened. He was in the elevator, leaving the building before he understood. The line. It was the line you had to cross as a cop sometimes, even if you got fired for doing the right thing, even if no one could protect you.

Hayden had given Frost a direct order to drop the investigation against Rudy Cutter. Then he’d added a postscript off the record.

Keep going.

The sun pushed above the East Bay hills, casting a golden glow on the water and making silhouettes of the Bay Bridge towers. Rudy stood with a takeaway cup of black coffee in his hand, steps from the Ferry Building, as he watched the dawn. He was freshly shaved and showered; the shower basin was bleached. His underwear, shirt, and jeans were clean and new. Half a mile away, at the bottom of a street corner trash bin, he’d deposited a tightly sealed plastic bag with last night’s bloody clothes.

Now we’re even, Jess.

Dealing with her had slowed him down. He’d wanted to cross her off his list on the first night he was free, but she’d been waiting for him, and that had forced him to develop a different plan. He felt satisfaction that the attack had gone as he anticipated, but he also felt oddly empty about the experience. He’d expected adrenaline. He’d expected the high of being back in the game. Instead, the violence itself had done nothing for him. Watching her realize that he’d won, watching the light go out of her eyes, had been a hollow victory.

Maria Lopes would be different.

Hope would be with him for Maria Lopes, as she had been for the others. Screaming for him to stop.

Rudy sipped his coffee. He’d bought it at the same coffee shop in the Ferry Building where he’d met Nina Flores. He hadn’t been back there since that first time. He’d been idly curious if anyone would recognize him, but no one did. He’d ordered, got his coffee, and left. There had been no life-changing, heart-stopping moment as there had been with Nina.