Not in the Cards Page 8
“He’ll be heading south for the freeway, Carducci. Let’s go!” Tires squealing down North Austin, Carducci slowed as he reached the intersection of North Austin and Conan Doyle. “What are you waiting for? A traffic light? Go!”
Looking left, then right, Tony turned left onto Conan Doyle as Delta called in the description of the car and the direction she guessed he was heading in. When another unit came on and said they had spotted a car matching the description speeding through an intersection, she flipped on the lights and siren.
“There’s a faster way, Carducci! When you come to Poe, go west and then south again to Shelley.” Looking at her new partner for the first time since she got back in the car, Delta noted the beads of sweat dotting his forehead. She wondered if it was the excitement, the adrenaline, the chase, or the fear, that brought this on and she wished she was driving.
When they came to Poe Street, again, Carducci slowed down, even though there were no cars approaching from either direction.
“Goddamn it, Carducci, move it, will you? We haven’t got all night! Once he gets to the freeway, it’s a different ballgame!”
Nodding quickly, Tony took a right turn.
“I said west! Turn this thing around and go west!” Delta covered her face with her hands and wanted to switch seats, but she knew it would take more time than they had. Already, they were losing valuable seconds.
“What’s the matter with you?” Delta shrieked above the blare of the siren. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“Yes, damn it, I heard! I’m a little nervous, that’s all.”
“That’s all? A woman has her head bashed in and you’re driving like a little old man because you’re nervous? Get over it Carducci and put the pedal to the floor!”
Suddenly, another unit came on the radio saying they had just picked up the chase heading toward the Crowsy Tunnel.
Delta picked up the mike. “If he goes through the tunnel, he’ll be heading for downtown. We’ll head him off at Sherwood.” Hanging up the mike, Delta told Tony to head north down Esperanza.
“We’re out of our beat, aren’t we?”
Delta nodded, eyeing the speedometer. She wished he could push it a little harder. At this rate, they were out of the race. “Yeah. Why?”
Tony shrugged. “No reason.”
When they approached Esperanza, Tony slowed down once more. Before Delta could stop him, he was flying south down Esperanza.
“What are you doing?” Delta screamed. “I said north! North is that way!” As Delta reached for the mike, a baritone voice boomed across the airwaves.
“S-10-12, this is Sergeant Rich. We just passed underneath you on Sherwood. We’ll assume your position in the pursuit. You can return to your beat.”
Snatching up the mike, Delta growled, “This is S-10-12, we copy.” Slamming it back in the holder, Delta felt every fiber in her body burn with anger.
“Pull over.”
Tony did as he was told and they switched seats without exchanging a word.
They rode in silence most of the way back, and when they returned to their beat, Delta made a follow-up check at the woman’s house. The ambulance door was just closing and the neighbors crowded along the street like vultures waiting for prey to die.
“Stay here,” she ordered, slamming the door after her.
Approaching Officer Firth, who was taking down witness statements, Delta inhaled slowly through her nose and tried to relax.
“You lose him?” Officer Firth asked, lowering his pad. Delta shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”
Firth looked over Delta’s shoulder and grinned. “A rookie with bran for brains?”
Delta shrugged again. The heat of embarrassment rising to her cheeks. “Something like that. How are things here?”
Firth shook his head sadly. “If her head had been a baseball, he’d have hit a homerun.”
“It was a bat?”
“Apparently so. Took it with him, which is good. If the guys stop him, he’s history. He won’t see daylight for years.”
“How is she?”
Firth glanced over at the ambulance. “She’ll be okay. A few stitches here and there ought to help. She’s a pretty tough lady.”
“I suppose she’d have to be after being his punching bag for years.”
“Yeah. It’s a shame they let guys like that off the hook so easily. Shoulda kept the bastard locked up for good.” Delta nodded.
“We’re square here, Stevens, if you want to take off. She’ll be okay.”
Okay? The word rang through her head like a cracked bell. No abused woman would ever truly be ‘okay’. Why was that so hard for some men to understand? Just because her head would heal didn’t mean her spirit wouldn’t feel that blow for the rest of her life.
Okay? How could someone be okay after being beaten by someone who vowed to honor, to protect, and to cherish her?
Shaking her head sadly, Delta looked up from her thoughts and glared through the window at Tony, who stared straight ahead.
Maybe that’s why she was so hard on him for blowing the chase; crimes against women moved Delta. She wanted to be the one to pull that bastard out of the car and read him his rights. She wanted him to know what it felt like to be powerless against a woman. Quite simply, she wanted to be the one to see him go back to jail for a long, long time.
Jerking open the door, Delta dropped angrily into the driver’s seat. “Any word?”
Tony looked out the window. “They lost him,” he said weakly.
“Shit!” Slamming her fists on the steering wheel, Delta shook her head. “We were that close. That close, damn it!”
Turning from the window, Tony stared down at his hands. “It was my fault. I’m sorry.”
The rage bursting inside her, Delta turned on him. “What in the hell were you thinking about? Don’t you know north from south or east from west?”
Even with all of the noise outside the vehicle, the inside of their car was sullenly quiet.
“Well? What happened?”
Tony slowly glanced up and allowed only the briefest contact with Delta’s eyes before returning his gaze to his hands. “I don’t.”
Delta leaned forward to hear him better. “You don’t what?”
“I don’t have a sense of direction. Sometimes, when I’m nervous, I forget.”
“You forget?” Delta didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You forget what?”
“Which is which.”
Leaning back in her seat, Delta shook her head. “Oh, that’s just great. How in the hell did you ever get through the academy?”
“I told you. It only happens when I get really nervous. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, tell that to the lady in the ambulance. Damn it, Carducci, are there any other quirks in your character that I should know about? Any skeletons in your closet that could get us killed? Do I need to go through your file to see if there’s anything in there you haven’t told me?”
Tony shook his head. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
Tony nodded. “Positive.” Looking back up at Delta, Tony’s eyes revealed his defeat. “You’re not going to tell the captain about this, are you?”
Delta could only stare at him while the anger slowly burned itself out. A partner who didn’t know directions or couldn’t get his bearings was like a blind guide dog—no use to anyone and more of a detriment than the handicap itself.
“Is it something you can work on, or are you cursed with being a directional dunce forever?” Delta’s voice was cold and biting. “Be honest with me, Carducci. Our safety’s at stake here.”
Tony shrugged and moved his eyes away from her penetrating stare. “I’m willing to work on it, but I don’t know if I can fix it.”
Delta leaned forward, her eyebrows capping a pair of intense green eyes. “That’s not what I asked you.”
Looking back out the window, Tony sighed loudly. “I don’t know. I’d have to work on it during really stressful si
tuations. Believe me, I’ve practiced and studied and even seen the academy shrink.”
“And?”
“And it comes and goes.”
Delta eased back. “That’s what they’re going to be saying about you if we can’t straighten you out.”
Tony nodded. “I know.” Turning to her, his eyes were pleading. “This is your big chance to dump me, Delta. If you tell the captain, it’ll be desk duty for me.”
Delta stared into his eyes and thought about Tony’s words. The right thing for her to do was to tell the captain that he was a deficit on the street. After all, Carducci’s “problem” was responsible for losing an attempted murder suspect, and without directional capabilities, he was a hazard to both of them. Maybe if she dumped him now, she could get a partner she could actually work with. Maybe if she unloaded his arrogant self on the captain’s doorstep, she’d get a rookie she might even like.
Maybe.
Closing her eyes and inhaling slowly, Delta could see Miles’s face. She remembered him telling her once that, “good, bad, or indifferent, your partner is like your spouse. He’ll make a lot of mistakes, he’ll fuck up at bizarre moments, and he’ll piss you off like no one else can, but as long as those things stay between the two of you, they’ll get resolved and you’ll both be better for it. The last thing you ever do is snitch on your partner.”
As usual, the best thing had nothing to do with the right thing. Leaning back over, Delta softened her tone of voice. “Let me tell you something, Carducci. When I first started working with Miles—”
“That was your partner who was killed, huh?”
Delta nodded. “Yes.” For a moment, memories overwhelmed her. Suddenly, she could smell Miles’s new cologne and feel his presence next to her. It happened less frequently than it used to, but at times like this, it was as if his spirit somehow swept through her and touched her soul just to remind her that he would always be there.
“Delta?”
Shaking the memories back to the trunk of her mind, Delta sighed heavily. “I made my fair share of mistakes, Carducci. Hell, I came out of the academy like the Tasmanian Devil whirling around, knocking stuff over left and right, going through everything instead of around it.” Delta grinned. “Sometimes, I still do. But through it all, not once did Miles reprove me to our superiors. You know why? Here’s lesson number three, Carducci. Miles believed that good cops aren’t born, they’re made. My job right now is to help make you into one. That’s what Miles did for me; and it’s what I’m going to try and do for you. As long as you continue to learn and grow, then we’ll work through your malfunctions, no matter how quirky they may be. You’re my partner, whether I like it or not, and I have my own codes to live by here on the street. One of those is that you never rat on your partner. If you put my life in danger, that’s a different story. But for now, we’re stuck with each other.”
For the first time in an hour, Tony allowed himself the slightest grin. “Thanks, Delta. You won’t regret it. I swear you won’t.”
Starting the engine, Delta drove into the night. “I’d better not. Because if I do, my little Hispanic friend at the computer will kick your balls up into your neck.”
Tony nodded. “I’ll just bet she could.”
Delta turned and smiled. “Could and would.”
“Then I’ll do my best to keep that from happening.”
“You do that, Carducci. You just do that.”
“S-10-12, we have a request for a 9-1-0 at 45 Alcott Way. See the woman.”
Delta picked up the mike and responded affirmatively. “What’s a 9-1-0?” she asked Tony as she slipped the mike back in the cradle.
“You don’t know?”
Delta sighed. “Of course I know, you dolt. I want to see if you know.”
Tony’s forehead furrowed in thought. “Someone requesting assistance?”
“That’s a 4-1-0. Try again.”
“Oh.” Drumming his fingers on the dash, Tony chewed his bottom lip. “A trespasser?”
“Six-zero-three. Carducci, didn’t you learn anything in the academy?”
Shrugging, Tony surrendered. “I give up.”
Delta shook her head. “Are you sure it was the Police Academy you went to? A 9-1-0 is someone asking us to check on the well-being of someone else. You know, an elderly neighbor no one has seen in days or something like that.”
“Oh, yeah. Now I remember.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Delta sighed loudly. How had he passed the academy? “We’ll take this left and then a right at the first stop sign. The house is the second from the corner.”
Tony looked amazed. “You know that by heart?”
Delta nodded. “After more than half a dozen years, I hope so. I know every inch of this beat as well as those on either side. Believe me, it pays to know.”
In two minutes, they arrived at the address where an older woman stood waiting in the driveway. The small black woman dressed in a robe and slippers walked to the edge of the sidewalk when they drove up.
“I’m Officer Stevens,” Delta said, getting out of the car. “Are you the woman who called?”
Pushing her glasses back up her nose, the old woman nodded. “Mr. Richardson, my neighbor, reads his papers every morning, just like clockwork. He also puts his garbage out every Wednesday night right after the ten o’clock news.”
Delta nodded and motioned for her to continue.
“But his newspapers have been stacking up and when he didn’t bring his trash out tonight, I got worried. It’s not like him to be so unpredictable.”
Delta pulled her pad out and jotted this down.
“Maybe he’s on vacation,” Tony offered.
The woman made a disgusted noise with her dentures. “For fourteen years, young man, Dudley always told me when he would be away and I’d water his lawn. Fourteen years. I hardly think he went away this time without telling me. No...I think something has happened to him.”
Flipping her pad closed, Delta glanced over at Dudley Richardson’s house. “We’ll be glad to take a look, ma’am.”
“Should I wait out here?”
Delta turned back to her and smiled. “Go ahead and go back inside. One of us will come over when we’re finished with our investigation.”
“Investigation? Oh my.” With that, the old lady tightened her robe and scurried back into her house.
Delta walked toward the house and pulled her six-cell flashlight from the holder. When she realized Tony was lagging behind, she turned and peered through the darkness. “Well? What are you waiting for? An invitation?”
Delta shined her flashlight through the garage door window. Other than a washer and aging dryer, the garage was empty. Moving toward the back of the house, Delta directed the beam of light through the sliding glass doors and saw a kitchen and small den. Nothing appeared disturbed. For a moment, she cocked her head to see the amount of dust coating the furniture.
“What?” Tony whispered.
“Dust. Dust will tell you a lot about a crime scene.”
“What crime? He’s probably on vacation.”
Delta straightened up, opened her mouth to respond, and then thought better of it. He’d learn soon enough.
Moving over to the smaller kitchen window, Delta saw that it was cracked open about an inch. Looking through the glass, she didn’t see anything but a sink full of dirty dishes. Then, she put her face up to the small opening and sniffed. The stench invaded her nostrils, pushing her violently away from the window.
She knew that smell.
The stench, the odor, of death and decay.
“What? What is it?”
Delta pointed to the crack in the window. “Put your nose in there.”
Tony did and immediately reeled backwards. “Holy shit!”
“That’s death, Carducci. Nothing in the world smells like it.”
“You mean—”
“Dudley Richardson, or someone else in there is dead. Check the other windows while I
call it in.”
Thirty-five minutes later, an unmarked homicide vehicle pulled up and out of the passenger side came a Danny DeVito clone.
“I jumped right to it when I heard your call, Stevie.” Detective Russ Leonard reached up and patted Delta on the back. He had an annoying habit of invading her personal space. Connie thought it was because he had a crush. Delta knew it was because he lacked social skills. Judging by his nefarious reputation, Delta believed her view of him was more correct.
“So, you think you gotta stiff?”
Delta nodded.
“We’ll see soon enough, won’t we?” Leonard issued orders to his men before turning back to Delta. “I’m surprised to find you back on the streets so soon. I thought for sure you’d be sitting pretty behind a desk for awhile.”
Delta shrugged. “They needed FTO’s.”
Leonard laughed. “Like hell they did. It’s more like you got friends in high places.”
Delta resisted the urge to slap the back of his head. Detective Leonard could get under her skin faster than anyone she knew.
“I’m glad you’re back, Stevie. We don’t have as many stiffs when you’re not around.”
“Very funny.”
“It’s true. I don’t know why it is, but people seem to die around you.” Then, to Carducci, “Better watch yourself, kid. There’s a black cloud hanging over this one.”
Tony leaned all the way over to whisper to Leonard. “I’ll take my chances.”
When Leonard’s men got the front door opened, the stench of death rushed out like warm poltergeists.
“Yep. Stevie, you gotta dead one.” Pulling a small blue container of Vicks Vaporub from his pocket, Leonard dabbed some under his nose and handed the plastic jar to Delta, who followed suit.
“There,” Leonard said, inhaling deeply. “That’s more like it. Never leave home without it, Junior,” he said to Tony. “Know what I mean?”
Delta gave Tony a look that said not to even bother with a response. Detective Leonard was just a stump of a man—all thick torso with short appendages and no neck. He resembled a cartoon, especially when he pulled one of his unlit cigars from his pocket and clamped down on it.
Delta thought he watched too much TV as a kid.