The two men stood where they were, but Robert saw their fear. He wasn’t sure if it was of him or whoever was in the car.
A tap on the window broke the silence, and one of the men gave an audible sigh as he stepped aside and opened the door.
“Get in,” a female voice called from the inside.
Robert bent down and looked in. “Me?” he asked.
“Yes, we need to talk.”
Robert let his curiosity overcome trepidation, and he climbed in and sat down. The woman sat on the other side of the bench seat. She wasn’t young, pushing mid-seventies or so, he judged.
“Detective, my granddaughter is engaged to a young man. Now, you know all boys have to sow their wild oats before they settle down.” She waved a thin bony hand in a dismissive gesture.
Robert listened to this stylish grandmother and wondered if she were behind the murder of the Stevens family.
“It’s come to my attention that he might have sown more oats than he should.” She took a flask from the tiny bar built into the back of the front seat. “Would you like a drink?”
Robert shook his head and motioned for her to continue. “As you’re well aware, the situation has been taken care of.” She took a sip of her drink and looked at him. “I know you have to do your job. I’ve been told you have a chip on your shoulder because you lost your family in a shootout. I’m very sorry about that. It was a different issue and none of your concern.”
“None of my concern?” He bolted straight up. “Not only my wife and child were killed, but also my partner and a few other men in my department.” Now he turned to face her. She had no fear of him, just sipped her cocktail and watched him. “You seem to take your daughter’s boyfriend’s predicament very seriously.”
She nodded.
“I take the death of police officers and my family just as seriously. I also take the commission of a crime seriously. Because I do, people like you can feel safe, but not if people like you make killing something you can get away with.”
“So, you did find something that might bring the killer to light.”
“I have some possibilities. You’ve just narrowed the selection.”
She put her empty glass on the foldout table and reached for her purse. Robert froze. Then his hand moved along his leg toward his back. The minute I see a gun, she’s dead, he thought.
She brought out her pocketbook. Fumbling a moment, Robert realized the woman was an alcoholic and had probably had too many drinks. She handled it well, but the slight shake of her hands and the enlarged tips of her fingers gave it away.
“Here, I want you to have this.” She handed him a giant stack of money, about two inches worth. Robert didn’t move. This was more money than he’d ever seen being offered to him. In a continuous movement, he opened the door and stepped out of the car.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to decline.”
“It’s your call. George, give him your card. Call, if you change your mind.”
The man who’d first approached him thrust a card at Robert before sliding past him into the car. The others took their places, and the car moved down the street and turned on to 39th Avenue.
He looked at the card. He still had no idea who the woman was. He’d have to ask Barbara to help him. He just hoped he wasn’t going to have his house ransacked again.
Epilogue
Robert looked around his office. His chair was a nice, vinyl one with padded arms. His desk had a blotter on the woodgrain top. A padded chair for guests and a tall, filing cabinet completed the set. Next to the door a coat rack sported his favorite hat and coat, a standard, government black, knee length with ample room to hide a bazooka under it, if the need arose.
Robert grinned, despite himself. On the desk was a picture of Barbara next to a picture of the two of them at their wedding with Jake and Lorene. He couldn’t wipe the grin from his face; they were expecting, again. Their first child was a little girl with blonde, curly hair and big, blue eyes. He was hoping this one would be a boy, but he would love their child, whatever the gender.
The phone rang. “Robert Collins, FBI.” He loved saying that.
“Yes, you are.” Jake’s voice crossed the country from Portland, Oregon, to Washington, DC.
“How are you, Chief?” Robert teased. Jake had been promoted to Arnie’s position when Arnie retired. Robert had been approached, but he had already accepted the DC job, so he suggested Jake. He wasn’t afraid to hold a few things in reserve, to get what he wanted. Upper management came through and offered the job to Jake.
Jake had systematically gone through the department and cleaned it up. He retired some old officers, recruited new officers, and upgraded others. The Portland police was beginning to be a respected department, not the laughingstock of the city.
“Fine as frog hairs. You?”
“Same; just dealing with morning sickness.” Robert heard a loud guffaw on the other end of the line.
“Well, buddy, I have to tell you that I am in the same boat.”
“Lorene is pregnant?”
“Yup. Two months now, and I am already tired. Elizabeth is excited about the baby, but she’s hiding her toys, so she won’t have to share.”
The two men laughed.
“Anything on the Stevens case?” Robert always asked. It was the one case he just couldn’t forget.
“No. The ‘boys,’ as we called them, are fine, upstanding respected citizens of the community. Royal got married to a beautiful girl with as much money and clout as he has. The union joined two very prominent families. The other boys are either in school or working.”
“How about Calvin and James?”
“James married soon after you left and headed to Europe. Calvin married and moved to a more sunny climate far away.”
“Yep, fine upstanding members of the community with dirty little secrets,” Robert’s voice bit at each word.
“If Judge Kaeding ever retires, and we have a cleaner judicial system here, it might be worth it to trot out the evidence. The only problem is people will ask why we sat on it this long.” There was a shrill ringing heard from Jake’s end. “Hey, I have to go. Talk to you later.”
“Go get ’em, Chief,” Robert spoke into the receiver after the buzz signaled that they were disconnected.
Thank You
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About the Author
I live and work in the Pacific Northwest. I’m married and take care of a challenged rescue dog, Ariel. I love writing, but don’t write in one particular genre. I do gravitate more to mysteries as I’m always asking “What if?”
Copyright
Copyright © 2019 C.M. Weaver
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, with the exception of brief quotations used in reviews and articles.