Enemy in Blue Page 5

  “Then why don't you report anything?” Sandra asked.

  “Shit—who are you to judge?” Sandra could feel Max pull back. “Believe me that in retrospect I wish I had done something. It's been eating me alive. I feel like a goddamn accomplice. But, it's hard when even his fellow officers weren't doing anything. That made it feel… well… kind of normal.”

  Sandra sat listening to Max. Judging him wasn't going to help create trust. Plus, she could kind of understand where he was coming from. Society had developed this sentiment that someone else would take care of its problems.

  “A part of me…a part of me was just a damn coward too. Sergeant Shaver is scary as hell. I was able to hide behind my camera. Voyeurs have no obligation to act. At least that's what I thought. This time is different though.”

  “How so?” Sandra asked.

  “He killed someone. This wasn't an extra twist when putting cuffs on. He killed that old man for no reason.”

  “How do you want me to help?”

  “I want you to take the damn drive and do a report on it,” Max said.

  “Reporter to semi-reporter for a minute, okay?” Sandra asked. Max ashed his cigarette onto the floor and nodded. “You're giving me this story for free?”

  Max chuckled. “Crazy, huh?” He shook his head and groaned. “Don't think I'm long for this world anymore, Sandra.

  “You think Sergeant Shaver is already after you?”

  “Hell yes! I can't believe he hasn't shown up yet. I keep waiting for a knock and him to be behind that door.”

  “But, he couldn't do anything to you at this point. It would be so obvious,” Sandra said, trying her best to reassure Max.

  “Sandra, you still don't get it. He doesn't give a shit. He thinks he's invincible.”

  “I just can't believe he would come here and hurt you after all this.”

  “Believe it, because he would. This is enough talk though.”

  “But wait,” Sandra interrupted, “I need to know your account of what happened.”

  Max had turned to his computer. Without turning around he said, “We don't have time for that. You're just going to have to watch the recording.” Max reached down and pulled a drive out of what appeared to be one of the USB ports on his computer. All of a sudden he froze and sat stiff in his chair. He turned to Sandra.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “What? I think you're being paranoid...” But before she could finish her sentence a shadow passed in front of the window next to the front door. Her heart fell into her stomach.

  “No fucking way,” Max seethed through his teeth. “He can't be here now.” Max spun around once, apparently trying to figure out what to do. He grabbed Sandra's elbow and pulled her to a back room. “Get in here,” he said as he pushed her into a closet. “Stay quiet and take this,” he said as he handed her the drive. Sandra knelt down in the back corner of the closet. She was partially hidden by hanging clothes. Someone knocked on the front door.

  “Who…who is it?” Max asked.

  Sandra heard a lowered voice pierce the front door. “Max, you know who it is.”

  T W E L V E

  __________________________________________________

  Martinez stood next to Williams' wife. The hum of the florescent lights in the station were the only thing breaking the utter silence. Martinez looked over at her. She was focused on the worn linoleum floor, her hair disheveled, eyes red and moist.

  “Alicia,” Martinez started, “I got to tell you something.”

  Without looking up, she said, “What's that, Jo-Jo?” Martinez smiled when she said that. She had called him that since he could remember.

  “I made your husband a promise—a promise that's gonna be dangerous to keep.”

  “What did you promise?” she asked while taking a second to look at him.

  “Can't tell you, Alicia. You're already in danger and more information would just make it worse.”

  “So why the hell bring it up then?”

  “Well, I need you to know that this isn't going to get better. You should consider leaving for a bit.”

  “Leaving?” Alicia asked incredulously. “We have…I...I have a house and a job here. Don't make me say 'I' anymore Jo-Jo! I'm not going anywhere. You do what you need to do, but I'm not going anywhere.”

  Martinez started to respond but was distracted by a bald-headed man poking his head out of a doorway. It was the Chief.

  “I'm ready for you two,” he said.

  Martinez waited as Alicia gathered her purse and jacket. He had known Alicia for over twenty years. They went to the same elementary school and then they both met Williams in high school. Despite being the same age, Alicia was always more like a big sister to Martinez than just a peer. She was an accomplished psychologist—a perfect complement to Williams' fiery and brash personality. This situation was unique to Martinez because Alicia was always their rock, but now it was his turn.

  He grabbed Alicia's arm as she started to walk to the Chief's office. “Alicia, I want you to realize this fool ain't our friend. He's a snake—so watch what you say.”

  Martinez didn't actually know much about the Chief apart from the stories. Extortion, hits, political corruption to stay in power. Possibly—but it was never as concrete as the other rumors. Some said he was high up in some white supremacy organization. It was a rumor as fleeting as a distant dog bark, but some people said he was a Lone Wolf.

  “All right Jo-Jo. But you know I'm going to give him a piece of my mind.”

  “Just be careful.” They reached the Chief's door and stepped inside.

  “Welcome, welcome Ms. Williams. Sit down, please,” the Chief said gesturing to a faded, brown chair. “Martinez, take a seat,” he said a bit more sternly.

  The Chief sat back in his chair and lit a pipe. He drew a few times and let the thick smoke roll out of his mouth.

  Directing his gaze at Alicia he said, “Now, Ms. Williams, I'm sure you've questions for me. I do of you as well. Why don't you go first and we'll see where we get.”

  “Okay, I want to know what you are going to do about that racist Tomko. You see, he came to our house to do me harm.”

  The Chief raised his hand to stop Alicia and smiled politely. “Why would you say all that, Ms. Williams? Why call Officer Tomko a racist? That's a bad foot to start out on.” He smiled but his eyes didn't crinkle, and he puffed on his pipe again.

  “Because the bigot messed with Alvin so many times before. And Jo… Officer Martinez too.”

  “So this happened before and no one reported it?” the Chief asked, mock incredulity rolling off his tongue like the pipe smoke.

  “No sir. My husband has not been shot and killed before while trying to protect me,” she answered sarcastically.

  The Chief took his pipe out of his mouth and leaned across the desk. He was imposing, not necessarily physically, but certainly imposing.

  “Ms. Williams, I understand your grief. However, you will respect me and this department or you will get the fuck out. Understood?” Both Alicia and Martinez recoiled at the Chief's sudden change in tone. Martinez grabbed Alicia's wrist in an attempt to calm and reassure her.

  She bit her quivering lip. “Fine,” Alicia started, “this was not the first altercation between the two.”

  “Thank you. Was their supervisor aware of the altercations between your husband and Officer Tomko?”

  Alicia laughed. “Sergeant Shaver? Aren't you in charge here? He's notoriously inept and a bigot.” The Chief's face turned red.

  “And from what I understand your husband was notoriously hot-headed and antagonistic. In fact, we have reason to believe that your husband was responsible for the bloodshed at your house.”

  This time Alicia leaned forward. She thrust a finger in the Chief's face. Martinez tried to shoot her a look but it was too late. “You look here Chief. Those two pigs were in my house pointing their guns at my head and asking for some goddamn drive.”

  The Chief's
eyes glittered. “A drive?”

  Martinez took a deep breath and lowered his head.

  * * * *

  Sandra heard Max arguing with Shaver. “You can't come in here…show me a warrant…no goddammit get out!” Sandra heard a grunt and a thump. “You asshole!” Max screamed.

  “Maxie, your apartment looks like shit,” the Sergeant paused, “but something sure does smell sweet.” Shaver's comment made Sandra tense and pull back even further into the corner of the closet. She noticed her thighs were shaking uncontrollably. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. The front door slammed shut.

  “You know why I'm here. Cough it up.”

  “Wow, are you idiots for real? Tomko already asked for the same thing.”

  Shaver lowered his voice, “Look here you little Jew. Sit the fuck down.”

  “I don't want to.” Sandra heard a thud and then Max yelled, “Fuck you Shaver! That hurt!”

  “It's only gonna get worse. Now sit down.” Sandra's entire body was shaking now. She ran her hand down her suit jacket and pulled her cell phone out. The phone lit up and Sandra scrolled down to Cruz's contact. She sent a text message:

  “Need help @ cameraman's apt

  1248 Lilly St #204”

  She shoved the cell phone back into her pocket.

  “Max, let's cut to the chase. I'm giving you two minutes to get me the video from your camera. If you don't, I'll kill you. Period.”

  “You're crazy Shaver. You can't get away with all of this. Plus, I told you Martinez followed me back to work that day and took the drive! What do you want me to do Shaver?”

  “That whiny plea took ten seconds of your two minutes. It's a strange way to waste the last seconds of your life, but to each his own.”

  “Shaver! Martinez fucking has it!”

  “Then I'd suggest you call him, eh?”

  “Oh my God! I don't have his number!”

  Sandra's phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked down.

  “BRT”

  Then she heard a strange, muffled whistle followed by a horrendous screech from Max.

  “What the …!? You shot me! You shot my …”

  “Stay awake you little prick,” Shaver said. “It's just your knee, you'll live. That was slightly rude of me though Max, so I'll add two more minutes to your little lifetimer.”

  Sandra heard Max groan. Sweat was dripping down her chest. The closet suddenly felt like a coffin.

  “Max, wakie wakie. Tell me where I can find that video…purty please,” Shaver mocked in a slurred southern accent.

  “Okay…okay. I saved a copy of the video onto this computer here.”

  “And how did you get it to this computer?” Shaver asked.

  “Email.”

  “Really, something that size?”

  “Yes.” Sandra could hear Max's voice trailing off. “Shaver, you gotta help me out. I'm bleeding all over the place.”

  “Don't worry, Maxie. I've got an old friend coming to help you out.”

  “I need a doctor! Not a friend.”

  “Shhh, shhh, Maxie, don't waste your precious energy.” Sandra faintly heard the tapping of keyboard buttons being pushed. “Tomko? It's Shaver. I've got our video. Come over to Max's apartment to get his computer and send a tech over to Max's work to get that computer too.”

  “Tomko?! That's no goddamn friend! Oh shit, shit. I'm gonna die.” Sandra heard Max start to sob. “I'm going to die. This is bullshit. I'm so young Shaver.”

  “Shush Maxie, you aren't gonna die! Who would we have to film all of our exploits?”

  “Then why are you pointing your gun at me?”

  “Christ Max, am I? I'm conflicted. I've got this nagging feeling that I should get rid of all the witnesses to that unfortunate event a couple days ago.”

  “No, Shaver...”

  “But part of me also knows it wasn't your fault you were there. You were just doing your job, right?”

  “Exactly,” Max groaned. “Just my job…I won't say anything.”

  “See, I'd love to believe that Max, but I bet you made a similar promise to yourself that you wouldn't tell me where that video was. And, you caved on that promise.”

  “You shot me!”

  “True, Max. But, I just don't know if you would really protect our little secret. I think we should let Mr. Colt decide, okay? He's typically a good judge...”

  Sandra heard another of those muffled whistles and then a gurgle.

  “Oh shit, Max! That was...man. Mr. Colt, you're a bastard, ain't ya?” Sandra heard a gurgle. She stifled a cry that tried to emanate from her soul.

  “What a mess you've made, Mr. Colt. Such a travesty. Now, let's see what you've got around this place, Maxie.” Sandra heard footsteps come down the hall to the room where she was hiding. A switch clicked and Sandra could faintly see light stream under the closet door. Terror gripped her as the footsteps continued toward her room. She pressed into the corner of the closet as she heard Shaver take a deep breath through his nose.

  “I just don't get it Max. You're such a smelly shit but I'm catching the faintest trace of sweet woman. It's really confusing me. Whatchu hiding in this place? You get laid at lunch?” Another switch clicked and Sandra's room lit up.

  “Sweet, sweet woman. Let me see you princess.” Sandra's skin crawled as tears streamed silently down her face.

  “Mr. Colt, you check the closet.” Sandra saw the end of a gun slide in at the far end of the closet. She dug her nails into her shins and took a deep breath. All of a sudden the far closet door slammed in front of her. Shaver's shadow crept along the closet wall.

  “Eh, hello?” Sandra caught a glimpse of the monster through hanging clothes. He had a freckled, red face and sported a tight buzz cut. His jaws were more like jowls, two protruding muscles. He had deep-set, liquid blue eyes. She closed her eyes and remained dead still.

  “Hmm, trail went cold Mr. Colt.” The closet door closed. Sandra quietly exhaled. She guessed that the clothes in the closet masked her smell. Footsteps trailed away toward the front of the apartment. She heard rustling at Max's computer.

  “What's this, Max? Sandra Gutierrez…Station 9 News Reporter?” Sandra squirmed and held back a gasp. It must have been the business card she gave Max. “You don't work there though. Interesting.”

  After a few seconds, Sandra heard the front door open. “All right, Maxie. Remember to keep our little secret.” The front door slammed shut. Sandra waited in the closet for what seemed like an eternity. She grew stiff but her body would not release its clench. As more time passed, she swore she heard footsteps on the stairs outside of the apartment. The front door seemed to creak open slowly.

  “Hello?” came a voice. “Hellooo?” A footstep hit the linoleum in the entry way. “Oh my God,” Sandra heard the person gag and step back out of the apartment.

  “Sandra? Sandy, are you there?” Sandra wanted to scream, “Yes! I'm in here,” but the terror of what just happened seized her vocal cords. Footsteps ran into the apartment. “Sandra? Where the hell are you?”

  This time Sandra managed a weak, “Here.”

  “Sandra!” The footsteps neared the room she was in. She could tell it was Cruz's voice. She kicked out her right foot and struck the closet door in front of her. The footsteps stopped and the closet door flew open. Cruz stood there, mouth agape.

  * * * *

  Tomko sat in the middle of his living room listening to Shaver.

  “You fucking shot him?”

  “Had to.”

  “What do you mean you had to?”

  “He was a witness, Tomko.”

  “So what the hell then—am I next? This is out of hand, Shaver. All of this has been to protect your ass! I got shot for you!”

  “Tomko, Tomko—calm yourself. I appreciate what you've done and no, I'm not going to hurt you. I need you.”

  “And what about when you don't need me?”

  “Let's cross that bridge when we come to it,” Shaver
said with a disturbed laugh.

  “That's not funny!”

  “Oh chill out. Look, you were there too and didn't do anything. You've aided and abetted me in this and are now helping me get away with it. So, you're in the same damn boat.”

  “Forget that Shaver. You shot him.”

  “Sure Tomko, but that's not the whole picture, is it? If I go down, you go down. I promise.”

  Tomko grunted.

  “Our tech should be in the process of scrubbing the hard drive on Max's work computer. After that, we just need to find that crook Martinez and get that copy of the video back. Simple.”

  “Look, Shaver, we need to stop the violence. We're gonna catch a ton of shit soon if we aren't more careful.”

  “I agree, Tomko. Let's not forget that it was your little hostage situation with Mrs. Williams that really turned ugly. That's where the real heat is going to come from.” Not hearing anything from Tomko, Shaver added, “Follow up with the tech and we'll meet at my place tomorrow to figure out how to get to Martinez.”

  * * * *

  Martinez and Alicia climbed into his car, a solemn net cast about them.

  “Was it that big of a screw up?” Alicia asked.

  “It's…I know you were doin' your best. It just adds another layer of shit. Shaver would be plenty on his own, but now he's in the Chief's crosshairs. That drive would destroy the police department. The Chief won't let it happen.”

  “I'm sorry Martinez. The trauma of it all was too much. We haven't even buried Alvin and I've got to...” Martinez leaned over and took Alicia into his arms as she broke down.

  “I know Alicia. Don't worry 'bout it. We're gonna bring it to these punks. I still need your help though.”

  Alicia collected herself between sobs. She managed to take some deep breaths and look up at Martinez.

  “You're one of Carmen's best friends and I'm gonna need your help in convincing her to leave town. You know she won't accept leaving her own home. But, it's not just her in danger.” Martinez stopped, softened his face and lowered his voice, “I know you said you wouldn't leave, but do you understand the danger here? Do you understand why I need the two people I love the most out of here?