CHAPTER THREE
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Dutch had come across a name that cross-referenced with the five men who'd been college friends. Angie Holm. She had been in school with them as well, had dated two of the five and had been on their debate team.
She had left school suddenly with no explanation in her senior year.
Dutch showed Claudette the information he'd come up with.
"Well, that's pretty thin," Claudette said.
"But I also got this," he showed her another document. Claudette looked it over. "Okay, so nine months after she leave college, she has a baby. Not too unusual. She gets pregnant in college, the guy dumps her, add another single parent into the stats."
"Maybe one of her five buddies was the father."
Claudette sighed. She'd been looking into Holligan's records and found nothing. He had no other connection she could find with the deaths. When Schultz had been killed in fact, Holligan had been in Switzerland on business.
"Okay, you follow your Angie Holm lead. I've got to get some info on the Walsh kid. Aceveda wants a preliminary report by tomorrow, remember?"
Dutch shrugged. "Fine. But I think this serial homicide takes precedence over a shooting that IAD is going to investigate anyway." He shuffled off with his agenda. Claudette had her own.
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Shane reluctantly helped Stevie pack seven years worth of living in the same house. Stevie, who'd donned shorts and a tank top, was doing some badly needed cleaning that included cleaning the dust bunnies out from behind the refrigerator and vacuuming the vents. Her house was a rental, but she wanted the large cleaning deposit back.
"So, seriously," Shane asked, sweating from carting boxes around, "What are you going to do back home?"
Stevie shrugged. "I dunno. My cousin Jan sent me some want ads. There's an opening in the sheriff's department."
Shane grinned. "You, wearing one of those little 'Smokey the Bear' hats?"
Stevie returned the smile. She tossed a damp towel at Shane's head. He ducked.
"Yeah, why not?"
"It'd mess up your hair, for one thing. Dark green isn't your color, either."
Stevie just laughed.
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Lem and Vic took the 15-year-old girl to a dive motel. Vic told her it was for her own protection. She had her own opinion, but she didn't share it. The cops were giving her food, money, and a roof over her head for the time being. That was enough for now.
Jinx promised to stay in the room for at least 24 hours, provided someone bring her pizza and soda later.
Vic sighed as they left the room and headed back to the Durango. "I don't know what we're going to do about her."
"You think we can keep her hidden until IAD passes review on Shane?"
"Not without help. Call Ronnie. He's gonna hav'ta baby sit."
"The review is tomorrow. If we can keep her away from Claudette.." Lem shrugged.
"Yeah. That's the if," Vic agreed.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Dutch had tracked Angie Holm to an address in North Hollywood. He pulled the car to a stop in front of the address. "You sure you got this right, son?" Claudette asked, staring at the building. The sign outside read "Grove Side Long Term Care Facility."
Dutch looked at the address he'd gained from a credit card check.
"Yeah, this is it."
They went inside and found a reception desk inside the double front doors. "May I help you?" the girl at the desk asked brightly. "Detectives Holland and Wyms." He flashed his badge. "We're looking for an Angie Holm." The girl looked surprised. "Certainly. If you'll just sign in. She's in number 76. Go down all the way to the left then take the right hall. Fourth door on the right."
Dutch signed the register.
"Can you tell me anything about Ms Holm?" Claudette asked. "Oh, I'm not too familiar with the residents. I've only been here a month." "Does anyone come to see her?"
"Oh sure. Her daughter comes in every Friday at 4, like a clock."
"Thanks."
Dutch and Claudette went down the long hall of the glorified nursing home. It was nicer than most, no obvious medical equipment, no foul smells, no nurses milling about. It could almost pass as an apartment complex.
They found room 76 and Dutch knocked. There was no answer. He tried again. "No use knockin' honey," a voice said from behind. They turned to see a woman in a wheel chair rolling down the hall.
"Pardon?" Dutch asked.
"Angie cain't tell you to come in. Just go on in. She's in there. Just come from the beauty shop." "Do you know Angie Holm well?" Claudette asked the woman. "Shore." She was probably in her late fifties only, and looked young for it. She would have fit right in any business or restaurant. The only disability was apparently the wheelchair. "She's been here longer than me. An that's goin' on three years. Sweet as can be." "But she can't talk?" "Oh Lordy no. Never has." "Well, thank you." They went inside.
The room was well furnished and decorated with care. Overstuffed chairs and lined draperies made it look like a bedroom in a mansion. They noticed a woman in the bed, which only vaguely resembled a hospital bed.
"Ms Holm?" Claudette asked, approaching.
The woman was awake, watching a program on TV, or at least staring at it. She didn't turn when her visitors arrived. "Ms Holm, my name is Claudette Wyms. I'm a police officer."
Still no response.
Just then, a young woman in a pale pink pants suit came from the adjoining bathroom. She wore a nametag that proclaimed her to be Donna Sonji, RN.
She smiled. "Hello."
Claudette and Dutch went through introductions again.
"Well, I'm Ms Holm's nurse. Obviously, she can't help you much. What brings you by?"
"Well, we're investigating the death of some of her old college friends. We thought she might be of some help. How long has she been.like this?" Dutch asked.
"It's a state of catatonia," the nurse explained. "She's been this way for almost six years."
"What caused it?"
"She was in a car accident, hit head on into a cement barrier. She was in a coma for seven months. She became alert, but all her functions never quite returned."
"Her daughter comes to see her?"
"Missy, oh goodness yes. Every week on Fridays. I don't think she's ever missed one in all these years."
"And Missy pays for all this?"
"Well, I'm not sure. The business office handles all that, but I suppose."
"Where can we find the business office?" %% %% %%
Outside Angie Holm's room on their way to the business office, Dutch sighed.
"Well, she's certainly not our killer."
"There's the daughter," Claudette said with a shrug.
"But why? She wouldn't have known any of the men."
"Maybe. Maybe mom was hiding something."
They went to the business office and within minutes, had their answer.
%% %%
%%
"So Angie Holm's bills are paid for by Sam Holligan. That's a twist."
"I think we really need to find Missy Holm," Claudette said.
"I think you're right."
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Lem and Ronnie were taking turns "babysitting" the teenage girl. Vic arrived a little later with pizza in hand.
The girl, who'd finally admitted her real name was Rachel, tore into it hungrily, while Vic sat at the table opposite her. "So, you know we have a problem here," he told her. She nodded, wiping sauce from her lips. "Yeah. You're afraid I'm gonna find a reporter or another cop and rat out you friend."
Vic shrugged. "Something like that."
She drank some of the soda that Vic had brought, and then chewed her lip for a minute. "Maybe not."
"No? Maybe not why?"
"Maybe not if I wasn't around." "Where would you maybe be if you weren't here?" This had been Vic's idea. To get the girl to want to leave on her own.
"I've got a friend. She lives in Toledo. She has her own apartment and everything. If I had money, I could go there. I could go to school, like she is. Beauty school, you know, learn how to cut hair and do nails and stuff?" Vic nodded. "Sounds nice." Jinx ate more pizza. "Yeah," she said, her mouth half full. "An' if I had money for school, and I could get a job." she continued.
Vic had already planned to pay the girl enough to keep her mouth closed. But she had come up with the plan herself. Hell if she hadn't been a street hustler.
"So with a ticket to Toledo and some money for school and clothes and to help out your friend, you'd maybe forget about what you saw down at the docks?"
"Hey, I'm not stupid. I don't want to live on the street all my life. I can't get a deal like this every day. Hell yeah I'll go. For the right price. And you and your buddies will never hear from me again."
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The Next Day..............
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Aceveda corralled Claudette and Dutch as soon as he spotted them. "Any leads on the Walsh matter?"
"Well, in between the actual murder investigation we've been working," Claudette grumbled. She handed him a thin report. "we managed to come up with squat."
"The kid's only been in trouble once since he'd been here. He stole from a grocery store. There's no ties to the meth guys whatsoever," Dutch explained.
"Then why do you suppose he went after Mackey?" Aceveda asked, feigning ignorance.
"Maybe he met him once," Claudette muttered under her breath. "We don't know Captain. There seems to be no good reason."
"So maybe the shooting was unjustified?"
"We didn't investigate that," Dutch clarified. "Just the kid's background, friends, connections. And there just wasn't that much."
Aceveda just nodded. He was sure he'd made his point. And that was that the Walsh kid had no reason to try and attack a police officer. So maybe that's where Vic and Shane's story was thin. And that is what he would present to his inside connection on the shooting panel.
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Shane Vendrell wore a brown suit that still fit well, though it had been closeted since his last court appearance. He matched a tan stripped tie with the suit and managed to clean up rather well. He arrived at the IAD building early. He smoked outside and waited for Vic. Vic too arrived a few minutes early and met Shane out front.
Vic had donned a dark blue suit with a white shirt and blue pin stripe tie. His dark sunglasses made him look like a Mafioso rather than a police officer.
Shane crushed out his cigarette in the potted plant.
"You ready for this?" Vic asked his long time partner and friend.
They were about to appear before the Internal Affairs Department shooting board that would determine whether or not Shane's shooting of the Walsh kid was justified and within police procedure.
Shane shrugged. He was still struggling with his feelings over the questionable shoot. "Just keep it straight, it'll be fine," Vic reassured, in a low tone as people filed into the building.
"Vic, this is really messed up," Shane hissed.
"Messed up or not, if you don't hold out, your ass will be working assigned to dog shit duty in Pomona. Just tell it like we said it. Like it happened. I'll pull in the slack."
Shane reluctantly nodded. He knew Vic was right and again, his team leader was bailing his ass out of the fire. What Vic said might not have been the right thing to do, but it was the only thing that could be done for Shane to keep his position.
They went inside the government building together.
The IAD shooting board was made up of three IAD investigators, all from the LAPD and had previously been detectives, a civilian auditor appointed by the Police Commissioner and a member of the Police policy division.
Vic knew the IAD investigators. There was Travis Clay, a 50 something former homicide detective, Robert Webb, also a former homicide detective, and Lynden Polanski a former Lt in Burglary, who had always been considered somewhat of a rat, even in his division. Vic had also been informed of who the civilian auditor was, Jenna Wade, a political dolly of the Commissioner and large supporter of Captain Aceveda. The policy writer was Demont Lerger, the only African American on the board and somewhat of a nerd, never having been on the street; he kept his opinions to himself except if there was some kind of policy to be quoted. Vic knew the ones to watch out for were Wade and Polanski. He also knew Webb and Clay, who were from the 'old school' would vote to clear Shane right away. Lerger would go with the majority. That left only the other two to possibly throw a wrench in the works.
The members of the board filed in. They sat at a long table in the front of the room. There was one chair directly in front of them, which was where the person testifying would sit. Then there was a bench in the back for any witnesses.
The stenographer took her seat near the window.
Shane went to the 'hot seat'.
Clay, the board chairman, carried Shane's rather thick personnel file.
"Detective Vendrell, you're before the Internal Affairs Division Panel on Officer Involved civilian death. We are investigating the shooting death of one James M. Walsh, aged 15 of July 27 of this year," Clay began for the record. "Officer Vendrell, you have given sworn testimony to the board on July twenty nine. In this testimony you stated the shooting was necessitated by the threat to a fellow officer. Is that correct?"
Shane nodded. "Yes."
"Is there anything you wish to modify in your testimony? You're free to review the transcripts at this time."
Shane shook his head. "No. I don't need to review the transcripts. I don't have any changes."
"Det. Vendrell," Jenna Wade, the civilian a woman in her late twenties or early thirties with long dark hair spoke. "In your file it states you have had 8 formal complaints, and 3 shooting boards in a ten year career. Don't you find this to be excessive?"
Vic rolled his eyes. Here we go, he thought.
"Ma'am, I can't judge how a felon is going to react when law enforcement officers attempt to take him into custody. I've been shot at over 50 times, hit at least 20 times, spit on, kicked, and cussed out more times than I can count. So I'm glad at least one side is keeping good records."
Nice.
"Detective Vendrell, you may step down," Clay said then, interrupting any more input from Jenna Wade.
"Detective Mackey, would you take a seat?"
Vic and Shane traded places.
Clay read off the same formal address about the statement Vic had given previously as well, and added the same question, if Vic wanted to change or modify his previous testimony. "I do not wish to change anything, but I would like to add now that if it were not for Detective Vendrell, I might be severely injured or even dead. No matter what kind of weapon, it can inflict damage. I stand behind my partner's decision and would have made the same one myself, had the roles been reversed."
"Thank you detective."
"Detective Mackey," Polanski was at it now. "Isn't it true that there were severe allegations against you and your Strike Team, of which Det. Vendrell is a member, earlier this year?" "Lieutenant Polanski," Webb interrupted. "I don't see the bearing that has on this particular investigation." "Well, myself, like Ms Wade, have concerns about the particularly high use of violence that this entire unit has been able to brandish unrestricted over the city at large. I'm trying to establish a point that not only does detective Vendrell have a spotted record, but it is condoned by his team mates and team leader, who have rather tarnished records of their own."
Now it was on between Polanski and Webb.
"Lt, the Strike Team is not the target of the investigation here. Lets try and focus on Detective Vendrell and the shooting of July twenty seven." Polanski reluctantly shut up. He'd gotten his point noted on record. Vic was questioned again about his viewpoint. He remained true to his story. Shane had to admire Vic for one thing: a good memory. He always seemed to manage to keep up with the details, whether fact of fiction.
"The panel will recess for 20 minutes. Detective Vendrell, please return at that time for board judgment. Detective Mackey, you are dismissed."
Shane and Vic went back outside. Shane needed a damn cigarette. So much for trying to quit this week.
"What'da you think?" Shane asked Vic.
Vic smiled with confidence.
"I think it'll be fine. Clay and Webb put those two in their place pretty quick."
Shane still had his doubts as he went back into the building alone. Vic had left to go make sure Jinx made her bus. She was the only loose end. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Jenna Wade used her last few minutes before the board reconvened to make a phone call.
"David, it's me. I did my best, but Vendrell's going to clear."
On the other end of the line, Captain Aceveda sighed.
%%%% %%%%% %%%%
Shane took the chair again as the board members filed in. He couldn't help but feel his palms began to sweat.
Detective Webb read the brief. "Detective Vendrell, the Internal Affairs Department, Division of the Los Angeles Police Department, in the matter of the shooting of James M. Walsh on July 27 of this years finds you within policy of this department. You are herby reinstated to active duty."
Shane felt at least that weight now drop off his shoulders.
He walked with a lighter step as he left the IAD building. He was halfway to his truck when he heard high heels clicking behind him.
"Detective Vendrell," a woman called.
He glanced back and was none to happy to see Jenna Wade, the commissioner's appointee following him.
He slowed but didn't stop walking.
"Can I have a word with you?" she continued, finally catching up to him.
"What? Didn't you have enough fun in there?" he asked spitefully. He didn't have to answer to her now.
"I just wanted you to know that although you've been cleared by the board, I along with other concerned citizens, do not consider this matter to be over."
Shane stopped at his truck and whirled on the woman. "Lady, why don't you do a couple of tours on the street and then come talk to me about your high standards and moral values!" he said hotly.
Jenna took a step back, but never broke eye contact. "Between you and me, Vendrell, I know there was a witness. I just can't find her. If I find out you, or any one in your thug squad had something to do with her disappearance, I'll make sure you all fall like dominoes."
Shane was a little shocked that this 'auditor' knew about the girl. How in the hell.? He was too angry to reply.
"Whatever," he growled; opening his door and then slamming it, leaving Wade standing on the curb. He peeled out into the street, tires squeezing.
He immediately dialed Vic on his cell phone. "Yeah," Vic answered.
"Did the package get dropped off?" he asked, unnerved by what the brassy Jenna Wade had told him.
"It's cruising down the 5 even as we speak. Why?"
"I'll talk to you back at the barn."
"I take it your board was okay then?"
"In policy," he confirmed.
"Good. I'll be there in about 10." ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Claudette and Dutch had the landlord open the door of Missy Holm's apartment. They had the warrant in hand, but she didn't appear to be home.
"I hope nothin' happened to Missy," the elderly apartment owner told Claudette. "She always pays the rent on time."
"I'm sure she'd fine," Claudette said. "We'll just be a few minutes looking around, alright?"
He nodded and left them.
Dutch had already headed to the bedroom.
Claudette looked through the living area of the college dorm-esque apartment that had a view of the alley below.
Dutch came back moments later, carrying a photograph album in his surgical gloved hands.
"Take a look."
Claudette looked into the open book. There were pictures, and newspaper articles relaxed to each of the five men. The three dead and the two living.
"Well, that's interesting," Claudette agreed.
There were also a number of actual photos that were taken when the men were college age. Most featured the young woman the detectives now knew as Angie Holm, Missy's mother.
"And so it this," Dutch flipped to a page he'd found in the book.
".College Campus on Alert after Student Raped." Claudette read the headline of the 1972 paper. She went on to read the story of the 'unnamed 21 year old female student' who was treated in the emergency room after reporting being raped on campus. The woman reported not being able to identify her attacker.
"Obviously, Missy, and or Angie Holm believe it was one of the five buddies that raped her," Dutch said.
"And one is Missy's father," Claudette deduced. "More than likely the one paying Angie's bills."
"But maybe not. And if the father wasn't Holligan, why would she want to murder her own father?"
Claudette shrugged. "It wasn't exactly the most romantic experience of Angie Holm's life. Not something a child would ever want to know about."
"But Missy does know. And she's taking revenge for her mother."
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Jenna Wade met David Aceveda in a small, dim Chinese Restaurant that one would have been hard pressed to find if they had not been looking. It was safe for him to go there, especially to meet another woman, when the press was always after a scandal to smear his campaign.
Jenna wore a black business suit jacket and skit and a red blouse. Her long dark hair was pinned up. She didn't admit, hardly even to herself, that she was attracted to the handsome Captain. She knew he was married and that he had no intention of leaving his wife and baby. But that didn't stop her from at least pondering the idea. She knew David was only interested in her for the reason that she held the same goals as he: get the Strike Team off the street.
Jenna had been working for the commissioner long enough to know that there was no good that could come from having a 'hit squad' on the police force. She had studied files and reports, mainly concerning the team, for months. She had a very good idea that they had been dipping into the drug money they were supposed to be keeping off the street, even before the headlines broke. Basically, she thought Vic Mackey and his crew were thugs, who didn't belong in the business of enforcing the law.
Aceveda took the chair opposite her and smiled.
"Good to see you again," he said. They ordered tea from the oriental girl that appeared, then as quietly retreated to get their drinks.
"Well, like you said would probably happen, Clay and Webb beat down anything me or Lt Polanski had to say," Jenna told Aceveda.
He nodded. "I knew Mackey would call in favors on it. He and Clay go back." He was frustrated that every time it looked like he would get somewhere, make a chip in the Strike Team's armor, there was always someone there to patch the holes.
"I told Vendrell that I knew about the witness."
David raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected her to let that out so soon. "What did he say?" "Nothing. He took off. I know it shook him."
That was something, Aceveda supposed. "Do we have any more information on the girl?"
Jenna shook her head. "No. Unfortunately, she seems to have disappeared."
"Damn. No doubt Mackey had a hand in that as well."
"More then likely. But I'm still looking."
David smiled again. He knew Jenna was charmed by him, as were many, and he wasn't above using that to achieve his ends. "You're doing a wonderful job," he encouraged her. She blushed slightly. "Thank you David."
Indeed, he might be able to get many things accomplished using his undercover operative.
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Vic and Shane met in the Strike Team office. Vic had also called Ronnie and Lem off the street. He'd left Tavon out beating the bushes for the third meth cook, whom they'd not been able to apprehend yet.
"Hey man," Lem greeted Shane. "Heard your board went okay." Shane nodded. "Yeah, but we got a problem."
"What kind?" Vic wanted to know.
"My guess is the Aceveda kind. That civilian auditor Jenna Wade told me after the board that she knew about the girl."
"What?" Vic demanded. "How much did she know?"
Shane shrugged. "I dunno. I didn't stick around to find out. She just said this wasn't over and she knew there was a witness. And that the Strike Team was going down."
"Damn," Vic said. "She's got more balls than I gave her credit for."
"You think she's working with Aceveda?" Ronnie asked.
"Anything's possible. We've got to at least assume that. Ronnie, get on the computer and see what you can dig up on her. See if there's any ties to Captain Crusader."
Ronnie nodded.
"Well, Jinx is on a bus to Toledo and has enough cash to get her started. She's got no reason to come back here. No one can track her, I made damn sure of that," Vic said, thinking out loud. "They won't find her."
"There's always a chance," Shane argued.
"Look, this chick isn't going to get anywhere. No matter who's pulling her strings," Vic assured them. "We'll take care of it." Vic, Shane and Lem were on their way back out when Tavon Garris came in the front door escorting a handcuffed prisoner. Shane glanced at Vic. "New guy's been busy. Isn't that our third cook?"
Vic nodded. "Looks like," he said with a smile.
They watched as Tavon escorted the felon to the cage for the booking officer.
He finished up, and then walked over to Vic and the others.
"Way to go there, Tav," Vic said, slapping the younger officer on the back.
"I rounded him up back at his mom's, like you said," Tavon said with a shrug.
"Nice job. That wraps up this whole meth lab crew and all the ends are tied nice and neat."
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Claudette and Dutch waited in the overstuffed chairs of Angie Holm's room. It was after three on Friday. By all accounts, the wayward Missy Holm was due any minute.
Sure enough, just about four o'clock, the door opened and a strikingly pretty woman with red hair came inside.
She didn't immediately see the detectives, being focused on her mother, who was in bed, staring at the television.
"Hey mamma," she said with a bright smile. Then it faded as she noticed the detectives.
Claudette and Dutch stood up.
"Yes?" she asked, reluctantly. "Detectives Holland and Wyms. Missy Holm?" She nodded. "We need to ask you a few questions."
Missy sank down on the chair by her mother's bed and took the older woman's hand.
"Gene Schultz, Greg Kozlawski, Bill Henzler?" Dutch asked.
Missy didn't respond right away, then wiped at her eyes.
"It ate at her," she finally said, speaking to the detectives but looking at her mother. "She was never right. I was fifteen years old when she finally told me. The day before she ran her car into the wall."
"Your mother told you she was raped?" Claudette asked gently.
Missy nodded. "She didn't know who it was, but it was one of her college friends, one of the five men in this picture?" Dutch placed the old photo on the bed where missy could see it.
The young woman looked up at Dutch with teary eyes. "It wasn't just one of them. It was all of them."
"Dear Lord," Claudette whispered.
Dutch swallowed. "And.one of them is your father?"
Missy nodded.
"Sam Holligan?"
"I don't know. Maybe he was just the only one with a conscience. When he heard about Mom, I was taking care of her, trying to go to school. He had her put here, paid for everything, put me through school.."
"Did you plan on killing him too?"
Her tears fell freely. "I had to do it. Look what they did to her!"
Dutch and Claudette looked at each other.
"Missy Holm, you have the right to remain silent.you have the right to an attorney."
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Shane walked with Stevie out to the U-Haul truck. Her car was on a trailer behind the truck.
It was early evening, and he happened to notice how the setting sunlight shined on her long hair making it glow golden. He knew he'd screwed up bad.
"So you're really going," he said, more of a statement than a question.
She stopped at the door of the truck. She nodded. "Looks like."
"Than I guess there's nothin' I can say to change your mind."
She shook her head. She was doing all she could to keep from crying in front of him.
He pulled her into a hug. "Then good luck baby," he whispered as he held her.
After a few moments, they broke.
"I better get going."
Shane nodded. He hated goodbyes.
"I wish you'd stay," he said simply.
"I can't."
"I know."
She got into the truck then and he stood at the open window.
"Call me sometime; tell me about that hot weather down there." Stevie tried to smile. "I will." She reached out and gently touched his cheek. "Bye Shane."
He stepped away from the U-Haul and she started it up and slowly pulled away from the curb.
Shane watched until she turned the corner and was gone. He could do nothing but stick his hands in the pockets of his jeans and shuffle back into the house.
********************************************************** If my love is not enough to hold you down * Then what more can I give to you* If I could reach into your heart somehow* And find a way to make you stay*
But I can't turn the tide* When It's going out on me* I can't keep you here* If you want to leave* A sailor's at the mercy of the sea* I can't turn the tide* When it's going out on me*
In my heart I only want the best for you* And I hope you find what you're looking for* Life goes on there's nothing else that I can do* And if it's meant to be you'll come back to me*
But I can't turn the tide* When it's going out on me* I can't keep you here if you want to leave* No I can't turn the tide..
Dutch had come across a name that cross-referenced with the five men who'd been college friends. Angie Holm. She had been in school with them as well, had dated two of the five and had been on their debate team.
She had left school suddenly with no explanation in her senior year.
Dutch showed Claudette the information he'd come up with.
"Well, that's pretty thin," Claudette said.
"But I also got this," he showed her another document. Claudette looked it over. "Okay, so nine months after she leave college, she has a baby. Not too unusual. She gets pregnant in college, the guy dumps her, add another single parent into the stats."
"Maybe one of her five buddies was the father."
Claudette sighed. She'd been looking into Holligan's records and found nothing. He had no other connection she could find with the deaths. When Schultz had been killed in fact, Holligan had been in Switzerland on business.
"Okay, you follow your Angie Holm lead. I've got to get some info on the Walsh kid. Aceveda wants a preliminary report by tomorrow, remember?"
Dutch shrugged. "Fine. But I think this serial homicide takes precedence over a shooting that IAD is going to investigate anyway." He shuffled off with his agenda. Claudette had her own.
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Shane reluctantly helped Stevie pack seven years worth of living in the same house. Stevie, who'd donned shorts and a tank top, was doing some badly needed cleaning that included cleaning the dust bunnies out from behind the refrigerator and vacuuming the vents. Her house was a rental, but she wanted the large cleaning deposit back.
"So, seriously," Shane asked, sweating from carting boxes around, "What are you going to do back home?"
Stevie shrugged. "I dunno. My cousin Jan sent me some want ads. There's an opening in the sheriff's department."
Shane grinned. "You, wearing one of those little 'Smokey the Bear' hats?"
Stevie returned the smile. She tossed a damp towel at Shane's head. He ducked.
"Yeah, why not?"
"It'd mess up your hair, for one thing. Dark green isn't your color, either."
Stevie just laughed.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Lem and Vic took the 15-year-old girl to a dive motel. Vic told her it was for her own protection. She had her own opinion, but she didn't share it. The cops were giving her food, money, and a roof over her head for the time being. That was enough for now.
Jinx promised to stay in the room for at least 24 hours, provided someone bring her pizza and soda later.
Vic sighed as they left the room and headed back to the Durango. "I don't know what we're going to do about her."
"You think we can keep her hidden until IAD passes review on Shane?"
"Not without help. Call Ronnie. He's gonna hav'ta baby sit."
"The review is tomorrow. If we can keep her away from Claudette.." Lem shrugged.
"Yeah. That's the if," Vic agreed.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Dutch had tracked Angie Holm to an address in North Hollywood. He pulled the car to a stop in front of the address. "You sure you got this right, son?" Claudette asked, staring at the building. The sign outside read "Grove Side Long Term Care Facility."
Dutch looked at the address he'd gained from a credit card check.
"Yeah, this is it."
They went inside and found a reception desk inside the double front doors. "May I help you?" the girl at the desk asked brightly. "Detectives Holland and Wyms." He flashed his badge. "We're looking for an Angie Holm." The girl looked surprised. "Certainly. If you'll just sign in. She's in number 76. Go down all the way to the left then take the right hall. Fourth door on the right."
Dutch signed the register.
"Can you tell me anything about Ms Holm?" Claudette asked. "Oh, I'm not too familiar with the residents. I've only been here a month." "Does anyone come to see her?"
"Oh sure. Her daughter comes in every Friday at 4, like a clock."
"Thanks."
Dutch and Claudette went down the long hall of the glorified nursing home. It was nicer than most, no obvious medical equipment, no foul smells, no nurses milling about. It could almost pass as an apartment complex.
They found room 76 and Dutch knocked. There was no answer. He tried again. "No use knockin' honey," a voice said from behind. They turned to see a woman in a wheel chair rolling down the hall.
"Pardon?" Dutch asked.
"Angie cain't tell you to come in. Just go on in. She's in there. Just come from the beauty shop." "Do you know Angie Holm well?" Claudette asked the woman. "Shore." She was probably in her late fifties only, and looked young for it. She would have fit right in any business or restaurant. The only disability was apparently the wheelchair. "She's been here longer than me. An that's goin' on three years. Sweet as can be." "But she can't talk?" "Oh Lordy no. Never has." "Well, thank you." They went inside.
The room was well furnished and decorated with care. Overstuffed chairs and lined draperies made it look like a bedroom in a mansion. They noticed a woman in the bed, which only vaguely resembled a hospital bed.
"Ms Holm?" Claudette asked, approaching.
The woman was awake, watching a program on TV, or at least staring at it. She didn't turn when her visitors arrived. "Ms Holm, my name is Claudette Wyms. I'm a police officer."
Still no response.
Just then, a young woman in a pale pink pants suit came from the adjoining bathroom. She wore a nametag that proclaimed her to be Donna Sonji, RN.
She smiled. "Hello."
Claudette and Dutch went through introductions again.
"Well, I'm Ms Holm's nurse. Obviously, she can't help you much. What brings you by?"
"Well, we're investigating the death of some of her old college friends. We thought she might be of some help. How long has she been.like this?" Dutch asked.
"It's a state of catatonia," the nurse explained. "She's been this way for almost six years."
"What caused it?"
"She was in a car accident, hit head on into a cement barrier. She was in a coma for seven months. She became alert, but all her functions never quite returned."
"Her daughter comes to see her?"
"Missy, oh goodness yes. Every week on Fridays. I don't think she's ever missed one in all these years."
"And Missy pays for all this?"
"Well, I'm not sure. The business office handles all that, but I suppose."
"Where can we find the business office?" %% %% %%
Outside Angie Holm's room on their way to the business office, Dutch sighed.
"Well, she's certainly not our killer."
"There's the daughter," Claudette said with a shrug.
"But why? She wouldn't have known any of the men."
"Maybe. Maybe mom was hiding something."
They went to the business office and within minutes, had their answer.
%% %%
%%
"So Angie Holm's bills are paid for by Sam Holligan. That's a twist."
"I think we really need to find Missy Holm," Claudette said.
"I think you're right."
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Lem and Ronnie were taking turns "babysitting" the teenage girl. Vic arrived a little later with pizza in hand.
The girl, who'd finally admitted her real name was Rachel, tore into it hungrily, while Vic sat at the table opposite her. "So, you know we have a problem here," he told her. She nodded, wiping sauce from her lips. "Yeah. You're afraid I'm gonna find a reporter or another cop and rat out you friend."
Vic shrugged. "Something like that."
She drank some of the soda that Vic had brought, and then chewed her lip for a minute. "Maybe not."
"No? Maybe not why?"
"Maybe not if I wasn't around." "Where would you maybe be if you weren't here?" This had been Vic's idea. To get the girl to want to leave on her own.
"I've got a friend. She lives in Toledo. She has her own apartment and everything. If I had money, I could go there. I could go to school, like she is. Beauty school, you know, learn how to cut hair and do nails and stuff?" Vic nodded. "Sounds nice." Jinx ate more pizza. "Yeah," she said, her mouth half full. "An' if I had money for school, and I could get a job." she continued.
Vic had already planned to pay the girl enough to keep her mouth closed. But she had come up with the plan herself. Hell if she hadn't been a street hustler.
"So with a ticket to Toledo and some money for school and clothes and to help out your friend, you'd maybe forget about what you saw down at the docks?"
"Hey, I'm not stupid. I don't want to live on the street all my life. I can't get a deal like this every day. Hell yeah I'll go. For the right price. And you and your buddies will never hear from me again."
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
The Next Day..............
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Aceveda corralled Claudette and Dutch as soon as he spotted them. "Any leads on the Walsh matter?"
"Well, in between the actual murder investigation we've been working," Claudette grumbled. She handed him a thin report. "we managed to come up with squat."
"The kid's only been in trouble once since he'd been here. He stole from a grocery store. There's no ties to the meth guys whatsoever," Dutch explained.
"Then why do you suppose he went after Mackey?" Aceveda asked, feigning ignorance.
"Maybe he met him once," Claudette muttered under her breath. "We don't know Captain. There seems to be no good reason."
"So maybe the shooting was unjustified?"
"We didn't investigate that," Dutch clarified. "Just the kid's background, friends, connections. And there just wasn't that much."
Aceveda just nodded. He was sure he'd made his point. And that was that the Walsh kid had no reason to try and attack a police officer. So maybe that's where Vic and Shane's story was thin. And that is what he would present to his inside connection on the shooting panel.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Shane Vendrell wore a brown suit that still fit well, though it had been closeted since his last court appearance. He matched a tan stripped tie with the suit and managed to clean up rather well. He arrived at the IAD building early. He smoked outside and waited for Vic. Vic too arrived a few minutes early and met Shane out front.
Vic had donned a dark blue suit with a white shirt and blue pin stripe tie. His dark sunglasses made him look like a Mafioso rather than a police officer.
Shane crushed out his cigarette in the potted plant.
"You ready for this?" Vic asked his long time partner and friend.
They were about to appear before the Internal Affairs Department shooting board that would determine whether or not Shane's shooting of the Walsh kid was justified and within police procedure.
Shane shrugged. He was still struggling with his feelings over the questionable shoot. "Just keep it straight, it'll be fine," Vic reassured, in a low tone as people filed into the building.
"Vic, this is really messed up," Shane hissed.
"Messed up or not, if you don't hold out, your ass will be working assigned to dog shit duty in Pomona. Just tell it like we said it. Like it happened. I'll pull in the slack."
Shane reluctantly nodded. He knew Vic was right and again, his team leader was bailing his ass out of the fire. What Vic said might not have been the right thing to do, but it was the only thing that could be done for Shane to keep his position.
They went inside the government building together.
The IAD shooting board was made up of three IAD investigators, all from the LAPD and had previously been detectives, a civilian auditor appointed by the Police Commissioner and a member of the Police policy division.
Vic knew the IAD investigators. There was Travis Clay, a 50 something former homicide detective, Robert Webb, also a former homicide detective, and Lynden Polanski a former Lt in Burglary, who had always been considered somewhat of a rat, even in his division. Vic had also been informed of who the civilian auditor was, Jenna Wade, a political dolly of the Commissioner and large supporter of Captain Aceveda. The policy writer was Demont Lerger, the only African American on the board and somewhat of a nerd, never having been on the street; he kept his opinions to himself except if there was some kind of policy to be quoted. Vic knew the ones to watch out for were Wade and Polanski. He also knew Webb and Clay, who were from the 'old school' would vote to clear Shane right away. Lerger would go with the majority. That left only the other two to possibly throw a wrench in the works.
The members of the board filed in. They sat at a long table in the front of the room. There was one chair directly in front of them, which was where the person testifying would sit. Then there was a bench in the back for any witnesses.
The stenographer took her seat near the window.
Shane went to the 'hot seat'.
Clay, the board chairman, carried Shane's rather thick personnel file.
"Detective Vendrell, you're before the Internal Affairs Division Panel on Officer Involved civilian death. We are investigating the shooting death of one James M. Walsh, aged 15 of July 27 of this year," Clay began for the record. "Officer Vendrell, you have given sworn testimony to the board on July twenty nine. In this testimony you stated the shooting was necessitated by the threat to a fellow officer. Is that correct?"
Shane nodded. "Yes."
"Is there anything you wish to modify in your testimony? You're free to review the transcripts at this time."
Shane shook his head. "No. I don't need to review the transcripts. I don't have any changes."
"Det. Vendrell," Jenna Wade, the civilian a woman in her late twenties or early thirties with long dark hair spoke. "In your file it states you have had 8 formal complaints, and 3 shooting boards in a ten year career. Don't you find this to be excessive?"
Vic rolled his eyes. Here we go, he thought.
"Ma'am, I can't judge how a felon is going to react when law enforcement officers attempt to take him into custody. I've been shot at over 50 times, hit at least 20 times, spit on, kicked, and cussed out more times than I can count. So I'm glad at least one side is keeping good records."
Nice.
"Detective Vendrell, you may step down," Clay said then, interrupting any more input from Jenna Wade.
"Detective Mackey, would you take a seat?"
Vic and Shane traded places.
Clay read off the same formal address about the statement Vic had given previously as well, and added the same question, if Vic wanted to change or modify his previous testimony. "I do not wish to change anything, but I would like to add now that if it were not for Detective Vendrell, I might be severely injured or even dead. No matter what kind of weapon, it can inflict damage. I stand behind my partner's decision and would have made the same one myself, had the roles been reversed."
"Thank you detective."
"Detective Mackey," Polanski was at it now. "Isn't it true that there were severe allegations against you and your Strike Team, of which Det. Vendrell is a member, earlier this year?" "Lieutenant Polanski," Webb interrupted. "I don't see the bearing that has on this particular investigation." "Well, myself, like Ms Wade, have concerns about the particularly high use of violence that this entire unit has been able to brandish unrestricted over the city at large. I'm trying to establish a point that not only does detective Vendrell have a spotted record, but it is condoned by his team mates and team leader, who have rather tarnished records of their own."
Now it was on between Polanski and Webb.
"Lt, the Strike Team is not the target of the investigation here. Lets try and focus on Detective Vendrell and the shooting of July twenty seven." Polanski reluctantly shut up. He'd gotten his point noted on record. Vic was questioned again about his viewpoint. He remained true to his story. Shane had to admire Vic for one thing: a good memory. He always seemed to manage to keep up with the details, whether fact of fiction.
"The panel will recess for 20 minutes. Detective Vendrell, please return at that time for board judgment. Detective Mackey, you are dismissed."
Shane and Vic went back outside. Shane needed a damn cigarette. So much for trying to quit this week.
"What'da you think?" Shane asked Vic.
Vic smiled with confidence.
"I think it'll be fine. Clay and Webb put those two in their place pretty quick."
Shane still had his doubts as he went back into the building alone. Vic had left to go make sure Jinx made her bus. She was the only loose end. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Jenna Wade used her last few minutes before the board reconvened to make a phone call.
"David, it's me. I did my best, but Vendrell's going to clear."
On the other end of the line, Captain Aceveda sighed.
%%%% %%%%% %%%%
Shane took the chair again as the board members filed in. He couldn't help but feel his palms began to sweat.
Detective Webb read the brief. "Detective Vendrell, the Internal Affairs Department, Division of the Los Angeles Police Department, in the matter of the shooting of James M. Walsh on July 27 of this years finds you within policy of this department. You are herby reinstated to active duty."
Shane felt at least that weight now drop off his shoulders.
He walked with a lighter step as he left the IAD building. He was halfway to his truck when he heard high heels clicking behind him.
"Detective Vendrell," a woman called.
He glanced back and was none to happy to see Jenna Wade, the commissioner's appointee following him.
He slowed but didn't stop walking.
"Can I have a word with you?" she continued, finally catching up to him.
"What? Didn't you have enough fun in there?" he asked spitefully. He didn't have to answer to her now.
"I just wanted you to know that although you've been cleared by the board, I along with other concerned citizens, do not consider this matter to be over."
Shane stopped at his truck and whirled on the woman. "Lady, why don't you do a couple of tours on the street and then come talk to me about your high standards and moral values!" he said hotly.
Jenna took a step back, but never broke eye contact. "Between you and me, Vendrell, I know there was a witness. I just can't find her. If I find out you, or any one in your thug squad had something to do with her disappearance, I'll make sure you all fall like dominoes."
Shane was a little shocked that this 'auditor' knew about the girl. How in the hell.? He was too angry to reply.
"Whatever," he growled; opening his door and then slamming it, leaving Wade standing on the curb. He peeled out into the street, tires squeezing.
He immediately dialed Vic on his cell phone. "Yeah," Vic answered.
"Did the package get dropped off?" he asked, unnerved by what the brassy Jenna Wade had told him.
"It's cruising down the 5 even as we speak. Why?"
"I'll talk to you back at the barn."
"I take it your board was okay then?"
"In policy," he confirmed.
"Good. I'll be there in about 10." ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Claudette and Dutch had the landlord open the door of Missy Holm's apartment. They had the warrant in hand, but she didn't appear to be home.
"I hope nothin' happened to Missy," the elderly apartment owner told Claudette. "She always pays the rent on time."
"I'm sure she'd fine," Claudette said. "We'll just be a few minutes looking around, alright?"
He nodded and left them.
Dutch had already headed to the bedroom.
Claudette looked through the living area of the college dorm-esque apartment that had a view of the alley below.
Dutch came back moments later, carrying a photograph album in his surgical gloved hands.
"Take a look."
Claudette looked into the open book. There were pictures, and newspaper articles relaxed to each of the five men. The three dead and the two living.
"Well, that's interesting," Claudette agreed.
There were also a number of actual photos that were taken when the men were college age. Most featured the young woman the detectives now knew as Angie Holm, Missy's mother.
"And so it this," Dutch flipped to a page he'd found in the book.
".College Campus on Alert after Student Raped." Claudette read the headline of the 1972 paper. She went on to read the story of the 'unnamed 21 year old female student' who was treated in the emergency room after reporting being raped on campus. The woman reported not being able to identify her attacker.
"Obviously, Missy, and or Angie Holm believe it was one of the five buddies that raped her," Dutch said.
"And one is Missy's father," Claudette deduced. "More than likely the one paying Angie's bills."
"But maybe not. And if the father wasn't Holligan, why would she want to murder her own father?"
Claudette shrugged. "It wasn't exactly the most romantic experience of Angie Holm's life. Not something a child would ever want to know about."
"But Missy does know. And she's taking revenge for her mother."
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Jenna Wade met David Aceveda in a small, dim Chinese Restaurant that one would have been hard pressed to find if they had not been looking. It was safe for him to go there, especially to meet another woman, when the press was always after a scandal to smear his campaign.
Jenna wore a black business suit jacket and skit and a red blouse. Her long dark hair was pinned up. She didn't admit, hardly even to herself, that she was attracted to the handsome Captain. She knew he was married and that he had no intention of leaving his wife and baby. But that didn't stop her from at least pondering the idea. She knew David was only interested in her for the reason that she held the same goals as he: get the Strike Team off the street.
Jenna had been working for the commissioner long enough to know that there was no good that could come from having a 'hit squad' on the police force. She had studied files and reports, mainly concerning the team, for months. She had a very good idea that they had been dipping into the drug money they were supposed to be keeping off the street, even before the headlines broke. Basically, she thought Vic Mackey and his crew were thugs, who didn't belong in the business of enforcing the law.
Aceveda took the chair opposite her and smiled.
"Good to see you again," he said. They ordered tea from the oriental girl that appeared, then as quietly retreated to get their drinks.
"Well, like you said would probably happen, Clay and Webb beat down anything me or Lt Polanski had to say," Jenna told Aceveda.
He nodded. "I knew Mackey would call in favors on it. He and Clay go back." He was frustrated that every time it looked like he would get somewhere, make a chip in the Strike Team's armor, there was always someone there to patch the holes.
"I told Vendrell that I knew about the witness."
David raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected her to let that out so soon. "What did he say?" "Nothing. He took off. I know it shook him."
That was something, Aceveda supposed. "Do we have any more information on the girl?"
Jenna shook her head. "No. Unfortunately, she seems to have disappeared."
"Damn. No doubt Mackey had a hand in that as well."
"More then likely. But I'm still looking."
David smiled again. He knew Jenna was charmed by him, as were many, and he wasn't above using that to achieve his ends. "You're doing a wonderful job," he encouraged her. She blushed slightly. "Thank you David."
Indeed, he might be able to get many things accomplished using his undercover operative.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Vic and Shane met in the Strike Team office. Vic had also called Ronnie and Lem off the street. He'd left Tavon out beating the bushes for the third meth cook, whom they'd not been able to apprehend yet.
"Hey man," Lem greeted Shane. "Heard your board went okay." Shane nodded. "Yeah, but we got a problem."
"What kind?" Vic wanted to know.
"My guess is the Aceveda kind. That civilian auditor Jenna Wade told me after the board that she knew about the girl."
"What?" Vic demanded. "How much did she know?"
Shane shrugged. "I dunno. I didn't stick around to find out. She just said this wasn't over and she knew there was a witness. And that the Strike Team was going down."
"Damn," Vic said. "She's got more balls than I gave her credit for."
"You think she's working with Aceveda?" Ronnie asked.
"Anything's possible. We've got to at least assume that. Ronnie, get on the computer and see what you can dig up on her. See if there's any ties to Captain Crusader."
Ronnie nodded.
"Well, Jinx is on a bus to Toledo and has enough cash to get her started. She's got no reason to come back here. No one can track her, I made damn sure of that," Vic said, thinking out loud. "They won't find her."
"There's always a chance," Shane argued.
"Look, this chick isn't going to get anywhere. No matter who's pulling her strings," Vic assured them. "We'll take care of it." Vic, Shane and Lem were on their way back out when Tavon Garris came in the front door escorting a handcuffed prisoner. Shane glanced at Vic. "New guy's been busy. Isn't that our third cook?"
Vic nodded. "Looks like," he said with a smile.
They watched as Tavon escorted the felon to the cage for the booking officer.
He finished up, and then walked over to Vic and the others.
"Way to go there, Tav," Vic said, slapping the younger officer on the back.
"I rounded him up back at his mom's, like you said," Tavon said with a shrug.
"Nice job. That wraps up this whole meth lab crew and all the ends are tied nice and neat."
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Claudette and Dutch waited in the overstuffed chairs of Angie Holm's room. It was after three on Friday. By all accounts, the wayward Missy Holm was due any minute.
Sure enough, just about four o'clock, the door opened and a strikingly pretty woman with red hair came inside.
She didn't immediately see the detectives, being focused on her mother, who was in bed, staring at the television.
"Hey mamma," she said with a bright smile. Then it faded as she noticed the detectives.
Claudette and Dutch stood up.
"Yes?" she asked, reluctantly. "Detectives Holland and Wyms. Missy Holm?" She nodded. "We need to ask you a few questions."
Missy sank down on the chair by her mother's bed and took the older woman's hand.
"Gene Schultz, Greg Kozlawski, Bill Henzler?" Dutch asked.
Missy didn't respond right away, then wiped at her eyes.
"It ate at her," she finally said, speaking to the detectives but looking at her mother. "She was never right. I was fifteen years old when she finally told me. The day before she ran her car into the wall."
"Your mother told you she was raped?" Claudette asked gently.
Missy nodded. "She didn't know who it was, but it was one of her college friends, one of the five men in this picture?" Dutch placed the old photo on the bed where missy could see it.
The young woman looked up at Dutch with teary eyes. "It wasn't just one of them. It was all of them."
"Dear Lord," Claudette whispered.
Dutch swallowed. "And.one of them is your father?"
Missy nodded.
"Sam Holligan?"
"I don't know. Maybe he was just the only one with a conscience. When he heard about Mom, I was taking care of her, trying to go to school. He had her put here, paid for everything, put me through school.."
"Did you plan on killing him too?"
Her tears fell freely. "I had to do it. Look what they did to her!"
Dutch and Claudette looked at each other.
"Missy Holm, you have the right to remain silent.you have the right to an attorney."
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Shane walked with Stevie out to the U-Haul truck. Her car was on a trailer behind the truck.
It was early evening, and he happened to notice how the setting sunlight shined on her long hair making it glow golden. He knew he'd screwed up bad.
"So you're really going," he said, more of a statement than a question.
She stopped at the door of the truck. She nodded. "Looks like."
"Than I guess there's nothin' I can say to change your mind."
She shook her head. She was doing all she could to keep from crying in front of him.
He pulled her into a hug. "Then good luck baby," he whispered as he held her.
After a few moments, they broke.
"I better get going."
Shane nodded. He hated goodbyes.
"I wish you'd stay," he said simply.
"I can't."
"I know."
She got into the truck then and he stood at the open window.
"Call me sometime; tell me about that hot weather down there." Stevie tried to smile. "I will." She reached out and gently touched his cheek. "Bye Shane."
He stepped away from the U-Haul and she started it up and slowly pulled away from the curb.
Shane watched until she turned the corner and was gone. He could do nothing but stick his hands in the pockets of his jeans and shuffle back into the house.
********************************************************** If my love is not enough to hold you down * Then what more can I give to you* If I could reach into your heart somehow* And find a way to make you stay*
But I can't turn the tide* When It's going out on me* I can't keep you here* If you want to leave* A sailor's at the mercy of the sea* I can't turn the tide* When it's going out on me*
In my heart I only want the best for you* And I hope you find what you're looking for* Life goes on there's nothing else that I can do* And if it's meant to be you'll come back to me*
But I can't turn the tide* When it's going out on me* I can't keep you here if you want to leave* No I can't turn the tide..