Recovery

Chapter 23

Journal of John Nolan

Convincing Grey to help me get a pass to see Smitty wasn't as hard as I thought it might be. He not only got one for me, he got one for Harper. He didn't say so, but I think he's pulling for Smitty. I guess Smitty's been a fixture around Mid-Wilshire so long that the place wouldn't be the same without him. And I doubt Grey thinks Smitty's involved in La Fiera's escape any more than I do.

Smitty's guards told us we only had five minutes, so Harper started asking questions the second the door closed behind us. Mostly she asked about who Smitty saw besides La Fiera and what they were wearing. They all had yellow shoes, but they weren't sneakers. Later Harper told me that meant the attackers were a few rungs up the ladder from dealers and enforcers. They wouldn't have been part of La Fiera's inner circle, but they wouldn't have been far out of it either.

Smitty was surprisingly detailed with his physical descriptions of La Fiera's henchmen. He noticed scars, tattoos, and in one case, a rash on a man's neck. Harper also asked if Smitty heard anyone mention Del Monte. He thought someone had because he remembered picturing a pineapple. I don't know how well the mental image of a pineapple would fare as evidence. But it was the best Smitty could give us.

Harper recorded everything Smitty said during our limited time with him. She cut it so close that I had to rush to use our last few seconds to get the signature that was our excuse for running the gauntlet. But Harper held up crossed fingers when I asked if she got what she wanted. She said she's going to share what she has with detectives that she knows she can trust and see what they can figure out. She wouldn't tell me any more than that, but I guess she feels that what I don't know, I can't be compelled to tell. I trust her. I guess I have to. My future is still in her hands.

Due to the combined forces of the firefighters, many of the infernos have been beaten back. Several in the hills and canyons are still burning, but they're at least partially under control. She didn't want to, but Bailey's captain made her take some downtime, and I was determined to pamper her. She isn't staying across the street anymore. Around the time Bailey got called up, my neighbors came home to make sure neither their dog nor their home was in danger. Our neighborhood got some smoke and ash, but fortunately, none of the blazes got close enough to require evacuation. However, I could understand their concern. I was nervous too.

For a while, it seemed that Bailey's apartment would be in the path of the flames. So I offered her my guest room. But I was surprised when she agreed to stay. She could have camped out at the fire station. I guess she was telling the truth when she said she liked what I did with the house.

I brought her breakfast in bed before I left for work. I wanted to make French toast, but of course, my bread was moldy. I managed a decent omelet with some fresh fruit. I stopped at Gianinno's for pasta primavera and salads on the way home. That went over pretty well. She likes green stuff. I think a little red wine helped too.

She has to go back on duty tomorrow, but she'll be working at an aid station behind the lines. That will be safer – unless the wind shifts. At least we can have breakfast together before she leaves. I suppose that will be in the way of a celebration. It will be my last day as a rookie. I'll still be with Harper. I'm hoping that she'll have something more on Del Monte.


"Did you find out anything more about Del Monte?" Nolan asks as he guides the shop out of the garage.

"Nothing solid," Harper admits. "But June Zhang told me that he's been in on several operations that went south. They were all associated with La Fiera's competition. June almost didn't make it out of one of them alive when a kitchen blew up. And one of our plants with La Fiera heard something about a pineapple. At the time, she thought it referred to a grenade. But grenades weren't involved in the explosion that happened right after that. Pineapple could be La Fiera's nickname for Del Monte."

Nolan drums on the steering wheel. "You're right about that not being solid. So what next?"

"What's next is you get through today without screwing up. Flash our lights at that car in front of us. The tags are expired."

"Is that what we're going to do all day?" Nolan protests. "Traffic stops?"

"We'll take care of whatever is in front of us, Nolan. And right now, that's a car with expired tags. But don't let down your guard. You know that a traffic stop can turn into anything."

"I know. The only things more likely to go bad are domestic violence calls. Rookie 101."

"The simple stuff is what gets cops killed when they get cocky," Harper reminds him. "I'll call it in. Check it out, but watch your six."

The woman at the wheel rolls down the window as Nolan approaches and bats heavily mascaraed eyelashes at Him. "I wasn't speeding, officer."

"No, Ma'am," John agrees, "but the stickers on your license plate expired three months ago. License and registration, please."

"The driver's breasts come perilously close to popping out of her bustier as she leans over to retrieve her registration from her glove compartment. She picks up a slim zippered pouch and withdraws her license. Rounding her lips with her tongue, she hands the cards to Nolan, with her license on top. This is me. Good picture, don't you think? Cameras, among other things, love me."

John swallows. "Yes, I see Ms. Featherwood. It's very nice. But I'm afraid you'll need to catch up on your registration fees, and I'll have to give you a ticket."

Featherwood slips her index finger into her mouth and sucks on the tip. "Can't we work something out, Officer? I would be very grateful."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Featherwood," John responds. "But police officers aren't allowed to accept favors – in any form."

"I could make you feel things you never felt before," Featherwood persists.

Nolan leans toward the window and whispers conspiratorially. "To tell you the truth, my girlfriend is a martial arts expert. And if she found out I even looked at another woman, I might never feel anything again." John hands her the ticket. "So take care of those tags as soon as you can and have a good day."

"She didn't have any open warrants, but she has three convictions for solicitation," Harper reports when John returns to the car.

John slides behind the wheel. "She almost earned another one. But at least she didn't pull a gun on me."

Harper rolls her eyes. "Just try to keep yours holstered for the rest of the day. Let's go."

Nolan is almost settled back into routine patrol when he spots a figure waving from the curb up ahead. "Someone wants our attention. I think it's one of the students from my ethics class." Nolan pulls up, and he and Harper get out of the shop. "What's going on, Brian?"

"John, I'm glad it was you. I'm not sure any other cop would care. I was taking a run, and one of the guys I usually meet on the path was there. But he was slow, and he looked bruised up. So I asked him what happened, and he told me the brother of the girl he's dating did it."

"Why didn't he call the police?" John asks.

"Because the guy who attacked him is a cop."

Nolan and Harper look at each other. "Was the victim black?" Nolan asks.

Brian shakes his head. "If he was, I'd already be on the phone to Professor Ryan. But, John, he's even whiter than you."

"Don't go jumping to conclusions," Harper urges Nolan when they return to their shop. "Your pal's running buddy could have been lying about how he got hurt."

"I know," John acknowledges. "But I need to check it out."