It felt like he had been walking for hours but when he looked at his watch it had only been forty-five minutes. He still hadn't seen a building or any indication that the dirt road he was still on was well-travelled. And the only sounds he could hear were the morning calls of the many different and noisy birds that seemed to inhabit this part of the state, birds he never heard in The City. Under other circumstances, he would've enjoyed them.
The events of the night kept playing over and over in his mind. And he tried to think if there was any indication, any hint that Nicole had inserted herself back into his life months ago and had been trackng his every move.
He had been so gun-shy after she had disappeared a year ago, having seemingly satiated her need to torture him by making his life, and his partner's, a living nightmare. Mike had borne the brunt of her rage, but she had stopped short of actually causing him physical harm. Sometime between then and now that restraint had obviously disappeared, with a vengeance.
And now, because of one person's warped sense of personal affront, Linda was dead and Mike was seriously, if not critically, injured, perhaps even fighting for his life, despite Nicole's assurances to the contrary. And he had been framed - meticulously and expertly set-up as the fall guy in an intricate plan that had been in the works for almost a year.
So, as he put one foot automatically in front of the other, he had no idea how he was going to prove he was innocent.
# # # # #
Healey stepped into the doorway of the centre office. It was completely empty; not even a desk or a chair had been left behind, it seemed. There were a few shards of word on the linoleum floor and he bent down to pick one up to give it a closer look. It seemed like the same wood the pallets were made of; he had noticed a bunch of them stacked against one of the walls. He frowned; it was odd that there was pallet wood in the office but that could've happened when the building was emptied.
With a shrug, he dropped the piece of wood back on the floor.
# # # # #
Haseejian was standing over a 45-gallon drum just outside one of the open garage doors. A patrolmen, following the smell of burning wood, had found the still smouldering barrel. Whatever was inside was now completely charred and the drum was still too hot to be emptied and examined. It was impossible to tell what had been burning, but the fact that it was still fresh told them it must have something to do with what had transpired within the concrete walls of the garage. Forensics would have to take it back to the lab.
# # # # #
Devitt was heading towards North Beach, to the address listed on Linda's driver's license. If she had a roommate, then he would be able to track down her family. Healey and Haseejian had mentioned they thought her parents owned a restaurant in Chinatown but they didn't know which one or even what street it was on.
There was a large knot in the pit of his stomach. He was going to deliver the most devastating news that any parent could ever receive, that their child had been murdered. And he would witness in their faces the soul-ripping realization that they would never see their child grow older, never hear their voice, never see their smile, ever again.
He was about to change lives, and not for the better. It was the part of the job he hated, but the part he knew was, in many ways, the most important. And his compassion and empathy were acknowledged and respected by both his colleagues and the people whose lives he touched during the most shattering time of their lives.
# # # # #
"Sergeant!"
Both Healey and Haseejian looked in the direction of the shout. The overhead lights still hadn't been turned on. Although the sun was up and the garage doors were open, cruisers with their highbeams on helping illuminate the huge building, it was still very dark in many places, especially in the corners and down in the pits.
The call had come from one of the pits near the garage door on the far right. A uniformed officer was kneeling in one of the corners and he looked up when they appeared above him. He took a step back then played his flashlight beam over an object lying on the floor near the corner. It was a blood-covered knife.
Healey exhaled loudly and nodded. "Good work. We'll send one of the techs over to bag it then I want you to get it downtown asap." He glanced sideways at his partner. "So, do you think it was dropped or deliberately placed there?"
Haseejian shrugged. "At this moment, I have no idea. You?"
The Irish detective inhaled deeply. "I'm beginning to think that nothing here is exactly what it seems."
The other man chuckled dryly. "I'm beginning to think you're right."
# # # # #
There was another bend in the road up ahead and he strode towards it with his head down. He still hadn't heard any sounds to tell him he was near a highway, or even a road with any kind of morning traffic, although it might still be a little early for that. He was beginning to wonder just how far he was going to have to walk. Still, he was conflicted. Getting back to civilization meant he had to finally decide exactly what he was going to do, although he knew in his heart that it really wasn't much of a decision anyway. No matter how he was received, he had to be with his partner, had to begin to make amends, once more, for the grief and pain he had inadvertently brought into his best friend's life. And he had to be there for Linda's family…
The road began to turn and he had just sidestepped a large pothole when a flash of bright light, like the sun's reflection off metal, caught his attention. He froze, staring at a large bush on his right, then moved forward cautiously, frowning. Something red could be seen through the bright green leaves and as he got closer he recognized the distinctive taillight of an LTD.
He froze, his right hand snapping automatically to the grip of his .38 as he moved closer to the very familiar car. It didn't look like it had been in an accident or involuntarily run off the road; it looked like it had been deliberately parked. Slipping the revolver out of the leather holster, he slowly circled the large sedan to the driver's side door, his trained eyes taking in everything. At first glance, the car looked empty, but he knew very well he couldn't trust Nicole to do anything without some kind of trick involved.
The windows were up and he looked through the driver's side without touching the glass. Everything looked normal. He reached for the handle then stopped, his cop's instinct telling him not to tamper with the evidence. Then his common sense took over. She had been wearing latex gloves the entire time so the chances of her leaving a viable fingerprint were next to none.
Weighing his options, which were stacked on the side of him taking the car, he opened the door and slid in behind the wheel, hoping she'd had the chutzpah to leave the keys in the ignition.
She had.
Inhaling deeply and closing his eyes, he gripped the top of the steering wheel with both hands and rested his forehead on them, releasing his breath gradually as he attempted to slow his pounding heart. Then, gritting his teeth in determination, he raised his head, turned the key to start the engine, and backed the unmarked police car out of the copse.
Trying, for the moment, not to think of what awaited him when he got back to The City, he guided the large sedan slowly along the uneven dirt road.
# # # # #
No one had answered the door at Linda Zhao's apartment in North Beach, but neighbours had been able to tell Captain Devitt that her parents owned the Fuliwah Restaurant in Chinatown, and that their English was very spotty. After a call in to Dispatch for the address, he was now on his way downtown; dim sum would start at 10, so chances were the restaurant kitchen was already in full swing.
As he got closer to his destination, he radioed in again with the request that one of the foot patrolmen for whom Chinatown was a beat to meet him outside the restaurant. He needed to make sure that Linda's parents understood everything he was about to tell them.
# # # # #
Rudy Olsen made his way out of the Emergency entrance, fishing the keys out of his pocket as he crossed the parking lot to his car. Though he hadn't been able to see his injured lieutenant, he had been assured that Mike was doing as well as could be expected and that his daughter would be able to spend time with him when she arrived later that day.
He looked at his watch. He had already made the call to his friend in the Tucson Police Department and the TPD lieutenant was on his way to Jeannie Stone's apartment to tell her what had happened and escort her to the airport. Her flight, still to be booked, would have go through L.A. before arriving in San Francisco; the earliest she would be home was just before dinnertime.
Taking a deep breath, Olsen opened the driver's door and slid in behind the wheel. As he started the car, his frown got even deeper. 'Where the hell was Steve?' he wondered for umpteenth time. Had something happened to him as well? Was he another victim or, as some he knew were already speculating, was he more involved in what had happened to his partner and his girlfriend than just an unfortunate dupe?
# # # # #
He had finally made it to the end of the dirt road and made the turn onto what was a dual paved carriageway. He had remembered which directions they had turned, but he had no idea how far they had driven on each of the roads they had travelled. If there were no signs, it was going to be a matter of hit or miss before he could find his way back to the highway.
And he also knew that the longer it took him to return to The City, the harder it was going to be for him to rationalize his absence, especially in light of what had occurred. Mike would be in the hospital, Jeannie more than likely on her way home. Linda's parents would have been notified and her family starting to deal with their enormous loss and inconsolable grief. They would have found things in the garage, no doubt, that would point to his culpability in all this: fingerprints on a knife, no doubt and, if the bullet had been recovered, Ballistics would have made the match.
The knuckles gripping the steering wheel turned white and he gritted his teeth. The noose Nicole had slipped over his head the day he met her was now tighter than it had ever been and, for the first time since this entire ordeal had begun, he could see no way out of it.
His vision blurred and he blinked quickly to dispel the tears as he tried not to think and just concentrate on his driving. He was only nominally successful.
# # # # #
With a heavy sigh, Healey dropped the mic on the front seat then put both forearms on the roof of the dark green Galaxie and dropped his head. He looked over his shoulder when he heard footsteps approaching. Haseejian was staring at him with raised eyebrows.
Healey straightened up and turned to face his partner. "That was the lab. They got some good fingerprints off that knife," he offered quietly.
"And…?"
The Irish sergeant looked away briefly, taking a deep breath. "They were Steve's…"
