Tom Dayton is Loose Again
Chapter 9
1
The ringing of the clock beside Tom Dayton's bed woke him up at 6:00 in the morning. Reaching over, Dayton shut it off. When he got the chance, he was going to go to a store and buy one with a snooze mode. This one forced him to get up immediately. Being late to fix Ironside's breakfast was not an option. The detective definitely wasn't the type to be very forgiving regarding tardiness, especially when his breakfast was involved.
Tom threw the covers back. Looking around the room, he wondered why he thought things were so bad. After all, this was certainly better than being in the institution. Ironside seemed to be accepting him little by little. He even thanked him the previous night for his help. Tom wasn't sure why Ironside had him look at the police sketch. Why would he know the police officer? Right now, the only ones he knew were the ones in this office. Maybe he was only trying to include Tom as a member of his staff.
Sitting on the side of the bed, he wondered why he didn't take Ironside up on going out on the town last night. He hadn't been out of the office since he started working for Ironside, or had he? Everything seemed sort of fuzzy. Had he gone out last night? No, he told Ironside he was tired and was going to read for a while. He hadn't gone anywhere. All he remembered was he developed a terrible headache. They seemed to come on him more and more. Even the pain killer Mark had given him didn't seem to help much.
Mark Sanger . . . now there was a stand-up guy. Sanger was going out of his way to help him, and Tom appreciated it. Getting use to Ironside's moods and sarcasm wasn't easy. The detective was moody, and Tom didn't know how to figure out his moods from one minute to the next. Then again, if Sanger was able to do it, there wasn't any reason he couldn't. Ed Brown was decent to him despite knowing Tom was responsible for the death of his girlfriend. Dayton tried to think back about how that happened. Rubbing his temples, he tried hard to bring the incident back to him, but was unable to. Had he attacked the woman that was his boss? No, that wasn't part of his personality. He admitted he didn't like having a woman boss, but he would never hurt a woman.
Why had he been sent to an institution? What had he done to deserve it? Tom tried harder to understand why, but it just wouldn't come to him. Well, the important thing was that he make every effort to please Ironside. That meant working hard and taking his job seriously. Police work was growing on him and he hadn't been working for Ironside that long. The sketch Brown brought back to the office should help. He didn't recognize the man in it, nor did anyone else in the office. Why would a police officer kill a woman he met in a bar. It just didn't make sense to him.
Tom stood up and headed to the shower. He was actually looking forward to going to work. He even was going to make an effort to get along with Eve Whitfield. There wasn't any reason for the two of them not to get along. After all, they worked together.
After completing his shower, shaving, and dressing, he was ready to head into Ironside's office and make his breakfast. Remembering that Mark said the chief was not fond of eggs, but ate them if served, Tom still didn't feel comfortable feeding them to him. He would make him biscuits and gravy. What man didn't like biscuits and gravy? Mark also taught him how to make the chief's coffee so he wouldn't complain about it. That particular task didn't seem to be Sanger's forte since Ironside was always complaining about the coffee. Maybe he better try and make it his way and see if Ironside liked it. If not, well, then it would be back to the old drawing board.
Tom headed into the chief's office. Just before entering, he looked at his watch. It was 7:30 a.m. That gave him plenty of time to make breakfast and give Ironside time to eat it before Brown and Whitfield reported for work. He opened the door and entered. Sanger was already up and in the kitchen. The coffee was on. Tom went directly into the kitchen.
"Good morning," Tom said to Mark.
Mark turned to see Dayton standing there. "I made the coffee for you. Breakfast is up to you."
"I thought I would make the chief biscuits and gravy, unless he doesn't like it," Tom said.
"He likes it all right. In fact, he loves it. Just don't make it too often. Among your other jobs is to keep track of the chief's waistline. Otherwise, his doctor will be complaining. If he is after the chief about his weight, then the chief will be after you about cooking with too much fat in his diet."
Tom looked down. "This is a lot more complicated than I thought it was going to be."
Mark chuckled. "You'll get use to it. You are doing just fine. The chief hasn't thrown you out of the office yet."
Tom smiled and set out to make breakfast for his new boss. "Do I make enough for everyone?"
"No, just the three of us. Just have enough in reserve in case the commissioner stops by. The chief likes to feed him breakfast to soften him up for whatever he is trying to get out of him."
Dayton was silent for a moment. He looked up at Sanger. "Listen, Mark, I want to thank you for all the help and advice you have been giving me. I really do want to do a good job."
"Just remember not to take the chief personally. He growls, stammers and roars, but he is not really doing it at us, just the circumstances. And remember, he is very loyal. You do a good job here, and he will go out of his way to help you when you are ready to move on."
"Thanks, Mark. I'll remember that."
Tom cringed and touched his forehead. Mark thought it looked like he was in pain. "Are you all right?" he asked Dayton.
Tom removed his hand from his head and smiled. "I'm fine." Turning his back on Sanger, he went to work making breakfast.
Breakfast was on the table by the time Ironside showered, shaved and wheeled up to the table. He looked at the gravy in the bowl and grinned. Biscuits and gravy! Removing two biscuits from the plate, he poured the gravy over them. "Which one of you made it?"
Meekly, Dayton answered, "I did, but Mark helped me make it the way you like it."
"Just don't pay any attention to the way he makes coffee," Ironside said.
"You never had any problem drinking it down," Mark quipped. "The amount of coffee consumed in this office keeps Maxwell House in business."
Tom chuckled. He turned when he heard the door to the office open. Ed Brown hurried down the ramp and headed straight for Ironside. The chief could tell something was wrong. Brown had a grave look on his face.
"What is it Ed? What's wrong?"
"There's been another murder. A woman was found with her throat slit."
"Where?" Ironside asked.
Ed looked as if he didn't want to answer his boss, but finally said, "Right down the street from Eve's apartment. She called me just as I was entering the building. She thought you might want in on this one."
"Well, other than it was down the street from Eve's apartment, why would we get involved?" Ironside said.
"Chief, there was a police officer in the vicinity just before the murder took place."
Ironside felt the knot in his stomach. Did they have a serial killer on the loose? And was he a police officer? The sketch had yielded no results. Every precinct had reported back, and none of them stated the sketch looked like any of their officers.
"Let's go," Ironside said. "Tom, you're driving. Mark, clean this up, please."
Sanger watched them go out the door. He wasn't used to being left behind. He missed being the chief's driver. He enjoyed going to the scenes of crimes with him. He might as well get started. The dishes weren't going to wash themselves.
2
With the sun beating down on the van as Dayton drove the vehicle through the streets of San Francisco, the air conditioning was turned on high to keep the vehicle cool. Following Ironside's instructions, Tom maneuvered the van through traffic, careful to keep the speed within the limits of the posted signs.
"This is a police vehicle, Mr Dayton. My Aunt Victoria drives faster than this," Ironside said sarcastically.
Dayton pressed the accelerator down, picking up the speed of the van. With every turn, he became more anxious. The area was beginning to look familiar. Yet, Tom couldn't remember ever having been anywhere near it. Ironside continued to direct him through San Francisco until they were just down the block from Eve's apartment. Dayton pulled the vehicle to a stop. Ironside was already in the lift which was lowering his wheelchair to the pavement. Tom got out of the vehicle, along with Sergeant Brown. They followed their boss over to where Eve Whitfield was conversing with Officer Duffy.
"What have we got?" Ironside asked them.
"She was found by a woman walking her dog. When she saw the amount of blood, she called the police. Officer Duffy was the first on the scene," Eve told him. "I was headed to work, saw Duffy, and decided to stop to see what was going on."
"Her throat was slit, Chief. She bled out," Duffy said.
"Witnesses?" Ironside asked.
"You're not going to like it, but yes. There was one, at least she's a possible witness. She said there was a police officer in the area. She spoke to him. According to her, he seemed extremely nervous, disoriented, and when she spoke to him, he was nasty to her."
"Where is she?"
Duffy got the attention of another officer. He motioned for the officer to bring the woman over to him. He did so immediately.
"My name is Robert Ironside. I've been told that you saw a police officer in the area around the time this murder took place."
The woman brushed back the bangs of her gray hair. She was dressed shabbily and smelled of body odor. Ironside figured she was probably homeless. He couldn't help but wonder what she was doing in such a ritzy area. After all, Eve lived in one of the most expensive areas in the city.
"Yes. He seemed upset and disoriented. I'm not sure he even knew where he was. He was holding a hand to his temple as if something was wrong. When I spoke to him, I asked him if he was all right. He got nasty with me and told me he was fine; told me to go about my business."
"Can you describe him?" Ironside asked.
"Not really. It was dark. He had a hat on and it was pulled low over his forehead. I really didn't see his face. About all I can tell you is he was about 5'10" and of medium build. I am sorry, Chief Ironside, but that is about all I know. I left immediately when he got nasty. I didn't look back."
"Duffy, make sure we have her statement and then let her go," Ironside told his officer.
He wheeled over to where the body was lying. He looked up at Eve Whitfield and asked, "I suppose you didn't hear anything last night?"
"Sorry, Chief. Nothing. I went to bed early last night as I was exhausted. I slept through the night without waking up. I didn't hear a thing," she answered.
"Okay. I want the autopsy done immediately. If there's any DNA we can pick up off of the body, I want to know immediately."
"Chief," Ed said, "I don't think this is a police officer. I think it is somebody posing as one."
"Tell that to the press, Ed. As soon as they get wind of this, they are going to have a field day. This is going to affect the police department adversely regardless of whether it is a cop doing the killing or not."
"We may have a serial killer on our hands," Eve said. She looked around to see where Tom Dayton was standing. He was far enough away from them that she figured he wouldn't be able to hear her next question. "I don't want to make any accusations, but do we know where Tom was last night?"
"I gave him the option of going out last night," Ironside answered, "but he declined. He stayed in. To be on the safe side, when we get back to the office, check the records on the elevator. Make sure he didn't leave. I didn't sleep well. I would have heard the elevator if he had taken it. Check it anyway just in case I didn't hear it."
"What about the stairway?" Eve asked. "Could he go down the stairs? You wouldn't hear him if he did."
Ironside shook his head. "No, there is a code on that door. He doesn't have that code. I have kept that one hidden. He has to use the elevator to go out."
"Why don't we change the code just to be sure?" Eve said.
"It certainly wouldn't hurt," Ed agreed.
"All right, we will change the code. Eve, you take Tom back to the office. Have him start lunch. While he is in the kitchen doing that, go into the computer. There is a file under codes. The four digit code for the stairway door is there. Change that code. If he somehow found out what the code was, we'll know if he's leaving the building."
Whitfield immediately left Ironside. "All right, Ed. Let's get to work."
Tom Dayton wondered why Eve Whitfield kept looking back at him. They couldn't possibly think he had committed the murder, could they? He never left his room last night. He went straight to his room and went to bed. At least he thought he did. Maybe he read for a while, he couldn't remember. He decided not to worry about it since he knew he was in the clear. If he had left the building, the only way he could do it was by the elevator, and he knew that was coded.
Tom had done everything that was asked of him. He wondered when they were going to start trusting him. He only wanted to do a good job, convince Ironside that he was cured, and be allowed to go live on his own.
Eve Whitfield approached him. "Tom, the chief wants me to take you back to the office so you can get lunch started. We'll take my car."
"I don't understand. I'm his driver; shouldn't I wait here until he is finished?"
"Are you questioning Chief Ironside's judgment? He said you were to go back to the office and that is the way it is going to be," Eve said in a harsh tone.
Tom didn't understand why she was so hard on him. He was trying very hard. How could he possibly convince her that he had no problem with women bosses. "Okay, Officer Whitfield. I was just asking."
"I would suggest you stop questioning the Chief's orders and follow them."
What was wrong with the woman? Why was she being so nasty. The pain in his temple was starting to pound. He reached up and rubbed it. He blinked several times, then closed his eyes. When he opened him, the female cop was still standing there. Why was it every time he was around the woman, he developed a headache? How he hated working for women. They were all the same. They were on his back constantly. Eve Whitfield was no different. If he thought he could get away with it, he'd smash his fist right into her face.
Dayton followed her to her car. He got into the passenger seat, buckled his seat belt, and said nothing further. Tom was fuming. He was really sick of this woman. It didn't matter how he did his job, she was always going to ride him. Someday, when he got a chance . . . he was going to teach her that she could not push him around.
Officer Whitfield drove her car back to the office. She pulled into the police garage and parked next to the spot that was marked for Chief Ironside's van.
Dayton kept quiet the entire ride back to the office for fear of upsetting the woman police officer. When they arrived at the elevator, Eve stood there without moving.
"Are we waiting for something?" Tom asked her.
"I was waiting for you to put the code into the elevator."
"I don't have the code for the elevator." Figuring that was a test, he waited for her to input the number. After she did, the doors opened and the two of them got on the elevator.
"Officer Whitfield, I think we got off on the wrong foot. If I have offended you in any way, I apologize," Dayton said.
"Just you do your job and there will be no problem," she snapped back at him. Eve didn't care for the role that the chief was having her play. She supposed it was necessary to make sure that Dayton could actually handle female authority. They certainly did not want a repeat of the attack on the female librarian that put him back in the mental institution.
They entered the office and Eve went straight to the computer. She went into the file that Ironside had instructed her to do. In checking, there wasn't any indication that the stairway door had been used. The code had not been entered. Eve was unaware that the technician that set it up did not flip the switch which would record someone using that door, as it was rarely used. Everyone used the elevator.
She changed the four-digit code and shut the computer down. Turning to Tom, she informed him, "I'm going to do some checking on the victim. I suggest you get lunch ready for the chief."
Tom watched as she left the room. His curiosity got the better of him. He had to know what she was doing in the computer. Obviously, waiting for him to put the code into the elevator was a trap to see if he knew it. It didn't make any sense to him, as he assumed it was being recorded. It was the first time that it dawned on him that they could be recording the stairway door as well. Then again, if they had been doing that, Ironside would already have reprimanded him.
Tom called out for Mark. He didn't want to touch the computer if Mark was in the office. He received no answer. Dayton went into Mark's room. He was not there. He walked around the office checking every room to make sure he was alone. When he was convinced that he was the only one in the office, he went over to the computer. He booted it back up and signed in. Tom memorized the sign in that was given to him by the police officer downstairs. He began checking the files and found a file for the code on the stairway door. He rubbed his temples as his headache was once again throbbing. Eve Whitfield was the cause for the headache. Why did he have to have a woman ordering him around? Women were always on his back about something. Tom found the file he was looking for and memorized the new code for the stairway door. Checking a little further, he noticed that the system was not recording his departure when he left by the stairs. He breathed a sigh of relief knowing Ironside didn't know of his activities. Tom would keep track to make sure that the use of the code on the stairway door was not being recorded. He didn't see any reason why they would be checking into it since no one seemed to use the stairway anyway.
He would have to be careful to be sure Ironside or one of his staff members didn't suspect him of leaving the building. It was most important that he didn't get caught. Ironside wasn't going to keep him locked up in this prison. Tom wasn't about to allow it.
Now that he had the knew code, he went into the kitchen to fix the detective some lunch. Since he didn't know whether Mark would be returning to the office, he would also fix lunch for him to be on the safe side.
He continued rubbing his temples. The headache was becoming unbearable. Tom reached for the Tylenol that was in the cupboard. He pulled out three tablets and washed them down with a glass of water.
He was getting sick of this office. As soon as Ironside retired for the night, he was going to get out on the town again. That police uniform made it possible. If anybody saw him, they would think he was a cop and he would not have to justify what he was doing.
3
Eve Whitfield arrived at another costume shop. The first two did not rent out a police uniform. It was left up to her to check the costume shops as Ed was tied up with the chief at the scene of the murder.
She got out of her vehicle and went into the shop. Looking around, it looked no different than the previous two shops she had been in. There were costumes everywhere. She roamed around looking for a police uniform. When she located one, she was surprised how much it looked just like the uniforms that the San Francisco police officers wore. It could easily fool somebody on the street, or in a bar.
"Can I help you Miss?" The man behind the counter said.
Eve turned around at the sound of his voice. She walked over to the counter, reached into her purse, and pulled out her badge. "I'm Officer Whitfield from Chief Ironside's office."
"Yes, I thought you looked familiar. What can I do for you, Officer Whitfield?"
"We are working on a case. Someone has been posing in a police officer's uniform." She wasn't exactly sure that was true. They had not ruled out an actual police officer despite the fact that no precinct could identify the sketch. It could simply mean the bartender wasn't very good describing people, or that he really didn't take a good look at the man.
"All right, I'll do what I can to help you. What would you like to know?"
"In the past week, has anyone rented a police uniform for a party, or for any other reason?"
"Well, I am not here all of the time. I leave the shop to my employees quite often because they are very dependable. However, every rental is recorded in a journal. It is the only way we can keep track of who has the rentals, and that they are returned in a timely manner."
He reached under the counter and pulled out a very thick book. "This goes back 3 years. If you need to go back further than that, I will have to go in the back and get past journals."
"No, that won't be necessary. This would have been done within the last week."
The clerk opened the journal, and using his index finger, began following the names down the list. "You said the past week, didn't you?"
"Yes. That should be far enough," Eve said.
He continued going down the list. When he finished, he said, "There only two times a police uniform was rented."
"I would like the names and addresses of those two individuals," Eve requested.
The clerk picked up a tablet and wrote down the two men who rented the uniforms. After tearing the sheet from the rest of the tablet, he gave it to Eve. "Those are the only two people who rented police uniforms."
"Do you remember anything about them? Can you describe either one of them?"
"Not really. This shop is very busy. A lot of people come in here and rent costumes. I can't remember everyone that does, let alone remember which one of them rented police uniforms. You have the information, Officer Whitfield. You will have to investigate it yourself, and find out if either one of them are who you are looking for."
Eve could hear the irritation in his voice. He was becoming impatience as if asking him to remember the individuals who rented the uniforms was unreasonable. She decided she had received all the information she was going to get from the clerk. "Thank you for your help." Eve left the shop. She would check out Roger Gardner and Cory Winters.
4
Robert Ironside and Ed Brown arrived back at Police Headquarters. They entered the elevator and rode up to the top floor. Ed opened the door to the office and the chief wheeled inside.
When Tom heard the door open, he came out of the kitchen to greet them. "I have lunch ready, Chief. I hope sandwiches will be all right."
"That's fine, Mr Dayton," Ironside said. "Did you make enough sandwiches for Ed and Eve?"
"No, but I can make more," Tom replied and headed back into the kitchen.
Ironside wheeled up to the table. Ed joined him. "Ed, I think we have to consider that we might have a serial killer on our hands."
"I was thinking the same thing. Since a man in a police uniform was seen at both the scenes, it is a definite possibility that either the killer is a police officer or someone parading around as one."
"Since none of the precincts could identify the man in the sketch, we are going to concentrate on a man posing as a police officer. Still, we are not going to assume that a police officer is not involved. We will keep checking on that possibility."
The door to the office opened and Eve Whitfield came in. She hurried over to the table and sat down. She pulled the paper out of her purse and set it down in front of Chief Ironside.
Ironside picked up the paper, read the names on it, and then looked at Eve. "I assume these are the names of two men who have rented police uniforms."
Eve looked disappointed. The chief didn't know she was going to check on the custom shops yet. He only told her to bring Tom back to the office. She supposed she should be used to the boss's ability to deduce, but sometimes she wondered if he really could read minds. "That's right, Chief. The first two shops were a bust. Neither had rented police uniforms. In fact, one of them didn't have any uniforms to rent in the first place. The third one rented two police uniforms in the past week, but only one coincides with one of the murders; the latest one. That uniform has not been returned yet. I could read the journal. It showed the date, item number, description, the date rented, and the date returned."
"Which one of these men rented the uniform that is still out there?" Ironside asked.
"Cory Winters. He rented it before the first murder and has not returned it yet."
"What about the other one?" Ironside pointed at the other name.
"He rented it before the second murder, but returned it early this morning."
"So either one of them could have been impersonating a police officer," Ed said.
"Yes," Eve answered. "But only one could have committed both murders with the uniforms rented."
Tom finished making the sandwiches. He realized his headache was gone. He wondered who could be committing the murders. Tom decided he was coming to enjoy working for Ironside. The work his officers did was very interesting. Was it possible for someone who had been treated in a mental institution to become a police officer? Although he doubted it, he would approach Chief Ironside and ask him later when they were alone. Dayton hadn't decided on a career of any kind so far. He went from one job to another. Basically, because of women bosses. That wasn't a problem now. He was well over that. There wasn't any doubt in his mind that he could take orders from a woman now. Just maybe his time in the institution wasn't a waste after all.
Tom didn't know if he should point out something or not. What the hell? All that could happened was Ironside could tell him to butt out. He decided to get in his two cents for whatever it was worth. "Chief, I was thinking. Just because Roger Gardner only rented the uniform before the second murder doesn't mean he couldn't have committed the first one. Maybe he rented it from a different costume shop."
Eve raised an eyebrow. "I hadn't thought of that. He's right, Chief, he could have rented a uniform from another costume shop. We haven't check them all."
"I was just about to say that," Ironside said. He turned and looked at Dayton. "Mr Dayton, hanging around police officers seems to be rubbing off on you."
Tom smiled. Ironside accepted his suggestion. He didn't reprimand him for speaking out. "Glad I could help, Chief."
"Eve, I want you and Ed to continue to check out every costume shop in San Francisco. Find out if Mr Dayton is correct."
"Yes, sir," Eve replied. She and Ed left the office after lunch to check the other costume shops in the city.
Tom began clearing the table of the dishes. With a hand full, he entered the kitchen and put them in the sink. Mark came up behind him and spoke over his shoulder. "Nice going, Tom. You impressed the chief with that suggestion that Roger Gardner could have rented a police uniform from another shop."
Dayton put the plug in the sink, added dish washing detergent, and began filling the sink with water. He turned and faced Mark. "It came to me when Officer Whitfield said Roger Gardner couldn't have committed the murder. He may not have rented the uniform until the second murder, but there isn't any proof yet that he didn't rent it from another shop. I wasn't sure the chief would like it if I entered into the conversation." He smiled. "I decided to give it a try anyway. I'm pleased he was okay with it."
"You know, we just might make a cop out of you yet," Mark said.
As Mark turned to walk away, Tom stopped him. "Mark, I was just wondering. Do they allow someone who has been in a mental institution who's been cured to become a police officer?"
"You aren't considering it, are you?" Sanger asked.
Dayton blushed, a little embarrassed Mark had easily guessed why he was asking. "No, I was just wondering that's all."
"Well, I am studying to be a lawyer and I have a police record. So, I guess it is possible, but if you really want an answer to that question, you should ask the chief. He would know," Mark told him.
Looking down, Tom said, "I was just wondering. I don't want to bother the chief with something I was just wondering about. He's too busy to be pestered with silly questions." Dayton turned away and began washing the dishes.
Mark stood there for a moment and then headed back to his room to study. He didn't have much else to do these days with Tom doing his job. Mark was impressed with how he was coming along. He thought the chief was too. Sanger disappeared into his room.
Late in the afternoon Eve and Ed returned to the office. Ironside turned his chair around to greet his officers. "Well, did he rent a police uniform anywhere else?"
Eve sat down beside her boss as Ed sat down on the other side. "Do you have any idea how many costume shops there are in San Francisco?" Eve asked as she kicked off her shoes to rub her feet. "My feet are killing me."
"You are the one who chooses to wear those expensive high heels, Officer Whitfield," Ironside growled. "Now, what did you find out?"
Ed answered before Eve got the chance. "So far, we have been to seven shops and none of them rented a police uniform to Roger Gardner. In fact, three out of the seven didn't even have police uniforms for rent. Only one rented out a police uniform. He was in the register with the name of Jack Tilden. The address is on the west side of the city."
"Did you check him out?" Ironside asked.
"Not yet," Ed said.
"Why not?"
Eve shook her head. "Because we were busy checking the costume shops. We'll check out all of the suspects tomorrow."
Ironside was about to order his officers to check them out tonight when he thought better of it. They needed rest. Both of them looked like they were ready to drop. He had been working them rather hard lately. The detective was torn though. There just might be a serial killer out there, and they needed to stop him. Still, he realized they wouldn't be as sharp if they were exhausted. They could miss crucial evidence if they weren't completely alert. "Go home, both of you. Check them out tomorrow. And check out the rest of the costume shops. Tom, you go home as well."
Tom stood up from the table where he had joined them. "Are you sure, Chief? Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"If there was, I'd tell you," he said gruffly.
"Yes, sir." Tom's voice was clearly much meeker than when he asked the question. It was obvious he was a bit intimidated by Ironside's demeanor. Dayton got up and walked out with Ed and Eve.
"You go ahead, Ed. I want to talk to Tom," Eve said. Ed pushed the button on the elevator and left the building when it arrived on the floor.
"What did you want to talk to me about?" Dayton asked.
"What happened at noon," Eve said. She really wasn't upset about it but the chief told her to be hard on Tom. "You stuck you nose into something that was none of your business. You made me look bad to the chief, and that is something I won't tolerate. Don't ever let it happen again, Mr Dayton, or you will regret it." Eve pushed the button on the elevator and rode it down to the police garage.
Tom's face was red. He was so angry, he couldn't think straight. He was tired of that bitch. Why couldn't she leave him alone? Chief Ironside was pleased with his input. Whitfield was just jealous because he thought of something she didn't. Dayton went into his room. Pacing back and forth, he became more angry, and then the headaches had started again.
Rubbing his temples, the pain was becoming unbearable. He had to get out of here. Ironside wasn't going to keep him prisoner in this damn building. He was going out on the town and Ironside had nothing to say about it! Tom was going to enjoy himself. He laid down on his bed, trying to ease the headache. He stayed there until midnight. Pulling the uniform out from underneath the bed, Tom removed his clothes and got dressed in the police uniform. He placed the cap on his head.
Opening the door slowly, Dayton checked the hall. He went down it and headed for the stairs. After punching the code into the lock, Tom headed down the stairs to a night of freedom from Ironside and especially the bitch.