Expert Witness (34 page)

“That kind of thing can really get under your skin,” Liz commiserated. “The investigation, not your wife.”

Hagarty smiled at the qualification.

“It wasn’t the investigation that nearly screwed me, it was my ego. My wife had to cut me down to size real fast, or I would have been telling the same story every night at the local bar, resting on some rotting laurels, and been divorced. Thank God I married a smart woman.”

“But you understand what I was doing,” Liz interrupted, taking her last shot.

“Sure, I get it,” Hagarty answered.

“Great. Good. Okay, then I’ll get to the hospital. I want to see if I can talk to Hernandez. ”

Hagarty stopped her. “No, you won’t. Los Angeles is sending an officer.”

“But Hernandez is mine,” Liz insisted.

“No, he isn’t,” Hagarty answered. “He never was.”

“But you said you knew what it was like. You just told me.”

“The difference is, Liz, that case was mine. I had the blessing of my captain. Now I’m captain, and it’s my job to run my department. You had your orders, you chose to ignore them, and people got hurt. One of those people is the guy who could tell you where those women are.”

“That’s why I want to see this through. I’ve got to make amends,” Liz pleaded.

“What’s done is done, Driscoll. It’s over.”

“You’re firing me?”

Hagarty shook his head, “It’s not that easy. But I like the book, Liz, and the book says you were insubordinate. I want your badge and your gun.”

“Aw, come on, Captain,” Liz lamented. Her thumbs unhooked from that belt of hers. Her arms rose and fell, her head swung right and left. Those pretty eyebrows of hers pulled together in frustration.  “Come on. I’ve towed the line ever since you hired me. Give me a break. Just one.”

Hagarty pushed off the wall. His hands were out of his pockets. Memory lane was being left behind.

“Tomorrow you will collect anything in your office apropos to this case. You will messenger it all to Arnson and Levinsky. You will leave your badge and your weapon in my office, and you will stand down until I have a chance to review the situation. Until then, you’re on paid leave.”

Liz started to object, but Hagarty was quick with a raised hand and a warning.

“The next words out of your mouth better be thank you. If not, I would suggest you do not speak and do as you’re told. Do it quietly, Driscoll.”

Liz fell back a step and closed her mouth. He was right. She egged his house and he was still offering her the last treat in his candy bowl. 

“Seal this place, advise the manager that Arnson’s people will be down here to take possession, and then go home. Am I understood?”

“Yes,” Liz mumbled. As he walked past she reached for him. He paused and looked at her. “I am sorry, Captain. Really.”

“So am I,” he said sadly, and then he was gone.

Liz stood in the glare of the bare light listening to nothing, staring after her boss, hating herself and wondering if two women were going to die because she was a screw up. She took one huge breath, and then another one to keep from crying. When that didn’t do the trick, Liz Driscoll hung her head, swiped at her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose. Finally, she pulled up, and took another look around. There were a million questions running through her brain, not the least of which was who was helping Hernandez? Arnson would be the one to find out, not her. Fingerprints, trace evidence, there was so much that could be recovered in here. All she really needed was to find out who rented that unit. She picked up Xavier’s book and absentmindedly started to fan the pages when she heard:

“Hey.” Benny was back and ready to rule the roost.

“What?” Liz snapped but her edge was gone, she sounded whiney.

“Your boss says you’re not supposed to be here.”

Liz narrowed her eyes. Benny was starting to really annoy her.

“Give me a minute.”

Even Hagarty had cut her some slack. He could have taken her badge then and there and he didn’t, so good old Benny was going to toe the respect line, too.

“I’m going to time you,” Benny threatened. “One minute.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered.

Liz fanned the pages so that they ruffled loudly. She hoped it irked him. She was about to do it again when her eye caught something.  Quickly, she turned to the inside cover. There were three phone numbers listed in Hernandez’s distinctive printing. Next to one was a happy face. Printing and avatars, just like the list found in Bates’ car and Young’s, too.

“Thirty seconds!” Benny yelled from outside.

Liz made a face, ignored the weird feeling that was crawling up her spine and grabbed her phone. Fast as she could, she snapped a picture of the phone numbers written on the flyleaf. She was about to put the book back where she found it when a red-faced Benny ripped it out of her hands.

“Hey.”

He fell back slightly when Liz turned on him, but managed to stand his ground.

“Do you think I’m stupid?  I saw you pick it up here. Right here. Captain Hagarty said to leave everything the way it was.” Benny stomped over to the bed and put the book back exactly where Liz had found it.

“Yeah, and now your prints are all over it, and that’s proof that you knew what was going on here. I’m going to have the LAPD look at you real close, Benny.”

Liz made her ridiculous threat hoping the man would fall apart, but all she did was make a dent in his outrage. He cocked his head and tried to look imposing, but a man in a cheap, short-sleeved dress shirt couldn’t pull it off.

“I have to lock up. Now.”

“You’re an upstanding citizen, Benny.”

Liz gave him a tight-lipped smile, walked out of the unit into the hot night, and got back in her car. Instead of starting it, she took out her phone, and dialed the first number she had photographed. She got a canned message. Liz hung up without leaving a message of her own because she didn’t know who was on the other end. She dialed the second number. This time, she got Daniel Young’s office, and that really didn’t surprise her all that much. Xavier had obviously been making plans. This time she left a message.

“Daniel, it’s Driscoll. Xavier Hernandez is in the hospital. You can breathe easy for now. Call me as soon as you get this.”

Liz called Daniel’s cell and left the same message. There was no urgency now. Xavier was the catalyst and he had been taken out. Even if Xavier had someone helping him, the plan would be in disarray. She would leave Isaiah and the others on the list to Levinsky and Arnson, but Liz had a weird soft spot for Daniel. Maybe it was because, behind his bravado, Daniel was just like her. Neither of them would ever be the really cool kids on the block.

Liz dialed the third number and got a pizza parlor. She hung up just as Benny walked by. She got out of the car and followed him into the office. The T.V. was off; Benny was packing up to go home. He was not amused when he saw her.

“I just wanted to apologize,” she offered her best girl-smile.

“Sure you do,” Benny mumbled.

“No, really. I know we put you in a tight spot, but it was for a good reason.”

Benny slammed a magazine into his pack.

“Okay. Apology accepted.”

“Great. Then have a good one,” Liz said just before her finger went to her lips, and she looked back at him as if she had just thought of something. “Hey, one last question, Benny. Who actually did rent that unit? You know, the second one?”

Benny wasn’t having any of it. Fool him once but not twice.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” Benny grabbed his keep-things-cool lunch bag and walked past her. He slid open the door and Liz gave up. She couldn’t argue with a third grader.

“You could have been a hero, Benny.”

When the man didn’t yield, Liz left. She walked down the three little wooden steps, got back into her car, adjusted the air-conditioning and pulled out of the lot slowly just to make Benny mad. She made a right, bumped over the railroad tracks, and took note of a couple of burned out flares her compatriots had left.

The only good thing now was that she still had her badge, her weapon and a lot of hours before she had to turn them in.

An Outbuilding in the California Mountains

“We’ll play a game. I have prizes.”

His whispered words were crystal clear, and Josie hung on every one hoping to identify his voice. It could have been Xavier Hernandez, but it had been ten years since that trial and even then he had only spoken when necessary. He didn’t haunt her memory, she didn’t dream about him. She never thought of that trial once it was finished. And now? Now she was nearly out of her mind with exhaustion, hunger and thirst. For all Josie knew, she might be hallucinating. Even if she was, being engaged in something was preferable to wallowing in the despair that had settled over her and Erika.

“What kind of game, Xavier?” Josie asked.

“Savior? That is funny.” He chuckled. “Yes, call me Savior.”

“Savior, let us out please.” Erika called out, eager to please.

Josie reached for her and took her hand. She squeezed it in a gesture of solidarity. They waited like schoolgirls hoping to be released from detention. Finally, the answer came.

“No.”

“What do you want?” Erika asked.

“To make you sorry,”

“For what, you sick bastard?” Josie demanded. She was about to raise her voice again when Erika yanked on her arm. Josie clamped her lips together. Erika was right. They were in no position to fight. She tried again and modulated her voice. “We never hurt you.”

“You did.”

He sounded like a man delighted with his performance in bed even though his partner lay cold beneath him.

“I’m sorry,” Erika offered. “We’re sorry.”

“Tell me for what?”

He was hugging the outside wall, slithering closer to the opening. Josie’s skin crawled and her eyes were riveted on the opening. Soon he would be able to look down on them. Out there the landscape was different somehow, because it gave him an advantage they didn’t have. She hated that advantage. Look her in the eye, that’s all she wanted. Don’t show a face covered with glasses; don’t shine a blinding light obscuring your face. Just level the damn playing field. That she could deal with. Suddenly, something scraped against the cement and the women jumped.

“He has a knife,” Josie said. “He killed Janey with a knife.”

Indeed, he was dragging something metal across the wall; dragging it right up to their little window.  He stopped and started again. Erika looked left. He had changed positions and was dragging it along the shorter wall. The women pulled closer to one another. Josie wrapped her arms around Erika Gardener who had begun to tremble. ‘Round and ‘round he went making that horrid sound. And, as he passed under the little window, he pushed through a piece of paper.

It fluttered to Erika. She caught it, but it was too dark to see what was on it. Josie put her chin atop Erika’s bowed head and listened. He was going faster now, almost running as he giggled and dragged the metal. On the second pass, he dropped something else through. Erika picked that paper up, too.

“We’re sorry for making you do this,” Erika said as she held the paper up for Josie to touch. It was slick and oblong. Photographs.

“That is a stupid thing to say.”

He chuckled and dragged the sharp thing over the bricks three times right under the window. Back and forth and back it went as if he were honing the edge of a carving knife.

Suddenly, Erika relaxed and shook off Josie’s embrace. Something had changed. Erika got to her knees. When she spoke again, it was with wary exhilaration. She knew something, but it was clear she wanted to be sure.

“I’m sorry for what I did. I don’t know what Josie did, but I was cruel. I should have seen how much I meant to you.”

Rising to her feet, she touched the top of Josie’s head. It was a triumphant little gesture that gave Josie hope.

“And what did you do?” The man asked. 

Erika said, “I didn’t believe in you.”

The knife crisscrossed over the cement in an angry, ugly, frenetic trail.

“Josie Bates? Confess, bitch.”

Scritch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch. He was moving upward, standing on whatever allowed him to reach the opening, but Josie wasn’t paying attention. Erika’s lips were on her ear. Josie leaned closer to hear.

“I know who it is,” she whispered and then she kissed the lobe of Josie’s ear. “I can get us out of here.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT:

Torrance Memorial Hospital, Torrance