your wife was murdered, sir!’ Maybe, Chief Burton, that way you could establish the fact that they “lost” something important!”
Chief Burton breathed an audible sigh. “Look, Miss Beloi, I know what you are feeling…”
Her voice shot out emphasizing the sharp crack of her hand on the table. The chief visibly jumped. “No, Chief Burton, you do not know how I feel. You cannot begin to know how I feel. And you don’t need to know. You don’t need to know what Anthony meant to me. You don’t deserve to know that. You don’t deserve to know that he was the finest brother anyone could have. The finest man I’ve ever known. But you already know that, don’t you, Chief? You know what kind of a man, a cop, Anthony was.”
The chief swallowed and leaned forward, the creases on his lined forehead knotted in deep crevices.
“Miss Beloi, I know you are upset. Can I get something for you, a glass of water, a cup of coffee? Maybe, it…would be better to have this conversation when you settle down…”
The words weren’t out of his mouth when the woman leapt to her feet. She planted her hands midway across the table, her face inches from his. Her voice shook with anger. “Don’t you dare patronize me.”
The men around the table looked down. The sounds of uneasy coughs, shuffling papers, and chairs scraping against linoleum, filled the heavy silence following her impassioned outcry.
Jake took this moment to move toward the table.
“Mind if I join you, Chief?”
Relief flooded the older man’s strained face. He met Jake’s eyes with a grateful nod and motioned to the chair at the end of the table.
“Please, Jake, have a seat.”
Several men in military uniform rose as Jake approached. He waved them down with a flick of his wrist.
He stood behind the chair at the end of the table and waited until he had the young woman’s attention. He nodded to her. “Special Agent Jake Gardner, Army CID. Please, ma’am, sit down.”
She glared at him, transferring her palpable anger from the relieved police chief to him. She raised her chin defiantly and straightened her slim shoulders.
“Why should I?”
Jake allowed a slight smile to cross his lips.
“For one thing, protocol demands that I stay standing as long as you do.” He added, his drawl deepening, “And because my Grandmother Winnie Mae would have my hide if I sat down before a lady did.”
Lexie glared at the tall dark haired man at the end of the table. The bars and scrambled egg insignia decorating his camouflage signified his status. She knew she was close to losing it. Her heart pounded and she struggled to breathe. Her legs were shaking, a combination of stress and rage. The sea of faces blurred. Only the man’s piercing blue eyes holding her gaze made any sense. She realized with a start that he would stand as long as she did. With a dismissive shrug, she sunk down in her chair, wondering incongruously if real people had grandmothers with names like Winnie Mae.
Refusing to acknowledge the concern that she saw in his eyes, she snapped, “Why are you here? What does CID have to do with my brother’s death? Didn’t the army get enough of him for eight years, sending him to every hellhole in the world? Now you need to be involved in his death, as well? Or do you need to write up one of your fancy reports so that the army can close one more troublesome file like Chief Burton is trying to do.”
She ignored the gasps from several of the younger military personnel and the chagrin tightening the chief’s face. Agent Gardner threw the chief a quick glance, frowning slightly. Lexie refused to look away when he turned his full attention to her. His easy smile and southern tinged drawl were noticeably absent when he replied.
“In answer to your question, Miss Beloi, I am here because Anthony’s body was found on the base. This means that even though he was an employee of the Yuma Police Department at the time of his death, the army is directly responsible for finding his killer. I assure you that no reports, fancy or otherwise, will be written, or files closed by the army or the YPD, until the person or persons responsible for his death are apprehended and punished.”
Lexie was startled. No one had told her they found Anthony on the base. She stared at Special Agent Gardner for a long moment, surprised that he called her brother by his first name. She decided she would deal with him later. For now, she wouldn’t let him take the heat off the unfortunate police chief. She knew that she was being rude, challenging, but she refused to let these men push her aside, not answer her questions. To relegate her to the bin of grieving family members begging for information that never came.
She opened her leather portfolio and removed a sheet of paper with the YPD logo inscribed on the top. Ignoring Special Agent Gardner, she shoved it across the table toward the chief.
“I assume you are the Chief John Burton who sent me this letter. The letter indicates once again that you are ‘sorry for my loss’ and goes on to say that to date you have no suspects or leads to the people who killed Anthony.”
The police chief’s ruddy face flushed a dangerous purple. He shook his head and rubbed his fists against his receding hairline.
“Look, Miss Beloi, I’ll admit, given the circumstances, that letter does seem ….
Lexie interrupted him with a fierce glare.
“Seems what, Chief? Not helpful? Dismissive? Thoughtless? But you didn’t let me finish reading. I was particularly interested in this last sentence.” She stopped and looked up at him and pointed to the letter her eyes flashing. “Here, where you say that ‘due to the lack of hard evidence, I do not expect to have additional information for you any time in the near future. Cordially, John Burton, Chief of Police, City of Yuma.’”
A hushed silence fell over the table. Lexie looked from to man, but none of them met her gaze. Rather they peered at the table or began leafing through their large folders. Agent Gardner’s crisp voice broke the silence. “May I please see the letter, John?”
The chief rubbed his beefy hand over his jaw and reluctantly handed the letter to Deputy Nick Thomas, who gave it to Agent Gardner.
Lexie ignored Agent Gardner’s dark study of the letter and focused on Chief Burton.
The chief raised his hands with an aggrieved shrug.
“I know this looks bad. Like we don’t care about you or that we didn’t care about what happened to your brother. You don’t have to believe me, Miss Beloi, but Lt. Beloi’s death has torn this department apart. Every available man and woman we have is working the case. That letter was a mistake. It’s…it’s a fucking form letter. I apologize. You know your brother worked undercover. His job was dangerous as hell. I … I should have explained that we have to keep our investigation under wraps. The last thing we want is to let our investigation blow all the hard work Lt. Beloi accomplished.”
Lexie continued to stare at him, then agreed. “Yes, I know the kind of work Anthony did. But he never discussed his missions with me. That was his choice. He tried to protect me. He didn’t want his work to touch me, to affect me.”
Staring at her clenched fists in her lap, the hideous irony struck her. Anthony always worried that something bad would happen to her because of his dangerous work. The scum he chased. But they’d gone after him, not her. And he was right. The worst possible thing had happened to her. The person she loved more than anything in the world was dead. She looked up realizing that the chief was talking to her.
He pointed at the big man sitting confidently at the end of the table. “Special Agent Gardner here just came in from Fort Bragg. Since Anthony’s body was found on the base, we’ll be sharing jurisdiction.”
Looking to the special agent, the chief heaved an enormous sigh and shook his head. “Hell, Jake, I hope you don’t think for a minute that we aren’t damn glad that you’re on the case. That’s the only good news we’ve had in this whole mess. We can use all the help we can get. Christ, you get into the drug rings here and it’s like pokin’ your head in a wasp’s nest looking for the one wasp with a green stripe on his ass instead of a black one.”
Lexie stood and began sorting her papers. She threw Agent Gardner an impervious nod.
“Please give me my letter. I need it so I am clear where I stand with the Yuma Police Department.”
Agent Gardner nodded in return and sent the letter back up the table. She didn’t thank him or even acknowledge him. Instead, as she had throughout the conversation, she turned on the Chief.
“I’m sure you are pleased that Special Agent Gardner has graced you with his presence. No doubt you men will have many long sessions--bull sessions--testing each other’s theories, looking for strengths and weaknesses in your arguments. Perhaps you will make charts, blueprints, and spreadsheets of all the important information you
