In Big Trouble

The strange thing was, it was no less terrifying now.

And then, with the suddenness of a nightmare, she was sixteen again and the thing that had never happened was happening-the car's doors were being thrown open, and there was yelling, and heavy, thick arms reached in from the darkness to drag the two of them apart.

'Put your hands up and step away from the car,' an amplified voice called from beyond a bank of lights. The light was so bright that Tess couldn't see anything, but she was aware of running car engines and the sudden sound of a helicopter overhead.

'It's not what you think,' she said, struggling against the arms that held her. Her braid had come loose at some point and her hair was flying around her head in snaky Medusa tendrils. Crow was lying in the street, a police officer's knee in his back, his hands being cuffed. Four other officers stood in a circle around him, and when Crow tried to raise his head, one pushed him back to the pavement with his foot.

'Leave him alone,' Tess screamed. 'He wasn't doing anything.'

'Do you live here?' one of the officers asked impatiently. The one who had been holding her arms had finally released her, but she could still feel his bulk at her back.

'No, it's his place.'

'Fine.' He walked over to Crow, bent down, and took the keys from his pocket, using them to open the door. It seemed as if dozens of officers followed, although Tess later realized there were no more than six. Her sense of time was also off-it felt like hours passed, but her watch said only fifteen minutes had elapsed when they returned, toting a rifle bagged in plastic. A plainclothes officer had arrived at the scene, and they showed him their find with great excitement. But he shook his head, and although Tess could not hear what he said, he seemed angry and upset.

'Is this your shotgun?' the plainclothes officer asked Crow, now handcuffed and in the back of one of the patrol cars.

'I've never seen that before in my life.'

'Do you have a search warrant?' Tess asked.

'We had a warrant for the arrest of one Ed Ransome and this was under the bed in what appears to be his room.' The cop turned back to Crow. 'And if this is the gun that killed Tom Darden, you're going to have a lot of explaining to do.'

'Killed who?'

'Shut up, Crow,' Tess called to him from the curb, where they had left her in the care of a big beefy police officer. 'Just shut up and don't say anything until you get a lawyer.'

The detective walked over to her. 'You might want to heed the same advice, miss.'

'Are you taking me in?'

'We've got a few questions to ask you. Unless you want to change your mind and file a rape complaint, then we'll make sure you get to the emergency room. How about it?'

It was first light now, a pale, ghostly rim of color showing at the horizon. Tess was aware of people streaming out on their lawns in bathrobes and night-clothes, staring curiously.

'Were you here waiting for us?'

'We had officers waiting here for him and officers following you. You threw us off when you left the restaurant in only one vehicle-but not for long.'

'You brought the cops here? You brought the cops to me, to this house?' Crow called out from the patrol car. 'Jesus, Tess, how fucking stupid could you be? I trusted you, and you screwed me again.'

'I didn't-'

Two cops were pushing Tess into another patrol car now, slamming the door, so her protestations to Crow were cut off.

'I want a lawyer,' she said, but it came out as a undignified whimper. Specifically, she wanted Tyner, and she almost cried at the thought of how far away he was. Lord help her, she'd give anything to hear that cranky old bastard screaming on the phone at her.

'You won't need one, miss,' said the detective, who had taken his place in the passenger seat. 'You're not being charged with anything. We'd just like to take you downtown and ask you what you know about your friend, Mr. Ransome.'

'I know he couldn't kill someone under any circumstances.'

The detective had sorrowful, cocker spaniel eyes. 'Then maybe you don't know him quite as well as present circumstances would suggest.'

Chapter 13

Church bells were ringing in the distance before anyone bothered with Tess at the police station. They had left her in a room, not under arrest as far as she could tell, but not free to go, either, judging by the officer posted outside her door. At last she was in the famed 'box,' as everyone in Baltimore knew to call it since Homicide had become the city's official religion. She had spent the balance of the night in a plastic chair, her body desperate to sleep, her mind refusing. Talk about a mind-body problem. These two were like some long-married couple-the resentful insomniac mind kept jabbing the body every time it drifted off, hissing: How can you sleep at a time like this? Body begged wearily for its due, arguing that they would both be better off if they got a little rest. And so it had gone, all night long.

She was almost crazed with exhaustion by the time a man entered the room, carrying a wax paper bag and two Styrofoam cups of coffee. It was the sad-eyed plainclothes cop from the night before, the one who had arrived late, then ridden downtown with her. She remembered he seemed angry or troubled, but that might have been the fragment of a not-quite dream.

'Detective Al Guzman,' he said. 'Homicide. And you're Theresa Monaghan, according to your various licenses.'

She nodded, letting the full version of her name pass. She wasn't going to form words until strictly necessary. The coffee was black and bitter-she usually took hers with a generous portion of half-and-half-but she needed the caffeine, so she sipped at it. Awful. The bag held an elephant ear and she broke off several flaking layers and dropped them into her coffee to sweeten it. Guzman watched approvingly, as a mother might watch a finicky child.

'Sorry for last night,' he said. 'You were caught in an unavoidable confluence of events, I'm afraid. Wrong place, wrong time. Wrong guy.'

She let a lift of her shoulders pass for a reply.

'You know Ed Ransome before you came to Texas, or was he just, uh, a new friend? You can tell me. There's no law here against getting involved with the wrong man. Couldn't build enough prisons to hold all the women guilty of that crime.'

It was a cornball thing to say, but he smiled as if he knew it was a cornball thing to say, and she found herself thawing a little. Guzman was not a handsome man, and his body was shaped like a squash, with its narrow shoulders and paunchy midsection. But he had a kind face that invited confidences and confessions-those big brown eyes and a glossy mustache whose shape mirrored the gentle, downturned mouth beneath it. Perhaps if she told him everything she knew, she would be allowed to go home and sleep. She thought longingly of La Casita, then remembered that Esskay was there alone. Maybe they would let her call Mrs. Nguyen at least, so she could feed the dog, get one of the hookers to take her for a walk. It would be so good to crawl into bed next to her.

But what was best for Tess wasn't necessarily best for Crow.

'I'm a private detective, which you know, since you've obviously gone through my wallet. Crow-Ed Ransome to you-is an old friend. An old boyfriend.' That wasn't revealing anything, given the way the police had found them. Coitus interruptus by SWAT team. At last a form of birth control that was one hundred percent reliable. 'His parents asked me to find him and I did. End of story.'

'I think it's just the beginning,' Guzman said, then waited, with those big brown eyes and that so very sad smile. He was letting the silence do the work, hoping Tess would rush into it out of nervousness. Exhausted as she was, she couldn't help admiring the technique.