“Yes, but…”
He cut her off. “I’m afraid I can’t really help you, SA Mandalay. Like I said, maybe you can check with archives if you feel like something is missing from the file.”
“I plan to do that,” she said. She was feeling somewhat perplexed by his sudden stonewalling but pressed forward. “Still, since you worked the case I’d appreciate it if you could fill me in on-”
“Have you spoken to the girl?” he asked, interrupting her yet again.
“Merrie Callahan? Yes, I talked to her this afternoon.”
“So then you know about her mental state.”
“Yes, but that’s not-”
“Do you plan to see this through?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Unless something has changed, then you have a murder that’s about to occur, correct?”
“As I understand it, yes. I believe that’s why I’m here.”
“Then perhaps you should focus on that instead of the past,” he instructed.
Now Constance had moved from perplexed and straight into annoyed. “Excuse me, Agent Keene, but I’m trying to prevent the murder. If I can figu-”
“Try me after Christmas, SA Mandalay,” he said, heavily stressing the after.
“What do you mean after Christmas?”
“Exactly that. If you still think I can help you after Christmas Day, then give me a call. But honestly, I don’t expect to hear from you again. Not about this, anyway.” His words were followed by a rustle and then dull silence.
“What do you- Agent Keene… Agent Keene?”
Constance pulled the cell away from her ear and stared at it before mumbling, “Bastard.”
She waited a long moment, still fuming over the verbal bum’s rush she’d just received from a colleague. However, based on what he’d said and the way he’d gone cold at the mention of the case, she was definitely beginning to wonder if maybe Ben was correct when he suggested the possibility of a cover-up. It wasn’t an idea she relished considering, but something was going on and it definitely didn’t fit with standard procedure.
Once her flare of temper had mellowed a bit, she thumbed through the phone book on her cell, highlighted a number, then pressed the button to dial.
For the second time today she heard five rings, followed by a recorded voice announcing no more than a curt, “Leave a message.”
“Drew, it’s Mandalay again,” she announced in the wake of the start tone. “This is my second message, and I need for you- Scratch that… Look, I’m sorry if I sound a bit frustrated, but I just had a really bizarre conversation with Agent Keene. He was assigned to the Christmas Butcher case prior to you, but if I had to guess I think you already know that. Listen… I know you and I have had some differences in the past, but the case always came first, even when we disagreed. Something really strange is going on with this… I could use your input. Just call me back, okay? This number. Thanks.”
She stabbed the END button with her thumb then ran the fingers of her free hand through her hair as she blew out a heavy sigh. This case was starting to make her head hurt, literally. Of course, maybe it wasn’t the case as much as the lack of sleep combined with the frustration she was feeling about her uncooperative colleagues. However, since they and the sleep deprivation were both a direct result of the assignment, why not just go ahead and let it take the blame? It seemed like as good a scapegoat as any.
After another sigh Constance shook her head in resignation then stood up from the chair and padded across the room. She rummaged around in her suitcase, dug out a bottle of ibuprofen and tossed back a couple of the pills with the remains of the diet cola she’d purchased with her dinner.
She wandered over to the door and double-checked the deadbolt, then swung the small security bar into place out of habit. Pushing the drapes aside, she glanced out the window into the night. There was little to see other than the parking lot and the dim glow of the exterior lights mounted next to each of the room doors. Even so, while she stood staring into the darkness, the earlier chill made a resurgence along her spine, and she felt herself shiver as it crawled insect-like around the back of her neck.
She allowed the drapes to fall back into place, then wandered over to the bed and crawled onto it atop the thin comforter. Lying diagonally across the mattress, she yanked a pillow from beneath the covers and tucked it behind her head, then tried to relax. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. The room smelled of old furniture polish and stale air, the latter issuing on a warm draft from the heating unit on the exterior wall. If the parking lot could be taken at face value, she was the only guest staying at the motel tonight. If the odors were any indication, she may well be the only guest they’d had for quite some time.
She slowly opened her eyes, then lifted her hand, which was still wrapped around her cell. As she did so, she allowed her thumb to punch in a speed dial code via little more than muscle memory.
The speaker trilled into her ear twice, then was replaced by a voice.
“Hey…” Ben said.
“Hey,” Constance replied, her voice soft and audibly tired.
“Bad day?” he asked.
“I’ve had better.”
“Yeah, ain’t we all…” Ben agreed.
Through the phone Constance could hear noise in the background, ranging from voices to music to the unidentifiable. “Where are you?”
“Double D’s,” he told her. “Grabbin’ a pizza and some beers with a coupl’a other coppers.”
“Oh… I’m sorry… I should probably let you go then…”
“No, no…” he objected. “Just hang on a sec.”
There was some rustling, a few muted voices, and then more rustling. A minute later, his voice came back on the line without the added soundtrack behind it.
“There…” he said. “That’s better.”
“What is?” she asked.
“Just stepped outside ta’ get away from all the noise. So… You want me ta’ talk dirty to ya’ or somethin’?”
“Not tonight.”
“Okay, so ya’ wanna talk dirty ta’ me instead? I’m good with that…”
“Ben…”
“Hey… Just tryin’ ta’ help ya’ feel better, hon.”
“I know…” she sighed.
“So? What’s up? I’m listenin’…”
“I’m not really sure to be honest,” she told him. “This case is a fucking trainwreck.”
“Whoa…” Ben replied. “If it’s gettin’ an f-bomb outta you then I’d say so…”
“Sorry…”
“S’okay. It’s kinda sexy.”
She half-snorted. “Only you would think that.”
“I dunno,” he replied. “There’re guys out there that’d pay for it. But that’s a whole ‘nother story… So, really… What’s goin’ on now?”
“Remember I was telling you about the holes in the case file this morning?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, they aren’t filling in. In fact, they’re getting bigger.”
“How so?”
“Well, for one thing I finally managed to get in touch with one of the prior assigned agents. Everything was fine until I told him I was calling about this particular case, and then he just completely blew me off.”
Ben grunted out a low harrumph, paused, and then said, “I know ya’ don’t wanna hear it, but like I said earlier, sounds like a dirty cop in there somewhere. Somebody’s coverin’ up somethin’.”
“I know,” Constance answered with a resigned sigh. “Unfortunately, I think you’re probably right, but I don’t know what or why. This whole thing is peculiar enough as it is without a conspiracy thrown in on top of it.”
“Get anything outta the interview today?” he prodded.
