Cry Havoc

After being put on hold, and transferred twice, she finally said, 'Hey, sport. What's up?'

'Well, hey there, LT. Why don't you tell me? Long time no talk.'

The drawl that used to shred Frank's nerves was soothingly familiar. Frank smiled only because Allison Kennedy couldn't see her.

'I know. How you been?'

'I been pretty good all right. And yourself?'

'Fair to middlin'.'

'That's what I hear. I understand you're keeping mighty fine company these days.'

Frank dreaded asking, even as she did, 'What mighty fine company might that be?'

'Aw, now don't get all coy on me. You know that doesn't sit purty on you. I mean, you and Doc Law, of course. The way I understand it you two are squeezing together tighter 'an teeth in a tripped bear trap.'

'And which credible source might this come from?'

'That's what the grapevine says, and from what I've seen of you two together, I reckon the grapevine's dead on for a change.'

'We're friends,' Frank allowed.

'And then some,' Kennedy choked. 'I gotta tell you, I'm a mite jealous.'

'You had your chance.'

'That's not true, and you know it. I never had a chance with you.'

Kennedy had a knack for driving a knife straight into the heart of a conversation. Then twisting it.

'Okay. You might be right there. At any rate that's not what I called about. I need a favor.'

'That's the only reason you ever call.'

Frank ignored the comment, giving Kennedy the Mother's real name and social security number.

'Can't you get this from Figueroa Narco?'

'Yeah, probably. But you've got a wider net there at Parker. Plus I trust you to do a better job. If you're busy though, don't worry about it.'

'No, I can do it. Just wondering why you're asking me, is all.'

'Because you're a good cop,' Frank said stroking her ego. 'You'll dig deeper than the suits here would. Besides, this way I get to check in on you. Still having bad dreams?'

Frank hadn't expected the ensuing silence.

'Some,' was the tenuous answer. 'How about you?'

'Not too often. Hey. You know you can always call. Doesn't matter when.'

Regaining a measure of her bravado, Kennedy snorted, 'Yeah, I'll bet Doc Law'd love it if I woke you up at two in the morning.'

'I'm a cop, she's Chief Coroner. We're used to two AM phone calls. I'm serious. You need me, you call.'

'Thanks. It's good to know you're there.'

'I am. Always.'

Another uncharacteristic pause, then Kennedy said wistfully, 'I miss you.'

Frank had nothing to offer, could think of nothing more comforting than a softly uttered, 'I'm right here.'

'You know what I mean.'

'Yeah. And you know there's nothing to be done about that.'

'I figured as much, but it couldn't hurt to check, huh?'

'Can't hurt,' Frank agreed.

For a brief moment, until she remembered how Kennedy hopped from lover to lover, Frank was flattered by the sincerity of her longing. She let the silence hang until Kennedy said, 'Well, I'll get on this and get back to you when I know something.'

' 'Predate it.'

Adding one of the narc's own parting lines, Frank told her, 'Keep your eye on the skyline and your nose to the wind.'

As she hung up, Kennedy's laugh came clearly across the line.

'Lewis!' Frank bellowed.

The detective skidded into the doorway.

'Yes, ma'am?'

'You get us a car yet?'

'No, ma'am.'

Frank cocked an eyebrow. 'What are you waiting for? Come on, Lewis, get with the program.'

Lewis made a pissy face but skittered out. Frank smiled. Noah was right. She was happy.

6

Having uncovered more of Danny Duncan's history, Lewis was anxious to re-interview his sister. Frank agreed, thinking it would be an easy place for Lewis to start the morning. She surprised the rookie by letting her drive and Lewis took them to a nicely kept bungalow in Rampart's jurisdiction. Danny's mother met the detectives at the door, politely but warily inviting them in.

Her daughter, Kim, was washing the breakfast dishes and both women were dressed and made-up. Lewis seemed to take that in, explaining she wouldn't keep them long. Mrs. Duncan motioned the women to sit on a plastic covered sofa.

Lewis got to the point, asking about the names she'd found through the database. Frank took in the photographs stippling the walls between crosses and plates painted with pictures of saints. The furniture was mostly a matching department store set, but a few older, wooden pieces occupied the clean and tidy room. The house boasted modestly but clearly of a hard-working, middle-class family.

Lewis addressed most of her questions to Kim, who answered readily, though vaguely. Frank felt she was sitting on something and might talk more freely if her mother wasn't in the room. She quietly asked Mrs. Duncan if she could see Danny's room.

'Certainly,' Mrs. Duncan agreed, leading Frank out to the garage. She explained almost defiantly that she and Kim each had their own rooms inside and her grandchildren shared the third room. She added, 'Daniel was too old to be coming home to his mother whenever he was out of money, so I let him stay out here. But I wasn't going to make it comfortable.'

Frank nodded, taking in the austere concrete-floored room. It wasn't uncommon in South Central for garages and storage sheds to be bedrooms or crash pads. They were frequently occupied by men and decorated with cobwebs, pin-ups, and empties, but Mrs. Duncan was having none of that. An armoire and a gently worn chair flanked a single bed, its sheets tucked as tautly as skin on a new facelift. An oval braided rug delineated Danny's half of the space. Tools, paint cans, and the usual garage paraphernalia were neatly stacked and shelved in the other half. A wooden crucified Jesus loomed over the armoire.

Indicating the carving, Frank asked if Danny was religious. Mrs. Duncan's face got hard and she replied through tight lips that he used to be.

'What happened?'

'He started running with that sister of mine, that's what happened.'

'How did that change him?'

'Detective, I'm sure you've heard about my sister. She's always been different. Ever since we were babies. She's always had to do things her way, even if it means going against the natural order of things.'

Mrs. Duncan quickly checked the sunny, rose-filled yard behind her.

'Truth be told,' she continued, 'I was glad to have Daniel where I could keep an eye on him. My sister's an awful influence on young people. She was always filling that boy's head with notions he shouldn't have had in there. I prayed for my son. I prayed that he would follow the Lord's path, but I guess my prayers weren't as strong as hers. I hope she's happy now,' Mrs. Duncan spat, 'because she's going to spend eternity on a spit in hell.'

Frank murmured, 'I take it you two don't get along.'

'Truth is, Detective, there was a time when I loved my sister, but that time has long since passed. She chose her path and I chose mine. We went our separate ways many a year ago but I still pray for her. I pray for that girl every day.'

'Mind if I look in here?' Frank asked at the armoire.