“What is this?” Phillips demanded, trying to play innocent. His face gave him away though. Innocent men didn’t get their faces covered with sweat that quickly, nor could the blood have drained from his face that fast on shock value alone.
“This is your criminal record, Mr. Masters,” Tim informed him, and Derek could not help but chuckle at his own private joke. Mike wondered if Smith would ever clue him in on exactly what that joke was. “And this,” Tim continued, holding up a small sheet of paper with a police header on it, “is a signed statement from Julie Peterson pinning you as the third rapist to attack her.” Tim smiled, visibly enjoying this. He wasn’t done yet. “And finally, this,” he teased, handing up a third sheet. This one had a Federal border along the top. “This is a warrant for your arrest.”
Phillips said nothing, his keys dropping to the floor with a clang as he lost motor control.
Tim smiled. “You’re going back to Cleveland, Phil. Where I’m sure there will be plenty of big, nice, friendly men named Molly that’ll show you exactly how a rape victim feels.”
CHAPTER NINE:
CASE CLOSED
Agent Tim White walked through the revolving doors of the Coral Beach Police Department, immediately starting to peel out of the beige trench coat he’d worn into the office. He stopped in his tracks just past the door, his eyes bulging slightly as he looked toward his desk.
“Not a bad day,” the man leaning against his cubicle said, running a hand through his auburn hair and flashing Tim a quick smile. It was the type of smile a used car salesman gave when you knew he was about to sell you the bridge, but you liked him anyway for it. He flipped the page of the police file he was holding, glancing only briefly at the pages. “Phillip Masters was wanted on eight counts of sexual misconduct back in Cleveland. They’ll be happy to have him back.”
“Not as happy as we’ll be to be rid of him,” Tim growled as he marched over to his desk and tossed his jacket upon it. “Duncan Taggart, I presume?”
The man smiled, shooting Tim a little two-fingered salute. “That’s me,” he chimed, giving Tim the once over and smiling.
“What?” Tim asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Your name’s Tim White. And you’re black. Please don’t tell me I’m the first person to point out the irony in that.”
“To my face, yes,” Tim sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Is there something I can help you with? I’ve hung up on you twice, what more can I say?”
Duncan closed the folder and waved it in front of Tim’s face. The red-stamped word ‘CLOSED’ shimmering back and forth in front of him, its ink still wet. “You did great work here, White. And with the Genblade case, but I told you that before.”
Tim nodded, tapping his index finger on the rail that ran across the top of his desk.
“But let me ask you this: how much fun is it doing a rape case?”
Tim stopped, thinking back to when he’d asked Mike that very same question only a few days before. It felt like months. “None at all,” he said finally, his voice hushed.
“That’s what I thought,” Duncan said, his mischievous grin returning. “Now, are you ready to get to work?”
Tim raised his head again to meet Duncan’s gaze, feeling a smile spread over his lips as the both of them started to walk towards the exit.
After fifth period, Xander, Mike, Derek and Cathy all sat around the picnic table in the back lot of the school, where this had all started mere days before. It felt like years. Horrible years spent tortured in hell, where not even the crows could peck at their eyes.
They knew by now that Bram Raine had been paid for his part in everything. That he’d been a hard case in high school, but had tried to turn himself around... Until his wife and daughter had been diagnosed with cancer.
The daughter wasn’t expected to last much longer, and Xander wished that she could have maintained her image of her father for her final weeks.
It made the victory sour, neither of them feeling much like celebrating as they licked their respective wounds.
Derek shuffled slightly, uncomfortable with the dragged out silence. He frowned as he looked to each of them, all of whom were avoiding eye contact with one another. The pain was too great, too much of it to simply smooth over like a hot knife would butter. His black shirt ruffled slightly in the wind and made him cold. They all felt it, but he was the only one to wrap his jacket around his arms. The rest of them felt they deserved the cold, for one reason or another. Finally, Derek asked the question on all of their minds: “What now?”
They all glanced at one another’s faces for a split second, then found their way back into the separation again. This time Derek joined them, resting his head on his knees. After a few more minutes, Cathy got up and walked away without so much as regarding either of her men, going home to lie down on her bed and cry.
Somewhere, Xander thought he could hear Spider laughing at him.
BOOK THREE: SMOKE AND MIRRORS
INTERLUDE:
SHE RAN
Lawrence Hogan leaned
