“Thanks.”
And he broke the connection.
“Okay, Nick, buddy, let’s have it,” Stone said, as Ashton rose and came toward them.
“It’s simple. Evidently yesterday Tabby Koch called Cally and invited her for coffee this afternoon,” Ashton said. “And she didn’t tell me, though I have no idea why, and she didn’t listen when The Team told her not to go. She’s headed out to meet with Tabby right now, and nobody knows where they’re meeting. Maia Peterson thinks Cally is letting the hormones get to her a little, and that she’s overestimating her chances with a combative Tabby this late in her pregnancy… and given she was having hip issues for the last week, and the doc said it was hormonal, I agree.”
“What would Koch want with your wif–” investigator Jim Carson began, then broke off. “Aw shit. She doesn’t want Cally. Koch wants you…”
“Probably to ride his coattails up through the department, and maybe she thinks she can use him to get her job back,” Peabody filled in.
“…And plans to get rid of your wife and your baby to do it,” Carson finished.
“That’s what we’re afraid of,” Ashton said. “I want as many of you as aren’t already on a case, helping me by scouting out the nearest busy cafés near ICPD headquarters as we can find. Easy walking distance, because she didn’t take the scooter.”
“On it, boss-man,” investigator Beulah Thomas declared, as she dropped into VR.
“And then,” another voice broke in from the door to the bullpen, “you go find her, Nick. And I’ll see you have backup.”
Ashton turned, to see Lee Carter, slightly pale and very stern, standing in the archway.
Less than two minutes later, Johnson Burke came up from VR, his deep mahogany face unhappy. “Detective Ashton, sir, we’ve got about half a dozen active and busy cafés within easy walking distance of their precinct. I guess cops drink a lot of coffee…”
“Damn, damn, damn,” Ashton cursed. “How do we narrow it down, and do it fast?”
“Let me see,” Peabody said then. “I remember her and her uncle pretty damn well. I bet I can pick out no more than two possibilities out of the lot. Then we break into two teams and each gets one café.”
“That works,” Ashton said. “Go, Win.”
Peabody dropped into the VR room where the junior investigators were sorting through information and studying city maps.
Moments later, he came up for air with the rest of the Gang.
“Got it,” he said. “It’s the Baked Bean. Good coffee, good food, and cheap. At the near end of the arcade next to the ICPD headquarters precinct. Kershaw loved the place. I’d lay odds he took his niece there any number of times.”
“I’m gone,” Ashton said then, heading for the door.
“Peabody, you and Stone go after him,” Carter ordered. “He’ll need help, and he might need somebody to keep his head on straight.”
“Sir,” Investigator Mary Nailly said, “we’d like to go along.”
“No, you stay here, all of you,” Carter decreed, as the two men ran after Ashton. “He, Stone, and Peabody have history together. Depending on whether anything else goes down, and whether or not Koch has accomplices, we may need you all here. Besides, half of his wife’s colleagues are already en route, because one of ‘em tailed Detective Ames to the coffee shop.”
“Which argues,” Brandon Elliott, the last of the investigations Gang, remarked, “that she’s not on her game to begin with, if somebody could tail her.”
“Yes, it does,” Carter said. “If any of you have personal deities, a few entreaties might be good right now. Otherwise our Investigations Lead – hell, our Field Lead – could end up in a very bad way, in a very personal fashion.”
The others nodded and resumed work.
The Jive
Cally sat in the Baked Bean at a little booth in the corner, sipping her decaf – liberally laced with cream and sugar, a preference that had only hit during her pregnancy – and nibbling a slice of quiche Lorraine while she waited for Tabby Koch, trying not to eat too fast and risk appearing rude. She checked the clock on the wall; Tabby was late, and she began to grow concerned. Was Maia right after all? Is Tabby up to something?
Just then an urgent VR call came in, and Cally recognized Koch’s identification. She answered the call, and before she could even say hello, Tabby began to babble.
“Cally, I need your help! This is bad, this is so bad! I was taking a short cut and this perp cut me off, and he figures to rape me! And I don’t have my carry weapon anymore, because they confiscated it when I left the department! Help me, Cally! He’s gonna rape me!”
“Calm down, Tabby. Where are you?”
“I’m in the alleyway behind the café. There’s some lights out and it’s dark, so I didn’t see the bastard! Hurry!”
“I’m on my way.”
Cally paid the bill for her food in VR and held up her badge, telling the waitress to hold the table. Then she nudged the shoulder holster under her left arm – thankful that the holster adjusted for the increasing size of her breasts – felt the backup in the small of her back, and headed for the door.
Outside, she rounded the corner of the café into a narrow alley leading back to the storage and shipping areas of the various storefronts, moving at a trot despite the discomfort to her belly and breasts. As she approached the rear corner, she slowed down and drew her primary carry weapon from the shoulder holster.
It is dark back here, she thought, straining her ears to hear any sound of movement. Damn, I’m not hearing anything, and it’s too dark to spot much, if the perp is trying to hide things. I hope he hasn’t already done the deed
