the temper explode before. He didn't like playing against or with Jorge.
'No fuckin' foul, pussy,' said Jorge.
Danny's teammates, including his friend Vince, who played like a lunatic, moved in to back Danny.
Danny was in a very dark mood. He had arrested Karen Reynolds. No, he and Lindsay had arrested her. The tall, blond young woman with great strong legs and an air of confidence had suddenly turned into a frightened girl. She had started to fall. Lindsay had caught her.
Karen Reynolds had looked up at both of them, tears streaming, face red.
'I didn't mean…He touched me… Really, I tried to tell him… I knew Bill was in the closet… I tried to tell Mr. Havel, tell him to leave me alone… He said he'd think about it… Think about it…I…He grabbed me… There in the classroom…I just…I did it. Please…my mother…'
Danny had wanted to help, but there was nothing he could do. It wasn't his job to help people who committed murder. He had done his job and done it well, but he still felt frustrated, darkened. And now Jorge was in his face, Jorge, under whose fingernails were small but clear traces of cocaine. Jorge was bigger than Danny. Jorge had a weight-lifter's body. Jorge was angry with the world and ready for battle.
'Back off or get busted,' said Danny.
'What? You a cop?'
'I'm a cop and you've got coke under your nails.'
Jorge turned his head to one side and looked at Danny to see if he was bluffing. He could see that he wasn't. Jorge took a step back and pointed a finger at Danny, a finger that said 'Next time it won't end like this.'
'Shooting foul,' said Danny. 'I get a free one at the line.'
Jorge nodded in temporary defeat. Both teams stepped back. The confrontation had taken less than a minute. Danny went to the line, thinking of the crying girl whose lawyers would claim self-defense. She might get off. Maybe she should. Either way her life was changed now and forever and she was only eighteen. The security guard, Bill Hexton, on the other hand, wouldn't get off. He had covered up a crime. He would lose his job. He would face jail time. The district attorney's office and a judge would decide how much.
Players from both teams lined up on the sides of the lane, hands up. Danny took the shot and missed. Jorge got the rebound and grinned.
All was not right with the world for Danny Messer this night.
Mac sat on the cot next to Keith Yunkin in the small, clean cell. Neither man spoke. There was nothing to say. Keith had murdered four people. He had done it to honor his brother. He had done it to rid the world of four people who preyed on children.
Mac sat, looked at the wall of the cell, smelled the scent of past and present bodies. He read the graffiti that would be scrubbed off later in the week. There were fresh messages, drawings.
'I Did Not Do This Crime This Time.- Big Ron.'
'Not Fare. Just Not Fare.- Ollie from St. Paul.'
'Warren Was Here.'
Mac had been there for almost half an hour looking at the wall, hearing people in other cells cough and talk to themselves, listening to Keith Yunkin breathe. Mac sat patiently, preoccupied with his own thoughts of the past. He had time.
Then Keith spoke.
'Did the rain stop?'
'It stopped three days ago,' said Mac.
'Who stopped the rain?'
Mac had no answer.
Stuart M Kaminsky
