Childless: A Novel (6 page)

Tyler waved
his tablet over the police station parking meter until it acknowledged payment with a beep. Straining his left ear toward his shoulder he tried working out the kink in a neck that resented sleeping on the couch. After a series of comforting pops he stretched in the other direction. Renee had said he couldn’t sleep in the master suite since she had cleaned the sheets for her parents. And joining her in the guest room would have required groveling, something he refused to do.

He approached the door in grumpy silence with a slight anxiety. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was that troubled him about asking Smitty’s advice. His old partner would keep the conversation completely confidential. But he still felt uneasy.

Tyler felt his pocket to confirm that he had remembered to bring the Santiago letters. Then he swallowed hard while crossing the threshold to reenter a former life.

A minute later Tyler found himself standing outside a window of bulletproof glass, behind which an unfriendly face eyed him skeptically. She said nothing while waiting for the day’s first interruption to identify himself.

“Cain,” he offered. “Tyler Cain. I’m here to see Smitty.”

A disapproving scowl caused him to wonder what had happened to the perky brunette who used to occupy the receptionist station.

He nervously cleared his throat. “Or, I mean, Assistant Chief Smith.”

A familiar voice called out from behind. “Cain?”

He spun around to see Kory Sanders, annoyingly happy to see him.

Tyler forced a smile in return, nodding. “Kory.”

Kory slapped Tyler on the back, as if they had once been great friends.

They hadn’t.

“What’s happening?” asked the man who had weaseled his way into the post Tyler had deserved. “It’s been a while. I haven’t seen you since, oh, let me think, right after I became captain. Am I right?”

Kory smirked.

Pull out your gun and shoot me in the heart now, why don’t you
? Tyler thought.

“Uh. Yeah,” he heard himself say.

“How’s PI work treating you?”

“Great!” he lied. “Couldn’t be better!” Which was almost true, given the new case.

Kory wore a doubtful smirk. “Riiiight.”

Tyler suppressed an urge to slug his former nemesis.

“So, still with, oh, what was her name? Courtney?”

“Heck, no.” Tyler snorted awkwardly. “Escaped that relationship years ago.” Another forced laugh. “How about you? Anyone keeping you warm at night?”

“Off and on. You know how it is…I’m game if they’re willing with no strings.”

“I hear you,” Tyler said. “My current live-in is a nice-enough gal. But it’s about time I ended it.”

The officer behind the glass glanced up, rolling her eyes.

“It’s just getting, you know, complicated. She wants more from me than I—”

He stopped. Why in the world was he telling Kory Sanders about his relationship with Renee? Kory Sanders was a jerk. But Tyler found himself on the speeding train of a conversation heading nowhere good.

He lied again. “I think she wants a kid.”

“Whoa, man,” Kory said. “You gotta nip that one soon. That’s why I have a strict policy: never live with a partner. Way too many expectations I’m not willing to meet.”

Change the subject
, Tyler thought. “I’m here to see Greg. Running an important case by him.”

“Really?” Tyler could almost see the gears churning away in Kory’s head. “Anything I can do to help?”

Tyler shook his head as he went for the dig. “Nah. Really needs someone…higher up.”

Kory sniffed. “Gotcha. Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” He rapped his knuckles twice on the counter before sliding two fingers across the entry scanner. The door buzzed open. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Tyler knocked assertively on the door with the sign that read
GREGORY SMITH, ASSISTANT CHIEF OF POLICE
.

“Smitty?”

His former partner glanced up from behind several stacks of files and offered a wry smile. “Tyler Cain. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Tyler set one foot over the threshold, waiting for an official invitation. “Got a few minutes?”

Smitty hesitated. Then he leaned back in his chair to wave him in. “You bet,” he said, closing the folder in front of him. He tossed it onto one of the piles. “We’ve been in the computer age for nearly a century, and there’s more paperwork now than ever!”

Smitty stood and moved to the front edge of his desk. Then he leaned back and crossed his arms. Tyler recognized the “keep it brief” stance, so he turned a chair around and leaned back to mirror his host’s posture.

Their reunion felt awkwardly cordial, another reminder that Greg Smith was no longer Tyler’s partner. The two had once trusted each other with their lives. They had been fairly close confidants who felt a bond forged patrolling neighborhoods, sipping doughnut-shop coffee, and enduring the boredom of more stakeouts than either cared to recall. But diverging streams of time’s river had created an expanse Tyler could no longer pretend away.

He reached deep for something to restore their former amity. He found a useful memory: Smitty confiding in his partner during a rough spot in his relationship with Carol Anne. Were they still married?

“How’s Carol Anne?” He felt his way lightly.

“Fine,” Smitty said. “She’s fine. We’re fine, actually.”

“Really? So you’re not—”

“No.” Smitty chuckled. “We’re not apart. Actually, quite the opposite. We got some help, worked through our issues, and then, well…” He paused, reaching back to spin around a frame. “There’s the result!”

A little girl who looked about two years old smiled cheesily at the camera, her hair decorated with ribbons and pigtails.

“Wow,” Tyler said, not sure if Smitty considered fatherhood a coup or a curse. He’d never wanted children back in the day, one of many tense spots in the marriage. He had called kids conceived in the heat of passion “unplanned monkey wrenches thrown into the gears of life.”

But the adoring grin Smitty flashed while displaying the photo suggested a change of heart.

“But I gather you’re not here for a social visit,” he said, spinning the frame back into place. “Is this about the case I sent your way?”

“Yes…and no.”

Smitty frowned. “Well, which is it?”

“The judge’s assistant insisted I keep the police out of this for now. Until I know more, at least. Officially speaking.”

“But unofficially?”

“Unofficially, the whole thing makes me uneasy. There’s a lot at stake, and I’m nervous the judge could be in danger.”

“Which judge?”

“Can’t say.”

“Fine. So, unofficially, what’s going on with this nameless judge?”

Tyler slid the letters from his pocket, holding them up but not quite offering them. “So far I’ve got three letters. Each mentions a big case on the nameless judge’s docket. He or she also makes a request for direct communication, hoping to dialogue about the pending decision.”

“He or she? No name?”

“Just a first initial and a last name.”

Smitty lifted his eyebrows in a silent request for more.

“A Manichean,” Tyler explained. “Might be a pen name. I found some information about an ancient religious sect called Manicheans, but nothing that seemed relevant to the case. Probably a coincidence.”

“Has the judge responded to the sender?”

Tyler shook his head. “Not so far. I’m not even sure he’s aware the letters exist.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Each letter sounds more desperate than the last. Possibly more threatening. The first reads like a simple request to correspond anonymously. The second hints about unwelcome consequences of a wrong decision. The third expresses annoyance that the judge has ignored the sender’s requests to dialogue.”

Smitty stroked his clean-shaven chin in thought. “Any criminal record?”

“Nothing listed on my usual sources. Of course, they’re always a bit out of date.” Tyler hesitated before floating his first request. “Any chance I could run the name through the department database?”

“Done,” Smitty said, uncrossing his arms, his standard end-of-meeting gesture.

Tyler didn’t move, prompting Smitty to reluctantly resume an attentive stance.

“What else?” he asked.

“Scan the envelopes to see if forensics can find anything useful?”

“Also done.”

“I’ve got a hunch about this one, Greg,” Tyler began. “The same hunch I got on the Gilbert case.”

As their eyes met, Tyler noticed Smitty’s jaw begin to clench.

“Gilbert?” he asked.

Tyler nodded slowly as both minds regurgitated the details. The brutal murder of a young girl could have been prevented had the two disobeyed orders. The chief hadn’t trusted Tyler’s gut. He had wanted something concrete before approving an arrest. One anonymous lead wasn’t enough to risk the embarrassment and backlash of hauling Travis Gilbert into custody. The respected businessman had donated generously to the mayor’s campaign. But Tyler knew his low-life source had told the truth. Sure, it would have been risky acting on the word of a twenty-eight-year-old drug dealer. But it was even more risky, Smitty had argued, to sit back and do nothing while Gilbert committed murder to prevent a public scandal. The girl had gotten in over her head trying to blackmail Gilbert. They had met at a party. He enjoyed her for a while, then discarded her like a disposable toy. So she threatened to expose his “discreet habit” of using recreational drugs. But Gilbert figured it would save hassle and money to take her out of the picture. The girl’s body disappeared until police uncovered her shallow grave behind a condemned suburban crack house six months after Tyler and Smitty were taken off the case.

“That’s why I wanted to get another opinion,” Tyler added. “You know, from the one person I trust on this kind of thing.”

Smitty half-smiled, appreciatively. “Well, I think you’re probably right.”

Tyler frowned at the validation.

“Unofficially, I’d trust your instincts.”

“But officially?”

“Officially, you already know what I’m going to say.”

Tyler nodded, sighing. “No crime has been committed.”

“We can’t invest time or resources on someone who, from all appearances, simply wants to exchange words with a judge. Even hostile words.” He waved his hand over the stacks of folders on his desk. “Look at this. I can’t get on top of the pile as it is.”

Tyler glanced down at the letters in his hand. He had anticipated Smitty’s response, the same one he would have given had some private investigator shared the scenario back when he was a detective. The police can’t get involved in a case based entirely on a hunch something
might
be wrong.

“I understand,” Tyler responded.

“But I’ll ask someone to run the name through our database for any additional leads.”

“I appreciate that.”

Smitty moved back around the desk to retake his seat. Recognizing the hint, Tyler slid the chair back into place before offering his hand across the desk.

“Thanks for the help, Smitty,” he said. “And for the lead. You’re a good man.”

Smitty shook firmly, then retrieved a folder from the pile.

“Listen, Ty,” Smitty said as Tyler moved toward the open door. “I miss working with you.”

Tyler turned back toward his former partner to accept the badly needed sip of camaraderie. “Me too,” he said.

“I gotta tell you, when you left the force, I thought you were crazy and…maybe even a little selfish.”

“Ouch.”

“No. Listen. I know there was bad blood between you and Kory, but it bothered me when you left. I won’t lie, it hurt a little.”

Both men blushed as honest sentiment invaded the conversation.

“But now I think it’s exactly what needed to happen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tyler asked.

“It means losing my favorite partner forced me to reflect, you know, about what was happening at home.”

A puzzled stare sat on Tyler’s face.

“Carol Anne and I were a train wreck waiting to happen. And the truth is, all my venting to you wasn’t helping matters. While I appreciated your encouragement it actually made things worse.”

“Good to know,” Tyler said self-deprecatingly.

“Oh, it wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I heard what I wanted to hear. I mean, it’s not like you had any experience with marriage. A married man has no business seeking advice from a carefree single buddy.”

They shared a laugh. Tyler’s less enthusiastic than Smitty’s.

“I guess I wanted what you had.”

Tyler nodded silently.

“But after you left I had to turn elsewhere. Long story short, Carol Anne and I got help. I learned to view love as a choice, not a feeling. That’s when things improved.”

Tyler shook his head, unsure of himself. “I’m not following you.”

“I think someone up there used your departure for good even though it didn’t make sense to either of us at the time.”

“Someone up there?” Tyler asked callously. “You mean God?”

Smitty shrugged. “Perhaps.”

A momentary silence lingered between them.

“Well, I’m glad my absence proved so helpful,” Tyler ribbed as he turned back toward the door.

“Ever read the story of Esther?” Smitty asked.

“Esther who?”

“Just Esther. Look it up.”

“OK. Because?”

“Because I think events can be orchestrated for purposes beyond our own intentions. The story of Esther describes a girl who had no clue that her crummy situation was being used to prevent an ancient holocaust.”

“You don’t say.” Tyler tried to follow.

Smitty chuckled. “Just read the story. Bottom line, I disagreed with your decision to leave the force. I was ticked off. But that decision ended up salvaging my marriage.” He reached for the picture frame. “And now I have this precious little girl.”

“I see.” Tyler finally connected the dots.

“Maybe something like that is happening for you. What if God wants to use your gut to prevent something awful from happening to this judge?”

“A nice thought. But I seriously doubt God has anything to do with it.”