Covert Exposure (3 page)

“Thanking you, I should be thanking you? Are
you nuts? Those kids were devastated. There is a protocol to
handling this type of situation, which you totally shot out the
window. I can’t believe they sent someone like you to work in our
department,” Shannon bit back.

His blood boiled. “What do you mean someone
like me? You mean someone who’ll tell these crack whores and child
abusers that we’re not going to put up with their crap? It’s
because of people like you, and your touchy feely bullshit, that
these pieces of shit keep living the way they do and treating their
kids the way they do.”

Spinelli watched as Shannon closed her eyes
and drew in a couple of deep breaths. He reached toward her. She
raised her hand and held it inches from his chest. She shook her
head. “I can’t talk to you right now or I’ll just say things,
things that aren’t nice.”

Shannon turned, pushed her way through the
stairwell doorway, and walked down the hall toward her office.
Spinelli stared after her.

Spinelli took two steps back and leaned
against the wall of the stairwell. He crossed his arms over his
chest and stared down at his feet. Sweat began to bead on his brow
and his vision blurred as horrible memories of his past surfaced.
To make matters worse the harsh words Shannon spoke seconds earlier
rotated through his mind over and over with the unpleasant
memories.
I can’t believe they sent someone like you to work in
our department. I can’t believe they sent someone like you to work
in our department. I can’t believe they sent someone like you to
work in our department.
He wondered what exactly she meant. She
knew nothing about him or his life. He squeezed his eyes shut
hoping to extinguish the awful childhood memories. It didn’t work.
Cherry Street, of all places why did the Washington home have to
be on Cherry Street?
The very same street where he grew up.

Spinelli opened his eyes and absently glanced
around the stairwell. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself
now. Should he go back downstairs to his precinct or should he go
back up to Social Services? He chose to head downstairs to his
precinct, to his comfortable life.

Chapter
Four

Spinelli stepped through the doorway of his
precinct to find Walker and Marsh gathered around their open-case
board. He stood behind them taking in their conversation and he
watched as Walker hung photos of a dead body on the board.

Spinelli leaned forward and studied the
photos. “You gotta be kidding me. Is that Santa Claus?”

Walker turned to face Spinelli. “Sure is. He
took a 22 round to the back of his head. The medical examiner put
the time of death at about 11:00 last night, about two hours after
the mall closed.”

Spinelli crossed his arms over his chest as
he continued to study the photos. “What do we know?”

“Motive looks like robbery. His wallet’s
missing. Mall security identified him as Roland Hudson, age
sixty-eight. They said he’s been playing Santa at the mall for
years,” Marsh added.

Spinelli was about to ask more questions when
he heard the shrill voice of Captain Jackson yelling his name. He
squeezed his eyes shut and wished himself anywhere but in the
office at that very moment.

“Yeah Cap. What’s up?” he asked in his smooth
self-assured voice.

“In my office now!” she demanded.

Spinelli exchanged glances with Walker and
Marsh and headed toward his death sentence. The second he entered
the Captain’s office she met his gaze. She hadn’t said a word but
he felt like he’d been scolded and beat to a pulp. He took a seat
in the chair opposite her desk and watched her large nostrils flare
in and out. Jackson ran her hand through her thick short black hair
and cleared her throat. “What did you do to Ms. O’Hara? You’ve been
upstairs less than half a day and her boss is already calling down
here looking for a replacement for you. Fontaine said she’s never
seen O’Hara so upset.”

Jackson leaned forward and placed her elbows
on her desk, resting her chin on her fingers as she stared down her
nose at Spinelli. Though she only stood about five-foot-five and
weighed all of one hundred thirty pounds, she managed to scare the
hell out of him at times. He shifted his body in the chair leaning
back to make himself more comfortable. “I don’t know. I just helped
her take a few kids out of a crack whore’s home. I guess maybe she
didn’t like how I did it.”

Spinelli flashed his lady-killer smile at
Jackson to try to loosen her up a bit but it didn’t work.
“Spinelli, I don’t have time for this crap. Why can’t you ever just
play nice with people?”

He opened his mouth to speak but Jackson cut
him off. “I told Fontaine that you are all that is available right
now and she’ll just need to make due. I told her I would talk to
you and that you would do whatever she and Ms. O’Hara instructed
you to do. Have I made myself clear, Detective?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now get your ass back out there and work
with Walker and Marsh on the Santa Claus case until Ms. O’Hara
needs you. You’re going to give her the rest of the afternoon to
simmer down. She doesn’t need your services again until tomorrow.
And Spinelli, try to soften up a bit.”

He fought to not roll his eyes as he lifted
himself from his chair. Well, on a good note at least he got to
work on something productive for the remainder of the
afternoon.

Chapter
Five

Spinelli arrived at the precinct bright and
early Friday morning in hopes to study Walker and Marsh’s Santa
board before reporting to Ms. O’Hara.

He nudged his way between Walker and Marsh.
“Anything new on Santa?”

“His blood alcohol level came back at .06. No
sign of struggle. Just the .22 to the back of the head,” Walker
replied as he flipped open the manila folder and scanned the
medical examiner’s report. Spinelli leaned toward him and craned
his neck to review the report as well.

Spinelli finished reading the report and took
a couple of steps toward the Santa board then he looked back at
Walker and Marsh. “So he played Santa until 9:00 p.m., the Coroner
put his time of death at about 11:00 p.m., his blood alcohol level
came back at .06, and they found him in the mall’s parking ramp a
few stalls away from his vehicle. So he drank alcohol at the mall?
Any reason he would still be at the mall two hours after his shift
ended? And where, when and with who did he drink?”

Walker closed the folder then tossed it onto
his cluttered desk. “Marsh and I questioned the security guards
that were on duty between 9:00 p.m. and the time he was found and
nobody seems to know anything. We’re going back over to the mall
again today to review more security tapes and talk to more mall
employees.”

Spinelli noted the time. He raked his hand
through his hair and willed his feet to move in the direction of
the stairwell leading to the fourth floor.

Within minutes, he found himself knocking on
Ms. O’Hara’s office door. Before she could even look up from her
desk, he strapped on his lady-killer smile hoping it would smooth
things over. “Good morning, Ms. O’Hara. Reporting for duty.”

Shannon looked up from her desk and spoke
through her clenched jaw. “Morning, Detective Spinelli.”

Spinelli kept his gaze fixed on her. She
looked angry and she looked as though she wanted to say more but he
wasn’t sure he wanted her to. He cleared his throat to speak, to
take control of the moment, but she beat him to it.

“Well Detective Spinelli, Ms. Fontaine tells
me we’re stuck with each other. And just for the record, I’m well
aware of the fact you don’t want to be here and I’m sure you are
aware of the fact that I don’t want you here, but I promised Ms.
Fontaine that I would do my best to work with you for the next
several weeks. So how about we start fresh today and put yesterday
behind us?”

Spinelli thought for a moment. He knew he
didn’t have a choice in the matter. Jackson would string him up if
he screwed up again. Oh how he missed Mad Dog.
This is all Mad
Dog’s fault. If he hadn’t retired I wouldn’t be in this
predicament.
Spinelli offered a crooked smile and nodded.
“Okay, fresh start it is.”

“Great then, and just so we’re clear, your
behavior yesterday in the Washington home was completely out of
line. And in order for this arrangement to work we need to just
stick to the plan which basically means that you need to keep quiet
and do as you’re told,” Shannon replied, unable to hide the disdain
in her tone.

Ouch.

Spinelli opened his mouth to defend himself
but thought better of it when an image of Captain Jackson’s
unpleasant glare flashed through his mind. He pressed his lips
together.

Spinelli stepped into Shannon’s office and
took a seat in the chair opposite her desk. He leaned back in the
chair and stretched out his legs, making himself at home. He stared
across the desk at her and wondered if she wore her hair in that
“old lady” bun every day or if perhaps, she let it down at times.
The dull suit she wore today reminded him of the drab suit she wore
yesterday but rather than navy blue today’s version came in a
frumpy dark brown color. He wondered if she ever wore clothes that
suited her age and petite, yet shapely, body. He imagined she might
look pretty hot in one of those fitted sweater dresses gathered
tightly at her waist with a big clunky belt. He further imagined
her in a pair of sexy tall black boots.

He looked on as Shannon dug through the
neatly stacked files on her desk. “Here it is. The Smith file,” she
said as she flipped the file open and drummed her fingers on her
desk as she scanned the contents.

Spinelli fought the urge to reach over and
place his hand over her drumming fingers.

Shannon closed the file and looked up at him.
“We need to do an unannounced visit today at the home of Mike and
Tiffany Smith.”

“What’s the story?” Spinelli asked.

“The Smiths…well they’re a little…shall we
say slow. They’re trying to care for a three month old but it’s not
going very well.”

“What part isn’t going well?”

Shannon sucked in a deep breath then exhaled.
“Well, the Smiths are in their mid-thirties but their academic
level is somewhere in the neighborhood of about the fifth grade
level. They’ve made numerous visits to the emergency room with the
baby.”

Spinelli frowned and quickly shifted his body
forward toward Shannon’s desk. “Why? What did they do to the
baby?”

“Nothing, they haven’t really done anything
to the baby. They just don’t know how to care for her. They don’t
even know the basics. The baby cries and they don’t know what to do
so they take her to the emergency room.”

Spinelli flashed an accusing scowl in
Shannon’s direction. “Well if they don’t know how to care for a
baby why is the baby still in their custody? I guess this is our
great system at work, huh.”

“Well, I’m sorry you don’t like our system,
Detective, but it’s just not all that simple sometimes. Rather than
debate this maybe we should just get a move on, and maybe today you
can just stick to your part of the job and let me do mine. Shall
we?” Shannon added as she flung her double-breasted wool coat over
her shoulders, and motioned for him to leave her office.

Spinelli followed Shannon to the parking lot
where they climbed into the same green minivan they had used the
day before. He drove them to the Smith home, which happened to be
only a few blocks from the Washington home. He parked the vehicle
and scanned the area looking for anything unusual or unsafe.

Spinelli hated this neighborhood, the
neighborhood in which he grew up, the same neighborhood in which
his mother sold herself on the street corner for money to buy
crack. He recalled the many times she left him home alone to fend
for himself for as long as he could remember until finally, at the
ripe old age of thirty-two, she succeeded in killing herself by
drug overdose, leaving him completely on his own at the young age
of sixteen. After a couple of years pool hustling and card sharking
for a living, he figured out what he should do with his life. He
decided that if it was the last thing he ever did he was going to
clean up the streets of Milwaukee and make sure no children would
ever have to grow up in the same environment he had. He put himself
through college and took a job with the Milwaukee Police
Department. Tears of rage burned behind his eyes but he wouldn’t
let them fall. He hadn’t cried since he was six years old and he
wasn’t about to start now.

Spinelli turned toward Shannon and nodded.
She opened the passenger door and stepped out of the van.

Shannon led the way through the decrepit old
apartment building stained with grit and mold. She stopped in front
of apartment 4C but didn’t knock right away. She stood at the door
for a moment and just listened. Spinelli could hear the faint cries
of an infant. Shannon knocked on the door but no one answered.
After a brief moment she knocked on the door again and again no one
answered. She turned the knob and when the door opened, she stepped
through and called, “Tiffany?” No one responded. The cries of the
infant continued.

Spinelli followed Shannon as she walked
through the living room, then the kitchen and into the hallway
leading to the two tiny bedrooms. He pushed aside the stacks of
what appeared to be bagged clothing in order to make a wider
pathway through the cluttered hallway. He couldn’t believe that
people lived in such filth.

They entered the baby’s room where the baby
lay crying in her crib. Shannon reached for the baby and scooped
her up into her arms. Spinelli watched as Shannon glanced around
the room looking as if searching for something specific. “What are
you looking for?” he asked.