Death in Her Eyes (A Mac Everett Mystery Book 1) (15 page)

“You finally made it home,” Roscoe said. “Can we come up?”

“Got a mouse in your pocket?”

“Stan’s with me. Open the damn door,” he teased.

“Sure, come on up,” I said. I hit the buzzer and soon heard footsteps in the hall.

Stan and Roscoe came through the door wearing shit eating grins. Stan was carrying a box of donuts.

“Hi, my name is Roscoe, I’m an alcoholic,” Roscoe said as his huge bulk cleared the door.

I’d never seen him so serious.

“Ya got some coffee,” Stan asked.

“It’s late for coffee for me, but I can make some for you guys.”

“Well get on it. Can’t have fresh donuts without coffee,” Roscoe said.

I went to the kitchen, my two buddies close behind. The Mr. Coffee was on the counter. I dumped out the day old coffee grounds, filled the pot with fresh water, put in a new filter, scooped in some Maxwell House, and pushed start.

“Coffee will be ready in a snap,” I said. “What’s the occasion?”

“Every intervention starts with a substantial helping of coffee,” Roscoe said.

“Is this an intervention?”

“Not really,” Stan said, “but it sounds good. Roscoe and I talked a couple times today and we talked about you.”

“Something good I hope.”

“Only if you’ll listen,” Roscoe said. “Stan told me you were trying to dry out on your own. We want to help you.”

“I appreciate it guys, but…”

“Shut up and listen,” Stan said. He was serious.

“OK, what do you have to say?” I sneered. I took a seat at the kitchen table as the first whiff of coffee began to fill the room.

“When I left the Army I had a load of problems,” Roscoe began. “The biggest one was I liked seeing the bottom of a bottle.”

“I remember,” I replied. “We polished a few off together.”

“And I helped too, but I could walk away from it, neither of you two could,” Stan added.

“I’ve done pretty well on my own so far, but tell me about the program. Maybe if I join up that lady shrink will get off my back.”

“That’s not a good enough reason to join and if that’s why you do it, you won’t stick with AA,” Roscoe said. “Let me tell you about the parts of an alcoholic- the spiritual, mental, and physical parts.”

Roscoe explained what amounted to the metaphysics of the program and it appealed to me. The passion he had for what he said impressed me. The coffee and hot donuts made it all a little more palatable.

“I’ve heard about the twelve steps. How long does that take?” I asked.

“You take twelve steps to sobriety,” Roscoe said. “Every AA meeting will have a list of the twelve steps in the front of the room. They’re at the core of the Alcoholics Anonymous program. You don’t ever complete the twelve steps though. There’s a beginning, the first step, but no end. From the moment you commit to changing, you’re working the steps in your life.”

“What’s the first one,” I asked. I thought I already knew, but I asked anyway.

“We admit we are powerless over alcohol - that our lives have become unmanageable,” he said.

“Well I’m down with that,” I said. “How do I start?”

Roscoe looked right through me, as if he was trying to see my heart. After a bit, he said, “I’ll be your sponsor. I’ll take you to a meeting in the morning and maybe tomorrow afternoon too. Don’t think quitting is easy.”

“You’ve done pretty well on your own. You have the willingness to change, but it takes more,” Stan said. He looked at Roscoe and smiled. “I had to kick this asshole’s butt three times, one for every time he quit.”

“And I had it coming,” Roscoe said.

Stan slapped the larger man on the back.

“When you’re faced with trouble, you’ll need the support of a group, Roscoe, or me,” Stan asked. “Can you do that? Can you ask for help?”

Asking for help was never my strong suit, but I could see these guys were serious. I said I’d do whatever they told me to do.

We’d polished off the donuts and Stan and Roscoe finished the coffee. I told them it had been a long day and I wanted to call it a night.

“I’ll be here at seven forty-five to get you,” Roscoe said.

“You bring that address book, Stan?” I asked.

“That’ll have to wait. We can talk tomorrow…if you follow through with Roscoe.”

He had me there. Stan and Roscoe got up, said good night and I was alone with an empty donut box, about a third of a pot of coffee, and my thoughts. I had a lot to think about, but I wasn’t going to solve anything tonight, so I decided to turn in. I hit the rack and killed the light as my digital alarm clock clicked onto one fifteen AM. The phone rang about one thirty. I hoped it would be Ashton, but it was Dave down stairs. The gang was asking for me. I told Dave I’d come if he would help me with my will power.

I’d put in my share of late nights at the Drunk Monk and a hundred other bars over the years. Tonight was a totally new experience. I wasn’t blitzed. I’d had two shots of rye then stuck to club soda. The steps were still steep, but it was fatigue rather than the booze that made the climb slow. I slammed the door behind me, staggered to my rack and crashed. It could have been in a flophouse or a palace, ‘cause I was out cold by the time my head hit the pillow.

When the phone rang again, it took a while to figure out what was making the racket. I groped around with one hand and finally found my phone on the floor. When I picked it up it was backward and I dropped it. When I finally got hold of it, I mumbled angrily.

“What? Do you know what time it is?” I hoped the dick calling me did, ‘cause I had no clue.

“Everett, this is Detective Deeds. You need to come down to the station to see Lieutenant Raven.”

When a cop calls you in the middle of the night it’s always bad. Since I knew Deeds hated my guts, and Lieutenant Anwar Raven, my old commanding officer, wanted my hide, it had to be real bad. I sat up trying to clear my head, but didn’t have much success.

“Oh hi Deeds. How’s my favorite flatfoot? What the hell do you want? Lose your keys? Need me to find ‘em?”

“Very funny wise guy. Your ass is in a grinder now,” he snickered.

“Don’t you know what time it is?” I asked. I still had no idea if I’d slept for an hour or all night. Then I noticed it was dark outside.

“It’s 4:20 in the morning and you’re getting your ass down here right now or I’ll make the pinch myself,” Deeds replied.

“What are you talking about? You peepers are all alike, all mouth and no ears. I asked you why you’re calling me in the middle of the night. I need my beauty rest.”

“You could out snooze Sleeping Beauty and it wouldn’t do you any good. I told you, the lieutenant wants to see you and he wants you here thirty minutes ago.”

Deeds was enjoying this.

“Ok, ok, what’s the rush?” I said hoping he let something slip and knowing he’d never fall for it.

“Never mind that, just get down here pronto, savvy? If you’re not here by five you’ll be in the tank with the other rummies.”

When he clicked off it startled me. I stared at the phone for a few ticks wondering what was so damn important that my old skipper wanted to put the screws to me in the middle of the night. It had to be something important.

I went to the sink and splashed some water on my face. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I did need my beauty sleep. I grabbed the keys to my Honda then thought better of it. Deeds and Logan might be staking out my place to bust me for DUI. I called City Cab and asked for a hack to pick me up in fifteen then headed out the door. I had time for one smoke before the cab pulled up. It wasn’t anyone I knew so I didn’t have to explain what I was doing. “Orange County Sheriff’s Headquarters on Colonial and make it fast,” I said.

“Sure thing buddy,” the driver mumbled as he hit the gas.

I strolled into the Orange County Sheriff’s Department lobby at four fifty-five a.m. and asked the receptionist for Lieutenant Raven.

“Call my lawyer if I’m not out in an hour,” I said. The receptionist didn’t even look up.

When Logan appeared in the lobby doorway I said, “What’s this all about, Logan?” I knew he wouldn’t tell me. He just looked at me with that familiar shit-eating grin on his pudgy face then turned and walked down the hall. He stopped in front of a door, knocked twice, and held the door open for me.

“Good luck, asshole,” Deeds said as I walked past him.

The last time I’d been in Anwar Raven’s office he was a sergeant and my next stop was the county jail. That wasn’t going to happen this time.

“Hi L-T, what’s happening? Congrats on the promotion, who did you frame to get it?”

Surprisingly, he ignored the barb and pressed on.

“Where were you tonight between eleven and four?” Raven said without even looking up.

“Oh fine thanks, lieutenant, and you, yes it has been a long time,” I said. I wasn’t trying to piss him off, but if I did, so much the better.

“Still a smart ass aren’t you Everett?” he said without looking up. “Well, I’ll get you this time.”

“I’m not a smart ass L-T. I point out the obvious and speak fluent sarcasm, that’s all. Yeah, I’m the same smart ass that beat you in court. Whad’ya want, Raven? I’ve got things to do.”

He looked up, his usual sneer pasted on his mug. “I don’t know how you convinced that prosecutor you didn’t kill those two people, but I know you did it.”

“You know better than everyone else and you don’t have any idea how the DNA was planted, the three eye witnesses you ‘forgot’ to interview were wrong and oh by the way someone else has been convicted of that crime. How do you sleep at night,” I shot back. “I still have most of the settlement money, by the way. Maybe if you’re real nice, I’ll buy you a cup of day old cold coffee. Oh and it was very nice of the county to pay for my PI license, my bond and liability insurance.”

Raven was about to burst. “Where were you tonight between eleven and four?” His eyes narrowed, his thick black glasses rode up a bit, and his face turned even redder.

“I think I need my lawyer, mind if I use your phone?”

It took Charlie Ross about forty minutes to get there and he went right in to see Raven. I spent the time examining my cuticles while I sat on a bench in the hall. None of the deputies passing by said anything to me, even the ones who remembered me. I looked up when I heard a door open and Charlie motioned for me to come in.

“The lieutenant has some things to ask you,” Charlie said. “You may answer if you like.”

I looked over at the recorder on the table in the corner and asked, “Is this being recorded or taken down?”

“No damn it. Will you answer a couple simple questions or not?”

Charlie gave me a nod and I said, “Sure Raven, ask away.”

“How do you know Rad Wozninek?” he asked.

That was the last thing I was expecting. I took in a deep breath, looked over at Charlie.

“It’s a simple question. How do you know him?”

“Who says I do?” I shot back, stalling to think.

“You sayin’ you don’t?”

“I’m not saying anything until you tell me what this is all about. You get me out of bed in the middle of the night, drag me down here with no explanation and you expect cooperation?”

“Your business card is in his pocket and your number is the last one dialed from his phone. Was he a client? What are you working on?” Raven pounded his fist on the desk.

“If this person were a client they’d be entitled to secrecy about their business. It’s called professional ethics, lieutenant. I know you don’t have any, but you’ve heard of that concept, right? You know common sense is like deodorant. The people who need it the most use it the least.”

Charlie stifled a chuckle then tried to catch a straight face while Raven did a slow boil. This was too much fun. I hoped it didn’t backfire.

“I’m going to hang you, you smart ass. You were a dirty cop and now I’ve got you in my sights again. We found Wozninek shot to death this morning in the Amway Center parking garage. You’re going down Everett.”

To say I was surprised would have been the understatement of the year. This wasn’t what I’d expected. I looked over at Charlie and he shrugged back.

I tried to keep my composure, “I got home around eleven. The bartender at the Drunk Monk saw me come in. I live over the bar, you remember, don’t you L-T? You tried to get me for that too. Around eleven fifteen two friends came over and stayed until about one.”

“Now I know you’re lying. You don’t have any friends,” Raven spouted. “I’ll need their names.”

“Sure thing L-T, Roscoe Black, and Sgt. Stan Lee, Stan, Roscoe and I served together in Iraq.”

I thought Raven was going to have a stroke, I should be so lucky. When he regained his senses, he asked another question.

“You live downtown. I wouldn’t take you any time to get to the Amway Center. Where’d you go after your buddies left?”

“About one thirty, I went down to the bar and toasted your good health until closing. I went back up to my place about two thirty and went to sleep until your troll called me. A cab picked me up at about four forty and brought me here. The bartender and about twenty people can vouch for my whereabouts.