12

 

 

I stopped at the library on my way home, using the computer there to search the Internet for news accounts of the Marie Brassart case. I didn’t bother reading the entries, instead printing them off to take with me. Harrity was paying expenses, and I liked the feel of paper.

After an hour, I was already yawning and flexing my left knee. The creak and pop of the old injury sounded like gunfire in the quiet library.

After almost two hours, I rubbed my tired eyes, picked up my short stack of print outs and headed home. I tossed the case file and my research onto the small kitchen table and grabbed a cola from the fridge, ignoring the Kokanee next to it. Then I plopped into the chair and stared at the pile of paper in front of me. It was only then that I wondered if I’d made a mistake.

Harrity was essentially asking me to solve a murder case that the police had already worked, and presumably solved. And to do it without access to the case file.

Only he wasn’t really asking, was he? He was paying.

I glanced around my small apartment. I’d become used to Spartan surroundings. It was all I could afford on my small medical pension. But over time, I’d come to realize that it was enough.

That didn’t mean the extra money wouldn’t be nice. The brakes on my Toyota had been squealing for months. Maybe it was just dust or maybe they were toast, but with the money Harrity was paying, I could afford to find out.

So why did I feel so strange about this?

The stack of papers on the kitchen table didn’t give me an answer. Neither did the cold bite of the soda from the can.

Maybe it felt different because Harrity was hiring me, instead of the other way around.

No, that didn’t feel right.

Maybe I didn’t want to step into the role of investigator again. It wasn’t something I’d ever been comfortable with in the first place.

No, that wasn’t it, either.

I tapped the bottom of the can on the table, watching the condensation grab onto the wooden surface in beads. I stared at the limpid droplets, and I pushed just a little harder.

And then it was clear to me.

Harrity said he hired me because I was a good investigator. But he could find that in a score of others in River City. The real reason he chose me was because I would…do what was necessary, even if it was unorthodox.

Which meant potentially illegal.

Harrity hired me because he believed I wouldn’t balk at crossing the line if I thought it was the right thing to do.

I wasn’t sure I liked that assessment.

I took another sip of cola, wishing it was beer. Then another. I kept sipping and thinking about that until the can was empty. And then, so I didn’t drink one of those Kokanees, I left the stack of papers on the kitchen table and went to get a late breakfast with Clell.

 

 

“It’s kind of odd,” Clell said, pouring coffee from the carafe.

We were at Jenny’s Café, only a few blocks from the building he guarded most Saturdays, a structure that housed everything from investment firms to call centers. He had to be to work in less than an hour but he didn’t seemed rushed.

I lifted my own cup and sipped. The taste made me smile.

“Maxwell House.”

He smiled back and lifted his cup in a toast. “Yup. Since you bought me that first can, I’m ruined. Can’t go back to the bargain brand. And I can’t find any other place downtown that serves it.”

“I’ll make sure not to introduce you to anything fancy. It might crush your savings account.”

“Appreciate that.”

“So you think the job’s odd?”

Clell shrugged. His sharp mustache didn’t droop over his lips so much as it stood guard. He’d lost a few pounds in the last couple of months but his belly still pushed against the light blue security uniform. “I don’t know as I’d say that. I mean, I guess I can understand where the fella is coming from. On the one hand, you wouldn’t want your friend’s wife to go to prison for something she didn’t do, right? But on the other hand, you certainly wouldn’t want to defend the person that killed your friend, either. So I get him wanting to know.”

“So do I. Then what’s odd?”

“Well, to be honest, the odd part is your reaction.”

I cocked my head at him. “My reaction?”

“Yup.”

“How so?”

He took another drink of coffee, watching me. Then he said, “Look, Stef. I know I ain’t known you for years and years. But I count you as a friend, and the Good Lord knows there ain’t many in this world I count that way. And I always figure that what a friend does most is tell the truth.”

I didn’t answer, but the throbbing pain in my jaw made me realize I’d been clenching it. I unclenched and felt the tension and the pain dissipate. “And the truth is?”

“The truth is, he’s right. Since I’ve known you, I count four times you’ve helped someone out by investigating something. Four cases. Does that sound about right?”

I thought it over, ticking them off on my fingers. “Matt and his daughter. The hockey player. Monique.”

“And Cassie,” Clell said.

I felt my jaw clench again. The small pain flared up once more. “Yeah, and her. So?”

Clell didn’t seemed bothered by my reaction. “So, look what you’ve done every single time.”

“I did the best I could. That’s what I did.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he agreed. “And near as I can tell, your heart was in the right place, too.”

“It was.”

“And, to be fair, in most of those situations, you got good results.”

“Not great results, though.”

“Maybe not great, and maybe not in every case, but I think it’s fair to say that people who needed your help were better off after you got involved than they were before you came along.”

“I hope so.”

“From what you told me, I think they were. But, Stef, here’s the thing. You broke the law. In some way, large or small, you broke the law in each and every case.”

“Not every time,” I protested automatically.

“Yes, you did. Every single time.”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I thought about each instance. I walked through the events in my mind, hoping he was wrong.

He wasn’t.

“Christ,” I muttered. “I’m an unlicensed, sleazy investigator.”

“That’s not true, either,” Clell said. “From what you told me, you had the best of intentions in every one of those cases. You weren’t hiding in bushes taking pictures of some guy having an affair. You were trying to help people.”

I thought about that for a minute, too. Then I nodded. “You’re right.”

“I know. I wasn’t asking you if I was right. I was telling you what I know.”

“Coffee makes you a little testy.”

He shook his head. “I’m not being testy. I just think people should understand who they are, that’s all.”

“I’m the guy that breaks the law,” I said, letting a little sarcasm seep into my voice. “Which makes me a criminal, by definition.”

Clell snorted. “Bull puckey. You’re a good man, Stef.”

I wanted to believe his words. “I read somewhere that man is what he repeatedly does.”

“Now you’re getting all philosophical on me.”

“Hey, you started it.”

Clell smoothed his mustache, then shrugged. “You might be right. Look, I think the reality is that you’ve ended up in some bad situations in your life. Maybe more than most folks. And I’ll even grant that some of those situations might be partially of your own doing. But instead of giving up, you do what’s necessary to get the right thing done. That’s how I see it, anyway.”

“So you’re saying the ends justify the means?”

“We can kick that idea around over another cup of coffee if you want. But you’re missing my point. I’m just telling you who I see in front of me.”

“A good man.” The sarcasm in my voice was unmistakable.

“It’s who you are,” Clell said, ignoring my tone. “And who you are is why this lawyer picked you for this case.”

“But why?” I asked. “Why would he think there’d be a need to cross a line in this case? Or that when I got to that line, I’d cross it.”

Clell took a sip of his coffee, regarding me. “I think I already answered your second question. But the first?” He shrugged. “Maybe he’s just being cautious. Maybe he’s one of those guys that prepares for the worst.”

I chewed on that for a long while, along with the rest of my breakfast. After that, we drank the remainder of our coffee in silence. When I’d finished mine, I counted out enough cash for the bill and a tip, clapped Clell on the shoulder and limped out of the restaurant.