Doyle McKenzie walked past the desk of Bernice Erickson as if she wasn’t even there. He knocked softly and walked into the chief’s office, closing the door behind him. He began to speak without waiting for any acknowledgment.
“Chief, we need to talk about Plate Boyd. He’s all over my ass on the Suarez shooting. Sawyer’s got him all spun up, filled his head with all kinds of bullshit. He wants me to reopen the Carson murder. Compare it to Danville. Hell, he wants me to drive down there and follow up with the detectives.”
Jorgensen looked up from behind his desk, and McKenzie picked up on the look of annoyance. The chief didn’t hide his irritation.
“You know, Doyle, I’m starting to think you’re in over your head. How is it I go out of my way to be sure you are the lead investigator on this case, and Sawyer, a guy who doesn’t even have a badge, not to mention he is cut off from any official access, somehow does an end run around your ass? How does that happen?”
“I don’t know, boss, I just know that there’s no way Plate is coming up with this shit on his own.”
“Who’s feeding Sawyer information? He’s got to have a source. Did you clean up all the historical bullshit like I told you?”
“Yeah, Chief. It’s dealt with. Harlan Lee never existed in Newberg.”
“Suarez?” Jorgensen asked.
“That’s a problem. I know they’re tight.” McKenzie lowered his voice and proceeded more cautiously. “So, this guy they got hooked up for killing the he-she. He’s hooked into Lee, right?”
“No shit. Is that just coming to you?” Jorgensen closed his eyes and turned away. “Jesus, we do have problems.”
The insult stung, but McKenzie kept going. “What now?”
“Relax. Don’t react. Sawyer is just throwing shit at the wall. Don’t worry about Plate. He’ll lose interest, and Sawyer can’t put it all together on his own.”
“Suarez?” McKenzie asked.
Jorgensen vented his anger.
“I’m tempted to reel that little bitch in. She’s down there palling around with another agency, asking questions tied to an official department investigation. Feeding info to Sawyer. When she gets out of the hospital she’ll be answering to me.” The chief paused. “But the damage is done. Leave her out of it. Keep an eye on Sawyer. Pay a visit or two to his wife. She’ll tip her hand if she knows anything.”
“What about this attorney? This Petite character?”
“Handled,” Jorgensen said. “Let’s just say he saw the wisdom of going with the program. He’s out of play now, and you make damn sure he stays that way. Under no circumstances does Sawyer get a chance to make that connection.”
“All right, Chief.” McKenzie headed for the door. “But you gotta know, this shit is a distraction. We’re losing out on other opportunities, if you know what I mean. I don’t care what happens to that broke-dick Norgaard or his bitch of a daughter. Seems like we could have just let this shit run its course and we’d have been better off.”
“Let’s be clear, Doyle.” McKenzie knew the chief wanted his full attention.
“What’s that, Chief?”
“You serve at my pleasure. All you do, all you get to do, flows from this office. If I say this case is a priority, that’s all you need to hear.”
McKenzie held the man’s eye and wondered if the time had come for some push back. He answered his own question as he turned to leave.
“Whatever you say, Chief. You’re the boss, but there’s money on the street. Until we get clear of this shit, that’s where it’ll stay.”
McKenzie closed the office door as he left. Walking by the desk of Bernice Erickson, he thought he caught the hint of a smile.
“Having a good day, Detective?”
McKenzie grunted in response but gave a last look over his shoulder on his way out the door.