Steve sits at his desk, the phone to his ear. The world below glints gold with the rising morning sun. It figures, the single time he turns his back on the law, it comes back to haunt him.
Dr. Richard Raynes, brother of the woman he loves, has anointed himself supreme righter of wrongs. He scoffs. Dick is either going to end up in prison or get himself killed.
A bus wheezes to a stop below, and he watches as people disembark then as others climb on board.
The on-hold music that’s supposed to be soothing is giving him a headache. The sad truth is he likes Dick. He’s exactly as Denise described—sweet, shy, awkward, and trying hard to do right by her and Jesse.
The Enterprise Rent-A-Car administrator comes back on the line. “Four hundred and seventeen miles,” she says, and Steve sighs out heavily and thanks her.
Dick drove over four hundred miles during his three days in Las Vegas when he was supposed to be at a conference.
He takes the elevator to the basement and waits for a clerk to retrieve the Parsons file. He removes the DNA analysis on the sweat from the sliding door and delivers it along with a longneck beer bottle he took from Denise’s. The chain of evidence won’t hold up in court, but the Parsons case isn’t going to court. This is for personal confirmation.
Steve scans the Las Vegas papers from the time Dick was there for other crimes that could possibly be attributed to him and is relieved not to find any. Next, he looks at the papers for Irvine, California, where Dick lives. There’s a horrible story about a little boy who was molested then cut up and discarded in a suitcase at a dump, and another about a twelve-year-old girl who was raped inside her home, but there are no crimes against past felons that he can find.
He’d like to believe Dick is done, the Las Vegas incident an anomaly, and that he’s gotten it out of his system. But Steve’s gut tells him otherwise. Dick doesn’t strike him as an impulsive person. As a matter of fact, he seems the opposite, a man measured and deliberate, which means he made the calculated choice to pursue Shea, and Steve doesn’t imagine it was a one-time deal.
The question is why. Otis he understands. It was personal. But Dick had no connection to Shea.
Over the years, Steve has encountered his share of zealots, those who feel so strongly about a cause they’re willing to risk everything for those beliefs. Dick doesn’t seem that passionate. If anything, he comes off apathetic, a bit melancholy, and almost bored. He cares about his work and the project he’s working on. He likes baseball and coaches his son’s team. And that’s about it. Vigilante crusader just doesn’t fit.
* * *
“Steve.”
He swivels from the window to see his boss, Mitch Gelson, standing in front of his desk. Steve is seated, but they’re still almost eye-to-eye. Five-feet-flat, the man attempts to make up for his lack of stature with shoe inserts, fastidious grooming, and an abrasive personality.
“Mitch.”
Neither extends their hand. It isn’t often Steve sees Gelson. While technically Gelson is Steve’s boss—a formality Gelson relishes and Steve ignores—the man has nothing to do with what Steve does.
Gelson drops a sheet of paper on Steve’s desk and, in a baritone voice that belies its weedy source, says, “Make this go away. And remember, we’re the good guys.”
“I’ll take a look at it,” Steve says, setting the paper aside without a glance.
“It needs to be looked at now,” Gelson says, remaining in front of Steve’s desk.
With a sigh, Steve slides the sheet in front of him, thinking he was right when he was in charge and rejected Gelson each time he came up for promotion.
“I want an update by the end of the day,” Gelson says and, with a military heel turn, marches away.
Steve’s about to set the paper back in his inbox when he sees the name at the top. The case was a while ago, but Steve remembers it. Diego Ramirez was convicted of raping a six-year-old, the rape so brutal the girl needed a hysterectomy. According to the report, Ramirez was released two weeks ago.
He dials the number listed, and a clipped voice picks up. “Captain Goh here.”
“Hello, Captain. This is Agent Patterson with the FBI. I’m calling in regard to Diego Ramirez.”
Silence.
“Captain?”
“I’m here.”
“You’ve been named in a lawsuit filed by Mr. Ramirez against the Santa Ana Police Department for harassment.”
The line buzzes empty between them.
“Captain Goh?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Are you harassing him?”
“We’re keeping an eye on him.”
“It says here that you’ve been following him and that your officers have been hassling him.”
“I don’t know of any misconduct by my officers.”
“Captain, Mr. Ramirez has rights. Without probable cause, he needs be allowed to go about his business and should be treated the same as any other citizen.”
“He’s not any other citizen,” Goh hisses. “Ramirez is a child-raping bastard who’s going to hurt more children if we don’t do our job.”
“Our job is to uphold the law.”
“Our job is to protect society.”
“We do that by following the law.”
“Yeah, well in this case, the law is wrong.”
Steve takes a steeling breath.
“I was the first officer to arrive at the scene of that little girl’s rape,” Goh says. “I thought she was dead there was so much blood, this little blond girl lying on this red-soaked floor.”
The words heavy, Steve says, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” Goh says. “Because now I’m in charge, and the bastard’s back, and this time, I can do something about it.”
“No,” Steve says. “You can’t.”
“A lawsuit’s not going to stop me.”
“Maybe not. But I am.”
“The feds?”
“It’s my job.”
“What’s your job?”
“To make sure released offenders’ rights are protected and that they have a chance to return to society.” Though he’s said the words a thousand times with conviction, they come out hollow.
“That’s bull, and you know it. Ramirez is not going to return to society in any way that’s good.”
“That’s not for us to decide. He did his time. He gets his chance.”
“At what price? The price of another Ally? Another ten Allys?”
“I hope none.”
“Well, your hope isn’t good enough.”
“Captain, you need to back off.”
“Are we done?”
“You might not like it, but Diego Ramirez has rights, and you need to abide by them. If you don’t, it will be you, not him, defending yourself in court.”
“And what about the next little girl who ends up his victim?”
“You won’t be doing her much good if you lose your job.”
A beat of silence and Goh hangs up. Steve blows out a breath, his head pounding like there’s a sledgehammer between his ears, moments like these impossible to reconcile with the reason he chose to do this.