The ride back to the precinct took less than five minutes. The lights and siren helped. Sam pulled the car around back and pulled into a spot near the rear entrance. We walked to the building at a pace close to a jog. I grabbed the door and waited for Sam to go in. Bridget stopped short.
“It’s okay that I come in?” she asked. The wind whipped loose strands of hair across her face. She reached up and tucked them behind her right ear.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” I extended my free hand and gestured for her to go in.
She nodded, smiled and stepped inside. I followed close behind while Sam led the way to Homicide. The halls were buzzing with activity. Pretty normal for the station. We entered Homicide through the door closest to Huff’s glass walled office. The sight within those walls gave reason for concern.
“What’s he doing here?” Sam asked.
“Who is it?” Bridget asked, craning her neck to get a better look.
“That’s Chief Warren,” I said.
“Mitch and Warren don’t get along too well,” Sam said. “No good can come from him being here.”
I took a few steps back and took a seat on top of my desk, allowing me to keep an eye on Huff’s office. Along with Warren, Huff was meeting with the Lieutenant in charge of Major Crimes. Townsend was his name. I had a sinking feeling that we were about to get the proverbial rug pulled out from under our feet.
“Let’s go talk to McCree,” I said.
“You sure?” Sam asked. “Huff sounded serious.”
“When did you become the type to follow orders so easily?”
Sam shrugged and waved me off. He looked like a debutante swatting away a fly.
“He’s busy. If he thinks he can keep us waiting, he can wait, too.”
We left through the exit at the other end of the room. It was a short walk to interrogation. The long hallway had doors on one side and a solid cinder block wall on the other. We entered from the high end. Half of the twelve rooms were occupied. A mixture of faces stared blankly at the mirrored glass or at the cop in the room with them. I knew one thing for sure. They all proclaimed their innocence.
I spotted Laura Weaver, the student teacher, in room four. Room three was empty. Ben McCree waited inside room two. Fairchild leaned back against the glass partition, arms folded across his chest.
“What the hell is he doing in there?” I said. “We should’ve had first crack at this guy.”
“Want to question the girl?” Sam asked.
“No,” I said. “I want to talk to McCree, but that jerk snaked him from us.”
Sam maneuvered in front of me. His wide frame blocked my view of the room. “Listen, Mitch. No matter what you think of those guys, we’re all on the same team. You go making waves and you’re going to get traded. Busted down. Is that what you want?”
I knew his words made sense, but I didn’t care. “What I want is to interview our suspect, Sam. Are you with me or not?”
Sam took a deep breath, reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Mitch—”
“Let’s kick him out.” It came from Bridget.
I looked back at her with my left eyebrow arched. Perhaps I could get away with removing Fairchild from the room if Bridget took responsibility for it. After all, she was in charge now. This was the FBI’s case, not ours. I started forward. Sam slid over to block my path. Then he muttered something under his breath and stepped aside. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen.
“It’s Huff,” he said.
“Guess we should start back,” I said.
Sam hung up and confirmed that Huff wanted us in his office now. We walked back the way we came. The halls still buzzed with energy. I still fumed over the fact that I hadn’t gotten the chance to question McCree. I hoped the opportunity would arise after meeting with Huff. If Bridget wouldn’t make the argument, I would.
We turned the final corner and nearly collided with Chief Warren.
“Chief,” I said.
“Detectives,” he said, stepping around us. The look on his face could be classified as disdain. He didn’t stop and make small talk. Fine by me.
Huff was waiting for us outside his office. The entire room was empty otherwise. Even Old Man Flores, who typically remained perched behind a desk answering the phone all day, was out.
“Come on in, guys,” he said.
Sam stepped into the office first and sat down. I took the seat next to him. The door closed behind me. I glanced back and saw Bridget standing. I rose and offered her my chair.
“No thanks,” she said. “I’ll stand.”
I nodded and sat back down. “What is it, Huff?”
He refused to make eye contact with us. Instead, he stared at his desk calendar. He held a number two pencil in his hand and doodled in the space underneath September twenty-eighth.
“Huff?” I said.
“Warren wants Major Crimes to take over the case since it involves homicide and kidnapping.”
“Shit,” I said.
Sam agreed.
Huff continued, “They think that they can push back on the Feds by doing so.”
“Who’s they?” Bridget asked. Her movement created a breeze that blew past me carrying a lavender scent. She placed one hand on my shoulder and aimed the other one at Huff.
“Mayor Piolazzi and the Chief.”
“Like hell,” Bridget fumed. “You tell them they can—”
Huff held up his hands. “Not my battle, Agent Dinapoli. You’ll need to take it up with your chain of command. I’m sure they can pull the right strings, if those strings exist. It’s all posturing. I’m aware of that. But no matter what happens here on out, it doesn’t change this next fact.” He leaned back in his chair, interlaced his fingers behind his head and stared at a spot in between me and Sam.
“Which is?” I asked after a prolonged moment of silence.
He snapped forward and placed both elbows on his desk. His gaze flicked between both of us. “You two are off the case.”
“Who ordered this?” I demanded.
“It comes from Warren.” He sounded subdued.
“Yeah, but who told him to do this?”
Huff shrugged. “No telling. Could be the Mayor, could be that prick Townsend.”
I had no reason to believe that Lieutenant Townsend was behind this. I’d never had any run-ins with him and couldn’t think of any reason why he’d want me off the case. That only left two people. Either of them could have been behind it. Huff or the Mayor. For all his misgivings, Huff wasn’t that bad of a guy. We disagreed at times, but things worked out. The Mayor on the other hand, let’s just say words had been spoken in the past and there’d been no kiss and make up session.
“This is garbage, Huff,” Sam said. “We’re the two best detectives you’ve got. We’re better than any of those jackasses in Major Crimes. We’re already vested in this, too.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Huff rose out of his chair and slapped his desk with an open palm. His face was red and veins stuck out of his neck and on the side of his forehead. His voice had risen by a couple decibels. “Dammit, I fought them tooth and nail just now to keep you guys on.” After several seconds of heavy panting, he returned to his chair. His head drifted to the right. The window there gave him a view of the rear parking lot. I noticed five pigeons sitting on top of my car.
I had a feeling he wasn’t through. In as gentle a tone as I could muster, I asked, “What else, Huff?”
His head turned toward us, moving slower than before. He glanced at me, then Sam, then Bridget. He stopped on her. I would have too.
“I know there’s something else,” I said.
“They’re keeping Horace and Fairchild on board.” His gaze remained fixed on Bridget.
That must’ve been why Fairchild was in there with McCree. This had been determined some time ago, otherwise they would have waited until after the Chief had left. I wondered if the Chief in Huff’s office had been a show for our sake. Something to make us feel a little better.
Or perhaps to redirect our anger.
I thought about raising the point, but bit my tongue. The truth would come out in time.
“I expect you guys to have a report turned in by the end of the day detailing the investigation up to this point,” Huff said.
I stood and leaned over his desk, stopping when my face was mere inches from his. “You smell, Huff.” With that, I turned and left the office. I heard someone come after me. The delicate touch on my shoulder told me that someone was not Sam. I didn’t look back.
“Mitch,” Bridget said. “I’m going to do everything I can to get you back on board.”
“They might negotiate you out of this, too,” I said, staring down at the floor.
“They’ve got no reason to do that.”
I looked over my shoulder, at her, then at Huff’s office. “You’re giving them one right now.”
She smiled and turned around. A moment later she was on the other side of the bureaucratic barrier. Sam rose and left the room as she took a seat. He walked toward me, shaking his head.
“This is ridiculous, man,” he said.
“Don’t have to tell me.”
Escalated voices erupted from inside Huff’s office. His face turned red again. He rose, sat, then rose again. Fingers pointed in all directions. Knocked down and dragged out. I hoped that I’d have both of them on my side when the time came. I sure as hell didn’t plan to give this case up without a fight.
I reached inside my desk drawer for my keys. They were on top of the folder containing Dusty Anne Miller’s pictures from the crime scene. It seemed like years since that happened. I remembered that the autopsy was to take place in a few hours. Perhaps I’d attend.
As I started toward the door, Sam said, “Where you going?”
“To the hospital to check on Lana. Then probably to my mother’s to see how Ella’s doing. I’ll get in touch with you at some point.”
I expected him to try to tag along. He didn’t. “Okay.”
I exited the room near Huff’s office. I stopped in front of the window and stared at him for a moment. He glanced over at me, then looked away.
Chicken.
I’d almost made it through the building to the exit when I saw Fairchild approaching. He had a smug look on his face. Not unusual for the guy. But this time there was something more behind it. He had advanced knowledge of what went down. He got within a few feet of me and said, “Say hello to that girlfriend of yours for me, Tanner.”
The look on his face and the sound of his voice and the words that he used caused me to snap. I reached over, grabbed him by the shirt and nailed him with a right cross.