“We picked up a DUI last night you might be interested in,” Sheriff Phillips said.
Freya and Ben were in their office, brainstorming ways to find Stingy. Without him they couldn’t move forward in their investigation. It was clear that control of the drug traffic was concentrating on manufacturers funneling through a single buyer, Stingy.
“Why’s that, Sheriff?” Ben said. The sheriff was standing at the door of their small office. He seemed to fill the entire space.
“We picked him up on Woodlawn, weaving through traffic and running a red light. The guy’s name is Drew Lee.”
They looked at him blankly.
“We ran the name, of course. He has a sheet, mostly for drug possession with intent to sell. I think it’s your man. At least the artist sketch looks like him.”
Freya nearly spewed her coffee. “You have Stingy in custody?” She was incredulous.
“Yeah. His arraignment is this morning. If you want to talk to him I’d do it now. Chances are he’ll be released on bail for the DUI.”
“Holy shit,” Ben said. “How can we be this lucky?”
“Not lucky, but let’s not blow this. We need to bring Morgan or Dunning to pick him out of a lineup. Dunning can leave the hospital for it. I want to make sure we’re talking to the real Stingy.”
She picked up the phone to have a panel assembled, which was going to take some time. Timson County Jail was not brimming with bodies to populate a lineup. It was early afternoon before Dunning looked at the lineup and reluctantly identified Stingy as the man he sold his drugs to. The deputies couldn’t find Morgan.
They waited in the interview room for Stingy. When he arrived, the deputy plunked him down in a chair and handcuffed him to the table. Stingy looked indignant.
“I’m here on a drunk driving charge, not murder one. Can we get rid of the handcuffs?”
Freya looked at Stingy and then up at the deputy. “You can let him loose. We’ll be fine.”
The deputy looked doubtful but did as he was told. Stingy immediately crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Ben and Freya. He was a chubby man with thick, soft forearms, a double chin, and white teeth gleaming through his sardonic smile. He wasn’t a user of his product from the looks of it, but he was a bit rough from his night in jail. “What’s this about?”
“You go by the name of Stingy, correct?” asked Freya.
“That’s what you’ve been told, apparently. I’ve never answered to the name.” He was relaxed, as if it was Freya who had the problem, not him.
“This is going to go more smoothly for you if you tell the truth. You were picked out of a lineup.”
He continued to stare but said nothing.
Ben leaned toward him. “You’re a person of interest in an investigation of ours. If you cooperate, we can probably make this DUI disappear.”
“You haven’t asked me a question yet.”
Ben jumped the gun with that offer. Now they looked more desperate for his cooperation. Freya sounded casual as she looked at Stingy. “Our witness, who identified you in the lineup, says he sells meth exclusively to you.”
“And who might that be?”
“We’ll keep that name to ourselves. Who do you work for?”
Stingy looked insulted again. “You’re saying I sell meth? Please.”
“What is it you do for work?” Ben said.
Stingy hesitated for the first time. “I have some family money. I’m between careers at the moment.”
“You know how easy that is to check, don’t you? Freya said. “What work did you do, then?”
“I was a manager at the AutoZone. I quit a few months ago.”
“I believe that following your career with AutoZone you signed up with some meth manufacturers to be their middleman. That would be a lot more lucrative a career, wouldn’t it?”
Stingy looked relaxed. “Undoubtedly. But I wouldn’t know. As I said, I don’t have any work at the moment and I don’t know anything about meth manufacturers”
“We’ve looked at your sheet, Stingy. There’re several arrests for possession of fairly substantial quantities of drugs.” Freya said.
“Yes, but what kind of drugs? Marijuana is a far cry from meth.”
“But you would have had contact with someone who sold you the pot,” Ben said.
“True. But it was a long time ago.”
“From your sheet it looks like your last arrest was two years ago and your probation ended a few months ago.”
“Two years is forever in that business. I’m sure I don’t know anyone who’s out there now.”
They spent the next half hour asking the same question in a variety of ways, and still Stingy would not admit to any association with drug dealing, despite being identified by a witness. An unreliable witness. He didn’t ask to lawyer up. They decided not to charge him at the time. He would have to stay in the area to deal with the drunk driving charge. They returned to their office.
“That got us nothing,” Ben said.
“One of us needs to get over to court to see what happens at his arraignment. The other should be ready to tail him when he leaves. We have an address for his current residence, but I don’t think that’s the first place he’ll go.”
“I’ll take the car,” Ben said.
Of course, Ben would take the fun part. Freya didn’t argue and walked over to the courthouse. She couldn’t hope to run into Clare because she knew she was downstate taking depositions. She’d been thinking about her a lot. There wasn’t any other interpretation for how things were on Monday night at Abe’s. They were flirting, they were getting to know each other on a deeper level, they were moving in one direction. It appeared Jo was right about Clare—whether she knew it or not, she was into women. Freya wasn’t in the business of converting straight women, but she couldn’t turn away from the energy between the two of them. It was as tangible as the gun on her belt.
When Stingy was released on bail, Freya called Ben to give him the heads up and returned to the office to ask the sheriff for a surveillance team. She could only hope he might lead them to a meeting with his employers.
“I was just going to call you,” Sheriff Phillips said when she entered his office.
“Oh, yeah? What’s up?”
“Some kids snowmobiling outside of town found a body. The first deputy on the scene recognized him. It was that Morgan fellow you picked up.”
Freya sank into a chair. “We knew it could happen, but I didn’t think it really would. How’d they find him?”
“Said they were taking a rest on the trail out at the state park. The body was lying right off the trail, uncovered.”
“Whoever did it wanted the body to be found.”
“Looks that way,” the sheriff said. “They’re taking it to the medical examiner now. The deputy said he’d been shot once in the chest and once in the face.”
“The shooter was sending a message—this is what happens if you talk to the cops. It’s got to be the drug cartel.”
“I’d say so.” He leaned back in his chair. “We’re not used to any kind of murder here, let alone one involving drug cartels.”
“This tells us a lot about what we’re up against. We’ve got Dunning in lockup, which is fortunate for him. I don’t like his chances once he gets into the prison system.”
The sheriff gave her a rotation of deputies to keep an eye on Stingy, who might also be under threat. Freya left to contemplate the radically changed landscape of her investigation. Things had become darker, more urgent. She called her boss to request more people, but he couldn’t pull anyone off any of the other local task forces. That left her Ben, Sheriff Phillips, and his deputies. It would have to do.
* * *
Thomas stepped into Clare’s office for their meeting on the Peterson summary judgement motion. She’d given him the task of assembling all the current evidence and writing it up in a memorandum. She concentrated on the legal issues but had overall responsibility for both projects. She’d been working long hours to get everything done by Elizabeth’s deadline, but lost precious time when she spent the entire day in Carbondale taking the rest of the depositions at the lagoon company, which had corroborated what John Lyons had testified to. Now she was eager to get back to the brief.
He handed her an outline of the memorandum and she read it thoroughly while he sat there.
“Has your name come up yet in the pro bono wheel of fortune?” he said.
She looked up. “What are you talking about?”
“The county can’t afford staff defense attorneys so they tag all of us in turn to represent the pro bono cases.”
“Great. I hope my name doesn’t come up in the next two weeks.”
“It’ll happen soon, I’m sure. I caught one yesterday and it was kind of interesting. This guy got picked up Tuesday night on a DUI and it turns out he’s a person of interest in that drug investigation Freya and Ben are conducting.”
That got her attention. “Did he give anything up?”
“I wasn’t with him for the initial interview, but he told me later he didn’t know anything about what they were asking him. I saw him through the DUI arraignment, and they cut him loose.”
She’d have to ask Henry who this man was. If he knew anything that could bust Henry and the others it would be bad news for her. There wouldn’t be any other drug connections she could hope to make.
“Did you talk to Freya about it?”
“There’s nothing I could say to Freya and she’s not likely to tell me what they plan to do with Stingy.”
“Stingy?”
“It’s his stage name.”
She reached for her cold cup of coffee. “It sounds like you pulled a pretty easy case. Does that mean your name is off the wheel for a period of time?”
“Yeah. You go off for a month once you’ve handled a case. I’m clear for a while.”
She worked the rest of the day wondering if she should call Henry or not. He and the others would like to know about Stingy being arrested, if they hadn’t heard already. She knew he hadn’t talked and that was valuable information. It might save a life, too. If they thought Stingy talked to the police, she guessed Stingy would be eliminated. That’s how things worked in the movies, anyway. They couldn’t afford to have a witness against them. When the office emptied out at five, she placed a call to Henry.
“Clare! A phone call from Clare. I’m pinching myself.”
“Don’t get too excited,” she said dryly.
“What can I do for you? Wait, you’re probably calling about the speed shipment. I’m supposed to hear something today, so why don’t you plan to stop by here tomorrow. I’ll fix you up.”
She was relieved. She’d taken her last two speed tablets that morning. Things were at the crisis point. “I’m glad to hear it, but I called about something else.”
“Lay it on me.”
“Do you know a guy named Stingy?”
There was silence on the other end of the line. “Henry?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I heard he’d been picked up on a DUI and was interrogated about drug activity in the area.”
“That’s interesting. How do you know that?”
She chose her words carefully. “I have sources. I’m in a position to know what happens in the legal community.”
“That’s interesting, too. Do you know if this Stingy told the police anything?”
“I can tell you that, but I want something in exchange. If I keep you informed on what I hear on my end, I want to be released from representing Ray.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible. We consider you an important part of our operation. Your counsel will be valuable.” She didn’t respond.
“Tell me what Stingy did or did not say,” Henry said.
“If I’m a part of your organization, you can’t continue to blackmail me. Threats don’t make for loyal associates.” She hoped he could hear the steel in her voice.
“I can’t unknow what I already know about you, but I don’t intend to use the information. I’ll chose to believe your participation is voluntary.”
That left the landscape essentially as before. The cost of crossing them was too high. She didn’t want to lose everything she had in Money Creek. She loved her work. And there was Freya. She could imagine her reaction on learning Clare was a drug user. That relationship would be over before it even started.
“He didn’t say anything,” she said. “You should let the others know right away so Stingy doesn’t get killed. I don’t doubt they would off him.”
“We’ve heard from Stingy today, as it turns out. But your corroboration is very useful.”
“Why didn’t you say that? And you wonder why I don’t warm up to you,” Clare said.
“You will, I’m sure of it. Come by here tomorrow after work. You’ll like me much better then.”
They hung up. An unseen hand pressed down on her shoulders, keeping her in place so she wouldn’t explode from too much pressure. But there were glimmers of good news. Her work, Freya, the resupply of her stash. She’d try to concentrate on those. Freya was coming over for dinner. She should have been nervous about it, but there was no room for it at the moment. She left the office to get groceries for the meal.
* * *
Clare put some chicken and vegetables in the oven to roast, trying to time it so it would be ready about half an hour after Freya arrived at seven. She changed out of her work clothes but had a hard time figuring out what to wear. Was this a date? How did you dress for a date with a woman? It seemed it should be different than with men, though she hadn’t gone on dates with men so much as ended up with them at parties or a bar. That was far less stressful than a formal date. Was the excitement in her chest anxiety or anticipation? She put on jeans and her asymmetrical knit top that dressed things up a bit. Her Dansko clogs made her an inch taller.
Freya arrived on time carrying two bottles of Perrier. She could feel the message behind the choice of drink. She wanted to see if Clare was comfortable not drinking. Of course, she was. Two Valiums and she was fine with it. She took the bottles from Freya and invited her in.
“What a great place,” Freya said. “It’s so comfortable looking.” She followed Clare into the kitchen. Smoke was starting to seep out of the oven, so Clare turned on the vent fan. It roared to life, making it harder to speak.
“Don’t worry,” Clare said. “It’s roasting, not burning.”
“I wasn’t worried at all.” Freya smiled at her and Clare thought it was the greatest smile she’d ever seen. She made their drinks and led her into the living room, sitting at her usual spot on one end of the couch while Freya sat on the other. It was a long couch.
“I heard about what happened to you.” Thomas had told Clare about the meth lab bust and Freya’s shooting of the two men there. “Is that the first time you’ve killed someone in the line of duty?”
“How did you hear about that?” Freya asked.
“You know how it is here. Someone in my office told me. I don’t know how he heard. I’m surprised you didn’t mention it the other night.”
Freya looked at her hands in her lap. “It’s not the sort of thing I’d bring up. I’m not proud of myself.”
“How are you feeling about it?” Clare imagined it felt horrible to have killed someone, but she was a bit dazzled by the thought of Freya in a gun battle. It was beyond her comprehension. She’d always wondered how brave she’d be if put to the test. Not very brave was her guess.
“I’m mostly fine. We’re trained for these situations. Two men pulled guns on me and I shot them. They were clean hits. Considering I would have been shot dead if I hadn’t fired makes me okay with what happened.”
Clare quit staring at Freya long enough to pick up her drink. Her eyes fell on a spot on the floor in the middle of the couch where her pillbox was poking out. She resisted the urge to shove it back under, which would only draw Freya’s attention. Instead, she reached for her drink and moved a little closer to the middle of the couch.
“I’m glad you like the place,” she said, meeting Freya’s eyes and slowly pushing the box under the couch with her foot. “I’ve grown to love it.”
There was a definite static in the air as they talked about banal things like the weather and the party at Elizabeth’s house that Sunday and how much work they both had. Clare put dinner on, the smell of the herbs and lemon filled the kitchen.
“Would you like some wine?” Clare asked.
“No, I’m good with the water. School night and all that.”
“Right. I won’t bother opening a bottle. I’ve got a big day tomorrow too. They’re all big days.” Not that that had ever stopped her from opening a bottle.
After dinner they moved back to the couch, both of them sitting slightly closer to the middle than before. Clare ate her slice of cherry pie, suddenly much more nervous than before. She couldn’t imagine what would happen next. Or she could imagine it, but it made her stomach clench.
Freya drank her coffee and then put the mug down. They were silent, conversation gone, air heavy. “I have to ask you something.”
Clare’s head snapped up from her pie plate. “You do?”
“This sort of thing isn’t easy. I’m nervous as hell.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t ask.”
Freya hesitated a moment. “I have to. I know you’ve told me you’re straight, but I’m wondering if that’s really how you identify. I feel a connection between the two of us. Am I imagining things?”
Her body suffused with some chemical—the one that made her elated and terrified at the same time. She could dodge the question, but she found she wanted to be honest. “No, I feel it too. I don’t know what that makes me. All I know is what I feel now.”
Freya smiled and reached for Clare’s hand. “Tell me more.”
She stared at the hand holding hers, the long slender fingers wrapped around her own. “I have slept with a woman before.” She didn’t remember a thing about that night a few weeks earlier, but there must have been some part of her that thought sleeping with a woman would be a good thing to do, even in a blackout.
“You have? That changes everything.” Freya looked relieved. “Now I don’t have to feel so responsible.”
“Responsible for what? I’m a big girl, you know.”
“You’re right. Maybe it’s arrogance on my part to feel responsible for your first experience.”
They were silent for a minute. “Maybe we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Clare said.
Freya flushed. “Good point.” She let go of her hand and Clare felt the absence of it. They both reached for their coffee and stared at each other over their mugs.
Clare started to relax, the Valium working its magic. She put her coffee down. “Now what happens?”
“This is the part where I come close and kiss you, if you’ll allow me.”
She nodded, her eyes wide open. She watched as Freya scootched toward her and stopped when they were half an arm’s length away. “Oh, God,” Clare said. Freya leaned toward her and kissed her gently on the lips, pulling away to see how she reacted. Clare put her arm around Freya’s back and pulled her into a more serious kiss, one that lasted a long time. They leaned against the back of the couch and made out for a while. Clare could feel arousal, unmistakable and strong. When Freya moved her mouth to her throat she gasped. Would it be slutty to ask Freya into her bedroom? Were women generally slower to jump into bed?
Freya pulled back from her. “We either have to stop or move to a bed. My body is getting out of control.”
So, not slutty. Clare rose from the couch and took Freya by the hand. “Let me show you the bedroom.”
She closed the door behind her, locking out everything she’d known before, anxious for what was to come. Her own drug use and her involvement with drug dealers were not insignificant things when falling in love with a cop. But caution had no chance against desire.