4

Dusk was falling when Maggie heard Sgt. Doug Earl’s voice on the radio.

She was at the station refilling her to-go cup with coffee. She had a long night in front of her. Someone had called in sick and Maggie had been the first officer to respond that she’d take the overtime and work a double. It wasn’t her night to visit Melody and she needed the money. Besides, she had nothing better to do anyway.

Sgt. Earl, a gruff veteran cop, was the only other officer on duty.

If all hell broke loose, she was counting on him to take charge.

The sergeant’s voice was relaxed, even blasé, as he checked in with Kim in dispatch.

“This is Unit 480 checking suspicious circ at city limits on Danville Road.”

Danville Road was a narrow road that wound its way up the canyon from Apple Valley to Sanctuary City.

She had driven down Danville Road once with Hendricks. He’d told her that when fall arrived, it wasn’t unusual to spot glints of metal peeking out of the thinning foliage—cars containing decomposed bodies. Danville Road was directly below Lookout Point.

During her rookie-training week, Hendricks had been assigned to show Bychowski around. On the third night, he pulled to the shoulder of Lookout Point. Maggie gave an uneasy laugh. In the academy, she’d heard rumors that Hendricks was a major player. An affair with a coworker was the last thing she needed to complicate her life. He was off limits.

“Nice view,” she’d said, hoping her nervousness wasn’t betrayed in her voice. The sun was setting in the distance. A few other cars were parked on the broad dirt shoulder. Lookout Point was halfway down the ridge between Sanctuary City and Apple Valley below. On the other side of the dirt shoulder was a steep drop off.

Hendricks opened his door and gestured she should follow.

“You’re about to see what we locals like to call the Little Grand Canyon,” he said.

He led her to the edge of the cliff. She jumped back a little as his boot kicked some loose rocks that went tumbling down into the canyon some 800 feet below.

Residents of Sanctuary chose Lookout Point as their favored suicide spot, he said. Drivers stepped on the gas and instead of navigating the highway’s turn, held the steering wheel straight and flew off the cliff into eternity.

An icy dread raced down Maggie’s spine as she looked into the endless space that seemed to go on forever. Across the canyon, she could see the curve of the other side of the ridge. In between was a chasm of nothingness.

She was certain that some people must have changed their minds after their vehicle had soared off the cliff into the void. The horror and futility of deciding you wanted to live when it was too late—that would be unbearable. The screaming on the way down, the regret. That haunted her the most. What if—at the last second—you changed your mind?

She pushed back the memory of those first days after Randy left, how—in the deepest darkest most despairing part of her misery—she had entertained the thought of ending it all. But when she felt that first flutter of life inside her, she knew she couldn’t do it. Killing herself was one thing. Killing another living being was another.

Some of the cars—that became airborne for maybe twenty feet over the crevasse before plunging to the wilderness of the valley below—might not be discovered for years or months, Hendricks said.

“Every once in a while, we send a patrol down to Danville Road to search for missing people in smashed vehicles,” Hendricks took a puff on his cigarette, staring out at the valley below. “Two years ago, they did a scavenging operation and hoisted fifty-four cars out of the canyon below. Oldest one we found was from 1970.”

Now, when she heard Sgt. Earl’s call, Maggie stood and grabbed her jacket. He hadn’t said it was a 10-55—coroner’s case—but it sounded like he might have found a car down there.

For a second, Maggie hesitated. He hadn’t asked for back up but it wouldn’t hurt to show some initiative. Earl was the chief’s nephew. So far, her only interaction with him had been prickly. When he was introduced to her he looked her up and down and dismissed her with a slight sneer.

In the Navy, she’d learned that despite her overwhelming desire to always fit in, in the armed services it was nearly impossible to be considered one of the boys. She was a marksman in the Navy but that hadn’t earned her any respect.

Maybe it was different in the cop world. Maggie would show Earl she could walk the thin blue line.

Although she’d never seen a dead body, she knew it was part of the job if you were a cop. Might as well get it over with. It was time to show Earl she could play with the big boys.

Maggie had radioed Sgt. Earl on the way down, but he had told her he was Code 4—under control—and he’d meet her back at the station later. When she tried to respond, she got static and he didn’t answer his call sign. That worried her enough to go find him.

When Maggie finally made it to where Sgt. Earl had called in his location right where the city limits met county territory, she still didn’t see Earl or his squad. A dirt road lay right on the county side of the small metal sign welcoming people to Sanctuary City. Glancing down the road, Maggie caught a glimpse of sunlight reflecting on metal.

Because she had careened a little bit past the narrow road, she decided to park on the shoulder and walk in. As soon as she stepped out, she felt a chill and grabbed a lightweight jacket off her passenger seat. As the sun was setting, the bottom of the canyon was growing colder.

She stepped toward the narrow road, really more of a driveway lined with dense foliage so thick it would probably scratch the sides of any vehicle that drove down the road. The woods were peaceful and smelled like Christmas but Maggie felt a spike of adrenaline course through her limbs thinking that Earl might be retrieving a dead body from a smashed car. She rounded a corner and then another, her black boots kicking up dry dust that made her cough. The sun was setting in the distance so the large pine trees cast dark shadows around her.

“Sgt. Earl?” He didn’t answer. She drew her weapon. Her hands were shaking. She yelled louder. A woman screamed and that sent Maggie sprinting. As she turned a corner, she drew back. Sgt. Earl stood about twenty feet away in a dirt clearing. A woman in a flowered dress was kneeled at his feet. His gun was pointing to her head. The woman’s brown face was tear-streaked and dirty. Her thick black hair was falling out of two braids, with wisps stuck to her wet cheeks. The woman started to turn toward Maggie, but froze when Earl stuck the barrel of his gun against her forehead.

Slowly, barely moving his head, Earl glanced Maggie’s way. She could see perspiration dripping down from his spiky caterpillar eyebrows. On the top half, he was a large man, thick neck, oversized belly stuffed into his dark blue uniform, big Ping-Pong paddle hands. All balanced on short stubby legs.

“This is none of your concern.” Maggie couldn’t see his lips move under his walrus moustache.

“What’s going on, Sarge?” Maggie’s voice wavered. But the arm holding her gun, still pointing toward Earl and the woman, was steady. The woman looked up at Maggie, the whites of her eyes wild with fear.

“Go on. Get now. Get back in your squad and go on back up the ridge.”

Maggie swallowed hard. “No, sir.”

He squinted his eyes and turned his entire face toward her now. “What did you say? Are you disobeying a senior officer? A sergeant?”

That’s when she heard it. Pounding coming from the trunk of Earl’s squad parked about five feet behind him. He slid his eyes over to the noise and then back at Maggie. He pressed his lips together tightly.

“What’s going on here, sir?”

Slowly, without moving barely at all, he let his hand with the gun fall to his side.

“These aliens were poaching, setting rabbit traps on John Christensen’s land so he asked my help in getting rid of them.” Earl kept his gun pointed to the ground, but didn’t put it away.

“Getting rid of them?”

“I gave her a ride out of our town limits. I’m letting her off with a warning.” He spit on the ground near the woman. “Don’t ever come back into Sanctuary again or you’ll be arrested next time. Jail. Behind bars. In the can. Comprendo?”

The woman shook her head.

“Damn spics,” he mumbled and then his voice rose. “No Sanctuary.” He pointed up the road. “No mas. Vamos. No Sanctuary.”

He nudged the woman with his foot and she scrambled away on all fours until she was a few feet away, then stood, casting a nervous glance at Maggie. “Mi esposo?” My husband.

Earl said “them, these aliens.”

“What’s in the trunk, Sarge?” Who is in the trunk?

Instead of answering, he looked past Maggie, over her shoulder. He shifted from foot to foot and bit the inside of his lip. Maggie took a step forward. “What’s in the trunk?”

The woman, as if sensing Maggie was an ally, ran over and grabbed her arm. The one with the gun. Maggie led her arm fall to her side. Within seconds Earl’s gun was pointed at Maggie and the woman. Maggie realized immediately what Earl was thinking and how dangerous the situation had just become. People died when cops thought they were reaching for guns, especially when it was a cop’s gun.

“It’s okay, Sarge. It’s under control.” Without taking her eyes off Earl, Maggie gingerly unwound the woman’s fingers from her forearm.

Even when the woman had let go of Maggie’s gun arm, Earl kept his weapon trained on both of them. Maggie’s heart thudded as she watched Earl. He was biting his lip. Sweat was pouring freely now down his cheeks.

“Sergeant?” Maggie’s voice was calm.

It seemed to snap him out of it. He lowered his gun.

Her entire body sagged in relief.

The woman asked again, “Mi esposo?” And pointed to the trunk.

“Let him out of the trunk, sir.” Maggie’s voice was steel but her knees were so weak she worried she would collapse into the dirt any second.

At that moment, the woman bolted toward Earl, her arm stretched out. Maggie panicked and drew her gun. She met Earl’s eyes as he also lifted his own weapon.

Maggie shouted, “Stop!” and instead of pointing her gun toward the woman, pointed her gun toward Earl. For a second that felt like an eternity, Maggie and Earl stared at one another.

Then everything sped up. Earl’s gun arm flicked out and his weapon smashed the woman in the side of the head. She collapsed in a heap at his feet. With her gun at her side, Maggie raced over to the woman and kneeled down. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Are you okay?”

Maggie felt for a pulse and sighed in relief when she felt one. Maggie whipped off her jacket, wadding it up and using it as a pillow under the woman’s head.

All the while, Earl was a lurking presence above her. Maggie could sense him pacing and watching.

The woman’s eyes flicked open. She tried to sit up but Maggie gently pressed down on the woman’s shoulders with her palms. “Rest for a second. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

But the woman looked behind Maggie with fear, the whites of her eyes showing.

Slowly, Maggie turned. Earl was standing a few feet away, arms outstretched, muzzle of a tiny silver gun no bigger than a deck of cards pointed at Maggie’s head. His service weapon was in its holster. Fear trickled through her body in an icy wave.

Sweat dripped in a steady stream down the side of his face from his temple.

He stuttered a little. “You shouldn’t have come down here, Rook. This was none of your business.”

Maggie began to stand.

“Stay down!” Earl shouted, spittle flying from his lips.

She put her hands up. “Okay. Now take it easy, sergeant and think about what you’re doing. I’m not the enemy. Remember? I’m a fellow officer. I think this situation has gotten out of control. Let’s calm down and think about this.”

“You’ve seen too much.” He said, eyes darting off to the bushes and quickly back.

“I haven’t seen shit,” Maggie said, on her knees now, glancing to the side, wondering how she could escape. If he fired and she darted, the woman behind her might get the bullet instead. The woman was now also on her knees, crouched behind Maggie. “What I saw was you giving this woman a ride out of the city limits, right?”

His eyes narrowed. He released the safety on his small gun. His entire arm was trembling. His eyes wild, his face slick with the sheen of sweat.

Maggie swallowed, mind racing, adrenaline spiked, searching for a way out. He closed his eyes for a second. This was it.

Maggie’s radio squawked. “Unit 320 are you code 4 on Danville Road?”

Her eyes widened. She didn’t think her radio worked down here.

Maggie slowly reached for the mic, watching Earl. He shook his head and she let her hand fall to her side.

Then Kim in dispatch asked again. “Units 320 and 480. We’re going to code one. I’ve got Unit 350 on the way. Please let us know you’re code four.”

Unit 350 was Benson. He was a straight shooter. Definitely not one of Earl’s cronies. Code one meant clearing the entire channel because something important was afoot. Maggie watched Earl. He shook his head, let go of the gun with one hand and flicked his mic with the other. “Dispatch Units 320 and 480 are code four. Go ahead and cancel Unit 350 and the code one.”

He kept the gun pointed at Maggie.

“Copy. Code one canceled. Canceling Unit 350.” Kim said. But then a second later, she came back on. “Sorry, I can’t reach Unit 350. He must be in the dead zone. So expect some company soon. Tell him my mistake.”

Earl blew air out of his mouth and shook his head before responding. “Will do.”

Then he turned to Maggie and the hand with the gun fell to his side. “Get up.”

Earl turned away and with his lips pressed tightly together, stuck his key into the lock on the trunk and popped it open. He stepped aside and stared at Maggie. One hand still held his service weapon, hanging down by his thigh.

Inside, a man with leaves and twigs stuck to his thick black hair and flannel shirt crawled out of the trunk. The woman ran up to him and grabbed him, pulling him away, cowering. Both kept their eyes on Earl, who stared at Maggie.

Even from where she stood, Maggie could see the trunk was lined in thick plastic. A sour taste filled her mouth.

Nobody moved. Finally, Earl spit on the dirt and turned his back to slam the lid of the trunk.

“This, today, right here, it’s between me and you, Rook. You understand?” He took the barrel of his gun and slowly rubbed his cheek with it, not taking his eyes off her.

Maggie didn’t answer.

“You’re new around here, so there might be some things you don’t know,” he continued. “For instance, the Earl family has been in Sanctuary City for three generations. We were the original settlers here. You might say I’m pretty entrenched here in this community. We don’t like newcomers or upstarts coming in and trying to change things. You got me?”

Maggie didn’t answer. Instead, she turned toward the couple watching from a few feet away, arms wrapped around one another. A small trickle of blood was oozing from the woman’s temple. Maggie had a first-aid kit in her trunk. She would run and get it.

Before she could take a step, her arm was wrenched behind her back and she bent over in pain. Something cold jabbed her spine. The metallic taste of fear filled her mouth and she felt a burning sensation tripped through her head.

Sgt. Earl leaned against her from behind, his breath hot and sour in her ear.

“You breathe a word of this, you’re dead meat, cunt.”

Maggie was starting to hyperventilate. The couple was shooting glances around the woods, seemingly poised to run. If Earl killed her, he’d surely kill them, as well.

“I won’t, sir. I won’t say anything. I didn’t see anything.”

The pressure on her spine let up. Then it was gone.

Without a word, Earl went around to his driver’s door. He slid into the front seat slamming his door shut. He gunned the motor as he did a U-turn, forcing Maggie to jump back a few feet out of the road. As the squad car passed, Earl turned his head toward her, his eyes pools of black nothing, a promise in them that sent a chill down her spine that had nothing to do with the cool breeze lifting her hair.

Maggie stared, frozen, until the red taillights disappeared onto the main road.

She turned to the couple. The man was gently pressing his shirt to his wife’s temple, dabbing at the blood.

Un momento,” Maggie said and ran to her squad, pulling it into the clearing and retrieving the first aid kit. With the woman seated in the passenger seat, Maggie began cleaning her wound with sterile gauze as the husband paced, muttering in Spanish.

A car turned into the clearing, its headlights lighting up the trio. As it grew closer, Maggie could make out the colors and badge painted on the side—a Sanctuary City squad. Her heart stopped in her throat for a few seconds until she realized it wasn’t Earl come back to finish the job.

It was Benson.

“Jesus. What happened?” Benson leaned in the car. Maggie’s back was turned to him as she finished applying the bandage.

For a few seconds, before she turned, Maggie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Then she turned and plastered a concerned but not-too-concerned look on her face.

“Do you speak Spanish?” She held her breath waiting for his answer.

Benson scratched his head and a flush spread up his neck. “Nah. I’ve been meaning to take one of them community ed courses, but I don’t speak a lick.”

Maggie exhaled. “Okay. Here’s what I know—which isn’t much. When I got here, I guess I just missed Earl. He dropped off this couple across the county line because of some report they might have been poaching. But there was no evidence of that,” Maggie quickly added, “so he was doing them a favor bringing them here.”

Maggie winced at her words, but went on.

“I had some trouble finding this spot, being new and all, by the time I got here, they were heading in the wrong direction, lost. Sounds like the woman fell down in the dark, hitting her head on a rock.” Maggie waited, hoping she had sounded convincing.

For a few seconds, she didn’t think Benson was going to buy it. His forehead had scrunched up and he was chewing his lower lip. “Huh?”

“I think what happened is that Earl couldn’t take them any further, you know. Because the three of us are the only ones on duty so he needed to stay in city limits. But here’s the thing,” Maggie glanced at her watch. “I’m off duty as of ten minutes ago. I’m going to run them down to Apple Valley. Drop them at the hospital so someone can look at her head. I’ll call Kim in dispatch and tell her that since my shift is over I’m taking off. I’ll bring squad back to station on my way home.”

“What about filing a report on this? Them poaching?”

“You can call it in, I guess,” Maggie said. “Not sure any crime was committed—at least nothing requiring a report. Earl didn’t seem to think so. That’s why he drove them here instead of arresting them.”

She waited. Finally, Benson nodded.

“I expect your right.”