Three hours later, Thomas and Shadowhawk stood over Goliath, or more accurately, Robert Dean Kent, as he slept in his hospital room. The doctor said his foot would fully recover, but he may have a limp. She was real heartbroken about that. His left wrist was secured to the bedrail with handcuffs, while his right hand was hooked up to an IV.
After the doctor cautioned them they had only five minutes and not to upset his patient, he got called away on an emergency. Before he left, he informed them that if the patient had any discomfort, all he needed to do was push the button on the control to receive morphine.
The second the doctor disappeared, Shadowhawk shut the door on the uniform standing guard. After returning to the bed, she picked up the morphine button and held it. She started flicking the guy’s nose in an attempt to rouse him.
“Wakey, wakey.” Running out of patience because it wasn’t working, she went to the end of the bed and squeezed his bandaged foot.
“Aw!” His eyes shot open. “What the hell?”
“Looky here, sleeping ugly is awake,” Shadowhawk said.
“You do have a way about you. Ever think of being a nurse?” Thomas asked.
“Naw.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to empty bed pans.”
Thomas nodded. “There is that.”
“Shit. You two again. You’re a regular Martin and Lewis.”
“Well, thank you.” She looked at Thomas. “That’s quite a compliment, don’t you think?”
“Indeed,” Thomas answered. “But which one of us is Jerry Lewis?”
“Oh, that would be me. You are definitely Dean Martin, suave, sophisticated and–”
“Leave me alone,” Robert bit out.
“See now, we can’t do that. You pulled a gun on my partner and that is against the law,” Thomas said, his words tinged in anger.
“Not to mention, rude,” She added.
“That too,” Thomas finished.
She got down in his face. “Look Bobby, or is it Robby? All we want to know is, who are you working with? Tell us that and we might be able to get you a deal.”
He turned away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She glanced at Thomas. “Must be the drugs from the surgery, huh?”
“Or, he’s a bit dense.”
“I was afraid of that.” She turned back to the patient. “Okay, Roberta, I’ll speak very slowly and spell everything out so you can understand better, okay?” She over-emphasized each word. “We already have you on aggravated assault, assault with a deadly weapon, and attempted murder on a police officer.
“We know this wasn’t your idea, so we just need to have the name of the person who came up with this scheme. Were you supposed to kidnap me? Kidnapping is a federal offense, you know, and it’s worth a minimum of twenty-five years.”
“To life,” Thomas added.
“Exactly. Why should you do the time when it wasn’t your crime? Maybe you were coerced or blackmailed. Maybe your family was threatened, your grandmother is tied up in a basement somewhere and you had no choice. We’re trying to help you. Just give us the name of the person responsible. I’ll go to the DA personally and explain to him that you cooperated and it’ll get your sentence reduced. What do you say?”
“I want my lawyer.”
She straightened up.
“I guess he is as stupid as he looks,” Thomas said.
“No doubt.” She threw the morphine drip button at him and hit him in the nose. “Whoopsy.” Then stomped out of the room.
The following day, the detectives sat in the office they now shared, their desks facing one another.
Shadowhawk spied on Thomas over her computer screen. “How the hell did that worm score James Greenburg as his lawyer?”
He glanced up. “Someone with serious money is willing to waste it on his sorry ass. Johnson is getting everything she can on him.”
“Did she give you a guesstimate?”
“No. I texted her last night before I went to sleep and she said she’d make it a priority.”
“Maybe I’ll just go down there and pay her a visit.”
“Do not bother her. If she says she’s making it a priority, then she is.” His expression said he meant business.
“You’re no fun.”
“And you like to live dangerously. I told you she’s off limits, her and every other woman in this building,” he bit out.
“Hey, it’s only a little bit of flirting.”
He glared at her. “Until it’s not. She has a boyfriend.”
“You do know I’m only screwing with you, right?”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
Now she was insulted. “Not only do I not shit where I eat, but I have no interest in straight women or the bi-curious anymore. Maria cured me of that.”
His expression softened. “Oh, yeah, sorry.”
“Right.” She averted her eyes and pretended to be interested in something on her computer.
The phone rang and Thomas answered it. When he hung up, he said, “Johnson wants us down in Cyber Crimes.”
Shadowhawk was relieved to be off the subject.
Kim Johnson was one of the best IT operators they had. So when they began the Cyber Crimes Unit, she was promoted to head up the team. They descended into what was referred to as the dungeon because it was dark and had no windows. In its former life, it had been used for storage.
They found Johnson standing in front of a computer monitor, a yearbook picture of a young man projected onto a large screen on the wall.
“Meet Robert Dean Kent, born in Santa Monica, California. He graduated from UCLA, majoring in business management, and minored in film. His parents, Dean Albert Kent, an investment broker, and his mother, Tamara Lynn, divorced when he was ten.
“At the time, Mrs. Kent happened to be an executive secretary for Theodore Grant Tallman, a big time producer. He too was married. There was a scandal and two very nasty divorces ensued. A year later, the cheating spouses married.”
Johnson changed the screen and it filled with a wedding picture, the groom a distinguished older gentleman with grey at the temples, the bride a gorgeous petite blonde probably half his age.
“By the way, that dress is Vera Wang,” Johnson added.
“So this chump has money,” Shadowhawk said.
“Oh, yeah, the guy’s a billionaire,” Johnson answered.
“That’s how his stepson got the best criminal attorney in LA. Something tells me this isn’t their first rodeo. With money like that, records tend to disappear,” Thomas interjected.
“No doubt,” Shadowhawk said.
Johnson changed the picture again. A giant mansion filled the screen. “This is the estate in Bel Air where Robert grew up.”
“Holy shit, did he score or what?” Shadowhawk exclaimed.
“I’d say,” Johnson retorted. “He was kicked out of three private schools. Even step-daddy’s money couldn’t keep him in those prestigious academies. When he did finally graduate high school, it was by the skin of his teeth. I don’t know how he got a degree from UCLA.”
“He probably hired someone to write his papers and take his tests. What does he do now? Drive fast cars and screw expensive hookers?” Shadowhawk asked.
A new picture filled the screen. Shadowhawk recognized the older gentleman as Tallman. Robert stood on his right in an expensive suit, his hair slicked back. A younger version of Tallman stood to his father’s left, then a petite woman stood next to him, a big smile on her face.
“He went into the family business, making movies for TGT Productions,” Johnson answered.
Shadowhawk knew the name was familiar, but couldn’t quite place it. She pointed to the screen. “What’s this woman’s name?”
“That’s Veronica Tallman, the apple of her father’s eye. She runs the–”
“Blow that picture up, will ya?” As the woman’s image increased, Shadowhawk found herself staring at a petite red-head, with deep green eyes and a very large chest. “Ronnie for short,” she said under her breath.
“Huh?” Johnson asked.
“Holy shit.”
“What?” Thomas asked alarmed.
“That’s her!” Shadowhawk hit the screen with her index finger.
“Are you sure?” Thomas asked.
“Her, who?” Johnson interjected.
Thomas addressed Johnson. “The woman who’s been stalking Shadowhawk.”
“And happens to be my friend’s new lover. I’ve got to get a hold of her right away.” Shadowhawk pulled out her phone and dialed Casey. The phone rang four times and went to voicemail. “Shit.” She quickly hit redial. “Come on, Casey, pick up, pick up, pick up.” It went to voicemail again. “Casey, call me the second you get this.”
A large hand landed on her shoulder. “Veronica knew when we arrested her stepbrother, it would only be a matter of time before we knew who she was.”
“No, shit, Sherlock.” Shadowhawk hit redial again.
“My point is, she’s had more than twelve hours. They could be anywhere.” His voice was quiet.
Shadowhawk turned around and he placed both hands on her shoulders. “We need to think this through, calmly.”
She dropped her phone in a pocket. “I know you’re right, but you’re going to have to do it. I can’t think my way out of a paper bag right now.”
He gave her a reassuring squeeze on her shoulders. “That’s what partners are for.” He reached his hand into her outer jacket pocket, pulled out the phone and handed it over to Johnson without breaking eye contact. “Will you get the last phone number called and find the last cell phone tower pinged, please?”
Johnson snatched the phone. “On it.”
“Now I want you to think back to the last time you spoke to Casey. What did she tell you about her girlfriend?”
Shadowhawk nodded, glad he had the presence of mind that she’d lost the second she heard someone she cared about was in trouble. She closed her eyes while she focused on their conversations.
“She told me she worked for her father’s company and was always gone, but soon was going to start her own business once the big project she was working on was done. She was going to hire Casey so they’d always be together. She has a house on the sand in Seal Beach.” Her eyes flew open.
“Good. You know where she works, lives, and if I had to bet, I’d say you were the big project she was working on,” Thomas said.
“Shit.” Shadowhawk closed her eyes and shook her head. “Poor Casey, her entire relationship has been a lie.”
“Jason, look up property records in the name of Veronica Tallman,” Thomas instructed one of the guys working nearby.
“Sure thing.” The sound of keys clicking filled the room.
“Mark, get me all of the properties owned by Theodore Grant Tallman, or TGT Productions.”
“On it.” More computer key clicks.
“I’ve got the tower,” Johnson said. “It’s in Seal Beach.”
“Great. Johnson, get me Veronica’s mother’s name, and all her property records.”
She nodded and got to work.
Jason waved a piece of paper in the air. “I’ve got a Seal Beach address for Veronica Tallman.” He ran over.
Thomas took it. “Good job, thanks.” He focused on Shadowhawk. “You’re supposed to be riding a desk until IA is through investigating your shooting.”
“No way. You’re not leaving me here,” Shadowhawk pleaded.
Thomas lowered his voice so only she could hear him. “You shot a guy in the foot. I’m always telling you that temper of yours is going to get you in trouble. Can you honestly tell me you had no other choice?”
He was right. She could have easily disarmed the guy once his attention was averted. But he’d scared her shitless and she wanted him to pay. “I could have shot him in the balls.”
“Jesus.” He was pissed, and rightly so.
She turned serious. “You can’t leave me here, Thomas. Casey’s life is in danger because of me. Please.” She beseeched him with her eyes.
Time stood still as he mulled it over. Her heart stuttered in anticipation. There were some rules Thomas would not bend, let alone break. Right now she was praying to the Gods that this was not one of them.
Finally he spoke. “Don’t make me regret this.”
Her body relaxed. “I won’t.”
He kept his gaze on her a beat more. Then turned to address the room. “As soon as you have any information, text or email it to me. I’ll be on the road.” Heads bobbed in acknowledgement.