Cop Town (49 page)

“Gail wants me to take her. You need a ride?”

Kate thought about the last funeral she had attended. Patrick’s remains had been flown to Atlanta from the other side of the world. There were bureaucratic snafus. A freak storm had hit Atlanta. Ten days passed before what was left of her husband finally made its way home. Kate had been so drugged by the time the funeral was held that she barely remembered the coffin being lowered into the ground.

Maggie asked, “You all right?”

“Absolutely,” Kate fibbed. “I’ll meet you at Gail’s so you don’t have to make the drive into Buckhead.”

“Buckhead,” Maggie grumbled. “Listen, just to warn you, Gail’s thinking about getting her PI license.”

Kate slapped her hand to her mouth.

Maggie knew what was coming. “Everything can’t be a joke, Kate.”

“Cyclops Investigations?”

“Stop it.” Maggie’s head disappeared inside her locker. Her voice was muffled. “Keeping an eye out for Trouble.”

“Oh, well done.”

“Good morning, ladies!” Wanda Clack squeezed past the door. Her smile dropped. “
Another
cock drawing? Really?”

Kate said, “I thought the shading gave it an air of realism.”

“I’ll bow to your expertise, Mrs. Lawson.”

Maggie said, “What?”

“You didn’t know your partner’s dating your brother?” Wanda sat down on the bench. “They were making out in front of the station house. Half the squad saw ’em.”

Maggie looked at Kate.

Kate shrugged.

“I can’t believe it’s Monday again. Every fucking week.” Wanda leaned back and opened her locker. She loaded her belt with her nightstick, handcuffs, transmitter. “I met a stone fox on Saturday. Looked like Al Pacino, but shorter. He took me dancing and dining and then he found out I was a cop and sneaked out the bathroom window. Stuck me with the check!” She huffed a laugh. “Guess I’m lucky he didn’t have a gun taped to the back of the toilet.”

Maggie was smiling the way she did only when she was really happy. “You could always date a cop.”

“I’ll leave that to the young and stupid. Right, Murphy?”

“Absolutely.”

The door opened wide. A terrified young woman stumbled into the room. Her hands were clasped over her breasts. Her hat was down in her eyes. Her uniform was three sizes too large.

“Jesus Christ.” Charlaine Compton came in behind her. She pushed the door closed with both hands. “What the hell were you thinking? We could have naked women in here.”

The new girl’s mouth worked. She looked ready to run out the door. She probably would have if Charlaine hadn’t been blocking the way.

Wanda said, “Lookit her, she’s terrified.”

“Like a deer caught in the headlights.” Charlaine feigned sadness. “Poor thing won’t last a week.”

Kate openly studied the new girl. She had dark hair and a wholesome appearance. She was attractive except for the unbridled terror.

Wanda asked, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“B-B-Beth Dawson.”

Wanda said, “She reminds me of that chick from
Laugh-In
. What’s her name?”

“Lily Tomlin?” Charlaine suggested. “Judy Carne?”

“Ruth Buzzi.” Wanda clapped her hands together. “I’m gonna call you Buzzi.”

Charlaine looked at her watch. “I gotta call my sister, make sure she didn’t stick my kid in her trunk instead of taking him to school.”

“Better get out of here before the colored girls come.” Wanda slapped Kate’s leg. Kate helped lever her up. Instead of leaving, Wanda grabbed Dawson by the shoulders. “Listen up, Buzzi. A word of advice: stay away from Jimmy Lawson. He’s Murphy’s over there.” She shook the woman like a sack of laundry. “Trust me. You don’t want to fuck with Murphy. She shot a man just to watch him cry.”

Wanda cracked open the door and slid out into the squad room.

Maggie told Kate, “Vick told me we’re partnered. That work for you?”

“Gosh, I’m thrilled.” Kate couldn’t help herself. She really was thrilled.

Still, Maggie was shaking her head as she crabbed out through the door.

Kate zipped her purse. She patted her pockets one last time. She slammed her locker closed.

Dawson jumped. She was standing in the corner. Her hands still clutched her breasts. Her hat was so low that Kate couldn’t make out the color of her eyes.

Kate said, “Take your hands off your breasts.”

Dawson moved her hands. Her purse dropped to the floor. She leaned down to retrieve it and hit her head on the doorknob.

Kate willed herself not to smile. “Do you have a lock?” The woman was too petrified to speak. “A combination lock?”

Dawson shook her head. She put her hat back on. The brim dipped into her eyes. She pushed it back up.

Kate opened her locker. “You can use mine today. Get one for yourself by tomorrow. There’s a sporting goods store on Central Ave. near the university. Wear your uniform and they’ll give you the lock for free.”

Dawson didn’t move.

Kate grabbed the woman’s purse and threw it into her locker. “Never open the door all the way or the guys can see in. Don’t wear the dress socks they gave you. Franklin Simon has wool ones, two for a dollar, but I prefer cashmere from Davison’s. Either way, get something thick that will help keep your feet in your shoes. And find a stapler for your pants. Those bobby pins won’t hold. Trust me. You’ll end up looking like the scarecrow from
Wizard of Oz
. And speaking of looking, always take in your surroundings. Up, down, left, right, front, back, sideways. You can take off your hat.”

Dawson took off her hat.

“You see this curtain?”

Dawson looked at the curtain.

“The colored girls change back there. They get the room ten minutes before roll call. That’s the rule. They don’t like it when we’re in here and we won’t like it if you piss them off. Understand?”

Dawson’s head moved like the ball in a typewriter. Somewhere in her brain, she was trying to record all of this information.

Instead of slowing down, Kate went faster. “You won’t get arrested for altering your uniforms. There’s a tailor on Fourteenth who’ll take care of you. He’s Jewish, but reasonable. What else? Oh—toilets are upstairs. It’s a tight squeeze, only two stalls. Don’t spray your hair in front of the mirror or someone will kill you. I’m serious. We all carry guns. I’m Kate, by the way.”

Kate offered her hand.

Dawson hesitated, then tentatively reached out to shake Kate’s hand.

“Welcome to the Atlanta Police Department.”

For Billie, who started it all

(
There’s a fearful point …
)

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Please keep in mind that Atlanta is not just one city—every experience is unique. While this novel is peppered with real-life details, it is still a work of fiction (which means I made stuff up).

For background on Atlanta during the 1970s, I’d like to thank Janice Blumberg, Dona Robertson, Vickye Prattes, and the lovely and handsome Dr. Chip Pendleton. Thanks to Ineke Lenting, my Dutch translator, for helping me with my Dutch (which is nonexistent except for the swear words I picked up from Marjolein). Iannis Goerlandt and Leen van den Broucke were particularly helpful with all of my questions about Flanders (and to my Flemish readers, whom I adore—my deepest apologies. You are the kindest, most joyful people I have ever met and I treasure the time I’ve spent with you). Melissa Van der Wagt pronounced some Dutch words for me (no, Melissa, they did not sound just like English). Nanda Brouwer took me to the Joods Historisch Museum in Amsterdam, where Mirjam Knotter very patiently answered my questions. I am particularly grateful to Linda Andriesse at the Hollandsche Schouwburg for her generosity and willingness to speak with me about her personal
experiences. Barbara Reuten, thank you for facilitating both of these meetings. I would encourage anyone interested in the history of the Netherlands during the war to visit and support these vital organizations. Actually, I would encourage anyone to visit the Netherlands whenever possible (and especially Flanders!).

Apologies to railfans for the liberties I took with the Howell Yard Wye. Also, I should mention that
Warren Zevon
was recorded in 1975 but released in May of ’76.

David and Ellen Conford were my go-to Jews for all things Yiddish. If a reader finds I’m wrong:
a glick hot dich getrofen!
Laurent Bouzereau: thank you for your Rolodex. Susan Rebecca White: thank you for the Colonnade line. Kitty: thank you for proving that grown women in Buckhead still say “gosh.” Kat: thanks for you know what, mama. Gillian: this is what I was working on while you were crafting your awesome sweet potato joke. Charlaine and Lee: yes, that’s you guys. Mo Hayder: I am sorry so few people die horribly in this one. Next time.

To my editorial team, Jennifer Hershey and Kate Elton (BBF): thank you both so much for your diligence and patience. Writing a novel is like walking a tightrope, and I feel very glad to have y’all as my net. Thanks also to folks at Random House US and UK: Gina Centrello, Libby McGuire, Susan Sandon, Georgina Hawtrey-Woore, Jenny Geras, and Markus Dohle. Victoria Sanders, thank you for putting up with all my crap. Diane Dickensheid, thank you for listening to Victoria put up with my crap. Angela Cheng Caplan, you are a star. More crap to come.

My last thanks always goes to the two most important people in my life: Thank you to my daddy, who while I am in the throes of writing always brings me soup and cornbread and reminds me to comb my hair. To DA, my love—I don’t know what I did to deserve you, and I am pretty sure you’ve forgotten, too.

ALSO BY KARIN SLAUGHTER

Blindsighted
Kisscut
A Faint Cold Fear
Indelible
Like a Charm
(
Editor
)
Faithless
Triptych
Beyond Reach
Fractured
Undone
Broken
Fallen
Criminal
Unseen

EBOOK ORIGINALS

Snatched
Thorn in My Side
Busted

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

K
ARIN
S
LAUGHTER
is the
New York Times
and #1 internationally bestselling author of
Unseen, Criminal, Fallen, Broken, Undone, Fractured, Beyond Reach, Triptych, Faithless, Indelible, A Faint Cold Fear, Kisscut
, and
Blindsighted
, as well as the e-book original novellas “Busted,” “Snatched,” and “Thorn in My Side”; she also contributed to and edited
Like a Charm
. To date, her books have been translated into more than thirty languages. She is a native of Atlanta, Georgia, where she currently lives and is working on her next novel.

www.karinslaughter.com