Searching for Secrets (24 page)

Watkins' posture grew straighter. "See here, Officer Reynolds. If you're going to charge us with something, do so. Otherwise," he shifted in his seat as if he were about to stand, "I'll be on my way."

Kirk moved his gun slightly, so it was trained on Watkins rather than Freddy. "You'll hear the full charges in a few minutes. When you get to the station, you can call your lawyer. In the meantime, you're in the company of a man who just pulled a gun on a police officer. That's enough to hold you."

"A man who was breaking into my house," Freddy said.

"I didn't realize you were on the deed for a house in such a nice neighborhood," Christa said. "It's so much nicer than the one you left me in."

Watkins turned to look at Freddy. "What's she talking about?"

"You'll find out," Christa said, an edge creeping into her voice. She could see what Watkins was doing. Trying to pretend he knew little about what was going on.

"Tough guy cop. Think you're going to save the world."

Freddy's mocking tone surprised Christa. Why would a man under arrest goad the officer who arrested him?

"Not the world, maybe. But when we get you two locked up, there will be less scum on the streets of Iowa City. You know," Kirk turned to Watkins, "maybe you aren't in this as deep as your pal Freddy is. Man with a successful business like yours. Why do you want to go to prison?"

Watkins snorted. "Successful business. Haven't you noticed how easy it is to get service in my store these days? When the new office supply store opened south of town, everyone started going there to buy their computers. I can't compete with those prices." His eye narrowed, and his voice rose as he continued. "But can I get out of my lease at the mall? No. They bleed you, that's what they do. I work seven days a week just to pay rent to the bastards."

Christa was as startled by his tone as his words. The man she had thought of as kind and mild-mannered was a bitter person. "But, why drugs?" she asked.

Freddy laughed in derision. "So pops sees who has the money, and he comes to me. He has an idea for making an even cheaper meth recipe…”

"Shut up, Freddy," Watkins said.

Realization dawned. "That's right," Christa said, slowly, "you were a chemist."

"But not everybody comes to Freddy," the man with the rat-like face continued. "When they want drug treatment they go to their friendly police officer."

Kirk stiffened. Christa sensed rather than saw his guard go up, and realized Kirk must be thinking of his nephew. Freddy was lower than dirt to bring up Timmy.

The sound of a car outside brought a surge of relief. Christa didn't like the standoff between them and the two drug dealers. She wanted it to be over, and she wanted to sit down. More than anything else, she wanted the dumb cast off her wrist so she could take a hot shower and wash the itching skin. And then she wanted to sleep next to Kirk Reynolds.

She looked at Kirk, who nodded toward the door. "Should be Hadley."

She nodded and watched Hadley leave his car and start up the sidewalk.

"You know, Freddy," Kirk continued, "it will be a lot easier for you if you let me know what you were going to deliver today, and where you were going to make your drop."

"Delivery? What, you think I'm the pizza man now, Officer Reynolds?"

Kirk moved a few steps closer to Freddy. “No. I think you and Watkins somehow cooked up a better recipe for the most addictive substance on the streets, and you plan on selling that recipe and some samples to someone. You want to tell me who’s buying?”

Freddy laughed derisively. “You’ll never know goody two - shoes. Hey, I got my rights.”

As Christa opened the door to let Hadley in, Kirk put his gun a few inches from Freddy’s nose. “You aren’t that smart and Watkins is a novice. You had help, and I want to know who it was.”

"Right here," said Hadley as he drew his gun from the shoulder holster and pointed it at Kirk.

Christa slumped against the wall. Not Hadley!

Kirk turned his head to look at his friend, but left his gun trained on the two men on the sofa. "What the hell do you mean?" he asked.

"What I said, old buddy." Hadley shut the door and turned the deadbolt. "I tried to tell you to stay away from this one. But would you listen?"

Christa started to move closer to Kirk, but Hadley's left arm shot out and grabbed her, none too gently. Kirk's service revolver, safety latch still off, flew out of her hand and clattered on the floor. "Put the gun down, Kirk," he said, pulling Christa closer to him.

Kirk's face reddened as he lowered his weapon to the floor. "What is this about, Mark?"

Christa was surprised at how calm he appeared. She felt the grip on her arm loosen as Hadley gave her a gentle shove toward Kirk. She moved a little closer, but didn't stand next to him. If Hadley was going to shoot them, he'd have to use two bullets.

"It's about feeling good, getting more done. It's about not listening to your drivel about your precious family and your damn diatribe against drugs." Hadley's jaw jutted forward slightly as he spoke. "Nobody made Timmy use too much meth. He did it himself."

"You're using!" Kirk's words were as sharp an expletive as any string of curse words could be. "How could you?"

Freddy stood. "Youse two can have your touch-feely session later." He grinned at Christa as he leaned over to pick up his gun from where Kirk had dropped it. “Yeah, that was me in the park, teacher.” He shoved his gun into his belt and looked at Watkins. "Come on, we got to get going. We gotta get ready to demonstrate your recipe.”

"What are you going to do with them?" Watkins' question was addressed to Hadley.

"What do you think he's going to do?" Freddy nearly spat the words. "He's going to kill these goody two-shoes."

"So let's see," Kirk said, his voice unemotional. "Among the group of you, that'll be at least Chas Johnson, plus Christa, and me. And since I'm a cop, that's automatically the death sentence in Iowa. Just reinstated in time for you." His eyes never left Hadley's face. "Is it really worth it?"

"Killing Chas Johnson was a favor to everybody," Hadley began.

Except to Hattie Isbell. Christa had a brief image of the mantle in Chas' grandmother's living room.

"Killing was not supposed to be part of this," Watkins interjected. "Freddy just got angry when Chas was too dumb to do what he was supposed to do."

Freddy left the room and Christa could hear him run quickly down the steps that led to the basement.

Hadley shrugged. "Stupid's more like it, both of them." He smiled at Kirk. "It's like politics, you get strange bedfellows."

Watkins’ voice became more energetic. "Chas was smart. He was just about to download the file with delivery and payment information when the police raided the warehouse that had the computers. He barely got out in time."

"And thanks to the mayor wanting publicity about giving schools three computers, we knew right where to look for them," Hadley added.

"That's right," Watkins said. "Chas was to recover the information in exchange for a three-month supply of meth." He looked at Christa. "If you hadn't worked late that night and arrived early the next day, we would have gotten what we needed, and you wouldn't be in this mess."

Christa found his explanation nauseating. The man seemed to reject all responsibility for his role. “Too bad your teachers never taught you cause-and-effect logic,” she said, trying to hide her fear.

"But good old Chas still wanted his drugs, even though he hadn't secured the delivery instructions," Hadley continued. "If he hadn't been so belligerent about it, Freddy might not have killed him."

"Why don't you watch your mouth, before you go implicating other people in murders?" Freddy was angry as he sat a box on the sofa. "Quit the chit-chat. Take them downstairs and get this over with."

Christa thought quickly and turned to Hadley. "Are you sure you want to go to the electric chair for your share of $40,000?"

"That's $400,000." The men spoke almost in unison. If she hadn't been so frightened Christa would have been tempted to laugh. Instead, she shook her head vehemently. "I saw the computer screen, as you well know. It's only $40,000. Somebody had withdrawn most of the money."

Would the bluff work?

Hadley and Freddy turned toward each other and Freddy began to draw his gun. As he did so, Kirk extended a foot and tripped him. His gun slid across the floor and rattled against the baseboard.

Kirk and Freddy dove for the gun and wrestled across the floor with it.

Christa moved in front of Watkins, who grabbed for her. She dodged and he tried again. Christa looked sideways and could see that Hadley had almost reached the wrestling pair. She had to stop him! She stepped aside again as Watkins reached for her, and a shot rang out.

Christa turned, fearful that Kirk had been hurt. But, he jumped from a crouching position to a full stand, Freddy's gun in hand, and turned quickly toward Hadley. "Drop it now!"

Christa looked at Freddy's motionless body, and then her eyes turned to Hadley. But, instead of dropping his gun, he was turning toward her. Without a moment's hesitation, Kirk fired again, striking Hadley in the shoulder. Instinctively, Christa ducked. From her crouched position, she reached over and shoved Watkins in the knee. The older man's body seemed to crumple as he sat down hard on the couch.

KIRK SAT ON THE FRONT STEP, waiting for Christa to use the bathroom. He watched two police officers handcuff Watkins. The ambulance with Hadley had just left, and Kirk knew the coroner's office would arrive soon to take away Freddy's body.

It was all the more eerie to see the trick-or-treaters standing at the edge of the crime scene, craning their necks to look beyond the yellow police tape. Amid the ghosts and witches were older kids in mock bloody bandages and other garish attire. If only they knew what it was like to see real blood, violently spilled, they wouldn’t pretend to enjoy it.

As tired as he was, he knew the evening was just beginning. There would be a long investigation. Not just because a cop shot a suspect, but because one of their own had been involved in the drug scheme. Mark Hadley had been more than a fellow police officer. He was a friend. And he used drugs and was willing to sell them to others to fund his supply. It was unbelievable. And it was part of what methamphetamine was all about.

At the sound of the footstep on the concrete porch behind him, Kirk turned. Christa's solemn face held none of the irritation he had so often seen there. "I'm sorry about your friend," she said as she sat next to him.

"Me, too." He looked at her for a moment, and returned his gaze to Watkins. The store owner was loudly protesting his arrest, saying he'd been brought to the house against his will by a threatening Freddy Chambers.

Kirk felt Christa stiffen next to him. "Kidnapped?" she said, softly.

"Nobody'll believe him. Of course," Kirk was glum, "the accomplice and maybe the only one who knew who was funding all this is about to be loaded in a body bag."

Christa sat up straighter. "Officers," she said, directing her comment to the men who were loading Watkins into the back seat of a squad car.

Watkins' mouth dropped open slightly, and he began to sputter. The officer shut the door and looked at Kirk with a puzzled expression.

For the first time in months, Kirk felt a deep laugh rise from his throat. "Amy's doll. It'll tie Watkins to her kidnapping." The officer nodded and turned to get in the car.

Kirk turned to Christa. "That'll give Watkins some incentive to talk."

She looked puzzled for a second, then said, "Oh, try to get some time off his sentence."

Kirk grabbed Christa by the shoulders and swung her to face him. "You're brilliant!" He laughed again, staring into the deep green eyes that smiled back at him.

"I'm also in love," she said.

He stared at her and slowly released his grip. "With whom?" he asked, searching his brain for a humorous way to react to her simple words. She couldn't be serious. She had been passionate in the motel room, but she'd also spent half of the last week furious with him.

"You know full well with whom." Christa smiled and raised her hand to touch the hair at the nape of his neck.

Kirk covered her hand with his. "Yeah, I guess I do." He bent down and kissed her, letting the warmth of her lips meet his and linger there.

Kirk grinned at Christa. "Not sure I've ever been called that." He stood and pulled Christa to her feet as they moved out of the way.

Epilogue

The picnic had been Frances’ idea. She wanted Amy to visit City Park so the little girl would have a pleasant reason to think of it. Christa hoped that she would be as loving, and sensible, a mother when the time came. She heard Amy giggle as Frances pushed her swing higher.