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Authors: Robert Ellis
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never met him. I think he retired after Grace’s promotion. If he didn’t, then he’s probably downtown at Robbery-Homicide. It would’ve happened before I got here. Why?”
“Grace was talking about the two of them seeing Millie Brown’s body staked to the ground.”
Cabrera waited a moment, mulling something over, then looked back. “For the record, Jones, I’m sorry I lost it out there with Lane.”
Matt didn’t say anything.
Cabrera loosened his collar. “I talked it over with Grace. He said the same thing happened to him and Rodriguez.”
“And what’s that?”
“What you were just talking about. Millie Brown. The way they found her. He said it really shook them up. Frankie has to deal with Novakoff’s murder, and now his partner’s dead, too. No wonder he’s not thinking right.”
Matt didn’t like the tone of Cabrera’s voice. It sounded like he was trying to placate him. It sounded like bullshit. He shot his new partner a touch-and-go look. He could feel the anger stirring in his gut but kept his mouth shut. When Cabrera turned back to his computer, Matt got up and walked out of the room.
CHAPTER 15
No wonder he wasn’t thinking right . . .
Matt pulled out of the lot in his Honda, drove up Wilcox, and made a right on Franklin. After a few minutes he picked up Los Feliz, heading east toward the Golden State Freeway. Fifteen minutes later he was in Glendale, making the climb into the hills. When he saw Hughes’s house just ahead, he pulled up to the walkway and parked.
He wasn’t sure if he was here because he felt like he needed to check in on Laura or because he needed a break from Cabrera. Either way, the short drive seemed like a good idea.
He walked up to the house and rang the doorbell. Feeling a chill in the air—the steady breeze—he zipped up his sweatshirt and waited. When Laura didn’t come to the door, he checked the window before starting around the house. He saw Laura’s car in front of the garage. Hughes’s silver Escalade had been returned from the dealership and was parked off to the side. Matt stared at it for a while, felt his chest tighten, then stepped into the side yard.
He could hear Laura’s voice as he eased around the corner and looked down the hill at the pool. She was with the woman who lived next door. The woman Matt had met when she came over last night. They had pushed two chaise lounges together. They were drinking coffee, sharing a blanket in the cool air, and talking in soft voices.
He couldn’t tell what they were saying. All he knew was that Laura needed it right now, and he didn’t want to interrupt or intrude. After several moments he backed out and returned to his car.
He shivered and climbed in behind the wheel. He fought off a yawn as he headed back toward the freeway. The coffeehouse on Pacific Avenue looked too busy to deal with. When he spotted the Jack in the Box, he pulled into the drive-thru lane and ordered a large coffee with two sugars. The paper cup was hot to the touch and warmed his hands. Removing the top, he took a first sip and felt his stomach begin to glow.
The caffeine seemed to revive him, and he started driving. He felt the sudden need to keep moving and wondered if he was running away from something. Seeing Hughes’s SUV parked in the drive must have been the trigger. He had thoughts in his head. A steady stream rolling just beneath the surface. His past, his present, his future.
No wonder he wasn’t thinking right . . .
He had no idea where he was going. Still, he could see himself. He could see himself from behind, almost as if he were driving the car in his rearview mirror. A metallic silver Nissan. Almost as if he were the man driving the Nissan.
He could see himself.
He was parking his car and getting out with his cup of coffee. He was pushing another piece of nicotine gum against his cheek and wishing for a Marlboro again. He was walking into the park. He was hiking down the long row of oak trees in
“Grace was talking about the two of them seeing Millie Brown’s body staked to the ground.”
Cabrera waited a moment, mulling something over, then looked back. “For the record, Jones, I’m sorry I lost it out there with Lane.”
Matt didn’t say anything.
Cabrera loosened his collar. “I talked it over with Grace. He said the same thing happened to him and Rodriguez.”
“And what’s that?”
“What you were just talking about. Millie Brown. The way they found her. He said it really shook them up. Frankie has to deal with Novakoff’s murder, and now his partner’s dead, too. No wonder he’s not thinking right.”
Matt didn’t like the tone of Cabrera’s voice. It sounded like he was trying to placate him. It sounded like bullshit. He shot his new partner a touch-and-go look. He could feel the anger stirring in his gut but kept his mouth shut. When Cabrera turned back to his computer, Matt got up and walked out of the room.
CHAPTER 15
No wonder he wasn’t thinking right . . .
Matt pulled out of the lot in his Honda, drove up Wilcox, and made a right on Franklin. After a few minutes he picked up Los Feliz, heading east toward the Golden State Freeway. Fifteen minutes later he was in Glendale, making the climb into the hills. When he saw Hughes’s house just ahead, he pulled up to the walkway and parked.
He wasn’t sure if he was here because he felt like he needed to check in on Laura or because he needed a break from Cabrera. Either way, the short drive seemed like a good idea.
He walked up to the house and rang the doorbell. Feeling a chill in the air—the steady breeze—he zipped up his sweatshirt and waited. When Laura didn’t come to the door, he checked the window before starting around the house. He saw Laura’s car in front of the garage. Hughes’s silver Escalade had been returned from the dealership and was parked off to the side. Matt stared at it for a while, felt his chest tighten, then stepped into the side yard.
He could hear Laura’s voice as he eased around the corner and looked down the hill at the pool. She was with the woman who lived next door. The woman Matt had met when she came over last night. They had pushed two chaise lounges together. They were drinking coffee, sharing a blanket in the cool air, and talking in soft voices.
He couldn’t tell what they were saying. All he knew was that Laura needed it right now, and he didn’t want to interrupt or intrude. After several moments he backed out and returned to his car.
He shivered and climbed in behind the wheel. He fought off a yawn as he headed back toward the freeway. The coffeehouse on Pacific Avenue looked too busy to deal with. When he spotted the Jack in the Box, he pulled into the drive-thru lane and ordered a large coffee with two sugars. The paper cup was hot to the touch and warmed his hands. Removing the top, he took a first sip and felt his stomach begin to glow.
The caffeine seemed to revive him, and he started driving. He felt the sudden need to keep moving and wondered if he was running away from something. Seeing Hughes’s SUV parked in the drive must have been the trigger. He had thoughts in his head. A steady stream rolling just beneath the surface. His past, his present, his future.
No wonder he wasn’t thinking right . . .
He had no idea where he was going. Still, he could see himself. He could see himself from behind, almost as if he were driving the car in his rearview mirror. A metallic silver Nissan. Almost as if he were the man driving the Nissan.
He could see himself.
He was parking his car and getting out with his cup of coffee. He was pushing another piece of nicotine gum against his cheek and wishing for a Marlboro again. He was walking into the park. He was hiking down the long row of oak trees in
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