exam. They stuck together through the police academy and had been friends ever since. Chuck had been a groomsman at Matt’s wedding to Alison, and just last week, Matt had been one of the few buddies willing to work for pizza and beer when Chuck loaded the U-Haul and moved to my place.
“Did Johnson tell you that Percy had a woman over a couple of nights ago? She parked in someone else’s spot?”
“Yeah. A pissed-off neighbor wrote down the license plate.”
“Right. Well, the plate came back to Matt, and the neighbor’s description of the driver matched Alison. Ray called her. She’d been seeing Percy for a few weeks.”
“Oh, my God.” I suppose I should know from my own experience with marriage that you can never tell who might be cheating, but it seemed hard to imagine with the Yorks. As I understood it, Matt had fallen so hard when he met Alison Madison working in the precinct records room that his sergeant made him choose between a transfer or a shift change to avoid the romantic distraction. Matt chose the transfer so he and Alison would still have the same schedule. I’d had dinner with them a couple of times since Chuck and I had become an item, and I could have sworn that same intensity was still there. Last I heard, they were trying to get pregnant. In retrospect, maybe it had been a last ditch effort at happiness.
“So now,” Chuck said, “just to make sure we’re squared away, we’ve got to nail down where Matt and Alison were on Sunday night. Alison was at a baby shower with ten other women, but no one has talked to Matt yet. I told Ray I’d do it.”
“I’m sorry, Chuck. I know that’ll be hard.”
“It’ll suck, basically. But, hey, what are you gonna do, right? Where are we on the warrant?”
I knew Chuck well enough to know he desperately wanted a change of subject and mood. “Have you been fretting over there?”
“When are you going to get it, babe? Worrying gets you nowhere. It’s all about the zen. We good to go?”
“Nope. Say bye-bye to that warrant.”
“Yeah, right.”
“No, I’m serious. Judge Wilson granted the order; the warrant’s void until further notice.”
He waited for the expected “just kidding.” When he didn’t get it, the cussing commenced. “What the—”
I had to smile. “What about the zen, babe?”
“I apparently lost it with the contents of my bladder.”
I walked him through the compromise Judge Wilson had hammered out.
“So when are we supposed to do this thing?” he asked.
“Soon, I think. The attorney will call me once he knows who’s going to help us on the newspaper’s end.”
“And you can only have one person with you?”
I needed to pick between Mike and Chuck. I cringed at the thought of publicly opting for my beau, but I trusted Chuck’s discretion more than Mike’s. The son of a former Oregon governor, Detective Charles Landon Forbes, Jr., might choose to eschew political niceties, but he understood them enough to tolerate them when necessary. With Mike, what you saw was what you got.
“Why don’t you find something else for Mike to do? You and I will take care of the files.”
“Sounds hot.”
“You say that about everything.”
“With you? You know it.”
I was still smiling while I disconnected and dialed Johnson’s cell number.
“Hey, it’s Sam. You get my message from Mike about the neighbor?”
“We’re on it.”
It had been six months, but the MCT detectives were still getting used to my style. I kept a closer watch on investigations than a lot of the other DAs. “Did you talk to her?”
“Just walked out, in fact. Nice lady, but not real helpful. She didn’t bother turning around to look at whoever was talking to Crenshaw, so there’s no way we’re getting an ID from her. She can’t even remember anything about the voice, other than that he had an Or-uh-gahn accent.” He emphasized the last syllable of our state’s name, the way people from the rest of the country
“Did Johnson tell you that Percy had a woman over a couple of nights ago? She parked in someone else’s spot?”
“Yeah. A pissed-off neighbor wrote down the license plate.”
“Right. Well, the plate came back to Matt, and the neighbor’s description of the driver matched Alison. Ray called her. She’d been seeing Percy for a few weeks.”
“Oh, my God.” I suppose I should know from my own experience with marriage that you can never tell who might be cheating, but it seemed hard to imagine with the Yorks. As I understood it, Matt had fallen so hard when he met Alison Madison working in the precinct records room that his sergeant made him choose between a transfer or a shift change to avoid the romantic distraction. Matt chose the transfer so he and Alison would still have the same schedule. I’d had dinner with them a couple of times since Chuck and I had become an item, and I could have sworn that same intensity was still there. Last I heard, they were trying to get pregnant. In retrospect, maybe it had been a last ditch effort at happiness.
“So now,” Chuck said, “just to make sure we’re squared away, we’ve got to nail down where Matt and Alison were on Sunday night. Alison was at a baby shower with ten other women, but no one has talked to Matt yet. I told Ray I’d do it.”
“I’m sorry, Chuck. I know that’ll be hard.”
“It’ll suck, basically. But, hey, what are you gonna do, right? Where are we on the warrant?”
I knew Chuck well enough to know he desperately wanted a change of subject and mood. “Have you been fretting over there?”
“When are you going to get it, babe? Worrying gets you nowhere. It’s all about the zen. We good to go?”
“Nope. Say bye-bye to that warrant.”
“Yeah, right.”
“No, I’m serious. Judge Wilson granted the order; the warrant’s void until further notice.”
He waited for the expected “just kidding.” When he didn’t get it, the cussing commenced. “What the—”
I had to smile. “What about the zen, babe?”
“I apparently lost it with the contents of my bladder.”
I walked him through the compromise Judge Wilson had hammered out.
“So when are we supposed to do this thing?” he asked.
“Soon, I think. The attorney will call me once he knows who’s going to help us on the newspaper’s end.”
“And you can only have one person with you?”
I needed to pick between Mike and Chuck. I cringed at the thought of publicly opting for my beau, but I trusted Chuck’s discretion more than Mike’s. The son of a former Oregon governor, Detective Charles Landon Forbes, Jr., might choose to eschew political niceties, but he understood them enough to tolerate them when necessary. With Mike, what you saw was what you got.
“Why don’t you find something else for Mike to do? You and I will take care of the files.”
“Sounds hot.”
“You say that about everything.”
“With you? You know it.”
I was still smiling while I disconnected and dialed Johnson’s cell number.
“Hey, it’s Sam. You get my message from Mike about the neighbor?”
“We’re on it.”
It had been six months, but the MCT detectives were still getting used to my style. I kept a closer watch on investigations than a lot of the other DAs. “Did you talk to her?”
“Just walked out, in fact. Nice lady, but not real helpful. She didn’t bother turning around to look at whoever was talking to Crenshaw, so there’s no way we’re getting an ID from her. She can’t even remember anything about the voice, other than that he had an Or-uh-gahn accent.” He emphasized the last syllable of our state’s name, the way people from the rest of the country
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