Read Online Every Wickedness by Cathy Vasas-Brown - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cathy Vasas-Brown
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mesmerized by the goings-on, yawned, stretched, then jumped from the top of Beth’s armoire and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Beth followed the tabby, opened hima can of something revolting, then locked up her house and headed toward her Audi.
Beth judged Van Ness to be the quickest route to Jordan’s house in Noe Valley, but by the time she reached the O’Farrell Street intersection, traffic was hopelessly entangled, and a uniformed police officer was waving traffic east to avoid an accident ahead.
The convoy of vehicles crawled along O’Farrell, giving Beth the opportunity to read a painted mural outside one of the city’s porn palaces.
Admission is limited to adults who will not be offended should they observe any type of sexual activity
.
Reflexively, Beth pushed the button for her automatic door locks. As she did so, she noticed movement in the doorway under the theatre’s marquee. A man emerged from the shadows. He wore a pale green checked leisure suit, beige straw fedora. Though the hat was angled oddly over the man’s face, Beth had no difficulty recognizing Rex McKenna.
Her first impulse was to hunch behind the wheel so Rex wouldn’t see her. Their next meeting would be uncomfortable enough, with only one item on the agenda: the NSF cheque. But Rex’s gaze remained fixed on the sidewalk.
What Rex McKenna did in his spare time was none of her business. Still, if he poured his cash into establishments like the one she’d just driven by, and if he wasn’t attracting new clients or doing anything to keep the old ones, she just might have her sample room sooner than she thought.
15
M anuel Fuentes propped his feet on Jim Kearns’s desk. His Senior Inspector status allowed him that privilege. Too, he and Kearns had once been partners, in the early days, before Kearns had cut the determined swath through to lieutenant. “Still can’t smell him, can you, Jimmy?” Fuentes’s black eyes were dull, all the usual spark gone.
“Not a whiff. You?”
Fuentes shook his head.
Kearns was doodling on a pad of yellow paper. He had been in his thinking posture for close to an hour, fingers laced behind his neck, gaze focused on the ceiling. When his neck began to stiffen, he switched to doodling. Now, he took a good hard look at Fuentes who was rolling a wad of gum between his index finger and thumb. “That bitch Devereaux is right, Manny. This guy scares me.”
“Why should you be immune? We’re all scared. Don’t let Devereaux get to you.” He shot the gum into the garbage can.
“You mean she’s still alive? Damn.”
Though it had been two days since Kearns had watched Devereaux’s video, he was still plagued by strobe-like images of the woman, shrieking her opinions at the masses. It hadn’t taken long for othermembers of the media to follow Devereaux’s lead and jump on the barbecue-the-cops bandwagon. This afternoon’s
Examiner
had published “Dispirited Police Seek Public Understanding” on its front page. Kearns had been quoted: “The police always make the news when the public perceives us to be unresponsive, and when the public’s afraid. Now, more than ever, we require the support of our citizens. The force is working round the clock, pursuing every lead, following up dozens of phone calls, to catch this criminal.”
In the article, the reporter cited several recent instances where police were being held accountable for their vices. One inspector was currently doing community service and spending several weekends in jail after hitting her live-in lover over the head with a full jug of Almaden. Another, who worked in the Juvenile Bureau educating kids about alcohol and drugs, had been arrested for drunk driving.
“There have been mistakes made,” Kearns acknowledged to the press. “The police force is constantly held up to scrutiny. The best of us can fall from the pedestal. I assure the public that corrective measures as well as preventive ones are being taken to provide the
Beth judged Van Ness to be the quickest route to Jordan’s house in Noe Valley, but by the time she reached the O’Farrell Street intersection, traffic was hopelessly entangled, and a uniformed police officer was waving traffic east to avoid an accident ahead.
The convoy of vehicles crawled along O’Farrell, giving Beth the opportunity to read a painted mural outside one of the city’s porn palaces.
Admission is limited to adults who will not be offended should they observe any type of sexual activity
.
Reflexively, Beth pushed the button for her automatic door locks. As she did so, she noticed movement in the doorway under the theatre’s marquee. A man emerged from the shadows. He wore a pale green checked leisure suit, beige straw fedora. Though the hat was angled oddly over the man’s face, Beth had no difficulty recognizing Rex McKenna.
Her first impulse was to hunch behind the wheel so Rex wouldn’t see her. Their next meeting would be uncomfortable enough, with only one item on the agenda: the NSF cheque. But Rex’s gaze remained fixed on the sidewalk.
What Rex McKenna did in his spare time was none of her business. Still, if he poured his cash into establishments like the one she’d just driven by, and if he wasn’t attracting new clients or doing anything to keep the old ones, she just might have her sample room sooner than she thought.
15
M anuel Fuentes propped his feet on Jim Kearns’s desk. His Senior Inspector status allowed him that privilege. Too, he and Kearns had once been partners, in the early days, before Kearns had cut the determined swath through to lieutenant. “Still can’t smell him, can you, Jimmy?” Fuentes’s black eyes were dull, all the usual spark gone.
“Not a whiff. You?”
Fuentes shook his head.
Kearns was doodling on a pad of yellow paper. He had been in his thinking posture for close to an hour, fingers laced behind his neck, gaze focused on the ceiling. When his neck began to stiffen, he switched to doodling. Now, he took a good hard look at Fuentes who was rolling a wad of gum between his index finger and thumb. “That bitch Devereaux is right, Manny. This guy scares me.”
“Why should you be immune? We’re all scared. Don’t let Devereaux get to you.” He shot the gum into the garbage can.
“You mean she’s still alive? Damn.”
Though it had been two days since Kearns had watched Devereaux’s video, he was still plagued by strobe-like images of the woman, shrieking her opinions at the masses. It hadn’t taken long for othermembers of the media to follow Devereaux’s lead and jump on the barbecue-the-cops bandwagon. This afternoon’s
Examiner
had published “Dispirited Police Seek Public Understanding” on its front page. Kearns had been quoted: “The police always make the news when the public perceives us to be unresponsive, and when the public’s afraid. Now, more than ever, we require the support of our citizens. The force is working round the clock, pursuing every lead, following up dozens of phone calls, to catch this criminal.”
In the article, the reporter cited several recent instances where police were being held accountable for their vices. One inspector was currently doing community service and spending several weekends in jail after hitting her live-in lover over the head with a full jug of Almaden. Another, who worked in the Juvenile Bureau educating kids about alcohol and drugs, had been arrested for drunk driving.
“There have been mistakes made,” Kearns acknowledged to the press. “The police force is constantly held up to scrutiny. The best of us can fall from the pedestal. I assure the public that corrective measures as well as preventive ones are being taken to provide the
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