Read Online Trace of Doubt by Erica Orloff - Free Book Online
Authors: Erica Orloff
Tags: Suspense
Ads: Link
big bear of a man—part African-American, part Native American, one hundred percent the real deal.
“Ben, Tommy and I all went out for a proverbial bender. We discussed life, God, Buddha, women and Occam’s Razor, among other things. And we’ve been comrades ever since. You need a detective, so I got you one, Billie. Voilà. Your detective. Now you get to be somebody else’s headache for a while.”
“I don’t need a detective,” I snapped at him.
“I told you she was a bit ornery.” Lewis smiled at Ben, speaking in an affected whisper as if I was some delusional woman.
The detective stifled a grin. But there his eyes danced again.
“Look, Mr. Sato,” I said, “I’m not sure what false pretense Lewis brought you here on, but I’m sure my cold case isn’t your top priority.”
The waiter came over, and Ben ordered, apparently in fluent Japanese. Lewis ordered me a sake and him a Kirin.
“The sake will help her mellow out,” Lewis said. “I find it’s really essential. The Kirin’s to help me deal with her.”
I punched him on his thigh underneath the table. “Ouch!” Lewis said, quite loudly. Ben Sato had a bemused expression.
After our waiter went back to the bar area, Ben looked poised to say something but he kept silent for a time, and I glanced at Lewis and noticed that he wasn’t rushing to shoot off at the mouth the way he usually did. He was being, dare I say, for Lewis, patient. So I waited.
Finally the guy started talking. “I came here eight years ago from Japan. There, very little crime exists. You can walk the streets of even the biggest cities in an atmosphere of peace. No fear.”
I thought about the streets of some of the neighborhoods where my father and brother operated. Peace and safety weren’t what came to mind.
“I realized,” Ben said softly, “that I was living in a state of perpetual irony. I was called to be a warrior in a place that didn’t need one. And so eventually I came here.”
“And met Lewis, of all people,” I said dryly.
“And met Lewis,” he replied. He smiled at me. “I think of Lewis as a warrior, too.”
“Yeah, he’s a warrior all right. Has he shown you his brain collection yet?”
Ben nodded. “Lewis is admittedly a different sort of warrior. Now tell me…from the beginning.”
I looked across the table at him. I had nothing to lose, and Lewis was right. I needed someone inside the police department to help me resurrect the trail.
Ben Sato wasn’t like any other detective I had ever been around, who usually punctuated and interrupted people’s sentences or asked lots of questions. Ben sat back and just listened in complete silence. He didn’t interrupt, he didn’t stop me to ask me to fill in any blanks. He didn’t take notes. And so in one fell swoop, I told him about my mother’s disappearance, about my father’s “career” and how that meant the police weren’t all that interested in the case, on through the long dormancy until the Suicide King case and my appearances on television, to now receiving the letter, being left the souvenir, the incident at the warehouse and, finally, the possibility that my mother had an affair with a mysterious man named Andrew.
When I was finished, he didn’t say anything, which was disconcerting. I didn’t know whether that meant he thought I was out of my mind, or whether he thought the killer really was returning to torment me.
I looked over at Lewis, who seemed completely unperturbed that Ben was so silent. I tried not to look irritated.
Our waiter approached our table and took our sushi orders. Ben again ordered in Japanese. Lewis ordered a spider roll.
“Don’t tell Ripper,” he told me.
Ignoring him, I ordered a tuna sashimi dinner. And then, finally, Ben looked me in the eyes.
“There is nothing worse than a family left without resolution. I believe it’s like the Greek myth of Achlys. Do you know it?”
I shook my head.
“She was the first being ever in
“Ben, Tommy and I all went out for a proverbial bender. We discussed life, God, Buddha, women and Occam’s Razor, among other things. And we’ve been comrades ever since. You need a detective, so I got you one, Billie. Voilà. Your detective. Now you get to be somebody else’s headache for a while.”
“I don’t need a detective,” I snapped at him.
“I told you she was a bit ornery.” Lewis smiled at Ben, speaking in an affected whisper as if I was some delusional woman.
The detective stifled a grin. But there his eyes danced again.
“Look, Mr. Sato,” I said, “I’m not sure what false pretense Lewis brought you here on, but I’m sure my cold case isn’t your top priority.”
The waiter came over, and Ben ordered, apparently in fluent Japanese. Lewis ordered me a sake and him a Kirin.
“The sake will help her mellow out,” Lewis said. “I find it’s really essential. The Kirin’s to help me deal with her.”
I punched him on his thigh underneath the table. “Ouch!” Lewis said, quite loudly. Ben Sato had a bemused expression.
After our waiter went back to the bar area, Ben looked poised to say something but he kept silent for a time, and I glanced at Lewis and noticed that he wasn’t rushing to shoot off at the mouth the way he usually did. He was being, dare I say, for Lewis, patient. So I waited.
Finally the guy started talking. “I came here eight years ago from Japan. There, very little crime exists. You can walk the streets of even the biggest cities in an atmosphere of peace. No fear.”
I thought about the streets of some of the neighborhoods where my father and brother operated. Peace and safety weren’t what came to mind.
“I realized,” Ben said softly, “that I was living in a state of perpetual irony. I was called to be a warrior in a place that didn’t need one. And so eventually I came here.”
“And met Lewis, of all people,” I said dryly.
“And met Lewis,” he replied. He smiled at me. “I think of Lewis as a warrior, too.”
“Yeah, he’s a warrior all right. Has he shown you his brain collection yet?”
Ben nodded. “Lewis is admittedly a different sort of warrior. Now tell me…from the beginning.”
I looked across the table at him. I had nothing to lose, and Lewis was right. I needed someone inside the police department to help me resurrect the trail.
Ben Sato wasn’t like any other detective I had ever been around, who usually punctuated and interrupted people’s sentences or asked lots of questions. Ben sat back and just listened in complete silence. He didn’t interrupt, he didn’t stop me to ask me to fill in any blanks. He didn’t take notes. And so in one fell swoop, I told him about my mother’s disappearance, about my father’s “career” and how that meant the police weren’t all that interested in the case, on through the long dormancy until the Suicide King case and my appearances on television, to now receiving the letter, being left the souvenir, the incident at the warehouse and, finally, the possibility that my mother had an affair with a mysterious man named Andrew.
When I was finished, he didn’t say anything, which was disconcerting. I didn’t know whether that meant he thought I was out of my mind, or whether he thought the killer really was returning to torment me.
I looked over at Lewis, who seemed completely unperturbed that Ben was so silent. I tried not to look irritated.
Our waiter approached our table and took our sushi orders. Ben again ordered in Japanese. Lewis ordered a spider roll.
“Don’t tell Ripper,” he told me.
Ignoring him, I ordered a tuna sashimi dinner. And then, finally, Ben looked me in the eyes.
“There is nothing worse than a family left without resolution. I believe it’s like the Greek myth of Achlys. Do you know it?”
I shook my head.
“She was the first being ever in
Similar Books
