Chapter 7

Claire's eyes fluttered open to daylight. She took a few moments to remember where she was, what had happened and feel that she was doing alright regardless of how battered she felt. Cautiously she rose. A note fluttered from the breeze that passed through the opened window slat.

Claire,
I've gone for a walk…I have a destination in mind. I will be back before dark. I left you a whistle. If you need anything…use it. You have friends hanging around just in case you need help.
Charlotte

Claire studied the handwriting for a few moments and the name. It was interesting that the writing was relaxed and difficult to read until the name. It looked stiff, like she had to remember how to spell her name.

Maybe she was writing her name slower than she would normally so you can understand it, nutball. You already have a mystery…a deadly one if you don't concentrate on it.

Claire got up and pulled the wall partitions out for her shower. She was not going to walk up the hill for a shower. She sat on the toilet and showered as best she could. She felt tired when she thought she should not. Turning forty made her a wimp. Surely a younger person could take a beating and carry on normally after a night of sleep …drugged sleep.

Claire laughed at herself. "Damn, woman. You should be happy this rough and tumble isn't your bag."

She rinsed the soap from her short hair and then finished up the rest of her washing quickly. She slid open the partition that led to their beds, picking up the towel and drying herself off. Her mind was wandering over nothing important. She turned, remembering she had forgotten to get some clean clothes.

Charlotte was standing in the passage way watching her. Claire stood very still; both women saying nothing and doing nothing for a timeless moment.

"Need some clothes?"

Claire nodded and dropped the towel on her bed. As casual as she could be, she walked towards the armoire, giving Charlotte the choice of either brushing by her or backing up. Charlotte backed up to the armoire and opened it for Claire. She handed Claire a pair of cleaned jeans. Glancing in the closet she could see that her stack of soiled clothing was now hung up and smelling fresh.

"I did the laundry…my one set of clothing was in need of washing."

Claire stood close to Charlotte. "Who are you?" she asked softly.

Charlotte raised her eyebrows. She handed Claire a pair of socks, underwear and a T-shirt. "You keep asking me that."

Claire took the clothes. "Yeah, because you don't feel right!" she told her frustrated.

"Feel right? Oh, my. That's a twist to an old one," Charlotte told her dryly. "I used to hear that while someone was feeling me up."

Claire returned to her bed and tossed the clothing on the bed. As she dressed her mind was on Charlotte's comment. "Are you saying…that you're a cross dresser?" she asked unbelievingly.

"No. Been there, past that."

"A transgender?"

Charlotte nodded.

Claire let out a whoosh. "I…usually…"

"Expecting the exaggerated feminine mannerisms?"

"Well…the only transgenders I know act like flaming queens," Claire rushed out before she could censor herself. She was off balance and annoyed that this somehow got by her.

"Well…it's like this…heterosexual women express femininity in different ways and degrees and depending on their critics, some don't express much at all. And just like not all gay men are flaming queens, not all transgenders look like flawed effigies of effeminate women."

Claire took a deep breath, and waited a few moments not wanting to say something from a defensive position, which may be insensitive.

Charlotte sat on her bed and waited while Claire put on her shoes and socks, no doubt gathering herself. Charlotte had been through this countless times and was wondering how Claire would handle it. So far their relationship was not one based on attraction so she did not see anything more than discomfort on Claire's part.

"Are you really a bounty hunter?" Claire asked, staring directly in her eyes.

Charlotte grinned at the unexpected question. "Yes."

"And you really got jumped by the guy you were hunting…"

"Yes."

"I guess your partner knows about you?"

"Third country cousin, as we say."

"What does …sorry…I…"

"Ask," she told her firmly.

"What does…well I guess your family's not happy with the surgery."

"As a matter of fact…they helped pay for it."

Claire blinked her eyes and backtracked on the conversation.

"When my father is now asked about his son, he feels he can honestly say 'he's dead,' and not have to elaborate further. Makes his relationships at work and his church acceptable."

"Oh…" Claire breathed in, feeling pain for a loss she imagined Charlotte felt. Claire suspected she was either cycling or the drugs were making her too damn emotional.

Charlotte leaned forward and wiped one of the tears from Claire's cheek. Claire leaned into the hand, feeling the warmth.

Charlotte leaned back. "So…what are you going to do about your situation?" Charlotte asked.

Claire gently cleared her throat. "I need to think about that." She stood up and went to make coffee, needing to move. Her movements were focused on measuring two leveled spoons of Hazelnut coffee grounds into the filter, and the water that was filled exactly to the line and then poured into the well.

Leaning back on the toilet/shower door, she rubbed her sore jaw. "There has to be something more about that box," she muttered more to herself than Charlotte who was watching her.

"If it was drugs they were really after…they sure did miss hit," Charlotte agreed. "Especially if the group on the beach were as open in displaying it as Kenny reported, or just there as a decoy."

Claire looked over at her startled. "Yeah." Then she let out an exasperated sigh. "Damn, but a game within a game. I just can't believe someone put drugs in my art pack. They defiled something that's sacred to me."

Charlotte's lips twitched as she listened to her hostess, deciding teasing her about a backpack that could easily be replaced with another was not something she was ready to hear without feeling mocked. "So…it would have to be an intentional break into your residence to plant it," she said instead, thinking the probability of that would have Claire rethink her steps on when she left her pack unsupervised recently.

Claire pulled out two cups and poured a nondairy creamer in hers and left Charlotte's black. The two women took their usual seats and let the silence remain until they got settled.

"The last time I took it out was three weeks ago when I kayaked out in the marsh in Irvine. If I am to believe that I was the intended mark…then there has to be something more in that box. I would go and retrieve it, but now I'm so damn nervous about getting caught with it it's gonna stay where it is for a while." She sipped her coffee thinking about how it linked in with her fuzzy memory of the killing of her partner. She shook her head frustrated. The only connection was the ring.

Her eyes lifted to stare into a pale shade of green eyes that stared back at her. Time passed slowly as the two regarded each other.

Teddy's yap, announced someone he knew was approaching. Both women glanced out of the window. The two Bob's were climbing up the river bed and approaching the van.

Claire opened the door and stepped out.

"Whooo," Bobbie told her at the sight of her bruised face

"Ouch," Bob empathized.

"Hey, guys. You met Charlotte?" She gestured to Charlotte who had stepped out with her.

They nodded.

"We got some bad news girl. Sit down," Bob told her in a mocking voice. They all sat around the outside picnic table.

"Yeah? Break it to me gently," Claire told him, holding her heart.

Bob put a voice scrambler on the table. "Your little drug box had a 5 carat diamond in it."

"How the hell did you find it?" Claire asked outraged. Then she leaned forward. "A diamond?! Five?" She leaned back trying to picture the size of it. "Isn't that huge?"

"For the normal public crowd, yeah. One carat usually breaks a newly weds pocket at about $17,000. Five goes for about $300,000. This may go for more since it has good color." Bobbie explained.

"I spotted you climbing a tree…a pretty funny sight too. You're lucky I was there and found it," Bob admitted with a grin.

"Because he's so damn honest is why you're lucky," Bobbie pointed out. "After that damn FBI cluster fuck, no way are we going to get caught up in that and ruin our nice and quiet retirement."

His lover smiled. "Yeah. We like our retirement the way it is…boring."

"Okay…okay. So what did you do with the damn jewel?"

"We gave it to the local PD. They nearly fainted when they saw the diamond and after their jeweler gave an appraisal…" Bob started to laugh.

"They were so damn nervous they had four armed uniforms walk the jeweler over to his safe and had him lock it up. They'll put an advertisement out for it and if no one claims it…they keep it." Bobbie informed her.

"Shit," Claire told them quietly. "I can see now all the gem dealers pulling out their receipts to prove it's theirs…only, I have a feeling…that diamond was not part of a usual purchase."

"Could be," Bob agreed.

"You think those FBI agents were after it?" Charlotte asked the two men.

"If they were, that one diamond is not enough to get caught for a bad bust," Claire informed them and they nodded in agreement.

"So…the question is where there is one will there be more?" Claire asked. "This is not making sense. For sure the box was placed in my pack for a reason…and not by me. Two scenarios can go from here. One is that the diamond was stolen by the person who was supposed to plant the box on me and he or she did not get a chance to remove the diamond. The other scenario is that the drugs and diamond were meant to be found on me…which means that diamond is recognizable by law enforcement or by someone who would sit up and take notice. So…I guess now that the diamond's whereabouts has been posted…we wait and see. What did you tell the cops?"

"Rey knows the local chief. He did Rey a favor and put it down as a John Doe that turned it in only thinking drugs were in the box," Bob said.

"He'll keep Rey abreast of what's happening. Your name did not come up at all…but I'm sure he suspects this has to do with the FBI bust," Bobbie added.

"This is like a dream where I can't figure out what the hell is important and what is just distraction," Claire bemoaned.

"I know that pack of yours is only for your art, but could anyone have gotten to it?" Bob asked.

Claire shook her head. "I don't think so. I've been going over it in my head. Usually I'm vigilant about my belongings and would know if someone was lurking about them."

They were all silent for a while. The sky became overcast while they sat, but it usually did in late November. Only birds chirped with an occasional yell from fellow campers disturbed the silence. They all focused on the one bird that was bouncing from one branch to another.

"What about the photographer?" Claire asked.

"ATF agent. Doris nearly broke his nose when she punched his camera in his face."

"ATF? FBI. What is going on?"

Both Bobs shook their heads. "He wouldn't say. We have some contacts still which we are prodding for those very questions. When we know, we'll let you know."

Claire stretched her legs out under the table. "Well…I guess I'm back to focusing on my vacation." She sighed. "Gawds… where do I begin?"

The others laughed.

"You coming over tonight for cards?" Bobbie asked.

"Not me. Charlotte's the card shark."

"Charlotte? You're welcome to join the gang. We won't hold it against you that you're a bounty hunter. Just remember…we take no prisoners."

"Don't mind if I do. Where's the game?"

"At the market. Dinner is at five. Doris and Sandy said they would take care of preparing dinner. The game commences right after. We don't use real money…don't want the local cops busting us for gambling," Bob joked.

"Uh huh," Charlotte commented, suspecting that was a lie.

When the two left Claire looked over at her. "I can loan you a twenty. That's all they bet per night."

"Thanks. I'll pay ya back."

"I'll take it out in trade," Claire said before she could stop it. "The van needs cleaning," she added hastily.

"I'm sure."

Chapter 8

Claire fell asleep with a movie running. She did not make it past the introduction. The shifting of the van woke her. Her heart beat rapidly as she struggled to wakeup enough to gage if it was danger or just Charlotte returning. Claire rose from her bed, turning on the small light so Charlotte could find her way. Unsteadily she moved over Teddy, and fell forward.

Claire stepped toward her to stop her fall. Both were propelled backwards and Claire came to sit on the console that separated the two beds. Charlotte straightened herself with difficulty because Claire had her arms wrapped protectively around her. Claire could feel Charlotte's heart beat against her and for a moment was taken aback by thoughts that entailed more than a friendly embrace.

Instead, she helped right the swaying woman so she could collapse on her bed.

"Ouch!" Charlotte mumbled as her head hit the panel.

"Did you have a good time?" Claire asked. However, soft snores came from Charlotte's prone figure. Claire started to undress Charlotte. Her hands cupped her calf as she pulled off her loafer and then the other, carefully storing the shoes in the cupboard below the bed. She reached her hands up under the loose pant legs and pulled down her socks, noting how smooth her legs were. Her hands reached for the belt and they were stopped by two hands holding her wrists firmly.

"Thank you, but I can manage from here," Charlotte told her sleepily.

Claire nodded, sinking back on her bed. "Good night, Charlotte," she whispered.

"Uh huh," a sleepy voice answered.
*****

The next morning, Charlotte was gone. She left a note on the newly made bed. Claire knew it was newly made because the linen smelled fresh. Before reading the note Claire let Teddy out and made some coffee. She heated a bagel and covered it with sour cream. Carefully she set the bagel on a napkin on the table and her coffee. With a heavy heart, she sat at the small dinette and unfolded the note.

Claire,
Well, it looks like you have a good group of friends that will keep an eye out for you, so I'm heading back to my neck of the woods.
Thank you for the lift and for a nice place to stay while I regrouped.
C

She took a bite of her bagel and chewed it, swallowing it down with a mouthful of coffee. She slid the refolded note in her pocket and proceeded to collect her backpack. Water was added, a few snacks and she was ready. She got as far as the picnic table where she set the backpack on it and sat, watching the breeze shake a branch that hung over the stream she could not see.

Damn, why do I feel like I'm depressed? I don't know the woman enough to say she's a friend. She's an acquaintance. So, why the hell am I depressed that she left? I like being alone! Charlotte's not even close to being the type of woman I'm attracted to. I mean, would I even consider her dateable if she were not a…

Claire shifted on the bench, realizing that this unmentionable point had to do with her level of comfort in finding a place for Charlotte in her relationships.

What type of women did she go for anyway? Slim woman with dark short hair. Women that looked like young boys, she pointed out to herself cynically. However, now that she was older, she had been finding herself backing off from such liaisons, fearful not just because of STDs but because the young pickups could very well be young enough to be jail bait.

So what the hell is it about Charlotte that I'm finding uncomfortable? Nothing. You're just curious. Jeeze, the woman doesn't even put out any vibes. For all you know she could be interested in men. Eh. There you go. So what the hell are you so nervous about? Nervous. Yeah. I guess that's what this is about. I don't feel anything romantic for her. Gawds! It's about that time of the moon and I'm maudlin. Alright, get out and draw something.

"Hey, Hanson! Yo! You there?"

Startled she looked around for Gil. "Yeah," she got out without much enthusiasm. "Yeah, I'm here, Gil," she tried again louder.

He came from the path on the other side of the van. He wore his fanny pack with water bottle attached. "Hey, gal. Ouch!" He grimaced at her face. "I saw a real nice place the other day. I bet you haven't seen it yet," he coaxed. "Come-on. Grab your kit… Hey, Teddy. I brought you some cookies," he crooned to the fluffy dog that was bouncing around his legs.

The two headed up the path and then veered in a direction Claire seldom went since it was where the gang usually collectively gathered. Their silence was punctuated with their breathing and footfalls. They made occasional stops as one or the other enjoyed something spotted on the trail.

"Well…" Gil gestured to a small cleared area that flowers had taken root in, bursting into color amid the tangled broken branches of surrounding trees.

"Wow! How do they live surrounded by all this other stuff?" Claire promptly pulled out her sketch pad and pencils. While she sketched, Gil stretched his long legs out before him and sucked on his water.

"You wanna tell me what's bothering ya?" he asked when Claire paused to turn the page to begin her second sketch.

"Nothing's bothering me," she told him preoccupied with her sketch.

"Then why were you sitting for about an hour muttering to yourself," he objected.

She looked up at him annoyed. "Muttering to myself? What's with the sensitive chit chat," Claire demanded testily, annoyed that she was being monitored.

"I was worried that maybe with your history…don't get your dander up, gal. Hear me out. Getting knocked around by masked men is not something that ordinarily happens to cops. It makes for nightmare fodder if you don't talk about it."

"Well, I'm not having a problem with it," she replied tersely.

Gil nodded, but his look said he did not believe it.

"Listen, the first nightmare I have on that raid…you'll be the first person I'll call to talk about it."

"I've been in your shoes…fooling myself that I have other things to worry about and it was nothing to wake up in the dark with a gun pointed at me…but it did affect me. It nearly cost me my family before I got the notion to talk about it."

"I can't see you and Dolores carrying on a heart-to-heart chit chat without arguing."

He nodded. "It sounds like arguing, but it's the Italian blood in her. She doesn't realize she's shouting or that her excitement is so intense. What upsets her is if I back off and don't hear her out. But it wasn't her I went to at first…I went to my partner who was in the mist of a break up with his third wife and facing more child support payments."

Claire laughed, appreciating the irony. "Really, Gil, I don't have any subconscious problem with their method of dropping in on me. I just have a problem with why. It's something my chief is going to be asking me and I don't have an answer…and I'm not going to lie about the box…or the diamond."

"You're certainly in a rock and a hard place. Listen, and I'm really serious…if you need someone to talk to…use your phone or Email us. Don't hold it in, gal."

"Why do you feel we need this conversation? I'm curious," she assured him, so that he would not think she was trying to change the subject...just slow it down so she could figure out what brought this concern out.

He looked down at the drawing of the one flower set in the middle of prickly bushes, then looked out at the actual patch of flowers.

"'Cause you keep too many secrets and they're gonna eat you alive. A cop that has no partner to talk to…that's not a good sign for survival in the business."

"Ah, Gil. That's bullshit!"

"I was watching ya sit for over an hour just staring at the damn tree. I didn't want to disturb you in case you were creating something real complicated," he teased. "So, maybe ya got problems with your girlfriend?"

"Charlotte? She's not my girlfriend," she told him shocked.

"She's not a friend?" he asked mockingly.

"Well…ya. I guess so." She felt embarrassed to say she picked up a complete stranger along the side of the road and nothing happened or…damn! Why is it expected that something has to happen? I'm not a guy! Scoring isn't my second goal in life!

"As long as you don't read anything more into it. And I have no problems with her. I gave her a lift…gave her a place to stay for a while…we shared a raid…end of saga. She went back to her life. There is nothing going on with us, Gil," she blurted out in exasperation.

"Did she say good bye?"

"Yeeesss," she drew out sarcastically. "Come on, Gil. Out with it. What is this about? This can't be a father to daughter talk because I never had any with my father. And it isn't…"

"It's a friend to a friend, Claire. You have one week to process what happened here and to figure out what you're going to do with your life since you don't want any help. One week to get whatever is bothering you about Charlotte or this raid out of your head."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously not wanting to pursue his insistence that there was something between her and Charlotte.

"Because when you go back to work…you're gonna be someone's bait and I think you know that. If you quit the force…you'll still be bait." He gestured in the direction they had walked from. "That shit raid…someone screwed up and heads will be rolling."

Claire pulled her knee up and rested her chin on it. "Yeah. If it's someone in the department I guess I'll know by who got the ax…though that could be me. The chief and I aren't on friendly terms. As long as I'm a quiet little mouse that stays to my corner I don't get any gripes from him."

"Do you really want to live like that? I mean…there are a lot of people that don't like their jobs and then there are a hell of a lot of people that do. You're not that old. Have you tried to apply at another…okay. Well, what are you going to do when you get back then?"

"I honestly don't know right now." She rubbed her jaw and thought about what bothered her about the jewel the Bobs said was in the box. She looked over at Gil who was watching her. "Are you waiting for me to make a comment on that damn diamond?"

He nodded.

She shook her head. "I have no idea what it means. For all I know it could have been put in there by a courier that was stealing from his boss." She sighed. "What bothers me the most is that damn ring that FBI agent had…it was just like Sammies. Sammie said he inherited his." Claire started to laugh. "Maybe it's like the Bush family in the skull and bones club."

"Girl, don't even go there," Gil told her horrified. "Let's handle the lower level stuff. Now, I want you to consider this grandfather's advice…I've been giving a lot of that lately…"

Claire rolled her eyes but she knew Gil was hard core cop and retired or not…he was a man to listen to.

"Get your head on straight here. When you go back…you need to be sharp. You have good instincts and need to use them. We'll be here for you should you get in over your head. You hear me? You're family and we look after family."

"Okay. So, for the rest of the week, relax and don't think about work…" she glanced at him. "And don't dream and don't have any more unannounced group meetings."



Chapter 9

Claire drove her car slowly along the one way street looking for a parking space. It was three in the morning and she was hoping she would not have to park too far from her apartment.

She pulled into a space across the street from her building. She needed to remember that tomorrow was street cleaning and she had to move her car by nine. Instead of trying to take everything up she only took the box that had her laundry.

Tired felines uncurled from their sleep and yawned widely from their positions on the cat tree.

"Hey, guys. Ya miss me?" She dropped the box in the service porch and returned to boot up her PC. She was too wound up to sleep, besides she had napped at Gail and Marge's after they pried everything from her. The contents in the mysterious box that was mailed to their address in her name was a bunch of pencils with a local blind organization stamped on the sides. Claire insisted she did not donate any money to any organization that gave out pencils so they were all trying to figure out if it was some kind of code or message warning her about something. It got so silly she had laughed herself to sleep on their couch.

Suddenly Clair looked down at her PC's CPU box that was against her leg. She leaned down and pressed her hand on the side. It was warm as if it had been on.

When it came up she moved to check her I Spy program to see what was happening while she was gone. It had been wiped clean until up to the day she left. The odd thing about that was, she had not been on the computer that day. She eagerly went into it and was about to launch the search when she thought better of it.

She jumped up and activated her bug device, taking it through the entire apartment. Nothing. She suspected someone would not be that obvious. Her phone was inspected carefully. She had a voice scrambler attached and she made sure it was on. She called a number she knew by heart.

"Hi….I'm fine. I would not have called this early if I didn't know you get up about this time. I just got home and turned on my PC. It feels like it's been on….Yeah. Everything is clean except for the day I left, only, that day I didn't log on. I woke up late…I'd appreciate that. I got to be up by nine to move my car…good. See ya then. Bye and thanks."

Assured her friend would log on her PC and inspect it she restlessly walked around wondering what to do. Uncharacteristically she turned on the television and found an old movie was on. She plopped on the couch and after a few moments fell asleep.

****
Her head was pounding…only it did not hurt. Claire bolted up right, disorientated for a moment.

Home!

Someone rang her bell.

Opening up the door she was surprised to see Richard and then she remembered why she had called him early in the morning. Richard's parents, Gil and Doris had introduced the two because they had adopted her and felt she needed someone she could talk to. Before he became married to Kelly they went to gay bars together. Now Claire was a regular at their Bar-B-Qs and occasional holiday gatherings. Of Gil and Doris' three children, Richard was the only one that had not moved back home with his spouse. He was creative and recreated businesses when his services were no longer in demand. Right now he owned a computer business.

"Hey big sister, you look like shit," he kissed her on the cheek and pat her on the shoulder. "I logged on and put some serious filters on but I'm gonna pull out your hard drive." He had set her PC up on DSL and had security rights into her PC, mostly because she was always having problems with it and Richard remotely logged in to find out what was wrong with it. The last time was a virus that wiped out her entire hard drive.

"I'm going to make us some coffee," she told him as she started to shuffle to the kitchen.

"Better move your car first," he advised.

"Oh, that's right! Thanks. Be back in a bit," implying that it may take a while for her to find an available spot.

"Girl, you should just rent a room from us," he told her, knowing that she would want more than a room. It was a standing joke between because his spouse was very territorial.

She came back ten minutes later, breathless. "So…what did you find?"

"Don't know. I've removed your hard drive and put in a mirror of what you have. You are very lucky I kept this copy. You crash your PC more than anyone I know," he complained good naturedly.

"I bet Kelly does it more than me," she returned.

"Nope. He hates PCs. He does the housekeeping stuff, keeps the place clean and attractive and he cooks…but not the books," he added with a laugh. "Gawds. I had to shoo him out the other day…he was in one of those foppish moods of his. If I didn't know better, I would say he was on his period like you girls."

"He is a girl!" Claire laughed and then got serious. "Ah, Richard…do you know anything about transgenders?"

Richard looked at her over his glasses. "Hm. Met someone of interest in the woods?"

"I'm just curious."

"I don't know much about those sisters and brothers. Kelly would have a fit if I ever spoke to one of 'those' people. He feels threatened for some reason." Richard shrugged his shoulders in bafflement.

Claire shook her head also. "Want some coffee?"

"If you don't mind me taking it with me. I have to get to the shop and open up. I'm hiring a new gal," he grinned when Claire's eyebrows rose. "Gail recommended her. Got out of prison a few days ago. She is clean except for the drugs that she was caught with and sent away for. Nothing hard…marijuana."

"And here I thought it was because I heard Kelly complaining there was too much testosterone in the back room to be healthy."

Richard's face turned red, but he laughed. "Kelly sometimes gets in these insecure moods. So, when do you go back to work?"

"Tomorrow. Today I go and get a doctor's clearance."

"Why?"

"Because I got beat up on my vacation. The chief wants a licensed doctor to pass me. I guess he doesn't take Sandy as authority enough."

"All you do is sit at a desk," Richard objected.

"Hm. Well…maybe he wants to make sure when I file something, it goes in the right file." Her suspicion was that maybe he got his wish and she had been cleared to go back on the street. What a hell of a time to.

****
It was ten thirty and she found a parking space just vacated. The offices shared some of their parking space with the hospital. She sprinted to the medical office not wanting to show her appreciation of being squeezed in by being late. However, she ended up waiting for forty five minutes. As Dr. Ellis would tell her, it takes only one patient to back it up for everyone else.

Armed with Dr. Ellis's clean bill of health, including a comment to watch her cholesterol and a pamphlet on what to eat and not eat she headed back to her apartment to take a nap.

Hardly anyone was home during the day so she was able to park right in front of her apartment. To start off her nap she took a nice warm bath, soaking in herbal oils and then curled up around her pillow with two cats curling up against her.


Chapter 10

Claire sat up staring around her disorientated. She had the weirdest dream. She looked around for her dream journal but remembered she locked it up before she went on vacation. She did not trust anyone with any of her journals. This one had Charlotte and her joining up in the forty's style of male clothing and knocking off a smugglers cartel that was looking for their lost bag of diamonds. When she looked in the bag they found there was only dust…no diamonds, but the smugglers thought the two had switched bags and knew where they really were.

"King George," she whispered to the large fluffy orange tabby that was sitting at the foot of the bed ready to leap off. She suspected he was the cause of her waking. He hated the alarm and would wake her before it went off just so that she would turn it off quickly. Sure enough it started buzzing. Off went King George into the front room.

"I slept a whole day! I must have been tired…and now I'm real hungry."

Claire thumped the alarm off and pulled off her bed covers. She pulled on her running gear and managed to get out the front door without bumping into a doorway. She tried not to make too much noise as she ran down the stairs. Heading up the block, she cut to the left to go to the high school track. There were the usual early morning runners, which she joined, setting her own pace. There were no conversations between the early birds, just a polite nod while everyone focused on their laps and pulse.

In the time she gave herself Claire was one lap short of what she did before her vacation. However, it was not something she concerned herself with. A hard lesson she learned was to not criticize herself or to humiliate herself to do better. She had thought it was part of her personality and suffered through bouts of depression when she did not meet her personal demands…very often unreasonable, as Sandy had shown her.

Smiling she tossed her sweaty clothing towards the laundry basket and started her shower. Since her laundered uniform was delivered to the office, she only had to bring her briefcase that usually carried her pager and some magazines she was catching up on, her badge and semi-automatic. She cursed silently. She left those last two items in the van. Dressing quickly in pressed jeans, starched white blouse with a brocade vest, she pulled on her black boots with a thud as her heel hit the sole. She looked at herself in the mirror deciding that if her uniform was not delivered she would be okay for the day in what she was wearing.

She dialed Marge's number as she jumped into her car. "Hey, girl. Did I wake you?...I need to get my stuff out of your glove compartment…Great. Have a nice day."

Gail and Marge would already be gone when she arrived but Claire had a key to their house and could get the key to the van off the key holder in the kitchen. As she drove down the newly coated road she noticed the new speed bumps.

How did I miss those the other night? I must have really been tired.

She parked in their driveway and as she was letting herself into the backyard she noted a car driving by slowly. When she was back in her car and heading towards the freeway, she noticed the same car following her.

Just for the hell of it, she sped onto the freeway and after cutting between cars and getting off the freeway sooner than what she would normally, she was pleased when she parked at the police station that the same car was idling in the parking lot. She was not imagining things.

She thumped her nose at whoever was in the car and took the stairs two at a time and then ducked into the chief's office. He was not in, so she left the doctor's clearance in his mail slot. She shoved her briefcase under her desk and went into the locker room to see if her newly pressed and cleaned uniform was hanging on her locker.

"Hey, Hudson!"

She turned to look at Monica who was dressed in civvies but wore her badge looped over her belt.

"Hi, Monica. How ya doing?"

"Great! I got my promotion to detective…finally."

"Detective?" Claire repeated stupidly.

Sammie's boys club still occupied all the choice upper management positions, meaning they controlled who would be promoted and to where. They were not partial to women or to anyone not part of their 'old boys' network.

"Yep. You too." She looked around and then gestured for Claire to follow her into the women's restroom.

"Are you sure this is a good place to talk?" Claire asked suspiciously, because she had not had a chance to check it out herself.

"I checked it a few moments ago. Did you hear what happened while you were gone?"

"No."

"I thought the Chief had told you before you came back."

"I was just told to get a doctor's note saying I was healthy."

Monica looked at her curiously.

"Tell me what?" Claire prodded.

"The 'boys club' got busted…big time. All the detectives including brass, a few uniforms and a coroner. The chief is all that remains unscathed so you can image all the upper positions that opened. It didn't take long before a lot of hopefuls from other precincts have been knocking on the chief's door looking to fill the brass positions. There's also word that Sammie isn't dead," she told her barely holding her excitement in.

Claire leaned against the sink so it could hold her up. Her voice echoed hollowly in the rest room. "Really?"

"Looks like all the rumors of you being…you know…are full of holes. Anyway, they're trying out four new detectives. Two from outside of the city and you and I are their trainees."

"Where's the chief? Usually he's in early." She wanted to escape the gossip and hear it from a more reliable source.

"Probably at the courthouse. He's been there everyday early in the morning talking with the judge and prosecutor. Roll call in five minutes…it's great not to have to wear that damn uniform."

"Yeah," Claire commented, switching her attention to the immediate. She was not sure if she could just show up in street clothes without the chief making it official.

However, Chief Dobbs was sitting at his desk reading her doctor's report so Claire made a stop. She knocked and got the wave-in.

"Hi, ya Chief. Heard you had some excitement while I was gone," she blurted this out before she could stop it. Chief Dobbs never was a casual person and she was by no means on any friendly basis with him.

"Sit down, Hudson," he gestured to a chair.

Claire closed the door and did so. She reminded herself that there was nothing he could do to make her miserable because she could always go somewhere else for a job.

"I want to know what happened on your vacation."

Claire, anticipating that pulled out a copy of what she had given to the detective up north. He accepted it and laid it on his desk.

"Tell me in your own words."

Oh, shit.

*****
She missed roll call and felt thoroughly drained. She had started the story with her finding the box in her art pack up to being told what was in it besides drugs and the story that was given to the police.

She waited nervously wondering if he was going to fire her because she let the story Rey had given Chief Larmur go.

"I got a call from him. I'm sure he's going to be happy with the story as it is so he doesn't have to share whatever they can collect on the diamond with us." He handed her a new badge in a leather holder. "You're promoted back to detective. You'll be teamed with our new hire, Detective Harrison Harvard. He's been around and will be able to give you a good foundation. He'll also give me an appraisal as to whether you're detective material. Find yourself a desk that's not being used. You're dismissed…and welcome back."

Automatically Claire nodded her head and thanked him and walked out, still in shock. I'm Detective Hudson! Wow! Gotta tell the gang.

Claire stopped before the room that had one time been hers to share with others, but not feeling comfortable or welcomed. She wondered if she would feel different this time around. Stepping over the threshold she realized the desks had been moved around. They were paired. There was only one person sitting at a desk. He was an older man that was frowning at what he was reading. By his hand were two bottled waters and an uneaten apple.

"Detective Harvard?" she held out her hand. He glanced up at her and reached over to grasp her hand, studying her carefully.

"Hudson, is it?"

"Yeah."

He pointed to the desk across from his. "Four cases for you to study." Then he pointed to his inbox. He had over a dozen. "We have a ways to go and this is just the beginning. Every drug case handled by the last bunch of detectives we've been given to make sure there aren't any discrepancies that will be challenged in court."

"Ohh, gawds," she muttered under her breath. Since she filed them, she was familiar with them but not the details.

****
It was lunch, by the sound of her stomach. She closed the file and looked over at Harrison Harvard, her partner. She was already liking him because he came over to see what she was taking notes on and grunted his agreement. The four files that she was given, she had already gone through and finished her seventh.

"Let's take these seven…after lunch, and put our notes together and then hit the street. You got any contacts?" he asked as he held the door for her.

"No. Do you mind walking? There's a subway sandwich place two blocks up and a block from that the furniture store that was in two of these reports."

He nodded. "Good. I can do with walking."

Before they left, Claire dutifully filled her pockets with small envelopes, gloves, tweezers and a small brush that looked ratty. She slammed the file cabinet closed and followed Harrison out the building, stretching her legs to keep up with him.

****
As they walked, Claire mentioned an odd thing she noticed. "How come we have drug dealers so close to the precinct? You think it was because the boys club was part of the gang?"

Harrison shook his head. "Boys club. Everyone calls them the boys club. I've been meaning to ask why's that."

"They called themselves that. Maybe they thought themselves the new breed of boy scouts and probably other inside jokes they didn't share with anyone on the outside."

"Must have been difficult for some of you that just wanted to be good cops."

"It's something that happens in every police department around the world, Harrison. A uniform, authority figures, people that abuse it and some that get abused by it. And then there is the silence that is enforced within the membership. When you join, you learn what are the rules and if you don't like them…you can quit or die, because eventually something is going to happen and they'll need a patsy."

Harrison nodded and followed her into the sandwich shop that had other cops getting their orders. Everyone nodded politely but Claire suspected from the shakeup, no one wanted to speak with anyone that they were not already buddies with, and she had always been isolated.

"Hm. The warehouse…they had four busts there that I'm not comfortable with. They have all been done based on information by a snitch by the name of 'Booker.' I looked up Booker. He's got an arrest record longer than most snitches. He has been getting off by reporting on 'jail house confessions.' Some of them are outlandish, yet the judge has been letting the prosecutor use them. What if we have one of those Texas stinks where it turns out drugs were planted on these people?" Claire asked.

Harrison looked up at her, his grey blue eyes penetrating. However, she did not let her eyes waver.

"You suggesting the judge and prosecutor are part of this?"

"I think everyone should be considered a suspect that touched these cases and we eliminate them if there is no evidence to support otherwise."

"Okay," he smiled amiably. "You take the judge."

"Noo, problem."

After lunch, they walked to the furniture store, looking around them and putting what they saw in perceptive of the detectives' reports.

"Too bad we don't have a drug dog," Claire informed him, looking at the littered empty parking lot that two warehouse buildings shared.

He smiled and pulled his cell out and spoke into it for a short time, giving the address of the store. They waited for about thirty minutes, occupying themselves by poking around the area.

A SUV pulled up and a woman slid out, followed closely by a Heinz dog. His short tail was fully engaged as he sniffed at Harrison.

"Claire…my wife Ellen. Ellen - Claire, my partner."

Claire's face broke out into a smile. "Hi, Ellen. Nice buddy you have there. Is he registered?"

"Hi, Claire. Not wearing my hubby out are you? We just moved into the area so Blueblood has a few more nose tests with the locals to complete," Ellen explained. "He's registered with the FEDs though." She leaned down and pat the happy dog's head.

"Where did you move from?"

"Colorado. I got real lucky that this job opened. I've been away from the ocean for too long," Harrison filled in.

"So, where's the target?" Ellen asked.

"We're not sure."

She nodded and immediately got Blueblood into work mode. He stopped at a lot of places and each place the two marked with pieces of paper from their notebooks and weighed down with heavy trash.

"What dya think?" Claire asked as she clicked another picture at where they marked around the spot. She leaned down and pushed whatever was on the ground into a small envelope, sealed it and wrote on it.

"I think next time we bring our car and we stock it with markers and a camera. Ellen can you give us a lift back to the office?"

*****
When they returned twenty minutes later with more suitable equipment and their own camera, they found the entire place washed down, and not just with water. The smell of disinfectant came to their noses.

"Well, that takes care of the urine smell. So, maybe we got someone nervous. I'll do the questioning…you just…"

"Watch the master at work…" Claire nodded.

Harrison was very good. He started by introducing himself and Claire and then after getting the response that no one spoke English he merely stated that was okay, he would take each one of them down to the PD where they had a translator. This got one person to be pushed forward that would translate for them. It was a young woman, Maria, the one man that seemed to be the leader introduced her as. She was frightened.

Harrison asked when people showed up for work and when the store opened. This took a long time since they were all not comfortable with giving that information. When they got past that, Harrison asked about who worked the floor and who worked the back. His questions were not meant to be difficult but it was like pulling teeth with ones fingers.

"Hey, Harvard, let's bring them down to the office. I'm tired of these games."

By the looks on the men's faces, she knew they understood English well enough to know what she was saying. But the language that came out of one of the men must have been aimed at the woman because she started to cry and would have ran except, Claire grabbed her arm. She pulled out her cell with the other.

"Hey, Amie. Can you send the big wagon?...Yep. About seven…good." She slapped the cover closed and slid the phone in its holster.

"I should have said, my partner does not like bullshit. Don't! On the floor and face down." His voice went so deep that all the men froze that were about to scatter. Claire had her semi-automatic out and was pointing it to the ground, finger off the trigger, but she was ready, looking about her and keeping an eye on the woman and the men.

"I want to see a lawyer!" One of the men mumbled.

"It's whatever INS has to offer," Claire remarked.

Pandemonium broke out. The men rolled to their feet and regardless of what either detective yelled, disappeared between furniture and into nothingness. The only four they managed to keep, were the two that Harrison handcuffed, the woman Claire held onto, and one of the escaping men that Harrison cold-cocked. He landed unconscious sprawled out over the top of a couch.

"Wow!" Harrison shook his hand out. "It doesn't hurt as much when I wear gloves. Did anyone point out to you that it is against the law to yell fire in a crowded auditorium?"

"Yeah."

He glanced up at the four uniformed police officers coming in with guns drawn.

"Hey, check out the back will ya?" Harrison asked Cpl. Calagna.

He nodded and looked over to his partner, Officer Maenad. The two men moved into the back, guns drawn and in the classic cop defensive mode.

The other uniforms that entered the building Harrison gestured to. "We need these three taken and held for INS. We'll take, Maria with us."

Maria was weeping in the back of the cruiser. Harrison turned towards her and had to ask the same question three times.

"Maria, where do you live?" Harrison asked in Spanish.

"My, name is not Maria, it is Acela," she finally got out.

"Acela, we have to move you and your family," he continued in Spanish.

"I have a daughter…she is with the babysitter, on Aveneida. Where are you moving me?" she asked frightened.

"A safe house. Who do you owe?" Harrison asked.

"Cesar. He…" she started to cry again.

"Probably has heard by now that she and the others have been picked up," Harrison muttered to Claire in English. He picked up his cell phone and started making calls as they drove to a neighborhood that once had nice cottages with well cared for yards. Now the yards were as dry and dead as the lives of the people that filled every available space for rent that the landlord or original renter could collect. Children were playing in a small fenced in yard that had a faded playhouse and other toys a daycare center would have.

"Would it be bad for you if we got out of the car with you?" Harrison asked.

"Just me being in this car is enough to cause trouble for me and my little one."

"Claire, stay behind the wheel ready to roll…I'll go with her," Harrison spoke to Claire in case she did not speak Spanish, which she did not.
******

A two year old girl with short curly blond hair and hazel eyes sat in her dark haired mother's lap quietly as Claire followed Harrison's directions. They stopped at four stores, one for luggage, one for adult clothes and then baby and the last was for food to eat on the train. Harrison would not tell Claire where the two were going, just that both would be safe. Harrison handed Acela a steno pad, colored pencils and crayons he had purchased. Whatever he said to her she nodded and then mother and child disappeared onto the train that was headed to Arizona.

"Is she going to be alright?" Claire asked worried.

"They both will be. There is someone on the train that will be keeping an eye out for them until they get to where they'll be staying for a while."

"So…you work for someone other than…"

"Let's not go there…huh, detective," he suggested as he rolled his window down.

They drove back to their part of town and past neighbors that were gang invested.

"Slow down," Harrison directed her.

They were passing the same place Sammie was shot. There were a group of gang-types standing around, looking vigilant while carrying on conversations.

"I…I can't…" Claire was starting to hyperventilate and her hands gripped the steering wheel as she turned down a block before the corner and accelerated. However, the street was not a through street, but there was an alley that would take them past the corner. She found that, how she did not know, but she kept on driving until hands were pulling at her tightly wound ones over the steering wheel.

"We're fine. Let go. Come-on," Harrison's voice coaxed. "Come on. You don't know if he died so you can let go of whatever you're feeling about that."

Claire pulled over to the side of the road and turned angrily towards Harrison. "If I want to feel like shit about something you know nothing about then I will! You and everyone else can go fuck yourselves! I hate that man! I've wasted five years of my life in a shitty desk job trying to survive something I can't remember!" By then she was crying and Harrison just waited quietly.

"Sure was a lonely and hellish time," he agreed when her sobs quieted.

"What did you want with them?" she asked pointedly of the gang members.

"I wanted to tell them there is an ordinance out that they can't be gathering in groups larger than one," he smiled.

"Really?"

"It was passed two days ago."

"Well…" she thought. "I know they would be among the first to know it passed. Do you think they were just out there baiting us?" She turned the car around and headed back to the corner. Street patrols regularly passed the corner so she was not sure why the guys were hanging out in full view.

Harrison waved his hand. "We'll tackle your problem with that corner another day. Let's get back to base."

As the two were getting out of their car at the precinct Claire leaned back in when she remembered to bring the rifle that was locked in. Harrison was leaning back in at the same time when the first shot pinged where she would have been standing. The second shot was in the car if she stayed. Claire was running and zig-zagging through the cars, hearing Harrison muttering that he was too old for this shit.

Her cell was ringing so she pulled it out, hoping it was Harrison.

[Call it in and start moving…see that sign across the street?]

"That's nearly two miles away," she whispered back. But something dropped from the sign.

[Go!]

She hung up and hit her thumb on the autodialer to the desk. She knew by now the shots would have everyone inside the PD building hitting the ground.

[Desk!] an excited voice barked.

"We got a sniper out here! Took two shots at Harrison and me. We think he was on the girlie add sign. Something just dropped on the ground. Get us back up!"

[You got it!]

Claire climbed down the parking structure and then ran across a busy street as two black and whites screeched around the street further up. She gestured to them to go down one more block which by their sudden turn in the direction of the back side of the sign's yard she knew they got her message.

Harrison met her below the sign. Blood was everywhere but no body. They were joined by the chief and four lieutenants.

"Did any of you shoot this sniper?"

"Nope," Harrison answered. "Looks like they cut through the barbed wire. They probably cut themselves from the wire."

"Get someone to follow the trail," the chief gestured to the others. "Hudson, get up there and check it out."

"Hey, Hudson, watch your head!"

Great. I was just identified for whoever may be up there.

The ladder that was sitting on its side was righted so she could climb up. There was blood smeared all over it. For a few moments she had to fight the nauseous feeling it gave her. Automatically she pulled out her gloves, and her gun.

"Hudson, you're not alone," Harrison whispered up to her. "Our eyes on the roof spotted movement. They got a sniper rifle fixed on whatever is moving."

Aww shit! She did not know when she would be attacked but she knew it would happen.

"Come on down, Hudson!" the chief called.

Momentarily she rested her forehead on her hand and looked up grateful. A barrel was pointed right at her face. Automatically she launched herself from the ladder, and a loud bang was close to her. A lot of other bangs sounded and Claire knew there would be no witness now.

She could hear the chief's angry voice shouting at the officers to stop firing. She rolled onto her back and looked up at Harrison's worried face.

She smiled and then shook her head. He offered her a hand.

"We have more bodies than we can handle," he told her.

"Just as long as it's not yours or mine…right now that is all I can handle."

"Our three prisoners are dead…"

"What!"

"They got loose and made a run for it. One got hit by a bus, and the other two shot by the officers."

"We need to go back to the furniture warehouse."

He nodded.

The chief interrupted whatever else he was going to say. "I want the two of you to call it a day," he glanced at his watch pointedly. "You've caused enough overtime for the forensic team. Let the other team take it from here. I want you two back at seven tomorrow. We'll have INS and ATF and who knows who else that will want to speak to us about this fiasco so start working on those reports…and use spell check."

They both nodded and headed once again to their office. Harrison instructed her on how he wanted 'Maria' handled. Since she was introduced to them as Maria that was how they would keep it. They also would say she was in a safe-house for protection.

"You know, the FEDs are going to want her, whether she can help them or not."

"They won't get her. She stays where she is. Their averages on this drug case have been not good enough to give me a vote of confidence that they can protect her."

"Can you do that?"

"Well, this is where the politics between state and federal do clash. I guess we're going to see just how far they want to push it."

"Why would they want to threaten the life of an innocent?"

"Because they can."

"Geeze, this is so depressing."

"It would be if you think you're helpless. You do what you can do at your level and let those at other levels do what they can. It'll work out in the end," he told her brightly.

"Right," Claire responded sarcastically, "Good will triumph over evil."

"It all depends on how you look at the glass of water."

"Half full or half empty…what does that have to do with this mess?"

"How you approach this case is the type of answers you'll get."

"Oh, gawds," she muttered under her breath. "I got a philosopher for a partner." But her voice was sounding up and she was surprised to feel a smile on her face.

Chapter 11

Claire stayed at work until eight that evening. She filled out her reports and then went into the basement where cases were filed. Cases she filed. That was where Harrison found her when he wanted to let her know he was leaving.

"What are you muttering?" Harrison asked, careful to make noise when he entered the room so as not to startle her.

"The files are all messed up!" she reported pissed off.

"What's messed up?" he asked soothingly.

"I indexed and cross-referenced three names and they all point to this file of Eric's. I found it under another letter and the three other names are also missing."

"Are they related to our case?"

"Yeah. One of the men killed today…his name rang a bell…" she held up an index card neatly typed. "I went back to my old desk and noticed that all my index cards were gone. I found them in the trash…but not in the trash can…the trash bin across the street." She nodded at his perplexed look. "I knew my stuff was there this morning so it didn't take much figuring out that if someone wanted to get rid of them…"

"The cafeteria," he supplied. "So, maybe some of the boys club is still around."

"Yeah. They're a pretty entrenched group, but don't just focus on the males…there were a lot of female admirers in the civilian work force. Anyway, this one…Julio Ramirez. He was a street contact for three files…" she pointed to the desk that had a small stack of files on the desk. "I was under the impression that he was a naturalized American citizen. The report from today said he was an illegal and had no papers on him. So, how did anyone know he was Julio Ramirez?"

Harrison looked at the files and then at Claire.

"I can file them someplace no one will look until tomorrow," Claire told him.

Harrison looked around the room for cameras and found one, but only because it was covered. He pointed at the big white sheet of paper over the camera.

"I have issues with being spied on by unofficial surveillance cameras," she explained as she gathered up the files and stored them under lost and found and locked the cabinet. She handed him the key and showed him that she had the other.

"Do you know who belongs to it?"

"Nope. But, like the others I find, I leave a message in the chief's mail box and let him handle it."

"What happens then?"

"A general message is made at the shift-turn-over, the guys make their comments, yada-yada-yada. They don't do it in the women's restroom anymore…but, it doesn't hurt to keep checking."

"Gawds!" Harrison muttered as they left the building.

The two walked out into the parking lot together. Harrison watched as Claire checked her car out with a flash light and then got in. He borrowed Claire's flashlight and did the same to his vehicle.

"Yer gonna make me a real paranoid individual," he told her as he handed her the flashlight back.

"And your wife will love me for it because you'll live longer."

****
Claire parked two blocks away from her apartment and walked with all her senses in hyper mode. Elvis, the sleek short-haired black neighbor's cat that liked to spend his time outside mewing at whomever he could con a pat from, came running towards her.

"Hey Elvis. How are ya doing?" she cooed. Her own cats liked to go out only when she was home so that if they suddenly wanted in she was there to accommodate them.

Quietly she walked up the steps noting that the new neighbor downstairs had just turned off the light in the kitchen. It occurred to her that she should introduce herself to whoever it was, though the last time was disastrous. It turned out that they were two Pakistani men who were on a visa and worked for their uncle at the nearby liquor store. They mistook her friendliness to an invitation to 'she did not want to know what' and had them walking into her apartment when the door was left ajar for the cats. Not even a knock to announce themselves! She shook her head not wanting to revisit the harassment she suffered from them, knowing that all the other women around the block had been through it also. She was relieved when they moved. When they left abruptly the rental company was aghast at the filth and cockroaches left behind. It meant the four-plex needed to be fumigated. Claire shook her head again. She needed to let go of things like this. Why did she have to keep ruminating over unhappy things that are in the past?

"Hey, guys," she told the two cats that were at the door when she swung it opened. They wanted to be fed. The routine for late nights was she fed them and then let them wander around outside for a few hours while she unwound. And so it went.

It seemed she had just closed her eyes when her pager was going off. She tried to shake her head from the remnants of a strange dream of Charlotte and register what was waking her. At first she thought it was the alarm except she was on the couch still dressed and her pager attached to her belt was beeping.

Groggily she made it to her phone.

"This is…" she smiled, "Detective Hudson. I have a call?"

[You're on call this week, Claire,] the apologetic voice of Leisa explained, [we have a fire and bodies. The chief wanted two detectives on the scene.]

"No problem, I haven't gotten to the good part of sleep yet," she answered now waking up.

[What part is that?] Leisa asked curious.

"Dreaming," she answered promptly.

[I hear ya,] Leisa replied enthusiastically.

"Where do I go?"

[Largo and Kenebec.]

"Got it. Did you reach my partner?"

[Got his wife. Said she'll roll him out in his PJs.] She giggled.

"Okay, bye." She hung up and pursed her lips, thinking about the call. She needed a shower and fresh clothes. Feeling a lot better cleaned up, she was tucking her badge over her waist band when her cell went off.

"Yeah?"

[You up?]

"Yeah. Where are you?"

[Right below your apartment.]

"Be right down…and we got ta stop for coffee," she whinned. Closing her cell she grabbed a leather coat and tried to close the front door without slamming it.

Below the familiar SUV waited. Claire peeked in the front seat and the back. Ellen was in the back with Blueblood. She pulled opened the door excited.

"What's going on?" She climbed up into the cab and quickly secured her seat belt. A cup of coffee and a bag was handed to her.

"Coffee and sugar fix. You're gonna need all the strength you can get," Harrison informed her.

"Hi, Ellen. Are you and Blueblood gonna make sure the SUV doesn't get stolen?"

She laughed heartily. "That kind of neighborhood, huh? No. Big Blue and I are here officially this time. We have a drug bust where the drugs disappeared according to my handler."

"All I got was a wake up call and where to be," she grumbled. Chewing on the plain cake donut, followed by a sip of coffee moved her mood to more sociable, liking the Harvard's for their taking care of the small things.

"Hm." Harrison pulled out his cell phone that was buzzing. "Yeah?…what's the address?...No that's okay. She's with me." He folded up his phone. "We're all being sent to a secondary address…remember the house we picked Maria's kid up at?"

"Ah, yeah. Multiple family dwellings, not just Hispanic but I would guess a lot of illegals."

Where Harrison parked was in the middle of the street…it was the only place. The house was lit up with lights from squad cars and from a helicopter that was circling above. Blueblood's nose was sniffing the air and his short tail was wagging enthusiastically.

"He loves the action," Ellen explained.

Harrison assigned two uniforms to accompany and protect Ellen and her hound. He and Claire headed to the babysitter's backyard where uniformed officers were questioning some locals.

It was dawn when they had found fifty thousand dollars bundled in twenties and what looked like a million dollar stash of cocaine buried under the plastic play house.


Chapter 12

"Harrison, did you read this?"

He glanced up from his report. "Was it in that pile?"

"No. It was in my inbox. It's on the fire at the furniture warehouse."

"Give me a synopsis," he told her taking a sip from his water bottle.

"A homeless person was parked in his camper in the back. His propane tank blew."

"Interesting. We've identified the place as a place for drug dealing and this guy parks to spend the night. If he wasn't involved in the sale of drugs he would have been run off…so, did the officers get an ID on this homeless?

"Yeah." She studied the report, looking for why this report did not sit right with her. "Madison and Hynes were the officers that took the report. They gave the name Jesus Rodriguez." What is with the name that seems familiar?

"How's our other half doing?" he asked.

She glanced at the note left on her desk. "They went out to speak with Juan Ramirez." She pulled another file from her stack in her inbox. She was on the last page of notes when she began to see double. She rubbed her eyes and tiredly kept them closed. While closed she tried to think how the name she was stumbling over looked a lot like some of the other names only…

"Shit!" Quickly she wrote all the names she could think of that were involved with drugs.

Harrison got up and stood over her as she wrote. She underlined each name on the first letter of their name and the last two letters of their surname. They were the same.

"Well…" He sat on the edge of her desk. "What does that tell us?"

"A coincidence? I mean…there are a lot of Mexican surnames that don't end in 'ez' but is it a coincidence that there are so many that have their first names beginning with the letter J too?" Claire tapped the report. "And another thing…all of these characters have been turned over to INS and none of them saw jail time except in the detention before their transportation back over the border."

"So, someone in INS is part of this? It would mean that the arresting officers may not be involved since they put the names down, or they are part of it and…" He sighed and went back to his desk. "Gawds, Hudson! This is a big freakin' mess."

"For it to have gone on as long as it has…" she became silent as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She turned to face the door which her back was to. She hated this desk.

Officer Jackson was at the door. "Hey, Hudson. The chief asked if you can move your things out of the locker. Since you're not wearing a uniform anymore he wants to make it available to one of the rookies."

Claire nodded. "Right." She got to her feet and headed to the locker room. She lifted the lock and let it rest in the palm of her hand, thinking of the years she had been hating to have to change into a uniform. Spinning the lock she thought she heard a click from inside of her locker. Throwing herself down on the floor an explosion blew over her.


Chapter 13

Claire blinked a few times and felt a straw pressed to her lips. Thirstily she sucked on the straw.

"Hey, there girl." A warm hand gripped hers and squeezed.

"Sandy?"

"Yep."

"I feel like shit…but, I've been a lot worse off," she mumbled.

"Yep. That you have."

"How many days?"

"Four. You really got clocked this time. You're going to have to take a week off to make sure you aren't seeing double."

"I hope they got the other guy."

"Nope."

"What's the word out on the street?"

"There's a contract out on you. Once you get out of here," she leaned down close to her ear, "we're taking you up to the camp grounds so you can recoup in safety."

"Hmm," was all she could get out before she fell back to sleep.

****
When Claire's eyes opened, this time she was wide awake and worried for her cats. She had just gotten back from a two week vacation and already she was not home much.

"Hi. Want to try and get up?"

She turned her head. "Hey, Gil. Gawds. Did I bring you down from your mountain retreat?"

"Hell, girl. You're giving us some fodder for our book. We gotta get ya outta here. Yer presence is stressing the hospital staff worse than a SARs patient."

"Hm. Can I take a shower first and put something on that doesn't air my privates out?"

"Clothes are right there. Need help?"

"No."

"I'll wait outside the door. Holler if ya need help," he warned.

"I can wash and dress myself," she replied firmly.

"Yeah, but I bet if it were a female offering you'd be quick in taking up the offer," he replied as he shut the door behind him.

"Damn right," she muttered as she slid off the edge of the bed and held on while her legs stiffened up to hold her weight. Gil's presence and rushing her spoke volumes of her peril in staying at the hospital.

****
The ride to El Dorado camp grounds was quiet…not even the radio played in the background. Claire slept. She woke up with a sudden concern of where was she planning on sleeping?

"Where am I going to be shacking up?"

"We got ya one of them tents," he told her.

"You have got to be kidding. You are…right?" After being in the Roadtrek with heat warming her when it was cool the idea of sleeping in a cold tent was not as welcoming as it had been. This was winter, late November, and it rained.

"Yeah." He laughed, chuckled and then started laughing again.

"Just don't laugh us into an accident," Claire warned him. "So?"

"You're gonna be staying in that shack…"

"What shack?" Oh, please don't say that shack that is ready to come at the first storm and has all sorts of bugs and spiders living in it.

"We fixed up the shack near the restrooms."

"It's got a full house! Bugs, snakes, spiders and other things I don't want to get to know," she objected.

"Looks can be deceiving…and for your benefit…it does look like shit. There's one of those bomb shelters beneath it. You'll be safe and comfy."

"Will I get a nice clean bed?"

"Yep."

"With sheets, pillow case, and clean fluffy pillows…"

"Gawds, girl but you are picky," he mocked.

"Just what am I going to do besides staring at spider webs and looking for their friends?"

"We got some books…and ya need rest, Hudson. Let the real cops do the work. In this operation, you're the bait, girl. All ya gotta do is just be there and we'll do the rest."

"Do I get to wear camouflage and dyke boots?" she asked.

"Do you wanta catch them or not?"

"I want to pull Sammie's balls off," she flexed her left hand for Gil to see.

"Ouch. Just talking about it hurts," he replied.

"What makes you think they're going to track me here when a bunch of retired cops are going to be waiting to take pot shots at them?"

"You have something they need."

Claire looked at him as if he were nuts. "Gil, they've been trying to kill me…"

"That's just recently. The FEEBs say that there are two cousins in Mexico, one wants information you have and the other doesn't want anyone to have it."

"Just what information is that?"

"I don't know for sure. In your report you never mentioned the names of the two cops that came to your assistance when your partner was shot…do you remember their faces?"

"No. I…don't even remember if I wrote a report. Damn, I don't want to even think about that shooting." A sinking feeling hit her in the pit of her stomach, and it was the same feeling she got when she realized she left a 'must pay' bill on the kitchen table. "Oh."

"Oh…oh, what? Girl, any partner you get is going to be a frustrated man!"

"There were two uniformed guys I didn't recognize at Julio's Tacos and Burritos stand. I asked Sammie what city they were from and he told me in a round about way to mind my own business."

"And were they the ones at the scene?"

"I don't know. I don't remember anything that happened…after the taco stand."

"Too much stinks about Sammie's case. You heard they think he's still alive, huh?"

"Yeah. I heard. They identified his finger prints with someone that is wearing a different face." She shook her head, "There is nothing about this case…then and now, that I believe."

Claire suddenly released her seat belt and slid down to the floor, ignoring her protesting body. "Go! Go!"

Gil did as he was told, catching a glimpse of someone fixing a tire on the road not far from the entrance to the camp ground. He passed the entrance and kept going around the bend.

"Girl, you're not getting paranoid now, are ya?" But his voice belied his skepticism.

"Stop, right here," she told him from her cramped position. In her mind she pictured the curve and the open space along the beach from the movement of the vehicle.

When the car stopped she waited for Gil's all clear signal.

"Go, I don't see anyone. Where ya gonna be?"

"I'll let ya know."

"Wait! Take this." He quickly pulled his wallet out and stuffed what cash he had into her hand. "Later," he waved her out.

She ran across the two way road trusting that in the dark she would be able to tell when a car approached. For self preservation she needed to be less predictable, whether she was bait or not. Right now she did not trust anyone so she considered herself on her own.

The road was rough and uneven and the pounding waves in the near distance divided her attention. Suddenly she stopped. This is predictable. I'm heading for the beach to hang around the camp. If I get knocked off I'll be another lone woman camping, killed by an unknown assailant.
*****
It was early the next morning when Claire was dropped off near her apartment. Her ride was with two women, sisters, who were on their way to a friend's wedding in a nearby city. Claire felt extremely lucky, and used that as confirmation that her decision to return to her apartment was right.

As tired as she was, she managed to notice odd things before she got to her block. There were more people at the all night store on the corner, buying coffee. Standing in the dark, she wondered what she was going to do now.

"So, what's your next move?" Charlotte's voice asked.

"Jeeze!" Claire turned around her heart pumping and her stomach doing some funny things she was not familiar with. Charlotte's shadowed figure, looking different in a cap pulled down over her face, leather coat zipped up, and jeans with western boots.

"Coffee?" Charlotte offered her a cup.

Claire shook her head. She was wired between the pills she was given to take and lack of sleep.

"What are you doing here?" Claire asked worriedly. The woman never seems to dress like I expect her to.

"I was nearby and heard you were injured. I stopped by at the hospital and they said you signed yourself out. I thought I would stick around since by the radio dispatches you were reported missing."

"Yeah. Gil said it was better if I get out of there." She frowned at the police car that pulled up at the store. The milling customers gathered around the car.

"What's that all about?" she asked suspiciously as if Charlotte would know.

"I don't know. I was kinda curious myself. When I went to your place a lot of people were interested."

"How did you get my address?"

"Your driver's license," she admitted. "I have a car and a hotel. Want a place to crash?"

"If you don't mind. I feel like shit."

****
Movement beside her had one green eye opening reluctantly and then the other. Claire knew exactly where she was. She rolled over to see a dressed Charlotte walking into the bathroom. She closed her eyes for a moment.

"Good morning!" she heard.

"Morning? Is it the same morning I went to bed?"

"Yeah. I'm going to go out and get you something to eat. Do you have any preference?"

"No sugar and no coffee. My stomach doesn't feel too good."

"Okay. I'll be back…will you still be here?"

"Unless someone's chasing me…but I don't think anyone knows I'm here," she told her honestly. "Since I don't feel that well, I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

"Okay. The only person I expect is the cleaning woman. I don't want to put out a sign just incase someone is watching this place…"

"What'll she do if she finds a woman sleeping in your bed?"

"Probably the same thing if she finds a man…turns around and leaves." The door closed behind her.

Claire pulled the covers back over her and curled up into a ball feeling like she was coming down with the flu.

It only seemed like she closed her eyes when she was being shaken awake. Her head hurt and her body was achy. She felt worse.

"You don't look too good, but we've got to get out of here. I want you to get out of those clothes…underwear too. Change into these."

Claire groaned and with help moved her arms out of her shirt and into another.

"I need to take my pills…maybe I'll feel better," Claire muttered.

"Who gave you these?" Charlotte was rolling the bottle between her fingers reading the contents and who proscribed them.

"They were waiting for me at the nurse's station when I signed out."

"Never heard of that happening," Charlotte told her worried. "Usually they have you going to the pharmacy."

The two stumbled down the inside hall and into the next section of rooms so that they were on the other side of the large hotel. Her cousin, Bo was waiting with engine running.

He jumped out and quickly grabbed the sagging Claire. He laid her on the seat in the back and hopped into the passenger seat as his cousin was already pulling out.

"Cuz, this place is getting crowded with suits. Something is coming down. And she looks like shit. You give her something?"

"No. I think someone screwed with her pills. Do we know a doc around here?"

"Does she have anything to do with our contract?" he asked.

"Yeah. She's the reason he's in town."

"Shit! Cuz, how come we keep getting the dangerous ones? What happened to the surveillance ones Ken and Jackson gets, or just watching out for over zealous fans?"

"Because…"

"Hell, partner, good thing I like this job."

"Good thing," she agreed with him. "Now, about the doctor. We can't drive all over town with a sick friend."

His eyebrows lifted as he pulled out his cell phone. "Friend. That's right…she picked you up after you let Pritchett get one over on you," he laughed heartily. "Hey, Connie…yeah?...Nope, we're heading towards Hollywood…sure. The reason I'm calling, do we know a doctor we can drop in on?...No, not that guy. He gives our boss the creeps…" he laughed and gave a wink at Charlotte who scowled. Her eyes went to the rearview mirror and then back to the front. "Okay…thanks…No, she's gonna need blood tests to see if she's been poisoned….Yeah, that kind….thanks. I'll see ya later," he gave a kissing sound and hung up.

"When are you two gonna tie the knot?" Charlotte asked as she glanced at the traffic she was pulling into.

"The only thing that got tied were her tubes. She's got this thing about over-population. Besides, did you know that this government taxes married couples? How sick is that? They should tax people on the number of kids they have…that should cut down on over population. Doc Williams."

"Sounds like she's got you on her election platform. Okay. I'm gonna pull in over there and get in the back with her. She's not looking too good."

*****
Claire drifted in and out. She heard parts of Charlotte and her partner's conversation but had no interest in it. Her headache was making her stomach that was empty want to heave its lining. If someone put her out of her misery right now, she would be very grateful, and promise not to haunt them.

Claire could hear someone practicing the piano from far away. She moved her legs and turned over. Cracking open an eye, and then the other, she found herself in a large four poster bed. A window was opened, letting in a breeze that smelled of rain, fluttering the curtains. There was a tree outside the window. Not close enough to use to get into the room but it gave her an idea that she was on the second floor of someone's residence.

The faint sound of a phone ringing stopped the piano practice. Claire decided to see if she could get up and find out where she was.

Her first visit was to a toilet. By testing doors she found what she was looking for. She used the door jam to balance and nearly screamed when a strange looking womanish man was standing in the doorway.

"Well…it looks like you're up," he told her tartly. He had one hand on his hip and the other to his throat. He studied her critically. "I'll let Charlotte know. Clothes are in the closet." He pointed with a long painted nail to one of the doors she had checked behind before finding the bathroom. "They'll fit you fair enough." With that the man left, closing the door firmly behind him. His clothing was color coordinated down to the shoes. If she were type-casting, she would peg him as a queen. Claire had a distinct feeling he did not like her.

The clothes in the closet were not to her taste. A soft knock had her turning around. "Come-in," she invited.

Charlotte peeked in and seeing her still wearing her T-shirt stepped in. "I don't think there is anything that will suit you in there. It's Connie's spare clothing. A bit too fem, don't you think?"

"Yeah…that was Connie that…?"

Charlotte laughed. "No, that's Connie's brother. He helps out between his other jobs. Connie is our secretary, office manager, and baby sitter."

Claire wanted to ask about the baby sitting but instead changed the subject. "So…the last I remember, you and your cousin were taking me to a doctor you knew…"

"Doc Stan Williams. Come-on. While I fill you in…I'll show you to Bo's closet. He doesn't throw away anything and once he was about your size."

"I heard that!" a voice hollered up the stairs. "Tell the damn truth! I don't want anyone thinking any of them pink or yellow shirts were mine!"

"They were mine," she laughed.

"Why do you keep them?"

"Because…"

The clothes were a little larger than her size but they weren't frilly and they were comfortable.

"You lost weight, huh?"

"Yeah. If you're hungry…Cookie prepared tuna sandwiches. Just follow the stairs down and to the left. Holler if you get lost."

"Charlotte?"

"Huh?"

"Where am I?"

"Somewhere safe. I'll show you around when you change. You probably want to bathe too…"

"Yeah," Claire laughed catching a whiff of herself.

"I bought you some new underwear…I don't share," she smiled. "In the bureau…and Claire…don't use the phone yet, okay?"

"Alright."

****
An hour later, Claire slowly descended the stairs studying both sides of the staircase. There was another floor above the one she was on. The foyer was like a waiting room with comfortable chairs and a couch between interesting statues that reminded her of Thailand's mythical creatures.

She followed the voices past a dinning table that was littered with maps, photos and…

"Hi. You're looking a whole lot better. My names Ned Blake…except to friends it's Bo." He grinned, "And since I carried you on up those stairs, you can call me Bo. I didn't get a chance to thank you for picking Charlotte up on the stretch of road."

She shook hands with the tall dark haired man. He had the same eyes as Charlotte. His grip was firm and from the muscular outline beneath his T-shirt, he lifted weights.

"Sure," she got out hesitantly. "Claire Hudson."

"Come-on in the kitchen. Nellie is going to show us how to make tuna melts the way his momma made them."

Nellie was the man who she had met earlier…or sort of did. He was camping it up for a small group of people. Charlotte was not around.

"Everyone…this is Claire…Claire, that's Nellie over there…and she's proud of it…is Janey when she's dressed and Mack…"

That earned Ned a glare and a grape tossed at him that he was not able to avoid. It hit him right between the eyes. Everyone was in good humor.

"Hi, Claire, I'm Connie." A beautiful woman reached over to shake her hand. Her body was sculpted like Bo's. He leaned over and gave her a kiss, which she returned. She turned to the other two men. "That's Kenny with the blond hair, and Jackson Brown with the shaved head. He's a part-time actor so every now and then, stare at him so he thinks he's something special.

"Geish! When are you gonna drop that?" he shook his head embarrassed.

"He was supposed to be body guarding a celeb. A couple of preadolescent girls blinked at him and asked him for his autograph, and he fell for it hook, line and sinker. So while glittery-starry eyed boy is being distracted, one of them slips by him and gets to his assignment…with spray paint." Nellie explained while cutting small cheese wedges with pickles on a cutting board, and pausing to wave his knife at Jackson.

"She's hot about it because Jackson's supposed to be on a leash," Bo explained with a grin. "As in, a committed relationship."

"Well, if my man was here, he would defend my honor," Nellie mimicked Jackson's deeper voice.

Breakfast was filling and busy with quips - trite as well as witty. By the time the dishes were cleaned and everyone broke off to go to wherever they spent their day, Charlotte was back, dressed in a silk suit with heels and jewelry to match. Janey stopped long enough to give her a close perusal.

"Not bitch enough, but if you have to run you have to dress with the right shoes," she hummed.

"Where are we going?" Claire quickly asked, hoping the flush she felt at seeing Charlotte dressed up was not too obvious.

"The library and then the court house. Research first and then we'll know what to ask for," she clarified.

Research in a library was not a skill she practiced in her detective work, but she realized it would be worthwhile to practice.

****
"I can't remember this," Claire hissed at the absorbed Charlotte that was printing the account of the death of a local cop by a drug dealer.

The corner she avoided driving by was in black and white, marked by dark stains on the sidewalk. The lines underneath the photo reported it was the murdered detective's blood.

"Shot in the chest? I thought they said it was a head shot? What…it says I was unconscious in the car! What is this bullshit?"

"Maybe that was why they didn't want you to read the account…hmm. The cops that saved your life are Malone and Gavotte. Ever heard of them?"

"No. Saved my life," she muttered. She turned back to her computer and went over the City Herald to see what they had to say. Nothing on the front page. The article of a police officer shot was in the obituaries. It did not say why he died. She went through a few days later where she saw a bigger space devoted to the investigation of the shooting but focused on why she did not come to her partner's rescue. She looked for the reporter and found there was no by-line. It was just filler for column space.

"Did you find anything?" Charlotte asked logging off her PC. She reached for the sheets in the printer and paused.

Claire logged off and rose from her chair, thinking Charlotte was ready to go. Instead Charlotte pulled on Claire's arm and dragged her around a stack of books and then around another. Charlotte gestured for Claire to remain where she was while she moved to another part of the bookcases that had a view of the computers they were just at.

Claire did not recognize the face, but the way he moved was familiar. He looked around the room and then sat at the PC she had been sitting at. It was times like these that she wished she had a spy scope. However, Charlotte had one. They watched the figure as he used the PC and then wrote something down and closed the browser and moved off to another part of the library.

Charlotte gestured for her to exit the library. Claire did as she was told, not knowing what she was planning. Charlotte met her outside and quickly was walking the long way around to the parking lot.

"Were we followed?" Claire asked worried.

"No. But it makes sense that he would want to refresh his memory," she said knowingly.

"Who?"

"Your ex-partner…the one that was supposed to have been shot."

Claire stopped in her tracks, suddenly putting what was familiar about the figure into place. Features were different but…who told her that he had his face changed?

She ran to catch up with Charlotte who was running across the street to make the light.

"So, why are we going to the court house?"

"Public records…to see who owns the property that the drugs you and your partner found the other day."

"How do you know so much about this case? I mean, don't get me wrong…gawds that did come out sounding ungrateful…"

"I'm a bounty hunter and I have a contract out on a Stewart and Samuel James."

Charlotte looked both ways and ran across the street and then up the stairs in her heels as if she were comfortable in them. Claire raced beside her.

"They were twins," Charlotte continued as she pulled open the door to the court of records. "His mother divorced Mr. James and remarried a Kowalski and then later a Millard and then Rodriguez. However, the twins changed their names more times than their mother. Stewart James graduated from the police academy as Samuel Thompson but Samuel's fingerprints were used to get him into the academy. Stewart's prints were registered as an ex-con. His death was an execution by a pissed off partner."

"I don't get it. Why all that trouble to be a cop…or detective?" Claire asked in an undertone as they moved into a line.

"What better job to keep an eye on illegal drug movements and gangs that are your competition?"

Concluded in Part 3