A Voice from the Field (27 page)

When she got out of the car, Alex was saying, “No. That's no good, Dad. It's too close. Impatiens like to spread.”

Tia heard Lars's mumbled response but couldn't make out the words. Alex shook her head and replied, “Well, I don't want them to mound. I want them to spread. So if you want a mound of impatiens you can—”

Tia shut the car door and Alex looked up, giving Tia the full effect of her warm smile.

“Well, hey, Tia. Long time no see. How are you?”

“Hey, Alex. I'm great.” Tia turned to her old boss. It had been over a year since his stroke, and recovery had been difficult. “Hey, Chief. How are you, sir?”

Lars beamed and he gave a vigorous thumbs-up. Alex stood and walked toward Tia. The two women embraced.

“Him?” Alex looked back at her father, hands on her hips. “He's bossy as ever and now he's an expert in gardening. I'm starting to think I liked it better when he couldn't talk.”

Lars reached out with his cane and poked his daughter in the butt.

“Dad!”

Lars grinned and spoke to Alex lovingly. Again Tia couldn't make out the words, but clearly Alex did. She kissed him on the top of his head. “Oh, you know I'm joking. I love having you tell me how to plant, cook, and clean. Who wouldn't, right, Tia?”

“No way.” Tia raised her hands. “I'm staying a hundred miles away from this one. But you do look great, sir.”

As if to show off, Lars began to stand, raising a hand in protest when Alex moved to help. It took some time and effort, but he made it to his feet. The frail old man Tia had seen last spring had been replaced with a new figure. He was by no means the “Redheaded Norseman” who had once walked the halls of Newberg PD with the four stars on his collar, but his chest had filled out and his ruddy Nordic coloring had returned. Leaning heavily on his cane, he pumped one fist in victory.

“Nice job, Chief.” Tia nodded in approval.

Alex smiled at her dad, hurrying over to help him back into his chair. When she turned back to Tia, the younger woman could see the concern on her friend's face. “How are you, really? I've missed seeing you at the coffeehouse. Are you just dropping by or can you stay for a while?”

“Sorry, Alex, it's business. I need to see the chief. I went by the office, but Caroline said he wouldn't be in until later. It's kind of important. Is he home?”

Tia and Alex turned at the sound of the screen door. Ben and the Sawyers' son, Jake, stepped out onto the porch. Both waved, but it was the boy who seemed most excited.

“Hey, Tia,” Jake called out. Tia thought he'd grown a foot in height since she had last seen him. Jake used one hand to vault over the porch railing and dropped three feet to land lightly on the grass like a jungle cat, not a teenage boy. He jogged over and gave Tia a hug.

“Jake, you're like six feet tall.” Tia looked up at the teenager who towered over her. “What are you? Eighteen now?”

Jake blushed. All the adults knew the boy had a monster of a crush on her.

“I'm almost fourteen,” he said. “I'm only five eight, but I'll be six foot before I finish high school.”

“Keep an eye on this one, Alex. He's going to be breaking hearts pretty soon.”

“He already is,” Alex answered. “Mine. He's growing up too fast.”

As if on cue, a coo came from the nearby bassinet, which was sitting on a blanket in the shade of the massive maple tree that dominated the front yard. Alex swooped in fast.

“Oh, I know, Izzy. I've got you to dote on now, don't I?”

Tia looked at Ben, still standing on the porch. Arms folded across his chest, he leaned against a support post, his face practically glowing with satisfaction and affection. Family was everything to Ben, and Tia knew it.

“Hey, boss,” she said. “How are you?”

Ben came down off the porch and walked over. They shook hands.

“Good, Tia. I was going to head to the office in a few minutes. What's going on? Is Kane in custody?”

“That's what I wanted to talk with you about, Chief. I need to catch you up on a few things.”

“Tia, stay for lunch,” Alex said, now cradling the baby in her arms.

Tia thought it sounded more like an order than an invitation but knew she couldn't accept. “I wish I could, Alex. But I've got some stuff to do.” Picking up on Jake's look of disappointment, Tia added, “Soon, though. I'd really like that.”

Ben led her around the back of the house so they could have more privacy.

“Is it too much to hope you came by to tell me we bagged Kane? Victim recovered, mission accomplished?”

Tia laughed sarcastically. “We're a long way from that. Stahl and his team want to postpone the arrest. Something about Kane wanting to step up his game. They went into the whole national security bullshit again.” She took a deep breath. “I walked out. Sorry, Chief. I can't handle these guys. I just don't get where they're coming from.”

Ben stared straight ahead and nodded in a way that told Tia he was holding something back.

“Don't tell me Graham called again?” she said. “What did she say about me this time?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

“Then what, Ben? Tell me what's going on.”

They reached the back patio and took seats around the fire pit, which was still full of hickory ash from the spring. “I paid a visit to Sheriff Solo.”

“Really?” Tia said, her voice disdainful. “And how is old blood and gutless?”

“Pretty bloodied up and feeling pretty gutless,” Ben said. “He's handed over all jurisdiction to Stahl's team. He said he's gotten some very clear direction from the state capital, basically orders to stay out of Stahl's way. He made it pretty clear to me that he wants nothing to do with Gunther Kane.”

“I don't get that, Chief. The guy ran for office on an anti-fed campaign. Every chance he gets to slam the federal government, he calls a press conference.”

“True, but you said it yourself.
He runs for office.
In the end, let's face it: he's a politician. He's got to stay in the club or, come the next election, he'll find out all his money has dried up.

“Fact is, Tia, I got a couple of calls myself. The mayor and also a guy pretty far up the food chain of Wisconsin DOJ.”

“And?”

“We've been urged to cooperate with Stahl. Let him run his operation.”

“What the—” Tia stopped, took a breath, then said, “I don't get it, Ben. Where does this guy get his juice?”

“I got hold of an old friend,” Ben said. “We were beat partners in Oakland fifteen years ago. Sharp guy, went to school at night, finished up his degree, and hired on with ATF. He's an ASAC now out of Los Angeles. I gave him a call. Filled him in. He called me back in less than an hour.”

“Yeah? What did he tell you?”

“To take a lesson from the sheriff. My old buddy made it clear we ought to stay a hundred miles away from Stahl and anything he touches. Told me if I had any cops working with Stahl, pull them the hell out.”

“Did you tell him that they're sitting on a human-trafficking case?”

“I did. To be honest, I don't think he wanted to talk about it over the phone. He's a good friend and I think that's the only reason he even called me back. I'm telling you, Tia, he sounded like he was trying to warn me.”

“About what?”

“Like you said. Stahl's got some serious juice. We know that he falls under the Director of National Intelligence, and I'd be willing to bet he's not part of any of the major agencies. He's not CIA, NSA, or anything like that. All that is too old-school and traditional for him.”

Tia thought back on her conversation with Delafield. “You're right there. They call themselves DTAT. Domestic Terrorist Assault Team. I don't know, but based on what I saw, my guess is they pretty much freelance it. Looks like they've got a nice budget for toys. They're living out of a SCIF in Milwaukee.”

“A SCIF?” Ben asked.

“Stands for ‘Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility.' The whole concept was just coming online when I discharged. Basically it's a bunker. An ultra-safe room. Built to be bug proof. Supersecure phone and computer lines. Hell of a way to spend a few billion in taxpayer money. Course nowadays, all the spook agencies compete with each other. Who can have the most whizbang, bitchin' SCIF.” Tia shook her head. “Bunch of boys making up for some other inadequacy, if you ask me.”

“Well, I don't know about that,” Ben said, “but Stahl definitely has that post-9/11 feel to him. You must have dealt with a lot of guys like him.”

Ben was referring to Tia's days in the Marines, when she was part of a black-bag operation out of Afghanistan. The Marine squad she served on had a CIA contingent and she became more than a little familiar with the ugly underbelly of intelligence collection. But that was then and ten thousand miles away in a foreign hostile country.
This is Wisconsin for Christ sake.

“Yeah. Too many. And I don't care about any of that anymore. All I know is that we, local law enforcement, have information about a kidnapping victim. Milwaukee PD doesn't care and somebody seems to have cut the balls off our county sheriff and put them in a jar on the shelf. That leaves us, Chief.”

“What are you suggesting, Tia?”

“You know damn well what I'm suggesting. That we do something. We're cops, Ben. We've got all the authority we need to follow up on this case. The hell with Stahl.”

“Why this case, Tia? Why are you willing to risk everything for this one case? We've had to walk away before.”

Tia paused, then answered, her voice low, “It's personal, Ben. I can't let it go.”

“Tia. You're the one making it personal.”

She started to speak, but he raised a hand and kept talking. “I know what you're going to say, and you're right. I'm not one to talk about not getting involved, but Tia, that was my wife. The mother of my son. Don't you think this is just a little bit different?”

A long moment passed between the two of them. Tia thought back to her conversation with Connor—a conversation she already regretted. Connie had every right to feel angry and left out. She didn't want to do the same thing again here. She looked at Ben and saw, not the chief of police, but a friend. Someone who cared about her. Someone she knew she could trust. She started in.

“When I was shot down in Danville, I was pretty sure that was it. I could feel that I was checking out. It wasn't a big deal, I just knew it was the end, and I was like, ‘Okay, let's get on with it.' I just figured it was time to see what comes next.

“And then a girl came to me. A little girl. She spoke to me.”

Ben didn't move and his gaze never left her, so Tia went on. “She told me, in Spanish, that it wasn't my time yet. She told me that I needed to come with her.”

“Did you go?” Ben asked. He looked serious but Tia thought she heard some doubt in his voice.

“Yeah, I did. We walked away together, left the café. The whole time, I kept asking her who she was, where we were, all the stuff you'd probably ask a ghost given the chance, right? Maybe she told me, maybe not. I don't know. It's not like it's that clear. But it happened.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “I've heard about that sort of thing. People who, you know, almost die. They have dreams … images that really stick with them.”

Tia shook her head and spoke patiently. “It wasn't a dream, Ben.
It happened.
I left this”—Tia motioned to her body—“and went somewhere else.”

Tia could see him thinking over what she was saying. “Go on,” he said.

“That was the end of it, or so I thought. I talked to Gage about it.” Tia couldn't help but roll her eyes. “That was a mistake. He told me it happens to people all the time in situations like that. He called it an NDE. A near-death experience. He just blew it off.”

“Kind of like I just tried to do?” Ben said quietly.

“Yeah. Kind of like that. Only he writes everything down.

“That's when he told me I needed more time off.” She shrugged. “Okay with me, I thought. I headed down to Mexico, spent time with Mom and Dad. Everything was pretty normal for a while.”

A few seconds went by while Tia remembered her time in Mexico.

Ben encouraged her to keep going, saying, “Then you came home.”

“Yep.” Tia regrouped and shifted in her seat. “I thought a lot about it, but the more time that went by, the more I figured maybe Gage was right. It was just about blood loss and shock.”

“You don't think that now?”

She shook her head. “The thing in the courtroom, Ben? The whole ‘What the hell got into Suarez?' thing? She came back to me that day, right then.”

“The girl from the café?” The doubt in his voice was thick enough to cut with a knife. “She came back?”

“Yeah. While I was testifying. She took me out of the courtroom to where the molestation victim was … where the son of a bitch…”

Tia wasn't sure she could say what came next, but Ben waited, his gaze warm and open, and at last she was able to go on.

“I was in the room. I was watching what he did to her. Then, it was like somebody flipped a switch and I was back in the courtroom.” Her voice went low. “That scared the hell out of me. Let me tell you, it was the oddest experience of my life and it scared the living hell out of me.”

Ben looked away and Tia wondered about the position she was putting him in.
He's the chief,
she reminded herself.
There are things he doesn't want to know.
But he was also her friend. She plowed ahead. “After that I didn't even know what to think. You sent me back to the shrink and I get that; I know you had to do it. But I talked way too much with that jerk-off, Gage. Next thing I know I'm on meds, labeled damaged goods.”