Flutter (9 page)

Sydney had been up cleaning his gun and watching sports highlights on ESPN. He was wearing a white tank top and gray sweats with white Hanes socks. The Giants were pissing him off all season, but they had beaten the Patriots in the playoffs; and he couldn’t wait until he ran into Chris Duffy on Monday to rub it in. When he received the text from Meghan his heart raced. He was a little anxious because he wasn’t sure why she was asking whether or not he was awake. She never texted him this late, so he was concerned. It wasn’t 30 seconds before he replied, “YES. YOU OK?” He hoped she would respond swiftly and she did.

“NEED COMPANY,” she wrote back. 

He mistook her text as a question and thus answered, “I WOULD LOVE IT…” He was genuinely concerned for her well being, but also hoped she was looking for a little more than a shoulder to cry on. He couldn’t be sure with her; she was so complicated and hard to read. It aggravated him and enticed him at the same time. Sometimes he would look for signs but she would never give in. He didn’t know when things were going to be business or pleasure, if she would be Finch or Meghan, hungry or horny. Either way he was there to support her intentions and was willing to let her decide where things would go. She was destined to be an awesome coworker if nothing else. “COME BY. I’LL BE UP IF YOU LIKE.” He was eager to see her.

“BE THERE IN 5.” Meghan wasn’t far away. She didn’t intentionally drive close to his house, but once she realized how close she was to Sydney’s house, she was inclined to message him. Her eyes were getting heavy anyway and the ride home was going to require a bit more stamina than she could afford at the moment. Meghan drove a gunmetal gray 2007 Honda Accord. She connected her iPod through the audio port. It had played the R&B artist Brandy’s album Full Moon, almost to its completion by time she felt tired. She was ready for a break.

Meghan was frustrated with the Pearson case and harassing messages she received from anonymous sources concerning the details and individuals involved. One man would call from time to time saying, “Watch your ass, bitch.” or “Take the deal and fuck off.” She tried to get a trace on the calls, but her efforts were unsuccessful.

After a few shots of Glenlivet 18, all reservations were eliminated. The first time they had sex, Finch made the first move. She was attracted to Sydney Brown from the first time she had met him a year ago, but she had kept it to herself until that particular evening when she needed company. Ever since then they would sneak off in between assignments and find places in the precinct they could have private time.

Finch’s first interrogation consisted of a case dealing with four young adults suspected of kidnapping and murder over an unpaid drug debt. The victim was 23 year old Dale Walker. Dale Walker was a known felon with a rap sheet that went back to assault and battery charges received at the age of 13. Boston detectives were familiar with this kid. Brown wanted to see how Finch handled an interrogation where most of the evidence was circumstantial. They needed a confession or a witness to verify their hunch that these four were at the center of the murder. Finch’s strategy was to start by putting two of the four suspects in separate rooms, and then group the other two in a separate room to appear as if they were conspiring against the others. Brown sat back and watched it all unfold. He refused to help with the questioning and would only interfere if things got out of hand.

Patrick “Patty” Quibby was in room 4C. He sat in the room with his arms folded. He wore an over sized black shirt that read MONEY, POWER, RESPECT. Finch took the folder of evidence and beefed it up, grabbing a few papers out of the recycle bin. She walked in and sat down.

“Patty. Patty, right?”

“Yes.” He didn’t give her eye contact.

“My name is Detective Meghan Finch. I’m leading the investigation on this case and I just need a few more details to write this report before it’s complete.”

“I’m not sure what this is about or how I can help you. Why am I here?”

“Dale Walker. He was murdered two evenings ago. I just needed a few more details here so we can wrap this up.”

“Dale? I haven’t seen Dale in like three weeks.”

“Are you sure?” She reached in her folder. 

“That’s a picture of you and Dale outside of the McQuick’s on Lincoln a week ago. I have pages and pages of phone calls between you and Dale’s cell phone this Monday. Here is a list of the text correspondences between you and him the day he first disappeared...” She tossed a thick folder on the desk.

“So what!? I ain’t got shit to do with that boy getting murdered.”

“I’m not here asking for you to tell me what happened. I already know. And your friend Drew gave us a five page statement...” She pulled out some papers in the back that had nothing to do with anything, but Patty was too stupid to look closely.

“WHAT!?”

“I was just gonna ask you your address so we could complete the paperwork to charge you with first degree murder.”

“DREW? Nah. Drew wouldn’t even...”

“Drew is here in the other room waiting for a ride home. He’s identified you as the shooter and wishes to take a plea deal.”

“Bullshit. I had nothing to do with it.”

“Well, I have his statement and the D.A. is making quick deal with him. They’re hashing out the details right now.”

“I don’t believe you. You don’t have a case.”

“No? Your friends, Felix Ricks and Carmen Shirley, are here, too. Carmen and Felix are dating right?”

“So?”

“They are in another room writing a statement right now, as well placing you at the scene and identifying you as the shooter”

“Bullshit!”

“Really? I’ll show you. Oh and Carmen’s pregnant, or maybe you didn’t know. She’ll do anything in her power not to have a baby in jail.” Brown helped escort Patty to the room where Drew is being held. Prior to this, Finch had come up with a story where Drew named Patty as one of his alibis. Finch approached the room with Patty. She told him to stand aside and watch. She opened the door and pulled out a picture of Patty and said, “Is this him?” 

“Yes. That’s him right there.”

“You fucking liar!” Patty yelled out and charged the room but Brown and a few others grabbed him and brought him into the room. He turned his head toward the other side of the office and viewed Felix and Carmen in the room talking with another officer. This made him even more upset and fueled his anger like a steam engine. The detectives antagonized Patty.

“You sure you have nothing to tell us?” one officer teased.

“Your friend has a lot to say.” Another detective chimed in.

 Patty was extremely furious. His hands were shaking. His eyes were watering up. He and Drew had their story straight, and Drew had double crossed him,
That bastard snitch! 

Finch played them all. While Drew thought that he was only identifying Patty as his alibi, Patty thought that Drew was identifying
him
as the shooter and when he saw Carmen and Felix his guilt made him imagine they were snitching him out. Finch’s clever scheme opened the floodgates. Carmen and Felix caught the tail end of the ruckus. They saw Patty being escorted away and figured Felix and Drew were making a deal against
them.
After the commotion subsided, Patty, Felix, Carmen and Drew were in a race to the finish to see who could come up with the best plea deal by ratting out the others. It turned out that Carmen and Felix really had nothing to do with the crime. They thought they were riding to the corner store to buy cigars to smoke marijuana. When they all reached the store, Patty and Drew saw Dale and an argument developed. Carmen and Felix went back to the car to wait. The other three walked out into the parking lot and continued to argue over money. Patty and Drew started shoving around Dale, causing Dale to supposedly pull out a knife. Drew pulled out a gun. Drew was the shooter.

Meghan was eager to take off to the next assignment but not without a physical check in with Brown. Just before they made their way to the next assignment, Finch and Brown slipped off into a storage closet on the north side of the precinct. This side of the precinct had been under construction for a few weeks. Brown had a spare key to the closet and they would use it whenever the urge came during working hours. Brown wanted to tear her out of her clothes as rapidly as possible. She couldn’t wait to have him against her even if for a brief moment. A quick slip away in a closet was not beneath either one of their standards. Their love affair was very discreet, and Finch made sure of it. She suspected that Brown was developing deep feelings because the way he touched her was changing in passion and purpose. She tried to keep it business but that line was crossed a while ago.

Frankie decided to close the bar for the next two days so that the bar could be thoroughly cleaned for the new season. He also needed to think about the future of the bar, the fight club, and how he would deal with “the mysterious Abigail” who came into his life and made him rethink a lot of things. Abigail spent the morning cleaning the kitchen. She decided it was time for a small break as she waited for Roger to arrive. He was on his way. Frankie asked them to go to the store to buy more supplies that they would need for cleaning and for other miscellaneous items they would need for normal business operations. As she waited for Roger, Abigail sat in the back corner reading the Boston Globe. She flipped through the pages uninterested in most of the news. Eventually she focused her attention on an article that described a house fire that had killed three people and the family dog. DORCHESTER BLAZE KILLS THREE. Roger suddenly knocked on the door. Abigail jumped up and opened the door. 

“Elvis, you ready?” he asked.

“Yes.” she answered. “Let’s go.” Abigail grabbed her backpack off the edge of the bar before she left. She took out her keys and locked the door. Abigail and Roger stepped out onto the sidewalk while chatting.

“We really gotta get this place clean today before Frankie flips out,” Roger said as he watched his feet press against the concrete sidewalk. 

“Especially the basement. I can smell the stench upstairs through the vents sometimes,” Abigail said.

“Gross. You have a good nose. I would seriously vomit from the smell of old sweat and blood... Anyway, I’m working on something and you sort of promised you would check it out so… How about tonight?” Roger asked shyly.

“After work? Sure. Long as you promise not to set me on fire with your little contraptions.”

“HA HA HA! Maybe setting you on fire would make you more appealing.” Roger wished he was brave enough to flirt with her. Abigail smiled.

Unbeknownst to Abigail and Roger, detectives Brown and Finch drove past them with Finch behind the wheel. Finch and Brown were on their way to their latest case. Detective Brown sipped his coffee which he had transferred from the mug to a thermos. Finch’s phone rang. She looked at it and ignored the call. She took a deep breath and turned up the radio.

“Who’s that?” Brown asked.

“My mother–in–law.”

“Yikes. What’s up with that?”

Finch ignored the question. “Tammy is on the scene. I told her
not
to let Fisher touch anything. All we need is his grimy little hands contaminating the crime scene. They want us to park in the garage to avoid making a spectacle. Security will let us in.”

Finch and Brown arrived at the Chapel and Case building, the company formerly run by Alan Jiang. They passed the front of the building and pulled around the corner to the parking lot in the back. A security officer had been waiting for them. He walked up to Finch’s window and bent over to address her. His tattooed hand rested on the door.

“Detective Brown?”

“I’m Finch. He’s Brown.”

“Sorry. I’m Turner West. I was told to let you guys in and make sure we keep things quiet. I’m gonna swipe you in and escort you to the lobby.” He took his security badge from around his neck and waved it past the sensor. The bar rose. “Park in Jiang’s reserved space over there.” Finch drove her car through. She took a right turn and pulled into the parking space. She and Brown exited the car. Brown left his thermos in the car and tightened up his tie as he walked around the car. He shook hands with West.

“Nice to meet you.”

“No one ever took the space?” Finch inquired.

“No. Ms. Moore already had a better spot. No one has filled her position yet. I’m not sure they are actively looking. I’d assume whoever takes her old job would take the space.” He led them through a door. "The lobby is right through there. I have to head back to the lot.”

“Thanks.” Brown and Finch echoed in unison.

Brown and Finch headed through the lobby. The lobby floor was made of white marble tile with light gray mineral swirls. There were little speckles of gold and silver, which reflected the sun that beamed through the enormous sized windows that comprised the lobby walls and ceiling. In the center of the floor was the Chapel and Case logo inlaid in gold and platinum colored tiles. They showed the guards their badges as they walked towards the elevators. Brown and Finch discussed the case as they rode in the elevator. Brown cleaned his glasses with a cloth, put them back on and adjusted them to fit his face properly.

“So... Where did they find it?” Finch asked Detective Brown as she watched the green floor numbers display on the screen.

“On the window sill… of his office,” Brown shrugged.

“On the what?” She laughed. “You gotta be kidding me. How did that happen?”

Brown was just as confused. “Not a clue in the world. Hopefully we can find out when we get up there. I just wanted to get there before Fisher, but that didn’t work out so much.” 

On their way up, Finch sent Detective Tammy a text. “COMING UP NOW. BE THERE IN A MINUTE.” 

“Yeah maybe we shouldn’t have started our investigation in the storage closet earlier.” He smirked. She punched him in the arm and smirked a little. For Finch, business was business. She didn’t like to discuss anything about their relationship while on the job. This was the first time she let it slide.
I’m getting soft.