The Reluctant Witness ( 1 )

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Gary Mullins roused at the annoying electronic beeping of the phone, sleepily unaware of how this call would forever affect and alter the rest of his life. 6

"Yeah," he mumbled when he finally recovered the receiver from the floor. Someday he’d learn to find it in the dark without knocking it off.7

"Gary?" said the too-loud voice on the other end.8

"Who’n hell’d you expect to find at this number?" He rolled over with the phone to his ear, not willing to accept that the call probably meant the end of his too short night’s sleep.9

"Shit, not everyone gets to sleep at night you know." The voice paused for a second. "This is Vince."10

"Yeh, yeh. Keep on talking."11

"There’s a body out here, at Blendon Woods - a woman - dead." 12

Gary winced and shook his head against the pillow. Vince was a good cop, eager and sincere, and didn’t waste a lot of words. "I’ll be there in 20 minutes." He hung up the phone and swung his legs over the edge of the bed wishing there was some way he could take a shower. But, there was no time. There was never any time. No time to take a shower, to eat meals, to live his life. There were only dead bodies and witness, or no witnesses, and paper work and … He rubbed his eyes with balled fists, yawned and stood up, then, suddenly light headed, he grabbed the bedpost. That seemed to be happening more often lately. He probably should see the doctor but there was never time. Instead of high blood pressure his might be low. Somehow that would be appropriate – he never seemed to be like anyone else.13

At the dresser he opened the drawer, pulled on a pair of boxers, then, bracing himself against the wall, a pair of white socks. He lost his balance, falling against the dresser and swore. He pulled on some slightly torn Levis, an old Ohio State sweatshirt and, in a feeble attempt at civility, rinsed his mouth with the green mint mouthwash that he couldn’t remember buying. Some deodorant, a pair of cross trainers, double knotted, and he was ready to go. At the refrigerator he took a big gulp from the orange juice container then, knowing that more food was probably a long way off, grabbed the left over part of yesterdays meat ball sub and headed for the garage.14

Swearing again, he hauled on the overhead door, cursing himself for not getting the opener repaired. Without the motor, the damn thing weighed a thousand pounds. Slowly it yielded. He backed the car out of the garage, then climbed out and, remembering to be careful where he put his toes, eased the door down, jumping back as it slammed to the ground. As he backed out of the driveway he saw his neighbor’s light come on and a face appear at the pulled-back blind in the window. Reminding himself to apologize when he got the chance he headed for Blendon Woods.15

He got there before the crowd – thank God it was still early. The vultures would be arriving soon.16

"Ah, Mullins. You didn’t have to dress up for us you know." Amanda Graziano smirked at him. The new sergeant, all 100 pounds of her, greeted him as he headed toward the lights.17

"Screw you," he shot back, not feeling at all like humoring her.18

"You wish, you bastard. But it won’t happen." She said that even though she wished that it would happen and fell in beside him, her short legs working hard to keep pace with his long strides. "What you been eating? You got some kind of red stuff all around your mouth."19

"Meat ball sub," he said, wiping his hand across his face. He ran the other hand through his short blond hair as he walked, the sleepy feeling gone from his eyes but the fatigue still weighing down a body that gave the impression of being a little long and lanky but was actually very well muscled. He needed to quit this shit, get some nice security job, take his lump sum retirement settlement even though the lump wasn’t very big yet and get away to some place quiet, where trouble is a barking dog or a loud muffler. Too many dead and mutilated bodies, too many doped out teenagers, too many fucked up lives. Just too many and too much. Besides, his stomach was flopping and he hadn’t seen the body yet.20

"Whad’da we got, Anda?" he said through his teeth, not sure he really wanted to hear.21

"A young woman. Well, anyway, about 30 I guess. Looks like maybe she was strangled. She’s in the bushes over there," she said pointing to where he could see flashlights moving around behind the green foliage. She put her hand on his elbow to guide him around to the far side. "This is the best way, so we don’t disturb anything."22

She was laying there, face down, her skirt up around her waist but otherwise looking undisturbed. Somehow he felt relieved, even though it seemed sick to be relieved that she was only dead and not mutilated. Only dead! He took a deep breath and shook his head.23

"You OK," she asked, sounding truly concerned.24

"Just tired," he lied. "What’s the story so far?"25

"Well, good, bad, and a little strange." She watched him turn and look at her, a puzzled expression crossing his face. She enjoyed it when he looked at her. Even in the faint glow of the flashlights she could see the deep blue of his eyes, the square jaw with the muscles tensing and relaxing as he ground his back teeth together, a habit he had acquired over the last year in the department. She knew that every time he saw her it was somehow associated with murder, death, blood and long hours of overtime. No way to cultivate a relationship, therefore, no relationship. It was her turn to sigh and look away. "A guy on his way to work found her. Heard some dogs in the bushes and went to see what was going on." She looked at him again. At least being around Gary helped. Or at least it used to. He was Mr. Relaxed despite the job, joking easily, smiling and flashing those white teeth, eyes twinkling with mischief. But not so lately. He had started the teeth grinding and the smile was harder to come by. He had even started to grumble about the job. Mr. "just doing my job" suddenly seemed to find the job doing him. She eyed his profile as he stared at the woman’s body, watching him momentarily biting his lower lip.26

"Well, little girl, you gonna’ stand there and stare or tell me what the hell that cryptic little statement means." His eyes were still locked on the body.27

"Pervert," she said quickly. "Stop starin’ at her ass."28

A humorless chuckle barely escaped his lips. "Yeh," he said softly and shook his head again.29

"Shit, Mullins, I’m sorry. You know her or something?"30

"I don’t think so," he said seriously. Then, with another small laugh he added, "at least not from this side." He looked at Amanda. "This sucks, doesn’t it. Geez!"31

She smiled weakly in return, restraining herself from the quick answer that popped into her mind. Mullins had a reputation, deserved or not, and she had not been a part of it, at least yet. She thought it strange that she would want to be. But then, that was probably because she didn’t really believe most of it. It was one of those ‘womanizer’ reputations that she suspected came mostly from women who had struck out with him rather than the ones he had actually spent some time with.32

"Go ahead," he said.33

"Well, she’s got marks around her neck like someone strangled her. No one’s moved anything yet until the ME gets here but we can’t see anything else. If you," she paused, clearing her throat nervously, "shine a flashlight between her legs it looks like she’s got semen all over her, on her legs and everything else in the general vicinity." She looked away. "Over there," she said gesturing toward the other side of the bushes, "Vince found her underpants. And, the grass there is pretty long and looks kind of smashed down, an area about the size of a body." She looked at him again. "About the size of her body it looks like. Semen on the ground there too and a couple of dug-up spots about where feet would be if you were – well, you know."34

"Having sex?"35

"Unhuh. Having sex," she agreed. "The ground is kind of soft and there’s footprints all around. Big shoes and deep prints, like a very large person was there. And a book of matches – fresh. It rained yesterday afternoon you know and these were dry and in good shape. Looks like they got dropped during all the action. Her purse is there too, in the grassy place. No one has bothered it yet but it’s closed, like no one took anything."36

"You recognize her?" he asked. "Can’t tell exactly from here but she doesn’t look like any of the hookers I know." He crouched down and looked at her carefully. "But, then again, look at that dress. Looks expensive to me. Not like any of the hookers I'm used to being around. What do you think?" He glanced up at her from his crouch and for once, she didn't have to bend her head back to talk to him. She could see the little cowlick at the back of his head, his short hair not quite laying the way it should. He obviously hadn't brushed it before he left. She moved closer and crouched down too, then stood up quickly. There was a dead body laying in front of them and all she could think of was getting close to Mullins. Talk about perverts.37

"No, I don't recognize her and I think you're right. Nice clothes and she looks like she takes care of herself." They both stared at the body for long minutes. Then, suddenly, she remembered something. "You know Woodford don't you."38

"Sure. I've worked with him a couple of times. He here tonight?"39

"He was the first here. You know how observant he likes to think he is. Wanders around like he’s lost but seems to see things that no one else does. Well, he showed me something when I got here and he seemed kind of proud of it although I'm not sure it means anything. Come here, I'll show you."40

She led him around the bushes and back toward a small thicket of trees. Once there, she bent over and shined the flashlight on the ground until she found what she was looking for.41

"Woodford said this might not mean anything but, when he was looking around he saw these footprints. This area is kind of away from things so there normally shouldn't be too much traffic and so, not too many prints around, particularly after the rain. See these," she said, shining the light on an area that was sparsely grassed but mostly dirt. "They're small, like a woman's shoes. The toe's a little too pointed for a man or boy's. They lead toward the bushes over there. Then, right here," she said, moving the light along, "there are several grouped together, like she stopped and shuffled her feet around here." Then, carefully, she moved around the tracks and shined the light again. "These tracks are from the same shoes but spaced farther apart and deeper."42

"So, what's the theory?"43

"Woodford thinks someone was walking along here, for who knows what reason, stopped here when they saw what was going on over there, then ran away. That's why these tracks are deeper and farther apart."44

Gary looked off into the distance, stretched his neck from side to side and grimaced. He looked up at Amanda. "Gimme a fu…" He stopped himself. "Gimme a break, please. Has that asshole ever been right?" He rubbed his hand over his face and wished he could be back in bed asleep. It just seemed that anymore, he was never in bed asleep.45

"That's not fair, Gary," she said, not quite sure why she jumped so quickly to Woodford's defense. "You know he's good and he's right more than he's wrong even though a lot of his stuff is pretty far out. You remember that rape case last year. It was his idea that the guy was the building super and used his pass key to get in even though he'd gone outside and broken the window to cover it." We never did figure out how he spotted that."46

"Come on, the guy's a loose cannon. We're all going down with him one of these days trying to develop one of his wet dream theories. How many hours did you spend staked out on that little guy with glasses a few weeks ago? How many people did he kill or rape or maim?"47

"I didn't say he's been right every time." She hated to get into arguments with Gary but it seemed to be happening more and more lately. And, not just with her but with everyone. Other officers, witnesses, perps, you name it and he could pick a fight. She turned her back on him and looked back toward the bushes and the others, feeling suddenly isolated and more depressed than the murder should have made her. The air smelled musty and damp, chilled and heavy. Everyone was talking in undertones and, as far as she was from them, were unheard. She shivered and suddenly felt like she'd like to cry. When she went into police work she hadn't known it would be like this. But, even with that against her, she had worked hard and had more than earned the sergeant's stripes. Tonight though, she felt like crying. Mullins stood up and stepped close to her in order to see over her head just as she turned back toward him. He was suddenly there, a brooding shadow, a darkness right in her face. She let out a frightened squeal and swung the flashlight up toward his face, hitting him under the chin. His teeth clicked together sharply and his head jerked backward.48

"Shit, Graziano!" he yelled, hands to his face. He bent over and spit.49

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said reaching for his face. She touched his hand and he looked at her between his fingers.50

"Shine the light and see if I'm bleeding."51

"I didn’t hit you that hard. And hold still so I can look at your mouth."52

"Yeh, whatever," he responded. "I bit my tongue."53

He stuck out his tongue and she leaned close and shined the light on it. Maybe I should kiss it and make it well she thought. There was a tiny cut on the edge from one of his teeth. Being so close to his tongue made her tingle. She felt badly for hitting him but it had turned out better than she could have expected.54

"Well," he said.55

She looked up into those blue eyes. "You'll be okay," she said, wrinkling her nose quickly.56

On the other side of the blue eyes he watched her. Somehow her being this close dampened his anger. And it wasn't really anger as much as frustration. His frustration seemed to come out as anger a lot lately. And that, in itself, was an additional frustration. He wasn't really like that, but he certainly was lately. But, for a reason he suspected he understood, this particular anger seemed to be melting away. A lot of warmth there to melt that much anger he thought. And, he wondered if his eyes twinkled at all when he thought of her kissing his tongue to make it well. She was close enough that he could feel her breath on that not so seriously injured tongue. He'd really never seen her this close. Oh, maybe he had seen her this close but he'd never noticed her that closely. She didn't really look like the iron maiden that most of the guys called her. Brown hair, brown eyes. Really brown eyes, he thought. Like really rich milk chocolate. Why didn't she have black hair and eyes like most Italian girls? Nose just a little crooked with a little lump in the middle. Made her look a little tough maybe. Nice complexion, he noticed in the glow of the flashlight. He noticed her head slowly cock to one side.57

"You okay, Mullins?"58

He blinked. My brain is turning to shit, he thought, and that’s the second time she’s asked me what’s wrong. "I need a vacation," he said a little under his breath. 59

"What?"60

"Yeh, I'll live," he said.61

"Graziano, Mullins. You guys over there?" Vince's voice shattered the muted quiet.62

"We're here, Vince. What do you have?"63

"The ME's here now. You want to talk to him?" Vince yelled across the short space between them.64

"Crap, Vince. We're not in the next county." Then, he feigned ducking. Shine your weapon so we can see, Graziano."65

"You're not funny, Mullins, but I am sorry I hit you in the mouth. You scared the shit out of me, sneaking up like that."66

"I didn't sneak up. You were off in a dream somewhere and just didn't see me."67

"It's early and we're both still half asleep."68

"I thought you pulled the all night shift this week."69

"No thanks, just the dead body shift."70

"Better duck behind the tape," he said quickly, glancing over his shoulder. "I think I see the Channel 12 van."71

"Where there's smoke there's fire, Mullins. Or maybe that should be where there's fire, there's Smoker."72

Gary looked around quickly, hoping not to catch sight of Lynn Smoker before he could get behind the protection of the crime scene tape. Then he saw her, just about the time she saw him. Trying to cut off his angle she attempted to run but couldn't manage it in the big heeled shoes she was wearing. He was behind the tape before she got there but she still pointed a finely manicured finger in his direction. 73

"Hey you little shit, don't run from me."74

"Nice to see you too, Ms. Smoker."75

She was wearing a lightweight, casual, but extremely feminine suit, the sky blue color accenting her eyes even in the early morning darkness. Her blouse was covered in light blue flowers with pale green leaves and was buttoned to the top. The coat sleeves were rolled up one time, exposing her wrists, the diamond-studded watch sparkling faintly in the dim glow from the sky, the fine gold chain on the other wrist nearly invisible. A small gold leaf was attached to each ear, a fine white pearl dangling from a chain at the bottom. 76

"Asshole," she said sharply, straightening her skirt.77

"If only your vast TV audience could hear you now. Or maybe your audience is really only half-vast."78

She silently mouthed an obscenity. "Yeh, well, what's going on."79

"I'm sure someone will have a statement for you later. I guess you'll just have to wait." Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a cameraman hustling across the wet grass. Gary hoped he might fall down but there was no justice at all this morning. He arrived, panting and trying to get a stubborn cap off the lens. "Seriously, Lynn, no pictures yet. We don't know quite what's happened here. Oh, by the way, have you met Sergeant Amanda Graziano?" he asked, gesturing.80

"Yeah, we've met," she said, ignoring Anda. "Don't forget, you bastard. I was here first and I want the first interview." Again she pointed her finger.81

Gary smiled gratuitously and turned around, mumbling.82

"Did you say what I think you said?" Amanda asked in an incredulous whisper.83

"She's probably double-jointed. I think she could do it." They walked toward the lights.84

"You think she heard you. How the hell do you keep her from tearing you apart on the air? I never speak with anything but the finest cordiality to any member of the press corp."85

"She probably heard me but we understand each other," he said. "We go back a long way."86

"I've never heard her talk like that before. I know she's a bitch - everyone says that. But, she's sure smooth and polished in front of the camera." Anda stumbled but caught herself immediately. An All-American runner in college, she was agile and coordinated and always seemed inexhaustible. She was also much stronger than she looked as not a few foolish men had found out. And, extremely determined. Determined to be successful, determined to be independent, determined to be whatever she chose to be. And, just as determined not to be an easy mark for any Tom, Dick or oily pickup line that oozed out of some bar-hopping creep’s mouth. Not too surprisingly, she seemed particularly sensitive to everyone she worked with, cutting off any adventuresome explorer quickly with a vicious glare from those big brown eyes or some very sharp words if they be needed. Gary, never the receiver of either the glare or the sharp words, was never-the-less impressed that the rejections were always quiet and private, never where others could hear and gloat. Thus she had earned the Iron Maiden nickname as these stories circulated as they tend to do among men who have no pride in this area nor common decency, nor the general morality needed and which, at some far distant time, had been highly respected. Unfortunately for her, police officers seemed to be worse than most.87

"Believe me, the smoothness and the polish didn’t come easily for her. Remember, I said we go back a long way. Remind me sometime and I’ll tell you the story." He smiled that big smile at her. Then it was quickly gone as he spotted the ME bent over the dead body. "Hey, doc. Early for you too, isn’t it?" He tried to keep his voice light, not the easiest task on this kind of a morning.88

"Days are days," was the tired reply. "Nobody forces me to keep this job." Doctor Myron Goldberg turned a puffy face toward Gary. "How about you, Mullins. It’s early for you too I suppose." The doctor was short, heavy, red faced and generally irritable, but also thorough and very capable.89

"Thoughts?" Gary said, then added, "You know Graziano, here?"90

"Sure," Goldberg answered, his smile more of a mouth-only grimace. "You’re a sergeant now, right?"91

She was surprised that he remembered that tidbit of information but couldn’t help but smile slightly with pride.92

"Hell, yes," she shot back. "Big time now."93

Goldberg’s smile broadened a little. "To answer your question," Goldberg said, returning his gaze to Gary, "White female, 28 to 32 years old I’d guess. No I.D. on her?" he added.94

"There’s a purse that’s probably hers over there," he said, gesturing toward the grassy area. "We should get into it pretty soon. See if the picture boys are done, will you Anda.95

"Let me hear this first," she barked, a little more strident than she’d intended but, still, it got her point across.96

"Shit! Sorry," and after a slight pause he smiled and added, "Sergeant."97

It was impossible to be upset when he turned on that big smile, so she just smirked in response.98

"I’d guess she’s been dead 4 to 6 hours. Temperature out here’s a little cool and she’s really just starting to stiffen up. I need a closer examination but it looks like she had recent sex. Quite a mess too. Sure wasn’t the modern version of safe sex although, from the looks of her, they might have used the old "interruptus" method. If it was consensual and she’s not on the pill, they may have wanted to be safe. I don’t see any bruises or anything so if she was raped, it sure as hell doesn’t look like she fought very much."99

"Yeh, I’d hate to get you pregnant mam, five minutes before I kill you. Maybe he was worried about two counts rather than one."100

"Sick, Mullins," Amanda said, shaking her head.101

"Go on," Gary countered, ignoring her comment.102

"Nothing under her fingernails that I can see. Clothing in good shape, no tears and not dirty at all, and very expensive. The lady either had money or a good friend at the Salvation Army store. Also, if you uncurl her left hand there you’ll find a diamond that I’d guess is somewhere toward the two caret side of ‘more than one.’ Her wedding band looks to be more diamonds than gold. Notice the big gold chain around her neck. Anything that wide and thick goes for big bucks. The marks there tell me it was used to strangle her, even if that’s not what killed her."103

Mullins turned quickly to Amanda. "Make sure they check it for prints, Anda."104

"No problem, big guy. I’ll be right back." She headed toward the grassy spot where two or three of the investigative team were hard at work. In just a few seconds she was back holding a small flat piece of plastic. She shined her flashlight on the plastic.105

"Says here her name is Mrs., not Ms., Ellie Highland of nearby New Albany." She turned toward Gary. "Vince pirated this out of her wallet. He says it’s full of the long green stuff. Looks like we’ve got a rich murderer who doesn’t need the money.106

"Good, a cooperating police department to deal with. You know," he said pensively, looking into Amanda’s big brown eyes, "when rich people are murdered there’s usually hell to pay, and it’s not usually the victim or the killer who do the paying." He rubbed his hand across his eyes. "Would you like to go with me while I share a few words with Ms. Smoker?"107

Fifty yards away, a small figure dressed all in black watched Gary and Amanda head for the TV truck. Then, it turned and melted away into early morning darkness.108

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At the tape Gary didn't have to wait long. Lynn Smoker spotted him almost immediately, even in the dim light of early morning and headed in his direction, camera man in tow. He watched her approach, tall, attractive, well put together, and as deadly as a female spider in heat. She actually appeared to have a smile on her face and she wasn't even on camera. Her long blond hair swept around her face as she walked; amazingly steady on the soft wet ground even in those stupid shoes she wore. She didn't bother to brush the hair aside until she was directly in front of him, surely knowing that such small feminine acts tend to weaken a man's resolve. Then, very delicately she tucked it behind an ear and indicated with a flip of her head for the cameraman to move away until she was ready. He followed her bidding instantaneously. Experience had obviously been a great teacher.113

"I don't know why I treat you like shit, Mullins. You're actually a pretty nice guy." Without moving her head she swung her eyes toward Amanda. "Pardon my language Ms. Graziano," she said, almost sounding sincere.114

"Right," Amanda replied, looking away toward the trees and drawing in a deep breath. Then, unable to resist the challenge she added, "bitch."115

To their surprise, a big grin spread across Lynn Smoker's face. "You're training this midget to sound just like you, Mullins." She seemed to move forward so that Amanda would have to bend her neck backward in order to look her in the face. Lynn liked to read people and intimidate their weaknesses. In Amanda's case though, she had been just a little insightful and a whole lot lucky. "Could you leave us alone Sergeant Midget. I need to talk to Detective Mullins alone." The look from her eyes could have cut steel.116

Wounded, Amanda reacted. "Fuck you!" she hissed, the veins standing out on the sides of her neck. She looked at Gary but he was silent. Left dangling, she spun on her heel and stomped back toward the flashlights still crisscrossing the crime scene. Her face was red, her ears were ringing, she was having trouble seeing and her blood was boiling. More than anything she wanted to flatten that cute nose on Smoker's face and splatter blood all over that prissy suit she was wearing. Who wore a suit like that at 5:00 in the morning? Someday Lynn Smoker might wish that Amanda Graziano were her friend.117

Gary watched Anda's retreating back, then rounded on Smoker. But before he could say anything she quipped, "I just wanted to be alone with you Mullins. You know I've always been hot for your body." 118

He knew she was kidding. She said it lightly, brushing off her crudeness to Amanda, but she had said the same thing enough times in the past, always using it to sidestep an indescretion on her part, that he had really begun to dislike hearing it. In fact, he hated it when she said it. She was always too aggressive any more. Like the scorpion that stung the turtle after it ferried him across the pond, she couldn't change that. It was her nature, a nature that she had adopted rather than a natural one. He knew that she realized this but neither would her nature let her stop. And for that, he pitied her. He couldn't let her see that because she'd kill him if she did but, despite this, they were still good friends.119

"She's a good cop, Lynn. As tough as you are in her way, maybe even tougher. I hope you never have to find out. Her becoming a sergeant is like you becoming the news anchor. Doesn't happen a whole lot."120

"In my case, buddy boy, never. At least not around here. I'd have to start over somewhere far away. I could do it if I wanted to."121

"Hard to be a news anchor when you wearing a muzzle, isn't it?"122

"Lighten up, Mullens. I get tired of swearing at you although you're about the only one left that I can swear at. Being good is hell, you know that."123

"Of all people, I know that."124

"I suppose. But there's good and then there's good, buddy boy. I can be law biding but I sure can't be good - at least not all the time. How's your mother doing? Any better?"125

Taken aback by the sudden change of course, Gary had to think a minute before replying. "You asking about yesterday, the day before that or last week?"126

"Still up and down, huh." Her voice has softened dramatically; her face had lost its stiff intensity. She almost seemed not quite as tall as she had just moments ago.127

He nodded sadly as their eyes locked. At moments like this there was a connection between them that he coveted. He felt something well up inside of him, something that threatened to burst if he would allow it. She had to be able to feel it too, sense it from his eyes. He supposed that was what kept them around each other. It was an invigorating connection. But it never lasted. A few seconds, a minute, a few minutes at the most and then it was gone again, suffocated by that same nature that put her where she was today rather than where she began 28 years ago.128

"Sunday, she knew me. At least most of the time." His voice sounded frail and shaky, whether from his mother's condition or from the last minute with Lynn he wasn't sure. He hoped she thought it was the former.129

I'm sorry," she said. Then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. She motioned over her shoulder for the cameraman. "You got something good for me?" Her voice was again strident and aggressive.130

"Not much that I can tell you," he began.131

"Can or will," she countered.132

"In this case, can. We don't know too much yet."133

"Who is she?" she asked, untangling the microphone cable.134

"That's a part of the will," he answered. We'll release that as soon as we can, hopefully within a couple of hours."135

"Okay. I know it's a woman, in good shape for being dead, maybe strangled, no panties on but probably not raped. Good so far." He shook his head and sighed deeply. "I listen, Mullins, and sound carries well out here in the woods."136

"Use the first two but not the last two, okay. We're just guessing from a distance on them. You ready now."137

"Ready." She nodded to the cameraman. He stepped forward and the bright light flashed on blocking out everything but its own brilliance and Lynn Smoker who had moved against the bright yellow tape so she could be closer to Gary. In a strangely hushed and muted voice she began.138

"This is Lynn Smoker at Blendon Woods in north Columbus where police have just discovered the body of a young woman who has apparently been murdered." She turned toward Gary. "Detective Mullins, what can you tell us about this horrible crime."139

"Well, Lynn," he began. "The body of a young woman was found here in the woods about an hour ago. It appears that she was murdered although we don't have too many details yet."140

"Since you said, appears, I assume she wasn't shot or stabbed or otherwise mutilated." The look on her face was serious and concerned. Damn, she was good.141

"As I said, we don't have all the details together yet. We're searching the whole area here for possible clues and evidence."142

"Thank you, Detective Mullins." Then she turned back toward the camera. "This is Lynn Smoker reporting from Blendon Woods, the scene of this city’s most recent homicide." She tossed the microphone to the cameraman. "Thanks Bernie, good job. See you back at the truck." Bernie, now dismissed, trundled back toward the TV van, the microphone cable flapping around his ankles.143

"Say, Ms. Smoker. Where the hell are all the other stations? How come you're exclusive on this one?"144

"As soon as I get all the details on that I'll let you know, Detective Mullins," she said, mimicking his delivery. Stepping away, she blew him a kiss. "See ya, Gary. And let me know just as soon as you have more information, you little bastard." She moved away, blond hair again billowing across her face, her long legs in those stupid shoes looking mighty good from this angle.145

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Damage control. He hated it. Departmentally he left it to the guys in the big offices who seemed to thrive on that kind of activity. Sometimes with the press he got stuck with a little of it but not very often. On a personal level, it was something he tried to avoid, like sweet potatoes that made him gag and hypodermic needles that made him want to faint and aggressive women that made him want to shrink up and disappear. But, because of his personality, he always seemed to draw that duty. "Hey, Gary. How ‘bout helping me out with my wife, here? She’ll believe you, man. She trusts you. I’m really in deep shit. Okay? And thanks a lot. I’ll make it up to you." Or sometimes, "Gary. The Lieutenant’s on my ass. How about a good word, okay?" That’s what happened when you smiled too much and tried to be a little optimistic in a world that daily stomped on optimist’s toes and smacked them in the back of the head every time they turned around. Now he had to find Graziano and try. People who didn’t know Lynn Smoker sure didn’t understand her. And she didn’t do much to help herself. What’s more, she didn’t seem to care. But he knew better on that count. It was easier for her to appear indifferent than it was for her to retreat or apologize or to show anything that someone might misinterpret as weakness or timidity. When someone called her a bitch, she took it as a compliment even though, at one time, that was probably the last term anyone would have used to describe her. Those days were long gone now and probably never to return.150

He started off toward the small figure he could barely make out in the orange glow of the rising sun. The sudden beauty of the sunrise framing the stark ugliness of the murder scene twisted his heart and made his eyes burn. He looked at the ground, unable to comprehend the contradiction surrounding him - Smoker and Graziano. What the hell was he going to do? When he looked up she was standing directly in his path, feet apart and hands on hips. Mighty Mouse, he thought, a picture of one of his favorite childhood comic book characters flashing across his mind. Where’s you cape? he thought, but, thank God, had enough sense not to say it.151

"You defend her and I’ll kick you in the balls so hard you’ll do nothing but puke for a month!"152

So much for plan A, he thought. He shrugged his shoulders. Wait a minute. Was it his imagination or were her brown eyes now a little red. The more he looked the more he realized that he was right. Had she been crying? No way. But, here she was, out away from the others. Thinking maybe, or brooding … or crying? This wasn’t Lynn Smoker he reminded himself. This is Amanda Graziano. Five foot two and 100 pounds of toughness. Tough? There are different kinds of toughness, physical toughness, mental toughness, emotional toughness, spiritual toughness. Mentally and physically, he knew she was tough. Emotionally? He really didn’t have anything to use as a baseline. But, just maybe, he could use a little different tact with this situation.153

"I think we’re through here, don’t you?" He looked around. "I didn’t see your car so I guess you rode with Vince." She just looked at him. "I’ll go tell him we’re leaving – you can ride with me." He paused for a second. "And, believe me, I won’t tell anyone." He hoped the sincerity that came out through his mouth matched what was inside him.154

"What?" she said sharply.155

Slowly he reached out and, with his thumb, gently wiped away the last remnants of a tear from her cheek. Their eyes met for an instant. Then she wheeled around, her back to him. He waited for what seemed to be long, long seconds.156

"I’ll meet you at the car," she said quietly and began walking in that direction.157

Connections, he thought. They come at the strangest times and in the strangest ways.158

159

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161

Gary climbed in behind the wheel of the unmarked patrol car. Amanda was already there, staring trance-like out the front window. He started to say something, thought better of it, started the car and began the long trip downtown to the station. He watched her out of the corner of her eye. She obviously couldn't handle weakness, or what she perceived as weakness in herself. She was tough, she competed and she won. It was a simple recipe but you can sometimes get the wrong ingredients and the recipe, no matter how good, cannot correct for them. Life was like that sometimes too - the wrong ingredients and the wrong results. And yet, even food prepared incorrectly can be good. It's just different than you thought it was going to be.162

"I think I'm going to see a doctor," he said finally.163

She turned her head slowly and looked at him. "You don't have to do this, you know."164

"What is it that I don't have to do?" He looked back at her but she looked away.165

"Make yourself out to be . . . " a long hesitation, "just like me."166

"I'm not like you, Anda. Never will be. I'm not… " Then it was his turn to hesitate. "Well, maybe I am. Yeah, I guess I am." Then he looked over at her again. "But I really do need to see a doctor. I keep getting light headed and losing my balance when I stand up fast, and some other times too."167

"Are you shittin' me now, cause if you are … "168

"No ma’am, I'm not. It's the God-honest truth. Happened this morning when I started out here."169

"Then do it," she said. "Do it right away."170

"Soon as I get some time."171

"Sure, Mullins. How about an appointment at 2:30 AM? Course there's a 50-50 chance that you'll even have to cancel that one too."172

"I suppose," he mumbled, resignation in his voice. Then, suddenly he turned his head sharply toward Amanda.173

"I'm not really too good at this kind of thing, you know. Look, I saw you shed a tear. And you know what. I think it's fine. I think it's REALLY fine. We're waist deep in shit all day long but I don't see many of us looking for a pony. She hurt your feelings. That doesn't make you a bad cop - or a bad person. In fact, it probably makes you a better person. And if you think being a better cop is more important than being a better person then . . . then I can feel sorry for you. Besides, you know I don't talk. You're just mad at yourself. Lighten up a little, Sergeant." He emphasized the last word.174

"Thanks," she said. "You have a couple of reputations around the station. I guess at least one of them is true."175

"They're all just guessing, Graziano, just guessing."176

"I won't say anything to confirm or deny." She took a deep breath and let it out, like releasing it pushed a heavy load away from her. "Now tell me about Smoker."177

"The bitch?"178

"Don't call her that. I think she enjoys it too much."179

"You think so, huh."180

"It looks like she does. She works hard to make sure she acts like one."181

"You're exactly right. She does work hard. It sure as hell doesn't come naturally."182

"That's hard to believe, Mullins. She's two different people. One on-camera and a different one away from the camera." She was becoming more animated, more normal. And that pleased Gary.183

"She sure is that. But she's way more than two people. I know several Lynn Smokers that you've never seen and, if she can help it, you never will see. No one will ever see."184

"Really? How's that?"185

"I've know her since we were five years old. We grew up together. Only she grew up in some ways a lot faster than I did. And in others, growing up seemed to take forever. We lived in Obetz, in a trailer park. I lived with my mom. She was with her mom and dad until her dad died in a bar fight. She was about six then, I guess. For the next few years it was Lynn, her mom and the step-dad de jour, or the boy friend de jour or the customer de jour." He looked away for a minute and she could see his jaws clenching and unclenching. "You get the picture. They didn't have any money. At least it never seemed like they did. We played together a lot since she got sent out of the trailer when her mom had something that she 'needed to do'" His head tilted a little sideways as he remembered those years that were so easily forgotten, but so difficult to forget. "You wouldn't believe that the reporter you see on television and that you met this morning is the same little girl I used to play with."186

"Did she have that blond hair then?"187

"Oh yes, it was blond. Not bright and silky like you see now. It was usually dirty and a little matted, kind of ratty looking. Made you want to give her a brush. It sure wasn't something that you'd notice, except for the wrong reasons. In fact she was so quiet, so withdrawn, so almost-not-there, that she was easy to lose, even when there was just the two of us. She ate at our house a lot. I suspect those were the only good meals she ever got. I think my mom would have adopted her if she could have. She used to worry about her all the time. She was afraid that some of her mother's "friends" would begin to notice her.188

"Neither of us had a lot of friends, but we had each other. It was like that clear into junior high school. She spent so much time eating and playing at our trailer that I really thought of her as a sister. I still do. My mom was determined that, if nothing else, she would be well fed. I suspect, without that, there would be no "Lynn Smoker reporting live."189

"So, where did all the changes come from?" Amanda seemed to be listening intently now.190

"Hormones," he answered. "Hormones everywhere. Hers and a lot of the guys around the junior high school. And I never even noticed. Pretty soon some of the guys were asking me about my really hot friend and could I put in a word for them if she wasn't already taken, and so forth. I couldn't figure out what they were talking about for a long time. Then one day she came over to the house and had dinner with us. It was a warm spring day and after dinner she went outside and sat on the trailer steps and mom grabbed my arm when I started out the door. 'Have you noticed the changes in Lynn?" she asked me and I said, 'Sure, great aren't they.' But I didn't have the foggiest idea what she was talking about. But when I went outside, I decided I'd look. Look I did and, for the first time, see I did. She was obviously brushing her hair and keeping herself really clean, which had to be quite a job in the conditions she lived in. And, her body was changing too. Evidently my hormones weren't raging yet because I sure hadn't noticed. Connections, realizations, insights, whatever, they come at strange and unexpected times. The sun was going down and she was kind of silhouetted against the horizon. She was a different person, at least for me, from that day on.191

"But, unfortunately, there weren't too many days for us after that. Mother's fears came to pass. One of her mother's friends decided that the daughter looked a little better than the mother. Lynn hit him in the head with a skillet. It was full of hot grease." She walked out the door of the trailer with him screaming on the floor and we didn't see her again until three years ago when she turned up as a reporter for channel 12."192

"Do you know where she'd been?" Amanda really seemed to be hanging on every word.193

"We know the facts about where she'd been, in Colorado where she talked a family into taking her in. She worked for them and they enrolled her in school as a relative from out of state who was living with them for a while. She graduated from high school with honors, went to Colorado State, got a degree in Broadcast Journalism, with honors, worked in Illinois for three years and came back to Columbus. But, I really don't know where she's been."194

You said she was quiet, withdrawn, timid. Mousy?" she questioned with raised eyebrows.195

"Very. But not now. You see her. No resemblance to the Lynn Smoker I grew up with. Not even to the new girl I saw that evening on the trailer steps. Physically, sure. When I was able to step back and really look for the first time, even at that age I knew she would be, well, a babe, as she got older. And she is. Like her or not, she's a babe. But the rest of it. Today I would give a lot to have been there and seen the metamorphosis."196

"Metamorphosis? Is that one of those fancy police terms, Mullins."197

"Graziano, since we're sharing secrets this morning, I'll share one about me but you've got to promise ahead of time that it's only between us."198

"Why this sudden intimacy, Gary. Is there something going on here that I should know about?" She smiled her most suggestive smile as he glanced over at her.199

Her eyes sure are brown, he thought, particularly in the warm glow of the rising sun.200

"Okay, I guess you don't want to hear it." He looked away.201

"No, no, I do. Go on."202

He was silent for a moment. "I'm a member of Mensa."203

"No shit!" she responded quickly. That's that high IQ club isn't it? And you're a member."204

"Sure. That allows me to use words like metamorphosis. People like you aren't allowed, you know."205

She punched his shoulder. "Really, a member." A slight shrug of his shoulders gave her the answer to her question. "Then why didn't you go to college? You should have had scholarships." He didn't respond. "Then let me tell you. You graduated from high school with honors." A nod from Gary. "You had scholarship offers but you turned them down because your mother was getting sick and there was no one else to take care of her. She'd been poor all her life and you were going out to get a job to change that before it was too late."206

"I don't think I was quite as noble as you make me sound but that's basically it. We had two or three years after I became a patrolman where we could live what seemed like royalty to us. Then her mind started going away and I couldn’t take care of her any more. It seems such a waste."207

"She got you raised and I’ll bet there were many times when she didn’t think that would happen. That’s sure not a waste."208

"That’s what insects do, Anda. Hatch, eat, breed and then die. People should be able to get more than that."209

"Do you think your mother is disappointed in that?" She had turned sideways in the seat, leaning against the door so that she could watch his face. She could hardly imagine having this conversation with another policeman, particularly another male policeman.210

"She can’t understand those kinds of things now," he said. A defeated and very morose look crossed his face and stayed there.211

"But if she could?"212

"She can’t."213

"But if she could?"214

He looked across at her. "You think she would be satisfied," he said, a statement more than a question.215

"Yes, I do. Don’t you? From where she was to where you have come. I think she’d be very satisfied, and proud."216

"Maybe," he said. "It’s hard for me to see that now but I suppose you’re right. We both had goals. Her’s were for me and mine were for me and for her."217

"And her’s were accomplished and your’s only half way. It’s natural for you to be a little disappointed and bitter about it but she wouldn’t want that. She’d want only joy and happiness."218

"Yeah," he finally replied, resignation in his voice. He looked at her again, the brown hair, the brown eyes, the really brown eyes. In some ways she reminded him of Lynn Smoker. The Lynn he had grown up with, not the Lynn of today.219

"Answer a question for me then, Mullins. If Lynn Smoker has overcome all these obstacles to get where she is today, why did she treat me the way she did? The first time she looked at me I knew she didn’t like what she saw. Why don’t I get some credit for what I’ve done? I’d think we might be … compatriots of a sort. What gives?"220

He thought for a moment, then looked over at her again. "This comes from me, not her. I suspect it applies to her too but I’m just not sure we’re tuned in like we used to be." There was a pause and a deep breath. "When you come from as far down as we were, the bottom rung of the ladder, everyone looks like they’re starting higher than you are. Everyone has a silver spoon. All accomplishments are easier because they didn’t have as far to go as you did. You develop a territorial chip for your shoulder, a bottom-rung chip and it affects everything you do and everyone you see. You can work hard to get rid of the chip and sometimes you’re able to knock it off. But, when you look, it’s back. And you’re not sure whether it jumped back without your knowing it or, maybe you picked it up yourself and put it back. It’s a helluva sticky chip, too. Sometimes I think I should have signs all around me saying, ‘Watch out for the chip!’ I’m really working to get rid of it for myself."221

She watched a look of utter anguish briefly darken his face, then disappear.222

He continued. "I don’t think Lynn tries to get rid of the chip. I don’t think she even knows it’s there. She looks at you and thinks that you’ve done nothing compared with what she’s done. So, she puts everyone down, even me. I had a mother that loved me. She didn’t. My rung was a little higher than hers. In some ways I don’t know her any more and she worries me. I missed a lot of her life, how she got to where she is today. Why was channel 12 was the only station out there this morning? How was she there so early and all dressed for her TV interview? How did she get the truck and camera man there even before I got there?"223

"You think she has a connection in the department?"224

"Probably. I also think she has, and I don’t know exactly what to call it other than this, ambition. She’s driving forward all the time, driving, driving, up the ladder. I’m afraid she doesn’t care who she knocks off in her scramble to the top, wherever the top is for her. Despite all the dinners at our trailer and my mom’s talking, I don’t think morality has much meaning for her. At least not now. Legalism, yes, but morality, no."225

"You think she’s dangerous, then."226

"To anyone she comes into contact with, and to herself." The dark look crossed his face again. "Particularly to herself."227

Amanda thought of her mother and father, her loving home, her brother and her sister, the family times together, the laughter and jokes, all the hugging and the sharing. She felt like she’d like to hug Mullins right now, just to share warmth and comfort. She could feel the red in her cheeks and hoped he couldn’t see it. There was no explanation for it.228

"You love her don’t you."229

He answered without hesitation, almost as though he knew the question was coming. "Like a sister," he said. "Like the sister I didn’t have. Like the sister I saw leave, that I grieved over, and who finally came back. But she almost wasn’t my sister anymore, and yet she still was. She came back disguised as someone who looks a lot like me in some ways. And it scares me."230

"You’re not like her," Amanda said decisively. "Not at all."231

"Thanks," he replied. "I try, but some days I’m not sure whether that’s good or bad." He smiled at her. Then a worried look crossed his face. "Do you feel okay? Your face looks really … flushed."232

"No, I’m fine," she answered, sure that her face was flushing even more. "Just fine." For a few minutes this morning she had become like his childhood Lynn Smoker. And that was all right with her. Being a sister was better than being just a friend.233