The Tipsy Gull, page 26
part #1 of Danny Barbosa Series
“Danny you said you called it in, and they claimed you didn’t. Wouldn’t there be a record to prove it?” Scott asked.
“When they found him, his hand-held radio was on the wrong channel. That’s why nobody copied him.” Tanner said. “I told them that, too. Danny, if you knew who that lieutenant was, I’d bust his balls right now.”
“Why’d you resign?” Scott asked.
“I was a rookie and still on probation. A union rep recommended it saying it’d be easier to get another job with a resignation on my record rather than a termination. They wouldn’t even let me look at the reports, either. They said now that I was a civilian, I wasn’t privy to that information.”
“Fucking pricks!” Tanner said. “Who’s got the next round?”
“Guys we have to work tomorrow, and I still have to drive you both home,” Scott said.
They decided to leave and on the way to the car Tanner promised Danny he’d email him copies of the reports from back then.
Scott dropped Tanner off at his hotel, then dropped Danny off and let him know he’d be there in the morning.
“Thanks, partner. I love you, man,” Danny slurred.
“I love you too, now get some sleep,” Scott said.
Danny walked through the house and Zoe barked from the back yard. He let her in, and then checked the refrigerator. There was little to eat and no beer. Sighing, he sat down and pulled his phone out of his shirt pocket. It was off. He turned it on and read his text messages
Jenny: Come see me tonight, I’m horny.
Jenny: You’re not answering your phone. Text me back babe.
Jenny: I’m drunk. Come fuck me.
He checked his voice mail next. “Mahal, it’s almost seven, I thought you’d be home from training. Maybe you’re at a meeting. Call me back.”
Next message. “Danny, it’s eleven, your time. I hope you’re asleep, but I’m worried. Call me when you get this message.”
He couldn’t call Tala drunk. She’d be disappointed in him. Not ready to call it a night, he headed to the liquor store at the corner, texting Jenny as he staggered down the street.
Danny: Just got home. Come over and I’ll fuck you.
Jenny: Really, babe? Give me the address. I’ll close early.
He shook his head to clear it. What was he thinking? He couldn’t let her know where he lived. At the store he bought a fifth of Jack Daniels, a two-liter Coke, and three deep fried burritos.
He ate two of the burritos and tossed the third to Zoe. The Jack, he downed straight from the bottle. It was 3:05 in the morning when he staggered down the hall. He vomited halfway to his bedroom, then continued and plopped on the California King. His cell phone rang, and he answered it. “Danny speaking, talk to me.”
“Thank God you’re there, mahal. Are you okay?” Tala asked.
“Uh huh.”
“I couldn’t get hold of you earlier and I was worried. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I had training. Tanner was there, remember him from Fresno.” Danny burped. “He was there.”
There was a long silence.
“Hello?” Danny said.
“Have you been drinking?”
He shook his head. “Maybe a little. Guess what, I didn’t kill that man in Fresno. You remember the one.”
“Danny, you’re drunk. What happened to your meetings?”
“No, no, I’m going. I love you, babe. I just wanted to tell you I didn’t kill anyone.”
Tala sobbed into the phone.
“Hush. What’s wrong Jenny, why are you crying?”
Tala’s native tongue flowed smoothly. Though the words sounded beautiful, he doubted there was good cheer behind them.
“What’s that mean? Look, I’m sorry I’m drunk. I won’t ever do it again, okay? Hello, are you there?” Danny looked at his phone. “Huh, maybe a bad connection.”
From out of the blackness, Danny jerked his eyes open and sat up in bed. Somebody was pounding. He looked around, trying to orient himself. He glanced at the clock, 7:27.
He jumped out of bed, and the room spun. Groaning, he pressed his palm against his temple and headed to the front door. “What the fuck?” he looked to see what he’d stepped in. Vomit. Dragging his foot along the carpet to wipe it clean, he continued to the front door.
Scott looked him up and down. “You wore that yesterday, maybe you should change.”
“Huh?” Food stained the tan polo he’d worn the day before.
Scott brushed past him and glanced at the half empty fifth on the counter. “You drank more?”
“Damn, I don’t remember. Give me a minute to shower and change, will you?” He circumvented the soiled carpet on the way to his room. The sour smell nauseated him and he gagged, but held it in.
He let hot water pulse onto his shoulders while rubbing his temple. He dressed, and by ten to eight was ready. Inside the car, two drinks filled the cup holders. Scott drove with a coffee in his hand.
“Mine?” Danny nodded toward them.
“Yeah, drink the one in the blue cup first, it’ll help. The other one’s coffee.”
He sniffed it and Scott explained it was a concoction of orange juice, 5 Hour Energy, honey, and egg yolk. Shrugging, he downed it along with ibuprofen Scott handed him.
“What happened last night?” Danny asked.
“We went to Lion’s Den, you were telling us about your OIS, but Tanner said you didn’t kill the guy.”
“Yeah, I kind of remember that,” he said, looking through his phone. “It looks like I talked to Jenny and Tala, but I don’t remember that.”
“You going to go back to your meetings?”
“I think I better.” He checked his text messages. “Aww Jeez, I sent Kelly a text too.”
Scott pulled into the parking lot and Danny said. “There’s my car. I was going to ask you if you knew where it was.”
Scott shook his head and said sternly. “Go to a meeting tonight.”
At lunchtime, Danny, Scott, and Tanner ate from the Taco truck at the corner, sitting on wobbly plastic chairs. The instructor cut their lunch to thirty minutes so they could be dismissed early. Tanner took a bit of his burrito and sauce dripped down his shirt. “Damn, that’s good. Did I tell you last night what’d happened after you got knocked out?”
Danny looked at Scott with a raised brow. Scott answered for him. “No, you said you were going to forward copies of the report to him.”
“Yeah, that’s right. But I’ll tell you what I remember.”
“Yeah? Let’s hear it.” Danny sipped albondigas soup from the Styrofoam cup.
Tanner scratched his head. “Let’s see…So you never answered your radio or came in at the end of the shift, so an APB was put out and they found your patrol car. Officers went door to door until they found you.”
He closed his eyes for a moment than opened them. “The first officer on scene had a Rottweiler charge him, so he had to shoot the dog. There was a naked woman at the top of the stairs and her body had been chewed on by the dog.”
Scott’s hand froze at his mouth, and he put the burrito back on his plate.
Tanner took another bite and continued. “You were found unconscious in a closed room with a man who’d been shot in the gut. He was dead. Uh, Stillings. I think.”
“Schilling,” Danny said. The rest of his food went uneaten as he fixated on Tanner.
“Okay, Schilling. So anyway, the crime scene techs pieced it together. When the dog bit down on your arm, it caused your shot to go wide and hit the wall and your firearm fell to the ground. They determined the man hit you with a two by four after his canine unarmed you. That’s what knocked you out—a blow to the back of the head. He must have called off the dog after that.
“The woman you cuffed had a young daughter. The officers found her, uh, in the closet or under the bed. I don’t remember exactly. But she was naked and in shock. You don’t remember her?”
Danny’s heart raced. “No, I never saw a girl.”
Tanner nodded. “Candace or Cheryl, I don’t know, it’s been too long. She had picked up your gun and shot Shilling. They found gunshot residue on her.”
Danny lost his voice. A girl shot Schilling not him and it took twelve years to find out. He shook his head.
“Everybody in the house was naked.” Scott grimaced. “Was it what I’m thinking?”
“Yeah, Schilling had sex with the mom and molested the poor girl.” Tanner shook his head. “Her own mother had pimped her out for drugs.”
“Aww Jeez. How old was she.”
“I don’t remember, but way too young.”
After training, they were called up one by one to grab their P.O.S.T. certificate. Danny grabbed his, exited, and waited for the others, squinting in the afternoon light. Scott and Tanner came out together. Tanner promised to email the reports. They said their goodbyes and promised to keep in touch.
Back at the house, he took a two-hour nap. Afterward, he sat in the hot tub and called Tala. It went straight to voice mail. He called Jessa next. “Hey it’s me. How’s everything?”
“Dad, I’m glad you called. I’m okay, but Mom’s depressed since yesterday and won’t come out of her room. What’d you do?”
Danny furrowed his brow and tried to recall talking to Tala. The memory was blank. “I got drunk last night, she’s probably pissed off about that. I tried to call her, and it goes to straight to voice mail.” He leaned onto the deck not wanting to drop his phone into the water.
“Yeah, she busted her phone up, but won’t tell me what happened. You want to talk to her?”
“Yeah, put her on for me.” He took a deep breath.
After a moment, Jessa said. “Sorry, Dad. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Danny scratched his head. “Just tell her I called, okay.”
“Okay, Dad.”
“I love you and miss you guys.”
“Love you too. We’ll be home next week, I think.”
Danny lowered the jet stream and called his sponsor next. “Hey Tom, just checking in.”
“Well hey there, stranger, do I know you? How much you drink last night?”
I can’t lie to him. He rubbed his eyes. “Too much.”
“Okay, so at least one,” Tom said. “Let me ask you this, when was the last time you went to a meeting?”
Now he remembered why he’d been dreading his call. “I’m not really sure.”
“Then get your handy dandy court card out and tell me.”
“Now?”
“No, when the fucking bear shits. Yes, now.”
“I’m in the tub, hang on.” Danny shook his head and retrieved it from the garage. “I went to a–”
Tom interrupted. “Hold on there. When you say tub, does that mean you’re calling me while naked?”
Danny laughed. “Not the bath tub, the hot tub. I’ve got my trunks on.”
“Son, you scared me there. If you ever call me while naked, that’s the end of us.”
Zoe barked again but Danny laughing fit made it hard to quieter her. When he caught his breath again, he whisper yelled, “Zoe. Quiet,” then to Tom said, “Looks like the 30th was the last one.”
“Yep, I figured as much. You know today’s the 4th right? Was there something about daily that you didn’t understand?”
“No, it’s just…I was doing okay, Tom. I went a week without drinking and then–”
“Okay, I got my calendar out,” Tom said. “The 30th was Friday. So, what happened Saturday?”
“You helped me move, remember.”
“That’s right. You bought a beautiful home by the way. Do you remember me telling you to go to a meeting that night? I think it was the last thing I said.”
“Yep, I remember.” He felt like a school boy chewed out by a teacher.
“Okay, on to Sunday.”
“I watched football, and then went to the apartment to pack up some more boxes.”
“No problem, shit happens. And Monday?”
“Busy unpacking, then had my bowling league afterward.” As he voiced the excuses, it dawned on him Tom was right to be lecturing him.
“What’d you shoot?”
“I had a 299 my first game.”
“That’s great. Well, I guess your excuses are good. I wonder why you drank Tuesday.”
“I was just going to have one drink.” He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth.
“Danny, my boy. One drink is too many and a thousand is not enough.”
He moved his lips along with Tom’s words. After promising not to miss any more meetings starting with tonight, he said good bye. He checked his AA schedule for meetings near his new house. A church, about a mile away, had one at ten o’clock. Although exhausted, he went and several people greeted him at the door.
“Welcome, brother.” A short twenty-year old man gave him a fist bump.
“Hi, I’m Becca, first time here?” A red-headed woman asked.
“I’m Carol,” a stocky woman about Danny’s age said with a smile. “There’s coffee in the back, help yourself and grab a chair.”
Even though he didn’t know any of these people, they reached out like every other meeting he’d gone to. The same posters with the same aphorisms that were at the other places, dotted these walls. Danny strolled toward the back. The smell of coffee burning reached his nose. A tall, church coffee urn, sat among stacks of Styrofoam cups. Littered sugar packets lay on the plastic dollar store table cloth. The hideous pattern and color clashed with the rest of the room’s décor. A glance at the clock on the wall prompted a chuckle to himself. Why are they always the same, exact clock?
Coffee in hand, Danny sat down. The realization crept up on him. His hands tingled. This was where he belonged. Was he at Step Two? He thought about the one-legged Seagull.
The secretary identified himself as Trevor and rang a bell. The room quieted. He read a passage: Alcoholics Anonymous is a fellowship of men and women who share their experience, strength, and hope with each other that they may solve their common problem . . .”
After the reading, Trevor said, “I asked somebody to read The Twelve Steps.”
Danny picked up the laminated card in front of him. He swallowed. “Here are the twelve steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. They are meant to be suggestive only…Step One. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable. Step Two. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity…” After reciting the steps, he let out a breath and set the reading down.
“Thank you, Danny. Now before we begin, would any newcomers, in their first 30 days of sobriety, like to introduce themselves by first name only? This is not to embarrass you but to let us get to know you better.”
He let a couple of others go first, and then blew out his breath. “My name’s Danny and I am an alcoholic.”
CHAPTER 33
After cussing Danny out in Bisaya, Tala slammed her phone to the ground. One piece bounced this way and another that way. I’m going to kill that bitch when I get home! She kicked the battery, then stomped on the front half of her cell. Because she wore flip flops, the impact wasn’t as great as she’d hoped. She picked it up and slung it into the underbrush. Why the hell did I leave him alone?
Tala headed to Papa’s lean-to behind the house and attacked the homemade punching bag with a fury that surprised her. The strikes lessened her anger. She shook her hands then wiped the sweat from her face. Tala shuffled to the back wall and slid to the dirt. She rubbed her flat belly that sheltered their unborn then buried her face into her hands and wailed. Here, she’d been so excited about having a child with Danny after all these years and had even made the decision that she’d stay with him even if he continued drinking. Now this, she wasn’t going to stand idly by while he had an affair.
***
Danny yawned as he entered the next report into the system. He was working on the old police reports from the file cabinet. His thoughts floated to the Slayer case. The Chameleon could be anyone with her Hollywood grade makeup. He and Scott had made a lot of progress on the case and now Ben and McKenzie were going to get the credit. Let it go. With a sigh, he continued the simple task he’d started. He received a text.
Tanner: I emailed you the reports.
He texted a thank-you to his former bowling coach and opened his personal email. He'd print the reports later, but for now, he skimmed them. Officer Chance was the first one on scene and Danny went over the narrative of her report.
…I observed movement under a blanket, on the bed. Upon checking, I discovered an unclothed female child approximately six years old. I tried to ascertain her name, but she appeared to be in shock, repeating the same phrase over and over, ‘so much blood’.
Danny’s pulse quickened, as he thought about the notes left by the Chameleon. It’s just a coincidence. He continued to review the report and found out the child had been turned over to a social worker with Child Protective Services.
“Scott,” he said to his partner sitting across from him, checking reports from the file. He recalled Ben’s words about not screwing up Scott’s future. “Never mind.”
Scott shook his head and went back to work.
Danny cleared his throat and mumbled while he reviewed the report.
Scott looked up from his work. “Talk to me, Danny. What’s wrong?”
“This is going to sound crazy." He leaned forward. “I think the little girl that shot Schilling is the Slayer.” Voicing it out loud should have strengthened his conviction, but instead, it sounded foolish.
Scott fidgeted in his seat and licked his lips. “We’re not working on that anymore. You should hand that over to Homicide.”
“I know.” He pressed his palms over his eyes, then slid his hands down his face. “Do you want to look at this anyway?”
Scott’s eyes lit up as he darted around his desk and sat next to Danny. “Show me what you got.”
Danny held up a finger. “First off, witnesses from two of the murders reported hearing classical music coming from the apartment the night the victims were murdered. Schilling played classical music when he molested the girl.”
