The Tipsy Gull, page 6
part #1 of Danny Barbosa Series
“But you weren’t in the lobby?” Danny asked.
Jeb glared at Danny. “I’m not finished. I was going to say I noticed more apartments. So, as I’m stepping back into the elevator, I noticed a woman exit an apartment a couple doors away.”
“Could you tell which apartment?” Ben asked.
Jeb raised a hand in the air. “I’m trying to tell my fucking story, okay?”
Danny bit his tongue to keep from retorting and Ben told Jeb to go ahead.
“I held the door open for her because she looked hot in a tight pair of jeans, but she didn’t see me and headed the other direction, toward the stairwell.” He paused again and looked from one detective to the other. “Uh, how does this reward thing work?”
Danny narrowed his eyes and shook his head. This fool was looking to cash in.
“If any of the information you provide helps us identify the suspect and she’s consequently convicted, the reward is yours,” Ben said. “Do you think you could identify her? I mean, that was a year ago?”
“I don’t know. Anyway, back to my story. I continued down to the lobby and stopped to call my wife and let her know I was having drinks with some buddies. I guess I was blocking the doorway because I heard a woman’s voice behind me say, ‘Con per miso, Señor.’ I know some Spanish because my dad owns a farm and we have a lot of beaners working for us. I turned around, and there’s the woman I’d seen upstairs standing there with her head down.”
“What’d she look like?” Ben asked.
“Them bean- uh, Mexicans, all look the same, you know. Black hair with brown eyes. She was a few inches shorter than me.” His eyes lit up. “I do remember though, she had a yellow and blue Nike back pack…”
The woman seen at Tavoli’s Bar had the same back pack. Danny glanced at Ben who nodded.
“…that stood out, because one of our farm workers had the exact same bag. I had to search it because we thought the fucker had stolen our tools. You know how those Mexicans are.”
Danny rolled his eyes and clinched his fists under the table. This arrogant racist was getting on his nerve. Another shot would help right now, but of course he couldn’t exactly pull one out in front of this witness. He glanced at Ben, whose facial features told him Ben felt the same way. Danny asked, “How do you know she was coming out of the apartment where the murder took place?”
“The next time I visited my friend, she showed me the dude’s place on the second floor. It was the one I’d seen the girl come out of.”
“Okay,” Ben said. “Anything else you can tell us?”
“Yeah, after she said excuse me, I moved out of her way but stayed on the phone. She got into a nice little red sports car, all shiny and new looking.” Jeb turned his head sideways and cracked his neck.
Maybe they’d get a break and something about the car would stick. Danny raised his eyebrows. “Did you get a license plate? Or maybe recognize the model of the vehicle?”
“No, can’t say I did. Just that it looked brand new, so it was probably stolen.”
Ben rubbed his temple. “Anything else?”
“Uh uh.”
“Let me get this straight, Mr. Wilkinson. You saw the killer walk away from the crime scene but didn’t come forward until now?” Ben asked.
Jeb shrugged and took his cap off. He ran his fingers through his oily hair. “I really didn’t want it known that I was there that night.” He smiled and put his cap back on, backwards. “It’s complicated.”
“Not really, asshole.” Danny stood over Jeb, breathing heavy. “You’re busy fucking some other woman the night Stevenson was murdered. You saw the killer, but were too chicken shit to come forward. Now three more people are dead.”
Jeb stood and stepped toward Danny. “I’m not a chicken shit!”
“You’re a fucking piece of shit.” Danny shook his head in disgust.
Ben rose and stood between them with his hands up. “Okay, partner. I’m sure he feels bad enough.” He patted Danny’s back. “Why don’t you go get some fresh air?”
“Yeah listen to him and walk away.” Jeb jabbed his finger into Danny’s chest.
Danny’s temper ignited. With an explosive force he wrapped his arms around Jeb. He picked him up and body slammed him onto the desk—a textbook USC tackle. Jeb’s legs dangled off the table while he shook his head, dazed. With a fistful of Jeb’s shirt in his left hand, Danny smashed his right fist into the man’s face. Blood spurted out the broken nose. He delivered another punch to the side of Jeb’s head. Danny pulled his arm back to strike again, but Ben grabbed it, and Danny’s elbow inadvertently caught Ben on the cheek.
“Enough. Stop it!” Ben’s strong voice halted Danny in his tracks.
Shoulders slumped he stepped back and took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, what am I doing?”
Two other detectives rushed in and helped handcuff Jeb. He blinked a few times and shook his head, before trying to lunge at Danny. Ben and the others held him back, and Danny stormed outside for fresh air.
He rubbed his face with trembling hands. He’d let his temper get the better of him and was in deep shit. Imagining the lawsuit and Internal Affairs Investigation, his stomach cramped, and he doubled over in pain.
Danny sat on the bench taking shallow breaths when Ben walked toward him, lips pursed, and eyes narrowed. He shook his finger at Danny. “You listen to me and listen well. I wouldn’t do this for any other officer, and I’m not doing it because you’re my partner or friend. I’m doing it because that racist asshole deserved what he got.”
Depression blanketed Danny like a fog. He was sick to his stomach. “I fucked up, Ben.”
“Look, I know you have a temper, but you’ve never crossed the line before. I’m to blame too. I should have stepped in sooner when he put his hands on you.” Ben squeezed Danny’s shoulder. “This is what we’re going to do.”
After Ben explained the plan, Danny shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Ben raised his voice. “You want to lose your job? We’ll call Tala right now and let her know.” He pulled his cell phone out and held it to Danny. “Go ahead. Explain to your daughter why her dad lost his job and that’s why she’s homeless.”
“Fuck!” Danny lowered his head. He muttered, barely audible, “Do what you have to.”
Wilkinson received the standard medical clearance from the County Hospital. He had no injuries besides the broken nose. After that, he was booked at the San Diego County jail on charges of obstruction of justice, battery on an officer, and resisting arrest.
Four detectives sat around a table. Three of them were getting their story straight while Danny stared at the wall. Ben’s cheek was red, and they planned to say Jeb hit him so Danny jumped in to subdue Jeb.
One of the detectives patted Danny on the arm. “Don’t worry about it, big guy. Look, the guy’s going to sue the department anyway. Our lawyer will talk to his lawyer and work out a deal. The charges he’s facing will be dropped, and he’ll drop the lawsuit. This shit happens all the time.”
Danny nodded without taking his eyes off the wall. Several times during his football career, his short fuse drew fifteen-yard penalties for unsportsmanlike conduct at the most inopportune times. He left and sat in his car for a moment, holding his head in his hands. He needed a drink, and if he went home, Tala would nag him. He would go to a bar.
CHAPTER 8
Danny pulled his Camaro into the parking lot of the Lion’s Den, a neighborhood pub near his apartment, where Paul and he used to hang out after bowling. He turned the ignition off, and his hands shook. Was it because of what he’d done to Jeb or was he craving a drink that bad? He took a deep breath. There were only three cars in the parking lot. This place used to be standing room only on weekends. The news had mentioned business at local bars had dwindled, just like last year when the killings started, but being married and doing most of his drinking at home, he hadn’t noticed it. He slipped out of his jacket, tossed it on the passenger seat and loosened his tie.
He headed toward a stool in the back. His footsteps crunched as he walked over a layer of peanut shells littering the floor. The side wall was adorned with Chargers and Padres schedules and posters. Two pool tables were crowded together, both empty now. Heather, a flirtatious blonde bartender worked here last time. Had it been that long? He realized it’d been a couple of years since he’d been in here.
“I’m Matt. What can I get you, buddy?” The bartender asked.
“Double Jack and Coke.” Danny’s hand still trembled as he pulled out his debit card. “Keep it open.”
Four guys sat at the bar and a middle-aged couple at one of the small tables. He better phone Tala and let her know where he was. Patting his shirt pocket, he realized the phone was in his suit jacket. He headed toward the front door when it burst open and three of his old friends swaggered in.
“Hey, Barbosa’s here,” one of them announced.
After a round of hugs, Danny joined them at one of the tables, the call forgotten. He used to bowl with Tony, and the other two guys were regulars here. They spent the evening talking about bowling and football. Matt overhead them and mentioned he was a big USC fan.
It was almost two in the morning when Danny left the bar. He wasn’t against taking a taxi if he was drunk, but tonight he only had a buzz and his apartment was just a couple of miles away. He fired up the Camaro and headed home. Shit, I forgot to call Tala. A block down the road, he reached across the seat, fumbling for the phone in the pocket.
The blast of a horn sounded. He jerked his head forward. Red light. He slammed on his brakes, and the car skidded to a stop in the middle of an intersection. His heart boomed in his chest and he swallowed hard. The horn blower had slammed on his brakes too, and now flipped off Danny as he drove around the Camaro.
“Whatever, pal.” Danny continued onward to the next intersection. A police cruiser was backed into a parking space at a convenience store. Figuring the cop was looking for DUI’s, Danny suddenly realized he probably shouldn’t be driving. He felt okay, but .08 was .08 and he had to be past that.
An old pickup rumbled to a stop in the lane adjacent to him, and Danny recognized the driver from the bar. Although the light was red, the man drove on. The patrol car pulled out, activated its lights and siren, and took off in pursuit.
“Better you than me,” Danny mumbled. A cop might give him a break for speeding, but because of the influence of MADD, there was zero tolerance for drunk driving.
Danny pulled into the apartment complex, relieved he made it home. He’d been lucky. As he walked toward their apartment, the front door swung open. Tala stood there, hands on her hips. He didn’t say anything as he shouldered past her. The door slammed behind him.
“You couldn’t call? Where were you?”
“Working late,” he said over his shoulder as he headed to the kitchen.
“With alcohol on your breath?”
“Give me a break, will you? I worked a long shift so a couple of us stopped at the Lion’s Den to have a beer and unwind,” he slurred, not wanting to get into his actions at work.
“With Ben?”
Ben didn’t drink. He knew that she knew that. Was she trying to trick him? The first names that popped into his mind were the other homicide team. “No, I was with Tiny and Lisa.” He headed toward the kitchen.
She stomped after him. “Lisa, huh? Is she married? Does her husband know she’s hanging out at bars with you until two in the morning?”
Tala didn’t lose her temper often, but even buzzed he recognized the anger. “It’s not like that.” He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “There was a group of us.” He opened the fridge and grabbed a Bud Light. Now that he was safe at home, he could drink more. He reminded himself to buy more Jack Daniels.
“Ben called and said you left work at eight.” She pulled the beer can out of his hand. “Where the hell were you?”
He wasn’t mad at Ben, for he hadn’t known Danny had gone to the bar. More than likely, he was calling to see how Danny was doing. However, Tala was starting to piss him off. She had no right to snatch his beer. He glared at her before opening the fridge, then grabbed another can and made a show of popping the tab in front of her face. He downed half the can. The cold beer tasted so good. Why did she have to nag him when he wanted to keep his buzz going? He wanted to get drunk and forget all about his stupid actions at work.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough? Who brought you home, anyway?” When he looked the other way, she added. “Oh God, tell me you didn’t drive!”
He sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. Tala buried her face in her hands for a moment, and then threw them in the air. “Danny, what were you thinking? You could have killed someone.”
“Get off my fucking case already.” He downed the last of the beer and crushed the can on the tabletop.
“Fine.” Tala stormed into the bedroom and came out with his pillow and a blanket, throwing them onto the sofa. “It’s your turn to sleep here!”
She retreated to the bedroom and slammed the door shut.
“You’ll wake up Jessa,” he yelled. Grabbing another beer, he sat on his recliner to watch TV but couldn’t concentrate on any program. If word leaked out about his assault on Jeb, he could lose his job. This was something he needed to share with Tala.
He staggered toward there room and knocked lightly. “Tala?”
Sobbing came from the other side of the door, and his heart sank. He never intended to hurt her and now felt like a heel. He knocked again. Louder.
“Go away!”
“I have to talk to you about something.”
“I have nothing to say to you. Go away!”
“This is important, it’s about my job.”
Tala opened the door, put her hand on the door frame and scowled. “What!?”
“We had a guy come in today, a new witness to the murder last year.” He paused and took a swallow. Her eyes tracked the can. With a sigh, he walked over and set it down on the coffee table. She followed him and sat down.
“He saw the killer walk out of the victim’s apartment, but never came forward.”
“And this justifies your drinking how?”
“It doesn’t. I know that, but I need to tell you what happened.”
She crossed her arms. “Okay, what happened that made you lose common sense and not bother phoning me?”
She wasn’t going to make this easy, but he didn’t blame her; he brought it upon himself. He looked at the floor and continued. “I broke his nose and hit him in the head. I would have kept hitting him but Ben pulled me off.”
Tala gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “Danny! That’s not like you. What were you thinking?”
He looked down in shame, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. How much had he drunk? The room seemed to spin. “I could have lost my job. I’m sorry, love.”
“Yes, you could have. And where would that leave us? We’re trying to buy a house.” Tala’s lips trembled. “Were you drinking at work? I can’t even imagine this side of you.”
Danny put his head down. There was no way he could admit to her that he was. “It’s not that. I just wasn’t thinking and lost my temper.”
He explained that he had stopped at the Lion’s Den to have a couple of drinks. He hadn’t been with Lisa and Tiny but had gone alone to get his head on straight. Then a couple of old friends showed up. Even the bartender who was a die-hard Trojan fan had remembered him from his USC playing days. He called him Berryosa, but still, it was nice to be remembered.
“We talked football all night, and before I knew it, it was closing time.”
Tala put one hand on her hip and shook the other in his face. “You should have called me, or a taxi. It’s not safe for you to drive when you’ve been drinking.”
He put an arm around her and pulled her close, inhaling her floral scented shampoo. She clung to his chest. He was relieved she was more concerned than angry. Her nipples stretched the sheer nightshirt and he kissed her neck. “Let’s go to bed and makeup.”
She turned her head when he tried to kiss her lips. “I don’t think so. You stink of booze.”
“Whatever.” He stood and staggered to the bathroom to shower.
***
Jessa sat at the edge of her bed holding back the tears. When things quieted, she peeked out and saw her parents holding each other on the sofa. She said a quick prayer of thanks and turned to her cell phone. Pushing a stray hair out of her face, she took a deep breath, then scrolled to a recent contact. He’d messaged her the other day, but she hadn’t replied yet.
Cameron: Hi Jessa, I’m Cameron. I saw you on FB. We’ll both be at Union High this year. I hope I have a class with you.
Jessa’s fingers trembled as she typed a reply and hit send.
**
A cell phone sitting on the computer desk alerted the twenty-one-year-old of an incoming message. Glancing at the name of the sender—Jessa—caused a smile to break out. The beer was put down, and the message read out loud. “Hi Cameron, how old are you?”
**
Jessa stared at her phone, waiting for the reply. Her heart raced and she muttered to herself, “Please be awake.” Her best friend, Lara, texted her, but she ignored it. Another message arrived, and she opened up the chat.
Cameron: I’m fifteen. How old are you?
She read his message twice, before typing, almost fourteen. Her hand hovered over the send button and her eyebrows furrowed. She erased the message retyped it, and with finger still quivering, hit the send button — Fourteen and a half.
***
Danny returned to work with a new zeal. He’d gone the weekend without drinking and didn’t have any withdrawals. Did that mean he wasn’t an alcoholic? He was sure he wasn’t, but Tala’s words had an impact, papa was alcoholic. He shook it off and smiled as he thought about their trip to the Boardwalk on Sunday. It had been a magical day full of fun and laughter. They needed more of those.
