“Tell me again,” Laura said. She was sitting on her bed wearing a bathrobe. She hadn’t cried and she didn’t know why. It felt like a betrayal. She had just learned that her only child was dead. She should be screaming, shouting, cursing, crying, something to show the world how much she cared, but what she felt was utterly and completely empty. Nick sat next to her. She leaned into him.
“Laura…”
“Tell me what happened to our son.”
“A homeless man found him under the Yakima overpass near the Goodwill. He’d been shot twice in the chest. They figure it happened sometime late last night. They don’t have any witnesses. They’ll let us know if they find anything else.” Nick paused. “There’s one other thing.”
“Tell me.”
“Ashley is missing. They can’t find her.”
“You don’t think Ashley….did this, do you?” Laura said, disbelieving her own words.
“Right now I don’t know what to think. I want to think it’s all some joke or one of their elaborate alibi schemes, but it’s not. I saw the body.”
“You what?”
“They asked me to ID the body this morning. That’s why it took me a few hours to get home. I told Augie. He said he was closing up the shop for the day.”
“I want to see him.”
“Who? Augie?”
“I want to see our son.”
Laura stood up. She started getting dressed. Moments ago she didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything. She didn’t want to leave this room, much less the house, but she felt a need to see Brandon’s body. She grabbed a pair of jeans.
“Laura, you don’t want to see him like this.”
“I don’t care. He’s my son.”
The ride to the Medical Examiner was silent. Nick drove. It wasn’t until they were in the car that Laura realized she didn’t have any idea where the Medical Examiner’s office was. As it turned out it was on the South Side of Tacoma. Brandon’s body was being held a couple miles up the hill from the flower shop. She’d driven by the building a hundred times and never noticed it.
Nick warned her once more before they went inside. They walked into the building hand in hand and identified themselves to the young woman at the reception desk. A moment later, an older woman who in any other setting would have looked like a grade school teacher, came up and introduced herself as Sarah. Laura followed Sarah down a hallway to a small room.
The coroner pulled Brandon’s body out of a large refrigerated drawer, unzipped the bag, and took a step back. The left side of his face was contorted, but he was still recognizable. The right side of his face was not. That side looked fake. The more Laura looked, the less she could see her son. This was not Brandon.
Laura had never been religious. She’d gone to a few churches in her life, but as the years went by, she found she believed less and less in any sort of God or spirit world. She felt this was the life you had and that was it. But looking at Brandon’s body, she couldn’t help but notice there was something vital missing. She nodded at Sarah. Sarah zipped the bag up again. Nick put his hand on her shoulder.
“Have you and your husband found a funeral home yet? I can suggest a couple.”
“No funeral,” Laura said surprising herself as she said it.
“Laura, what do you-”
“He’s not here, Nick. He’s gone. Let’s go.”
Ray was on his fourth cigarette when Detective Pandy knocked on his door. She was with a large man in his 50s who looked like a former linebacker.
“Raymond Winslow! It’s Detective Pandy! Remember me?” she said, knocking again. “I’m with Detective Salvatore. Open up please.”
“Uh, sure,” Ray said, as he unlocked the door.
“Great! Thanks,” Pandy said as she and the other detective walked into Ray’s apartment. “So this is your place? It’s small. But I guess you don’t need a lot of room. Mind if we sit?”
Her energy unnerved Ray.
Detective Salvatore sat on the couch before Ray could respond. Detective Pandy sat next to him.
“Go ahead,” Ray said taking a seat in an office chair near the couch. He didn’t have a lot of furniture.
“Thanks,” Detective Salvatore said.
“Detective Salvatore wants to ask you questions about your friend, Brandon. But before we get to that, I wanted to make sure that you didn’t have anything more to say about Ryan. Remember him? Is there anything else you wanted to share about the last night he was alive?
“I said everything I know about Ryan last time I saw you, Detective,” Ray said, “And I just learned that my best friend is dead. I’d like it if you showed some sort of empathy for that.”
“How’d you learn he was dead?” Detective Salvatore asked.
“I was delivering flowers when my coworker called me and told me to come back to the shop. He told me, the owner’s husband told him.”
“Wow,” Pandy said. “A real game of telephone. Nice to be in the loop.”
“When was the last time you saw your friend Brandon?” Salvatore asked.
“At the shop on the day he died. We worked together.” Saying it out loud shifted something inside Ray. He felt like crying. He wanted to cry until he had no tears left, but he told himself he would have to wait until these cops left.
“Did he say anything about where he was going or what he was doing that night?” Salvatore asked.
“No. We didn’t really talk,” Ray said.
“And do you have any idea where his girlfriend, Ashley has gotten off to?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Pandy said, “So you’re completely clueless why people keep dropping dead around you?”
“Detective Pandy, I never killed anyone. I’m not a killer. I’m a man who just lost someone. And now, you’ve come into my apartment and are trying to make me feel like it’s somehow my fault. But I know it isn’t. So unless you two are going to arrest me, I want you both to leave.”
“You know,” Detective Salvatore said to Ray. “I’m surprised you’re not asking for our help.”
“Your help?”
“If you have nothing to do with the death of your friend Brandon or this Ryan fella, I’d think you might be worried for the safety of your own life. Unless, of course there’s a reason you feel you won’t be targeted as well.”
Detective Pandy and Detective Salvatore both stood up. Pandy reached into a back pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Ray’s eyes widened and he felt a shiver of cold panic somewhere in his spine.
“Just kidding.” Pandy without a hint of humor and put the cuffs away. “Ray, I’m going to tell you a secret.”
“What’s that?”
“The reason I’m not respectful towards you and whatever you’re going through is because I can spot a liar like love at first sight. And you’re a liar. I’ll respect you when you start telling me the truth.”
“Arrest me or get out,” Ray said, doing his best to sound tough.
“I’m not going to arrest you. You’re no killer,” Pandy said, “But you know more than you’re telling us. And while I can understand that, a sensitive guy like Detective Salvatore gets unhappy. And since he’s the primary detective on your friend, Brandon’s murder, we gotta follow what he thinks is the right thing. Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell us?”
“You know everything I know,” Ray said and then to Detective Salvatore, “Please find my friend’s killer. Thank you.”
“Call me when you get tired of lying,” Pandy said, handing him another of her business cards.
Ray smoked another cigarette and looked outside to make sure the police were really gone before calling Augie. Augie had suggested they meet at 1111 for lunch to brainstorm. 1111 opened on Tacoma’s Hilltop the previous summer, but Ray had never been in. Augie claimed they had the best sandwiches on the planet. He doubted it because everyone knew that MSM Deli made the best sandwiches in Tacoma.
Just before walking in, Ray tried Ashley’s phone again. Still no answer. He walked in and found Augie sitting in a booth in the corner. Ray sat across from him.
“How did it go with the cops?” Augie said.
“Fine, I guess. One of them was kind of nuts.”
“Nuts? How so?”
“I don’t know. She straight-up called me a liar and then pretended she was going to arrest me.”
Augie laughed out loud. A bartender with a long beard came over with menus.
“You want to start with something to drink?” The bartender asked.
“Sure,” Augie said. “Let’s have a couple Manny’s.”
“Coming right up.”
“Sounds like she was trying to rattle you,” Augie said as the bartender retreated.
“It worked.”
“It helps that you’re innocent. Of this anyway.”
The bartender came back with their beer and Ray and Augie ordered sandwiches.
“I tried to call Ashley again.” Ray said. “No answer.”
“Do you think Ashley did it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Ashley wouldn’t.”
“Not good enough,” Augie said, taking a drink of his beer before continuing. “Let’s say she did do it. How would she have gone through with it?”
“He was shot so she’d need a gun, but where would she get a gun?”
“Does she know anyone who has a gun besides me?”
“No one I can think of. And she has no motive.”
“Okay, then where is she? And who talked to her last?”
“I did.”
“What did she say?”
“She was looking for Brandon.”
“Okay, let’s start with that. Let’s say she found Brandon. If she didn’t kill him, then she might have run into who did, which means she’s probably dead, too.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“If the killer dumped Brandon, they’d dump Ashley, too.”
“Unless the killer took Ashley.”
The sandwiches arrived each with a bag of potato chips. After a few minutes of eating silently, Ray got his mind back on the matter at hand.
“We don’t have it, Augie.”
“What?”
“We don’t have enough information. Anything we come up with is speculation and that’s not something we can act on.”
“You’re right.”
They kept on like this for a while, but didn’t get anywhere. When they were done with their food and a second round of beers, Augie settled up the bill and said he’d see Ray tomorrow. Outside, Ray watched as Augie waved goodbye before driving off. Ray walked over to his car, unlocked it, and got in. He started to cry. He thought it would only last for a moment, but he couldn’t stop. He cried hard with gasping breaths, like a child. His whole body shuddered.
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Afterthoughts
MSM Deli (MSM stands for Magical Sandwich Makers) is still the best place in town to get sandwiches. Back during my custody battle my lawyer from Seattle only agreed to take my Tacoma case if we had lunch at MSM every day she was in Tacoma.
That said, the Peterson Brothers’ bar The 1111 at 1111 South 11th Avenue in Tacoma’s Hilltop neighborhood is one of a handful of new shops that have arisen during the revitalization (and in some cases gentrification) of the notorious neighborhood.
Everyone deals with grief differently. For whatever reason I’ve never been able to cry immediately after the death of someone and I’ve always hated that feeling like I need to cry but can’t. So I wanted that to be an experience for at least one of our characters. Other times, I’ve been more like Nick where I’m just dealing with what’s happening and waiting to feel about it later.
NEXT: Laura and Ray meet up…and more.