BULLETS (6 page)

“You do, however, answer to me, deputy. Answer the question, was he beaten while in custody?” Camilla asked.

Brower took a breath, opened his mouth to speak but before the words even came out, his left eyebrow jumped up.

“Hah! See, didn’t even need to say a damn thing and there it is. Bingo!” Slick grinned at Camilla, who only glared at the deputy, now supremely pissed.

“You have an issue with your treatment in custody, take it up with the sheriff. I don’t answer to you or anyone,” Brower said. “End of story.”

“Fine. Give me my phone and I’ll go.”

Brower caught Moore staring at his forehead and pushed him aside.

“Get back to work, Moore, stop fucking around. Listen, I don’t know what happened to your phone, this is all you had on you when you were brought in.”

The eyebrow bounced up and down and it was next to impossible for everyone not to notice. Even Melvin enjoyed the show. Camilla stepped forward.

“Where is it?” she asked.

“If it’s not checked in then it’s not here. Everything else is here, including the roll of cash. Why would I take a phone? He didn’t have one on him when I processed him.”

“Hah, now you’re getting it, you have to parse hairs to get by,” Slick said. “I didn’t have the phone on me when I was processed because Rawlings took it away before I was allegedly arrested. Good work, you’re figuring the game out. But that doesn’t mean you don’t know where my phone is. You do.”

“Your phone is not here. That’s all I can tell you.”

“Sure it is. You know it’s a smart phone, right Brower? Look at me,” Slick leaned on the counter. “It’s got a built-in GPS chip. Phone doesn’t even need to be on for me to track it. It’s how Thumper found me. All I have to do is step outside, use my lawyer’s cell to trace it and find out EXACTLY where my phone is. I could do that, you know. I could stand out there with your ADA and PROVE to her, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that you’re a lying scumbag, I could.”

Brower swallowed, but held his gaze steady. Slick grabbed the rest of his items.

“But I’m not going to do that,” Slick said. “I’m not. Keep the phone, I don’t need it. And I want you to think about that right up until my trial. Let’s go, Melvin.”

Slick walked out, lawyer in tow.

“H
old on,” Camilla
said as she caught up with them outside the station. Slick and Melvin waited for her on the steps. Slick blinked in the sun.

“Ms. Leon, we’ve answered all your questions, and my client—” Melvin began.

“Cool your jets, counselor, this is off the record.”

“It’s okay, Melvin, I got this. What do you want to know, counselor?”

“If you can prove they’re lying about taking your phone, Mr. Elder, then why don’t you? Why let them keep it?”

“Call me Jon.”

“Mr. Elder—”

“Jon.”

“Okay, Jon. Can you really GPS your phone and prove it’s inside?”

“Absolutely.”

“So do it. Right here, right now. Do it and let me go in and wipe that big shit-eating grin off of Brower’s face.”

“First of all, that phone is at this moment probably fast on its way out the back door of the station and into an incinerator. But really, that’s not the question you should really be asking. The question you should be asking is the same one Brower asked. Why would he take the phone?”

She thought about that. Nodded.

“You recorded your arrest. That’s why you wanted them to take the stand and testify under oath. You have it recorded. And when they heard you say you wanted them to perjure themselves in interrogation, they figured it out and yanked the phone.”

Big Slick just smiled at her, but said nothing more.

“Or maybe that’s only what you want them to think. You could be playing them, too. And me. If you had it recorded, why let them keep it then? If it’s destroyed then there’s no evidence against them, it’s still your word against theirs. Why?”

“Why indeed?”

“Are you playing me?”

“No more than anyone plays anybody else.”

“Listen, no one has time for these games. This is taxpayer money, time and expense that could be used elsewhere—”

“Then get a better sheriff and department. I didn’t ask to be arrested.”

“He’s an elected official. I’m not and therefore have a responsibility to my office and the people who depend on it for fairness. I don’t like being played like this.”

“Come on. You played me, to a certain extent, offering to drop the charges down to battery then to obstruction. That’s not playing? You know who these guys are, what they do. That makes you part of it.”

“Don’t you fucking dare lump me in with them!”

“Why shouldn’t I? You’re telling me you’ve never sent someone to jail who you knew was innocent on the word of those men in the station? You’re telling me that you’ve never seen people falsely arrested, falsely charged and sent to jail in the name of law and order?”

Camilla didn’t speak at first, didn’t trust herself not to scream, but she was pissed. She took a deep breath, let it out, and then let him have it in measured tones that gained momentum until her words flamed at the end.

“You know what they call me, here and in my office? Dubya Dee, which is short for Window Dressing. To my face. My boss doesn’t do anything, he’s a basically a decent man but to him I’m only a quota fulfillment, so he can point to me and say, ‘Hey, I love brown people, I even have a Hispanic on staff.’ I know he’s full of shit, show me a politician who isn’t and I’ll sign up for his or her staff immediately. I don’t have that option, I only have George and his good old boy network here in Bendijo.

“They don’t let me near the questionable criminal cases because they know I won’t send an innocent person to jail, they know I won’t put up with cops perjuring themselves on the stand, they know I care about my professional ethics, so the answer is, no, I’ve never sent anyone to jail who I didn’t, on some level, believe deserved it. So I get the bullshit cases, close them and they put up with me because I take good picture. I put up with it because I was born here, it’s my home and I love it and the old man won’t live forever and when he goes, I’ll be in a place to actually do something about things.”

She took a break and moved her hair out of her eyes. Slick really dug that motion of hers, so natural and yet so real and beautiful.

“I don’t play, I never have. If I find evidence of any officer of this town breaking the law, I’ll do something. They know that. That’s why they don’t like me, because I’m a huge pain in the ass and I refuse to fucking play! Have I made that perfectly clear for you? So now that I’ve established my bona fides, what about you? Why did you let them keep your phone?”

Slick gloried in the tantrum she just so elegantly threw at him. It was clean and clear and passionate. He liked this lawyer, and he rarely liked any lawyer, even his own. This one, though, she was a piece of work. He nodded.

“Okay. I hear you. I believe you. So let me ask you this. What are they afraid of?”

“Evidence. That you have recorded evidence that proves your innocence and their malfeasance. That’s why they kept your phone, right?”

“Right. Now, what are they afraid of?”

“I don’t know.”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly? What does that mean?”

“It means they thought they had it figured out, had me figured out, now they don’t have it figured out. Maybe I’m playing them, and you, or maybe I’m not. They don’t know. And fear of the unknown, it’s a real bitch, grinds at a person’s guts. Those boys, inside? They’re killing themselves right now, trying to figure out what I have over them. It’s gonna make for some sleepless nights. It’s gonna be fun.”

“So you are playing them?”

“Of course. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have bullets in the hole.”

“Bullets?”

“Bullets, it’s a poker term, stands for pocket aces. In the hole, that means cards they can’t see. Bullets in the hole, a pair of aces, in the pocket where they can’t be seen.”

“You’re holding aces then.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It wouldn’t be in my best interest to state one way or the other. They’ll have to go to court to see the cards in my hand and, personally, I’m looking forward to it. You may not like to play, but you’re at a gaming table whether you like it or not and if you won’t play, then I’m gonna have to.”

She considered that, took a deep breath and let it out.

“I believe that you’ve been wronged, and if I do come into evidence of such, you won’t find a bigger champion. However, let me warn you that if, in the course of whatever ‘game’ you think you’re playing, if you break any law, I’ll come down on you as hard as I’d come down on them.”

“I’d expect no less. Have a good day, Ms. Leon.”

Slick and Melvin left her there and went on their way.

“D
on’t say it,”
Slick said to Thumper, before he could go off, “I get it, I’m pissed off too, but all I want to do is eat some really good food and find my bliss first.”

Slick sat down at the table, grabbing a menu with one hand, holding his other out to the trooper. “Hi, I’m Jon but everyone calls me Big Slick.”

“Joe Stormcloud, everyone calls me Navajo Joe. Nice to meet you.”

“Damn those motherfuckers…” Thumper began, furious. Slick moved gingerly, like every muscle hurt, which it did.

“Dude, seriously, it’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but I’m fucking starving and all I want to think about is eating. Besides, I could hear you tearing those cops a new asshole from the holding cell, so I already saw that show.”

“And a fine show it was,” Navajo Joe said. “Where’s your lawyer?”

“He went to meet up with his other clients, so you guys will have to give me a ride to a hotel. And Thumper, may I compliment you on a fine choice of restaurant? You’ve surprised me.”

“Wasn’t me that chose this place, it was that lady lawyer, she recommended it,” Thumper said. “Wait, what other clients? You should be his only focus—”

“He’s doing what I asked, it’s complicated, I’ll explain later.”

The waiter came and Slick ordered a lot of food, along with a pot of herbal tea. Thumper tapped on the table, full of energy and anger; Slick recognized it.

“What’s this shit about a hotel?” Thumper asked. “Ain’t you headed back home with us? You can come back for the trial, or not at all, don’t matter, the bond ain’t no problem either way.”

“I’m sticking around for a while, bro.”

“What? What for?”

Slick glanced at Navajo Joe, appraising him. The trooper took it, nodded.

“Go ahead, ask me whatever you want,” he said.

“How do you know Thumper?” Slick asked.

“We go back a ways, me and him. I owed him a favor from back in the day, so when you didn’t turn up, he called me to help track you down. When I found out where you’d been arrested, I knew what must have happened and figured it was better to come down in person, otherwise both your asses would be in jail right now. Everyone in Arizona law enforcement knows about Bendijo.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

“Sheriff Ted’s got a reputation, one he’s had for awhile, which is that if you ain’t white, you ain’t all right. He doesn’t say it that baldly, course, but he ain’t that far from it, either. It’s the same protecting-our-borders shit we’ve heard since the dawn of time.

“He’s making political hay off of demonizing brown people, but enough folks respond that there ain’t much we can do about it. The past year or so he’s been getting a lot of attention for it in the national media and I think he figures he can ride this all the way to either the governor’s office or a reality show, one or the other, and make some real money. Hear tell he’s even got a book deal.”

Navajo Joe took a sip of water and shrugged.

“It’s all a scam, of course, but a pretty good one. Make folks afraid, tell them what they’re afraid of, whether it’s true or not, and make them believe that you’re the only one who can keep them safe. It’s a scam he’s played ever since first running for sheriff and folks bought it. Too many white people are gullible like that, sorry Thumper.”

“Hey man, I’m with you… White folks be too crazy, my extended family, you don’t even wanna know, bunch of freaks on a stick.”

“So let’s say some of the local American patriots were to find themselves in harm’s way, it wouldn’t matter to you how said harm came to be?” Slick asked Navajo Joe.

“I’m always amused when I hear white people go on about how they’re the one hundred percent natural born Americans, myself,” Navajo Joe said. “But it’s tricky. On an official level, I’ve pledged to serve and protect everyone, regardless of race or creed or place of birth. That’s how I see it. But the truth is, in some situations I’m less inspired than others, on a personal level. That’s the most I can say.”

“I can understand that.”

Food came and Slick dug in. Thumper made a face at it.

“Dude, how can you eat that? Looks like paste.”

“Delicious, my man. You want some?”

“Get it away, stop it, you’re gonna make me gag. It looks like hurl on a plate.”

“So you’re planning to stay in town for a while?” Navajo Joe asked.

Slick nodded, kept eating.

“You don’t mind me asking, why?”

“Fellow sitting next to me at the diner, minding his own business, got his skull caved in by Sheriff Ted. He’s in a coma now.”

“Yep. Murder suspect, I’m told. Killed Roger Carlson, they say.”

“They also said I was a drug dealer. Thing is, I didn’t know this guy, didn’t talk to him, but I sat next to him for at least a half hour. And I’m telling you, there’s probably a lot I don’t know about the guy, but the one thing I do know is this—he’s no killer. And they knew it, too. They knew it, came in and dented his head in anyway and dragged him out and arrested anyone else who looked at them cross-eyed for it. And well…”

Slick took a bite, swallowed. Sipped some tea and stared at Navajo Joe.

“That ain’t right.”

The trooper leaned back in his chair, scratched his head.

“Okay, well. I make it my business not to tell folks what to do with their lives, everyone’s got their own path to follow. That doesn’t stop me from offering a word of advice, if you’ve a mind to hear it.”