Danni & Kenzie's Story

Wordlessly, she started the car. I could see the disappointment in her face, but I thought things were moving fast and I needed to put a brake on them.

When we got home, I fed Elise and then changed into the sleep shirt. Danni was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper. Moving behind her, I pressed my lips into her neck, and behind her ear. At first she stiffened but after a few moments I felt the tension slip out of her. Soon, a contented sigh escaped from her lips.

"Thank you so much for a wonderful evening. I had a terrific time." Squeezing her firmly, I gave her one more lingering kiss on her neck and then went to my room to go to bed.

The next day was a Saturday. I was playing with Elise, and Danni was watching sports on TV. We were just chilling out when all of a sudden there was a booming crash at the door.

"Open the fucking door Kenzie! I know you're in there! Open the door bitch before I kick it down!" Kurt had found me.

Part II – Danni's Story

"Kenzie! Take Elise. Go to the bathroom and lock the door! CALL 911! DO IT NOW!" I shouted. My heart was pounding and I could feel the adrenaline pushing through my veins.

Kurt was still pounding on the door. I tore into my room, and got my Glock .40 caliber off the dresser. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion, but I was probably back in the hallway with my pistol in less than 10 seconds. Kenzie was just closing the door on the bathroom. Kurt was still screaming obscenities into the door and from the sound he was making, trying to kick the door down.

Standing well away from the door, I started shouting at the top of my lungs.

"WE'VE CALLED THE POLICE. DO NOT COME IN! I HAVE A GUN! IF YOU COME IN I WILL SHOOT! MOVE AWAY FROM THE DOOR. I HAVE A GUN! I'LL SHOOT IF YOU COME IN. WE'VE CALLED THE POLICE."

When he finally kicked down in the door, he started advancing on me. In his right hand, he had a baseball bat. I could see in his eyes that he was whacked out. I've seen enough people on my runs to know when someone's totally out of control and he was the poster boy. Let's face it, anyone that would advance on someone holding a .40 Glock on them is just plain nuts.

I shouted a final warning, but he just kept smiling and walking towards me slowly, waving the bat like a baton. Taking a deep breath, I shot him. BOOM! SHIT! I'd never fired the Glock without ear plugs in, and in the small apartment, the sound wave and concussion rattled me to the core. BOOM! BOOM! I fired twice more.

When I fired the first shot, time seemed all of a sudden to compress. Where in the seconds before, everything had seemed to be nightmarishly slow, from the instant I pulled the trigger for the first time, to the final shot, everything seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. One second he was advancing toward me with the bat, and then in the next second, he was face down on the floor.

Slowly, I walked up to him and kicked the bat away. When there wasn't any sort of motion, I rolled him over. The front of his shirt was a mass of blood, and I could see three neatly spaced holes in the center of his chest. He was dead.

Calmly, I set the gun on the counter. Going into Kenzie's room, I took the .380 out of her purse and put it in a drawer.

"KENZIE! IT'S OVER. COME OUT."

Slowly, she peeked around the door.

"Is he?"

"He's dead. Come on. We have to get outside. Come with me."

Slowly, I led her out of the apartment and onto the step. Motioning towards the concrete, I had her sit down. In the distance, I could hear sirens approaching.

"Are you still on the phone with 911?"

Quickly, she nodded.

"Good. Just stay on the phone with them. Tell them we're sitting outside on the steps and we're not armed."

Nodding again, she relayed the information to the 911 operator.

Without warning, I started shaking. The adrenaline rush was over, leaving me feeling weak and strung out. A torrent of feelings rushed over me. I was proud that I'd maintained control and eliminated the threat. At the same time, I was worried about the consequences. I could just imagine the headlines screaming "LESBIAN LOVE TRIANGLE SHOOTOUT!" That wasn't going to be a real career booster. I was also worried about Kenzie. I've seen women attack cops for arresting the man that beat them up. I'd just killed her husband and even a level-headed girl like Kenzie could come unglued from seeing a corpse. From the one-sided conversation I heard, it sounded like the 911 operator was doing a good job of keeping her occupied until the police showed up.

Time seemed to have finally resumed its normal flow and within a couple of minutes the uniforms arrived. Waving weakly, I said hi to the guys. Throwing a thumb over my shoulder, I pointed to the interior of the apartment. "He's in there." Three of the uniforms went into the apartment, and one stayed out on the steps with Kenzie and me.

In a minute, two of them came back out. One reached for the microphone on his shoulder.

"Dispatch, notify homicide we've got a possible 187."

Looking up, I saw who it was. Bill Riley. I'd met Bill on a few runs. He was a stand-up guy, with a wife and a family.

"Can you tell me what happened here?" Bill asked.

"I'm sorry he was killed. I'd like to consult with an attorney before making a statement."

I was following the drill. The cop who'd taught my concealed carry pistol class had made it plain. "Cops want to solve crimes. They're not your friends. If you're involved in a shooting, tell them you're sorry the person was shot, ask for a lawyer, AND THEN SHUT UP!"

Sergeant Riley, gave me a pained smile, and then asked me to stand up. Once I was up, he motioned for me to face away, and then cuffed and searched me.

"Danni Smith, you are under arrest for suspicion of murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense. Do you understand these rights?"

Bleakly, I nodded my head yes.

Looking back at Kenzie, I could see the stunned look of disbelief on her face.

"What are you doing? He was coming to kill me! Why are you arresting her?" she sobbed.

"Kenzie, Kenzie! It's going to be OK. Just tell them what happened. It's going to be OK. I'll be back tomorrow probably. Call my mom. Stay with her until I get back."

Leading me back to the trunk of his car, he opened a box and pulled out a gunshot residue test kit and swabbed my cuffed hands. Then, placing me in the back of his car he took the kit and left it with the other officers. As he drove me down to the station, he looked me over. "Do you have an attorney Smith?" Mutely, I shook my head. "Get Dennis DiSilvio. His dad was a cop, and he takes cop cases for free. He'll probably take yours for free too, or give you a good discount. You're not going to need much. No way this is going to trial."

"Thanks Bill," I murmured.

We rode the rest of the way downtown in silence. Sergeant Riley took me into the interrogation room in homicide and uncuffed me. "You want anything? Coffee? Water? Something to eat?" he asked.

"Water, and maybe something to eat."

In a few minutes, he was back with a bottle of water and some birthday cake. "Walter Morris' birthday," he grinned. Leave some of the frosting so Walter can see you ate his cake during the interview." While I ate the cake, Bill Reilly left me locked in the room, and called Dennis DiSilvio. An hour later, DiSilvio walked into the room. The attorney was a dapper, well tanned man about 50 years old. He had that groomed look that said money. His after shave was subtle, but expensive smelling; He was wearing a golf-shirt, funny little beanie hat and a golf glove.

"Well, Annie Oakley, I understand you put three in the X-ring this morning. Want to tell me about it?" he said calmly. Quickly, I told him about Kenzie showing up on my doorstep with her daughter. I told him about the allegations of abuse that she had made. Then, I walked him through the shooting step by step. Under his gentle probing, I remembered the details. He asked me several specific questions about the warnings that I gave. Finally, he looked me over and said, "That's excellent Ms. Smith. Now, I need to know if you're involved in a romantic relationship with the victim's wife."

Glumly, I nodded.

"Have you ever had any contact with the deceased?"

"No."

"Did you do anything in any way to antagonize the deceased or lure him into your apartment?" he continued.

"No, he just showed up and started kicking the door down. He was whacked. I bet when they do an autopsy, they're going to find he was either drunk or on coke," I said.

"Did the deceased's wife have any contact with him or in any way lure him into the situation?"

"Not that I know of. I don't think she had any direct contact with him after she left him."

"OK, let's get Morris in here. There's nothing here to worry about. Under this state's deadly force law, you can use deadly force to defend yourself and others from intruders if there's a threat of violence. Morris is probably going to push a little harder because of your relationship with the deceased's wife, but there's nothing there. So, what I want you to do is stay calm. Don't let Morris rattle you, and just tell him what you've told me."

Standing up, he knocked on the door, and the officer standing outside let him out. In a few minutes, he returned with the homicide detective, Walter Morris. I'd never formally met him, but I'd seen him at a few crime scenes. He'd always struck me as an officious little prick.

"OK," he began, "let's start with the shooting. Walk me through it."

I recounted the story again while he took notes. Like DiSilvio, he focused on the warnings.

"Well, that seems clear enough. Now, I'd like to tell me about how the victim's wife came to be staying with you." Right away, I noticed his body language. He moved slightly forward on his chair, and looked up from his notes. He was intently watching my face, searching for any hints of a lie.

Again, I led him through her appearance on my doorstep and told him what I knew of her relationship with her husband and her pending divorce. As predicted, Morris zeroed in on the relationship between Kenzie and me. It wasn't real comfortable. I've never tried to hide my sexuality from my co-workers, but given the circumstances I think anyone would have been sort of freaked. After about an hour of prodding and poking, he looked at me and said: "What would you say if I told you that your girlfriend had confessed to luring her husband so that you would kill him?"

DiSilvio sat up angrily. "This interview is over!" he thundered.

"No, I'll answer that", I replied. I could feel the fury building in me. "What I would say is that I know that police are allowed to lie to suspects in an interrogation and that's what you're doing now! NOW, I think this interview is over!"

Morris looked embarrassed. "I have something I'd like you to hear," he said quietly. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a recorder and set it on the table.

Through the tinny little speaker I heard the 911 call Kenzie made. I heard her hysterically telling the operator that her husband was coming to kill her. I heard the booming crunch of Kurt's foot against the door, and I heard my loud voice shouting warnings over and over. Then, I heard the thundering crash of the door breaking in, my final warning, and the three shots. Reaching over, he turned off the recorder.

"Given the information available to me from the crime scene investigation, the other witness statements, the 911 recordings, and your statements I believe your shooting of the deceased was a justifiable homicide. The District Attorney of course will be making the final decision. We'll be keeping the pistol you used for a couple of days to complete ballistics tests but it will be returned to you as quickly as possible. Do you have any questions?" he concluded

"No, but you might want to talk to the police in Seattle." I explained about Kenzie's description of Kurt's behavior. I repeated what she had told me about how his demeanor became more and more strained and then was inexplicably relieved. I then told him about the driver's licenses she had found along with jewelry in the safe and told him my trophy theory. "You might want to check with Seattle and see if there are any unsolved rapes or rape/homicides. I'm guessing Kenzie would be willing to grant the police consent to search the apartment for evidence."

"Thanks for the information," he said skeptically. "I'll contact Seattle and let them know of your suspicions."

When Detective Morris left, DiSilvio stood up. "I won't be billing you for this," he said.

"Thanks. I appreciate that." I managed a weak smile. "So, it's over?"

"Almost," he smiled. "You handled the situation beautifully, and you kept your cool during interrogation. You also picked up on the husband's behavior and drew some pretty solid conclusions from it. Good job! If you show any hint of post traumatic stress disorder I want you to get a psych consult from the city. Riley tells me you're going to be a cop. I think you're going to make a damn fine one and I don't want this to screw that up for you. OK?"

"Thanks again," I said blushing. Slowly I made my way out of homicide, and down to the street. I phoned my mother, gave her an update on things and asked for a ride. When mom showed up, she had Kenzie and Elise in the van with her. I could see the concern and worry in Kenzie's face as she ran up to me.

"It's OK. Let's get in the car and I'll tell you all about it." On the ride back to mom's I told them about the interrogation and also about my suspicions of Kurt. Kenzie was dumbfounded.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "Now I know why you freaked out about him. Holy crap!"

"I've got some more bad news for you babe. You're Kurt's next of kin. Once the autopsy is completed, you're going to have to make the funeral arrangements. Once you get a death certificate you need to file for Social Security death benefit for Elise. You're also going to have to go back to Seattle and settle his estate. Make the final payments for any bills, handle any vehicles, all that stuff."

When we got to my mother's, I phoned the management company for the apartment to get the door fixed. Told them the carpet was probably a loss. Kenzie phoned a funeral home and got things lined up. We spent the rest of the day, listlessly hanging around my mom's and not saying much.

On Tuesday, the coroner released Kurt's body, and on Wednesday Kenzie and Elise flew back to Seattle with his cremated remains. On Friday, Detective Morris showed up at the station while I was working.

"I just got off the phone with Seattle homicide. They searched Kurt's condo and found the licenses Kenzie told you about. They belonged to rape/homicide victims killed over the last 12 months in Seattle and the surrounding area. They're running his DNA now to compare it to evidence found at two of the scenes. Seattle was already looking at him. Turns out they got an anonymous tip a month or so ago. Was that you?"

I nodded yes.

"I thought so. Also, the district attorney has formally decided that no charges are going to be brought against you, so it's officially over," he said.

"That's good," I said guardedly.

"Listen, I know I was rough on you during the interview. It's my job, and there's nothing personal. Sergeant Riley has told me you're going to apply for the force soon. I want you to know that I think you're going to make a good cop and I would be personally pleased to see you join the force. You handled the shooting superbly and your intuition about Kurt's other crimes was spot on. I'm absolutely convinced that if you hadn't been present he would have beaten your friend and her baby to death. You're probably going to have some hard times over this but I want you to hang on to that fact. OK?" Smiling he reached out and shook my hand, and then turned and left.

Damn. That wasn't so bad. No charges. No "LESBIAN LOVE TRIANGLE SHOOTING!" headlines. Unfortunately, no Kenzie either. I managed to keep an upbeat attitude for the rest of the day; until I got home anyhow.

Things weren't the same with Kenzie and Elise gone. I'd grown accustomed to their presence and the absence was like a hole in my heart.

I missed the conversation, and watching the tender way she had cared for her daughter. I also missed the way she'd listen to me talk about my day. I hadn't realized how much her support had built me up. I could see now that she genuinely admired me and that admiration was changing me. In the month since she'd been back, my usual bitchy self had taken a break, and I'd been smiling a lot more. I was treating patients like people again, and not like injuries.

I hoped her admiration for me would be enough to bring her back but I didn't think so. I had eliminated the threat in Seattle so it was safe now. Kenzie had left me once already and that had been terrible for me. In our senior year, I thought we were starting to click when she moved away. Maybe I had mis-read things, or maybe I had been trying to push things along too fast. Damn it! Just when things were starting to go well, I had to go and shoot her husband! Shit!

I didn't tell Kenzie but the reason I totally crushed on Jan was because of the way she reminded me of her. I realized I hadn't been fair to Jan. The real problem with us had been that I was still into Kenzie and I hadn't been into Jan. I'd have to find Jan some day and apologize. I was mid-way through my third beer, soaking in my own little pity party when the phone rang. Probably my mother I thought. What the hell, say hello to mommy.

"Hello?"

"Hi sweetie it's me," she gushed. Man, her voice had become a switch for me. A simple hello and I was lit up and buzzing.

"Hey Kenzie, how's it going?"

"Well, things are kind of a mess here. The Seattle cops were here, and searched the place. I got the feeling they were trying to be nice, but everything is strewn around. They found the licenses I told you about. Oh, Danni, it's so awful. He killed those four women. I feel so bad for their families."

There wasn't a lot I could say. Pointing out he wouldn't be doing it again was probably a bad idea, so I tried to make affirming noises. I should take a class. Butch 101: How to be Supportive and Affirming.

"Anyhow, Kurt's parents came by today. They took his remains to put in the family crypt. They were actually very nice, and they loved Elise," she continued. "I told them that they could come and visit us any time they wanted."

"You're coming back?" I asked.

"Of course I'm coming back. That's where you are silly! Unless you want to move here?"

"No, no, here is fine," I said thickly.

"I'm coming back because I love you and I want to be with you. You're just the coolest person I know. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You'd see someone wonderful!"

"Well, thanks. I – I don't know what to say," I mumbled.

"You're supposed to tell me that you love me too," she giggled.

"Oh baby, I love you. I've missed you so much since you've been gone. I thought I'd lose you again," I moaned.

"I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me now," she whispered.

During the rest of the call, she talked about the things she had to do before returning and told me that she would be back in two weeks.

"And I'll call every day. If it's OK," she trailed off.

"Of course it's OK. I love talking to you."

The next two weeks were a dream. Buoyed by the knowledge she was coming back, and the daily calls, they just flew by. The guys at the station started making jokes about dykes in love, but I just smiled and ignored them.