Boosted Pt. 07

SEVENTEEN

Sean walked into the station, the glow from last night still with him. Kissing Maggie goodbye and telling her he loved her had been so easy and natural this morning he'd smiled all the way to work. Losing Marmalade tempered his joy somewhat, but he felt the cat had given him one last gift with his passing, and he'd always remember him for that. He'd miss the old guy, but he still had all the good memories of his faithful companion.

"Morning, Terri," he said as he entered the station, pausing at the door to the office area for her to buzz him in.

"How are you doing his morning?" she asked as the door burred.

He knew she was asking about his cat. The rest, that was for him alone. He paused in her doorway. "Pretty good. It was tough yesterday afternoon and evening, but I'm better today. He's in a better place. I had a chance to tell him goodbye, and I was there until the end. He was so weak." Talking about it was bringing back the pain. "Anyway, so long as I stay busy and don't think about it too much, I'm doing okay."

She nodded. "It gets easier. Time heals all wounds... and all that."

He bobbed his head in agreement. That, and having the love of a good woman. "Yeah, I know."

He walked to his office, placed his laptop on his desk, and started it booting while he filled his coffee mug. By the time he returned to his desk the computer was ready to work. He logged in and checked for a stolen Porsche. Still nothing. He drummed his fingers on his desk in frustration. He'd been so sure BIGS was up to something, but now that confidence was wavering.

With nothing happening on BIGS, he turned his attention to another recent crime, the theft of his safe. He started by looking through recent arrest records. He'd been able to get just enough glimpses of the men's faces that he knew they were black, and knew their general build, but nothing else. He narrowed his search by what he knew and then spent an hour looking at photos, hoping if he saw the man's face it would suddenly click with the gesture, but when the last photo appeared on the screen, he had nothing more than he did when he started. It galled him, but if he were honest with himself, the chance of catching any of the men that had robbed him was small. A robbery, when done properly, rarely resulted in the culprit being caught.

He was thinking if there was anything else he could do, either on BIGS or his safe, when his phone rang. He brought the handset to his ear. "Chief McGhee."

"Sean, it's Hud. I just heard. Is it true you were robbed?"

Sean smiled grimly at Hud's shocked tone. "Yes, sir, unfortunately I was."

"I'm really sorry to hear that. Any clues?"

"I got it all on video, but I'm not sure it's going to do me any good."

"Why's that?"

"They all wore hoods. But we're looking for them."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No, sir. This is purely a police matter. We're motivated to catch these guys."

Hud chuckled. "I imagine you are."

"The department feels like whoever did this is daring us to catch them. They're anxious to prove to them that was a mistake. Beyond that, if we catch them, we can make an example of them and discourage anyone else from getting bright ideas. People are going to be reluctant to open a new business unless they know it's safe."

"I get that. Thank you. I won't keep you, but if you need anything, anything at all, you call me, okay?"

"I will, mayor."

Sean returned the handset to the cradle with a slight smile. He and Rudy Klinger, the mayor of Brunswick, had gotten off to a rocky start. Things were better between them now, but he and Hud had hit it off from the beginning. He'd proved his support when one of his officers had shot a citizen not long after they'd taken over law enforcement of Tilley. Thankfully the man had lived, but the town wanted to lynch his entire department. He'd shown the dash-cam video of the incident to Hud and the Tilley city council, and all of them had immediately come down firmly in support of his officer and his department. That show of support had changed a lot of attitudes in the department and his men had been busting their asses to make Tilley safe again. If they could find even the smallest of cracks in his theft, he had little doubt they would catch the men responsible.

Later that morning, he spent an hour interviewing the next candidate for Paul's position. The man was polite and well spoken, but he seemed humorless and rigid, and he didn't impress Sean as Machala had, especially with his people skills.

After escorting the man out of his office, Sean paused, thinking. "I'm stepping out for a few minutes. I'll be back after lunch."

"I'll be here," Terri replied from behind the window.

Sean walked out of the station just as the man backed his older, but very clean, Camaro out of the parking spot. No smile, no acknowledgement, no nothing. Sean nodded to himself. Probably not the type of officer he was looking for. He walked around to the end of the building and settled into his car. He didn't even know what he was looking for as he pulled out of the station's parking lot, but he had both his theft and BIGS to solve, and both cases seemed to be going nowhere. He was aimlessly driving around Tilley, waiting for inspiration to strike, before he found himself, almost unconsciously, driving to BIGS. He was itching to see if the Panamera was in the shop, but he couldn't figure out how to wrangle another visit to the back. He pulled into BIGS' parking lot, stopped, stepped out of his car, and walked up to the service desk. He still didn't know what he was going to say, or do, but he was drawn to the place.

"Sean, right?" CJ asked as he entered the building.

He smiled. "That's right. I'm impressed."

"You were our first customer in the new building, and you drive that delicious XKE. You're easy to remember. What can I do for you?"

"I was out, saw your sign, and thought I'd stop in." An idea came to him, a stall to create time for something, anything, to happen. "I have a quick question. Do you work on modern cars? My girlfriend has a 2013 Civic. Do you do oil changes, stuff like that, on those types of cars?"

CJ grinned. "They're not really our thing, but if my guys can't change the oil in a Civic, I don't think you'd want them touching your Jag. Yeah, we can do it. Want to set up an appointment?"

"Thanks, but no. It's not due yet, but like I said, I saw your sign and wondered."

"No problem then. Just let us know a day or two before you want to bring it in."

While CJ was talking, one of the service techs stepped in from the back, carrying a sheet of paper. Before the door shut, Sean caught only the briefest of glimpses, but it appeared a Panamera was on the lift with a tech underneath working on it.

"Yes, okay, I'll do that," Sean replied when CJ stopped speaking. He'd quit listening when he'd seen the Porsche.

"Anything else we can do for you?"

"No, that's it. How's business?"

"It was slow for a week or so, but it's picking up. People are starting to realize we've moved. I think most of them will follow us. We have a pretty good reputation, and with more room to work, we're a little faster than we were before."

"Oh, why's that?" he asked, stalling and fishing for any information he could get.

The tech dropped the paper into a basket on the corner of the desk and returned to the shop. Sean was ready and confirmed there was a grey Panamera on the lift while the door was open.

"Because the tech can work on another car while waiting on parts or whatever, without having to shove the first car out of the way. We should have done this years ago."

He nodded. "That's good to hear. Any trouble at night?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"You haven't heard? Someone broke into my place a couple of nights ago and stole my safe."

"Really?" CJ asked, her voice full of surprise. "Doesn't seem very smart robbing a police officer."

He didn't correct her, allowing her to think he was a regular patrol officer. It might not make any difference, but he was playing this close to his chest. "I'm confident we'll catch them eventually. Anyway, good talking to you CJ," he said, lightly slapping the service desk in parting. "I'll give you a call when Maggie's Civic needs to be serviced."

"We'll be here."

He walked out of BIGS and settled into his car, wondering what having the Panamera up on the lift suggested. Was the car being serviced or repaired? If it was, he couldn't figure out how that fit into his theory that something illegal was happening at BIGS in the middle of the night. He started his car and backed away from the building. Maybe he was wrong about BIGS and nothing nefarious was going on there after all. He mulled it over as he pulled out onto the road. He could ask, and maybe get a perfectly logical explanation, but how would he explain staking them out? That wouldn't be good for community relations. He decided to do nothing for the moment. He'd let his officers continue to keep an eye on the place. There was no harm in making sure BIGS wasn't robbed like his place had been. His phone started ringing. It'd stopped before he could find a place to pull off the road to answer it. Squirming in the seat, he fished the device from his pocket.

It was Ray, and he pressed the button to return the call. "Sean, Ray, with Nailed It Renovations. I have your door. I'd like to start installing it today, if I can."

"That'll be great. How long will it take?"

"A few days. I'll get the door installed today. I'll trim it out tomorrow and stain it. Then it'll need several coats of polyurethane. I'll work on the other items at the same time. Normally I'd stain and seal the door first, but I know you want the broken door replaced, so I'll go ahead and install and then stain it. You should be good to go by Monday, depending on how bad the rest of the damage is."

"That sounds great, but I'll be able to lock the door and use the alarm tonight?"

"Unless I run into something unexpected, that should be no problem."

"Okay, great. What's the next step?"

"I need you to meet me at the pub and open the door for me."

"Sure. When?"

"Thirty minutes?"

"I'll be waiting."

"See you there," Ray said before he hung up.

Since he had thirty minutes to kill, Sean decided he'd cruise around Tilley a little more. The chances of him seeing his safe sitting in the open was only slightly above zero, but he had nothing better to do while waiting on Ray to arrive. As expected, he saw nothing as he slowly rambled the streets. No safe, no sparks flying from a garage as sweaty men tried to cut it open, and no explosions as they tried to blow the door. It was the usual sleepy, dilapidated, Tilley.

It was about ten minutes before Ray was scheduled to arrive when Sean started working his way toward downtown. He didn't hurry. Tilley was so small he had plenty of time. He made a right onto Woodley. There was a group of four men standing on the sidewalk by a pair of Harley-Davidsons about half-way down the block, smoking cigarettes, laughing, and talking. The answer hit him like a thunderbolt. He'd seen the hand gesture of the man in the video when he was looking for an arsonist. While in Tilley, he'd stopped by a group of men much like this one to ask questions, and one of the men had made the same loose wrist, pointer and pinky finger extended, gesture at him. He couldn't recall the man's face because at the time he was barking up the wrong tree on the investigation, but he was positive that's where he'd seen the man before. He drove past the men, tingling with excitement. He had to deal with Ray, but then he was going back to the station and look at the video again, just to be sure. He arrived at Loch and Castle, and since Ray wasn't there yet, he pulled the mic from the holder and keyed it.

"Dispatch, Sean. Is Pickerling or Jacoby on duty now?"

"Pickerling is," Terri's voice replied.

"Right here, Sean," Tyrell's voice came over the radio. "Need something?"

"Have you looked at the video of me getting robbed?"

"I hear it's pretty funny, but I haven't taken the time. Why?"

"I need you to look at the video for me. I have something else I need to do first, but can you meet me back at the station in about an hour?"

"Sure."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

He placed the mic in the holder and smiled, but it was the smile of a cat staring at a mouse. "I'm coming for you, you son-of-a-bitch."

Sean stepped out of his car and had just finished unlocking the padlock when Ray's Chevy rumbled to a stop. Ray Brooks stepped out of his truck and approached, a broad smile on his face. Tall and tanned, with close cut dark hair and a pair of sunglasses perpetually perched on the brim of his cap, no matter what was going on, Ray always seemed to have a smile on his face.

"Sean, good to see you again," Ray said while extending his hand.

"Good to see you too. I didn't expect to need you again so quickly," Sean replied, accepting the offered hand.

"Let's see what we've got," Ray said as they started toward the door. "Damn," he drawled, drawing the word out and making it sound like 'day-um'. Sean smiled. He loved listening to the natives' accent, especially when it was a woman speaking. "They did a real number on the door."

"Yeah. Broke in twice. The first time they wrecked the door, but the second time..." He opened the door and led Ray inside. "As you can see, they really messed up the floors and walls," he said, pointing at the gouges and scrapes on the floor. "The office is the worst."

They entered the office and Sean stepped aside. "They stole that heavy ass safe?" Ray asked, his surprise clear in his voice.

"Yep."

"They really tore shit up, didn't they?"

Sean snickered. "Yeah. They also forced the office and supply room doors. It might be my imagination, but I don't think they're latching right." He paused as Ray tried the office door.

"Yeah. I think they sprung the jamb. That should be easy to fix." He glanced around the rest of the room and slowly shook his head, his face hard. "The rest of this, though."

Sean didn't allow himself to smile. It was clear Ray was hacked that someone had wrecked all his hard work. "What do you think?"

"How good do you want the repairs?"

"What do you mean?"

Ray shrugged. "Well, obviously I'm going to have to replace some of the boards on the wall, and maybe a couple in the floor, but a lot of the deep gouges can probably be repaired." He shrugged again. "Or, I can rip the damaged boards up and replace everything. Either way, the entire finish will have to be redone."

"How noticeable will the repairs be?"

"If I replace the boards you won't be able to tell, at least not unless you know where to look and are really looking. If I repair the gouges, since it's the floor, it won't be terribly noticeable, but you'll be able to tell, especially right after I do it. The filler won't take the stain the way the rest of the wood will. After some foot traffic to scuff it up a little it'll be even less noticeable, but you'll always be able to tell. The walls will be a little less noticeable because of the angle, but like the floors, the repairs will always be visible."

Sean thought for a moment. The wood in the pub was simply gorgeous and he wasn't going to start taking shortcuts now. "Fix it right."

Ray looked around the room, clearly calculating. He walked out into the hall, his head swiveling this way and that as he took in the damage and carefully inspected the fit of the storeroom door.

"This all of it? None outside the office and hall?"

"No. They knew exactly what they were after."

Ray dug at his ear a moment with a pinky. "Everything, complete, eleven-five."

Sean didn't know why he was so shocked. Everything they'd done to the pub had been expensive. At least his insurance was paying for most of the expense this time. "Okay, let's do it. How long?"

"Eh," Ray grunted. "The floors and walls are tongue and groove, so replacing the boards are going to be a pain in the ass. Figure end of next week, and remember, you'll have to stay off the floors when I start refinishing them."

"How long?"

"A day to sand and restain, then another day to put on the poly, then seventy-two hours after the last coat, so figure four days to be safe."

Sean pursed his lips. He was going to have to close for this because he couldn't run a pub without access to restrooms, and the restrooms were in the hall where the floor would be refinished. Unless... "Do you have to do the entire hall, all the way to the public area?"

"No. I'll feather it in, why?"

"So you could hang a sheet or something to block off the hall so the bathrooms are still accessible while the rest of the hall is drying, right?"

"Yeah, we can probably tape up a piece of plastic or something. I'd have to do something like that for dust control while sanding anyway."

"Good," Sean breathed. "For a minute there I thought I might have to close the place while you worked."

"I wouldn't do that to you, Sean," Ray said with a grin.

"What do you need from me to get started?"

"Feel like helping me move that heavy ass door out of my truck and prop it against the wall?"

Sean chuckled. "Sure."

Once Ray was busy ripping out the old door, Sean left him to his work. Laura would be there in an hour or so to keep an eye on things. He drove back to the station, cued up the video, and then waited until Tyrell stuck his head into his office.

"You have something to show me?" Tyrell asked.

Sean waved the officer into the office. Tyrell was tall and slim, almost to the point of gauntness, his prominent cheekbones making his cheeks appear slightly sunken. Even though he was only in his early thirties, his dark, curly hair was already beginning to recede and thin. While he seemed capable and full of energy, Sean couldn't help but wonder if he was keeping a medical condition secret.

"Yeah. Watch this guy and tell me if you recognize him." Sean started the video as Tyrell bent at the waist for a better view, and after ten seconds the man waved his hand. He paused the video and pointed. "I've seen a guy in Tilley make that same gesture."

"You can't see anyone's face?"

"No."

Tyrell straightened. "I suppose it could be Cotton. I've seen him make that," Tyrell mimicked the motion he'd seen in the video.

"Would Cotton be the type to...?"

"Oh yeah," Tyrell muttered. "He was well known to the Tilley PD. Always working a deal, and not all of them legal."

"That's his name? Cotton?"

"His full name is Jasper Kohler, but he goes by Cotton."

"He been picked up lately?"

"Not by me, not since we started putting a crimp in his plans."

Sean keyed Cotton's name into PISTOL but nothing came back. He hadn't been arrested since Brunswick took over patrolling Tilley. He'd check the state database later.

"Thanks, Tyrell. You've been a big help."

"You want me to track him down?"

Sean smiled. "No. I'd like to handle this one personally, but if you happen to see Mr. Cotton out and about, I'd appreciate you letting me know."

Tyrell smiled. "Uh-oh. The chief's pissed. I'm glad I'm not in Cotton's shoes."

Sean grinned. "Not pissed. I'd just like to have a few words with him, that's all."

"Uh-huh," Tyrell grunted with a smile. "I'll keep an eye out for him."

"Thank you, Officer Pickerling."

As soon as Tyrell was out of his office Sean looked up Cotton's last known address. He was going to pay Mr. Kohler a little visit. "I'm going to be out of the office for half an hour or so," he said as he passed through the lobby.

He drove back to Tilley. He was missing his lunch, and his normal walkabout, but he wanted to put Cotton on notice. Now that he had a name, he was going to squeeze the man to see if he could get him to make a mistake. He'd do his walkabout tomorrow.