Scarlet Vendetta (Book #4)

"Do you think you're a suspect? Detective?"

Aannnd, there it was; the interrogation. Howell finished his interrupted yawn as he considered how to deal with this. He had nothing to hide, but still . . .

"I already know, that if you're here Lieutenant, I'm a suspect in something. IAD doesn't make casual conversation." Howell looked at the clock on the wall. Yeah, it was lunch time, Lieutenant Jones had come at this time specifically to see how he'd react. Slowly turning his head, he saw that everyone in the room was watching them. Howell stood up and grabbed his jacket. "Coming?" He asked Jones.

"Where are we going?" Jones asked him as she stood.

"Lunch. You're interrupting mine so I thought we'd go someplace where we could have lunch. And talk. That ok with you?"

"Certainly. Let me get my bag."

"You won't need it. Come on." Howell headed for the door and the little park down the block. He hoped Butler Girl had brought enough for two. Otherwise Pamela was going to be eating a hot dog.

Since Wolfe had shown up that day, Butler Girl had become his regular caterer. She delivered his lunch every day now. She still didn't talk to him, just smiled whenever he asked her anything. Though she did unbend once to tell him her name, Diana. He'd given up trying to get any other answers from her. Now he just enjoyed the food she brought him every day.

"So, talk to me Lieutenant." Howell went down the front steps from the building, turning toward the little park as Jones followed him.

"That's not how this works Detective. You're supposed to talk to me. You know, lie, evade, avoid, disassociate, redirect."

"Is that what I'm supposed to do?" Howell looked over at her as she caught up and walked next to him. "Redirect the conversation?"

"Well, aren't you? Now, I mean." Jones waved her hand in indication of their walking down the street instead of sitting in the office.

Howell shook his head. "No. This is lunch."

Jones pointedly looked around. "This is a strange lunch."

"Don't worry. It'll get even stranger." They arrived at one of the benches in the tiny corner park. "Have a seat Lieutenant."

Jones just looked at him. Howell sighed to himself.

"Lieutenant, if you don't sit down, I won't. So, please sit."

"Does this mean you want me to think you're a gentleman?" Jones asked as she seated herself.

"Not necessarily. I was taught manners. I try to live up to my mother's expectations instead of being an ass. I have to be an ass to do my job sometimes. Being a cop, you know about that. But that doesn't mean we have to be an ass in every other aspect of our lives."

"So, is this evasion or avoidance?" Jones asked him with a smile about his cops sometimes have to be an ass explanation. She still had her job to do. Even if it made her look and act like an ass.

"Neither. This is conversation." Howell spotted Diana. She was headed in their direction with her covered silver tray and what looked like a small folding table. He turned back to Jones and finished his statement. "Over lunch."

Lieutenant Jones looked at the push cart vendor. "I guess I can have a hot dog. You buying?"

"No." Howell smiled as Diana arrived. "Good morning Diana."

"Good morning, Sir." Diana returned his greeting as she unfolded the table before placing and uncovering the tray.

Jones looked the new arrival over carefully as Howell hid his surprise at Diana's response. Other than the one time, she never spoke to him. Transferring his attention to the tray he saw that there were two plates. He nodded up at Butler Girl. She saw his appreciation and gave him a smile in return. She was very good at what she did. Very good.

"Oh, Mu-shu. I love Mu-shu." Jones saw what was on the plates. There were tiny cups for tea on the tray as well.

Diana gave her a glance before speaking to Howell.

"Marinated flaked Ahi and spring vegetables in rice paper wraps with Wasabi sauce. I am told to warn you the Wasabi is genuine." She gave Jones another glance as she poured tea for them both. "It is not Mu-shu. Ma'am."

"Thank you Diana." Howell sliced one of the rolls. The interior of the roll steamed.

"My pleasure." Diana stood, moving to one side and placing her hands behind her back in parade rest. "Sir."

Carefully, heeding Diana's warning, Howell dipped his fork into the sauce and then speared a bite of the roll. He looked over at Jones who was watching him. Howell waved his laden fork in her direction.

"Eat Lieutenant. Some very extraordinary people went to a great deal of trouble at the last minute to provide you with lunch today. The least you can do is enjoy it."

Jones shrugged and dipped a piece of her wrap into the sauce. Placing her bite into her mouth she suddenly choked and grabbed for her tea.

"Wow!" She exclaimed after she'd doused the spicy fire on her tongue.

Howell was not surprised at her reaction. Not too long ago, he'd have done the same. At some point, however, he'd begun to pay attention to details. Like Diana's subtle warning about the Wasabi being genuine. Genuine Wasabi was exceedingly rare outside of Japan and was a lot spicier than the green tinted horseradish most places tried to pass off as Wasabi.

"That's three mistakes today. Lieutenant."

Jones paused before taking her next, careful, bite. "Three?"

"Three. One was when you thought this was Mu-shu. You jumped to a conclusion with no actual data to support it. Instead, you discarded what you were told because it didn't fit with what you wanted to believe. Two was when you failed to heed the warning about the Wasabi sauce. You thought you knew better so you discarded that information as well."

"And the third?" Jones dipped her fork into the sauce like he'd done before spearing another piece.

"The third was the most primary mistake you made. You failed to understand that things are not always what they seem on the surface."

Jones chewed her mouthful as she contemplated. Normally, this would be where the person she was investigating would try to make her believe she was on the wrong track. That everything was perfectly innocent and she was making a mistake. Howell's words fit the well worn grooves in her mind. He was on script. He was hiding something. The question was what.

"So, you're saying I'm making a mistake in my investigation too?" Jones kept her attention on her plate as she asked the question. My God, this is really good. "Are you telling me I'm wrong?"

"I'm not telling you anything, Lieutenant." Howell wiped his lips with his napkin. Finished, he placed his silverware on the plate and lifted his cup of tea. "I'm well aware of how this works. If I seem eager to cooperate, I'm suspected in trying to drive the investigation to somewhere which doesn't involve myself. If I'm reluctant to answer your questions, I'm guilty because I'm hiding something. If I try to interfere, by telling you that you're wrong in your assumptions for example, I'm seen as trying to manipulate you and the facts."

Howell set down his empty cup. "No matter what I do, I lose."

"So, you're saying the system is rigged against you?" Jones nodded her head. This was still on script.

"No." Howell nodded to Diana. "Thank you Diana. I will tell your patron you exceeded expectations today. I believe she will be pleased."

"It was my pleasure sir." Diana finished packing her tray and folded the tiny table before giving Jones a nod. "Ma'am."

Jones watched her walk away for a few moments. "So, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying, if you want to investigate, then investigate. Do your job."

"That's what I'm doing."

"Mistake number four. That's what you think you're doing."

"Then, what am I doing? What is it you think I'm doing wrong?"

"You're not investigating, you're accusing. In the hope I'll make some kind of mistake which proves I'm dirty. That's normal procedure. I know it, you know it. But, in this case, it's a mistake."

"So?" Jones shrugged. "Does that mean you want me to believe you're innocent?"

"No. What that means is that I don't care if you investigate. What I care about is that you do your job and investigate the facts. Not some preconceived opinion which you support by sorting through the facts, discarding those which don't fit and then covering the holes with circumstantial fantasies."

"So what are the facts?"

Howell looked at her for a moment before standing, Jones rose with him. "Lunch was good, wouldn't you say?"

"It certainly was. Who paid for it?"

"Be careful, Lieutenant. The fact that you didn't pay for it, could mean that, someday, someone might want a favor from you. Have a good afternoon."

Howell tipped a non-existent hat before walking away. Jones watched him leave, calculating his responses and behavior. Nodding to herself she knew she was on the right track. Unspecified threats were still part of the script.

Howell spent the rest of the entire afternoon chasing rainbows and unicorns. With predictable results. Sitting at the dinner table that evening, he was still mentally engaged with his work when Wolfe interrupted his train of thought.

"Who was she?" Wolfe asked him without preamble. Callie and Fox both looked up, surprised at her sharp tone.

"Who was who?" Howell answered Wolfe's question with a question.

"Who was she? The woman you had lunch with today." Wolfe's voice got colder. Abruptly, both Callie and Fox got up from the table and carried their meals into Callie's room. Giving them privacy.

"I see Diana reported what happened. I told her I would let you know that I thought she did an extraordinary job today."

Wolfe looked at him and narrowed her eyes. "Steven . . ."

"She is Lieutenant Pamela Jones." Howell had a twinkle in his eye. Wolfe was jealous. "She works for IAD."

"IAD?"

"Internal Affairs Division. I'm being investigated."

"Why?"

"Because someone thinks I'm getting paid off with favors and that I'll reciprocate and cover for them if I'm asked."

"Are you? Getting favors and covering for someone?"

"Absolutely." Howell smiled at her before getting up and lifting her out of her chair and into his arms. "Ab-so-lutely."

"Steven, let me go!" Wolfe pushed with her arms while kicking her feet helplessly.

Howell kissed her softly before he carried her to their bedroom. "Never."

Twenty Four

The next morning, Lieutenant Jones showed up at his desk early. She smiled gleefully at him as she plunked herself into the chair next to his desk.

"Good morning." She told him before she sipped from a cup with the label from the coffee shop down the block. From the smell, it was café mocha. Howell wrinkled his nose.

"What? You don't like coffee?" Jones took another sip from her cup.

"Actually I do, but the cheap Colombian you're drinking isn't very good. There are much better grades available."

"Hey!" Jones protested. "I like it."

Howell spread his hands in a suit yourself gesture. "What brings you to my desk so early today? Lunch isn't for another couple of hours."

"I'm not here for lunch. Unless you're offering." She smiled hopefully in his direction.

"Lieutenant, I am reminded of something someone once told me. About shmoozing."

"Huh?" Jones was suddenly lost.

"Let's assume you and the Mayor are really good friends. You have lunch every day. How long do you think it would be before someone asked to have lunch with you? Not because they wanted to actually have lunch with you, but because they could say they got to shmooze with the Mayor?"

"But I don't know the Mayor."

"My point exactly. So why do you want to have lunch again with me? Is it me? Or some other reason?"

"Oh." Jones thought through what Howell said. She looked around the office at everyone watching them. "Screw 'em."

"Once again. My point exactly." Howell leaned forward as his eyes got intense.

Jones set down her cup. "Listen, something weird is going on. My job is to find out what."

"Then, do that. I'm not stopping you." Howell sat back again.

"You're not helping either." Jones pointed out.

"I'm not? I gave you a lot of facts yesterday. Free of charge."

"Like what?" Jones picked up her coffee and took another deliberate sip while looking at Howell over the rim of her paper cup.

"Lieutenant, you need to knock off the crap. We both know how this works. You know that I know you aren't stupid."

"And?"

"So, lay it out. What did you learn yesterday? That I already know about." Howell qualified his question. "I'm not asking for IAD's secrets."

Jones decided to play along. Anything she got would help her nail him. If he was dirty.

"I know you have lunch catered every day. A really delicious lunch." Jones licked her lips at the memory. "By someone anonymous."

"So? Is that illegal?"

"No. But, it could be a payoff of some sort. Which is why I've been assigned to the investigation."

"Don't dirty cops usually try to hide that sort of thing?" Howell prompted her to think beyond the obvious.

"Usually. Which is why we think you're not hiding it. You're smarter than that."

"So I'm supposed to be flaunting the payoff to make you believe there isn't one?" C'mon Lieutenant, that's a ridiculous assumption."

"Is it?" Jones took another sip of her coffee.

"Take it to the DA and see what he says. If he doesn't laugh at you, I'll buy you lunch every day for a month."

Jones frowned. "Ok, it's thin."

"That's not thin, it's non-existent. Think Lieutenant. I'm not hiding it. It's in plain sight to everyone. What do I gain by forcing you to investigate? What does someone else gain by having you investigate?"

"Are you saying the investigation is a cover up?" Jones smiled to herself. Once again, on script.

"I'm not saying anything except to ask you to do your job. Your whole job, not a half-assed one. Unless you got your bars by brown nosing the Mayor."

"I told you, I don't know the Mayor."

Howell spread his hands once more. Jones got the point. Again. Dammit! He was leading her around and making her see only what he wanted her to see. And she was helping him.

"Ok, so you're not hiding it. But you aren't explaining it either."

"Do I have to?"

"In this case, yes."

"Lieutenant, who bought your car?"

"That's kind of personal, why do you want to know?" Jones put him off automatically. Her private life wasn't anyone's business.

"Isn't a car expensive? Couldn't it be considered a payoff? Yet, you aren't being asked to explain who bought it for you. Are you?"

"This is not about my car."

"You're right, it isn't. It's about my private affairs. Why should I have to explain myself if you don't have to? Who gains? Who loses? Why?" Howell's tone was mild.

Dammit! He was doing it AGAIN! Yet . . .

Jones sipped from her coffee as she looked at Howell in contemplation. Howell waited for her to ask more questions, but she only watched him. Shrugging, he turned back to his computer. There was some new data about Rusk's sister. She and Callie had gone to school together. If he asked, maybe Callie would give him background information on her. He'd have to think about that before he asked though, he didn't want to alienate her or make her think he was investigating her life.

"What are you working on?" Jones asked after a few minutes of watching him type. She sounded interested.

"It's a database. On a known drug supplier we haven't been able to take down. He keeps slipping through the net. You know how it is."

"Yeah." Jones grimaced. "Win some, lose a lot."

Howell nodded as he typed. She was a good cop. Misguided, but still a good cop.

Jones sighed. "Ok. I'm listening. Talk to me."

"Lieutenant, you still aren't hearing me. My business is private and personal and I am not going to tell you about it. If you want to know, then get the information elsewhere."

Jones sighed again. "Ok, I'm going to put it on the table. We pulled your bank and phone records and cross-checked them. We dug through your computer. Nothing. We had you under surveillance and came up with nothing. You live in a hotel, have no outstanding unpaid debts and only minimal savings. There have been no large deposits or withdrawals. You own your car and you live a quiet life outside of work. We have nothing, yet you get an expensive catered lunch every day. It doesn't add up."

Before he could respond someone called his name. "Howell, you have a visitor."

As he watched, Callie was escorted to his desk. She had a visitor badge clipped to her dress. Automatically he looked for Karen and didn't see her.

"Callie? Something wrong?"

"No. I'm just playing messenger today." Callie held an envelope. Looking at Jones, she tapped her thumb and index finger together once.

"Lieutenant Jones?" She asked to confirm what her photographic memory already told her.

"Yes?" Jones responded.

"An invitation for you." Callie handed the envelope to Jones.

"From who?"

"My employer." Callie smiled at her before turning to Howell. "At noon. GCC, first tier. Just go to the entrance, they'll let you in and show you where to go if you don't remember."

"How many of us will be there?" Howell wanted to know.

"Three." Callie told him. "I have to go. She's surrounded and you know she doesn't like it." Callie nodded and left before he could respond. Both Jones and Howell watched her leave.

"Who was that?" Jones opened the envelope. It had her full name printed on it, Lieutenant Pamela Angeline Jones. She pulled out a white folded card. It was embossed in gold.

You are cordially invited to a private luncheon

Today, at Twelve O'clock (Noon)

at the GreenWood Country Club.

RSVP

"Just a friend." Howell answered her as he turned back to his desk. Jones held out the card to him.

"What's this about?" She asked.

Howell read the card and looked at the envelope. "I think she wants to talk to you. If you're lucky, she'll give you some of the answers you're looking for."

"Who?" Jones was curious. Maybe this was the answer to the puzzle about Howell and her investigation.

"Pamela," Howell intentionally used her given name rather than her rank. "I suggest that if you want to know, you should accept. Otherwise, you may never learn the answers to your questions." Howell handed back the card, turning it over to display the back where a phone number was also embossed in gold. Just the number, no other information.

"I've never heard of her making this kind of offer twice. She doesn't have to. If you don't accept she'll just move on without you ever knowing whatever it is that she wants you to know."

Jones stared at him. Something was going on. Some kind of secret. Maybe the answer was right in front of her. If she could just see it. Reaching out, she lifted Howell's phone from it's cradle. Dialing the number she kept her eyes on Howell who seemingly ignored her to return to his typing.

"GreenWood Enterprises." The voice on the other end of her call sounded happy.

"Uh, hello? I'm calling to RSVP a lunch invitation. For today. I'll be there."

"Oh yes. Lieutenant Jones. I will let her know lunch is confirmed."

"Uh, let who know?"

"Your Hostess of course. See you at Noon. Steven knows where." Abruptly the line went dead as the call was ended.

"That was weird." Jones replaced the handset on it's base. Howell shrugged to his computer instead of her.

"Let me get this done and we can go. It'll take us at nearly an hour to get there through the lunchtime traffic. You should get your things."

Jones nodded. She needed her bag. She also needed to let someone know where she was going. Just in case she didn't come back.