This is a work of fiction, using characters from the film, “LA Confidential". No insult or invasion of privacy or infringement of copyright is intended. The story is for readers over the age of 18 only, and contains adult language. The writer is not responsible for any "discomfort" caused to the reader by this language and these situations.
Shadows
©2007 by: C4C
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ed heaved a weary sigh as he drove to the office. The day was a doozy. The men had started digging up the entire back area of the club and he had left specific orders that he was to be contacted immediately if any other evidence surfaced. As of now, no new prints had been found and he would have to wait a few days until the FBI processed the partials.
Trying to clear his mind, he thought back to the night before. And Joy. He tried to remember the last time he had been so interested and excited about a woman. He had put that part of his life on hold, steering clear of anything resembling serious, to move ahead with his career. But only lately, actually since Bud had told him about the baby, had he realized he missed having someone special in his life. And now, maybe just now, that someone special had come along. He decided to ask her to lunch.
But it wasn't in the cards.
As he walked towards the office, he could see her working two phone lines at once. She glanced up to se him coming and waved him over, handing him a bunch of messages.
"Thank God you're back," she said, hurriedly, "all hell just broke loose. The D.A. called twice. He's meeting with the Mayor and they want you there as soon as possible. The papers got hold of this morning's discovery--it's going to be in the afternoon editions."
"I don't understand this," said Ed, clearly annoyed. "They know we found what we were looking for--"
"--you didn't get the radio message?"
"No--"
Joy forced herself to take a deep breath. "Captain, a call came in about ten minutes ago, from across town. Another girl was found, same m.o., same everything."
"Shit," Ed growled, under his breath. "Did they give her a name?"
Joy shook her head.
"Alright, hold my--"
"--already done. Now, go before the switchboard blows out!"
When things had finally calmed down, Joy seized the opportunity to take a break. She made her way across the street to the small luncheonette near the precinct. It was cheery and bright with lots of chrome and Formica and she liked the black and red checker scheme.
A few of the women from work were there and they waved her over. They were friendly and pleasant to talk to and it was nice to be let into this little clique. She had kept to herself far too long, what with migrating across the country and being busy with a new apartment and a new job. But, now things might finally be changing, she thought, happily. She had to admit to herself that she missed having a girlfriend to gossip with and confide in.
When the conversation turned to fashion, she asked if any of them knew a good dress shop. They answered, almost in unison, telling her that Lt. White's wife owned a really nice place only three bus stops from the station. This interested Joy.
"So, Mrs. White has her own business?"
"She's always had her own business," someone said in a snickering tone that Joy didn't understand and didn't want to pursue. She would definitely check this out and kill two birds with one stone: find a dress and meet Lynn White. She was dying of curiosity. She would go tonight!
Lynn stood at the kitchen sink, washing the same dish over what had to be a ten-minute span, feeling happier and more at peace than she remembered being in a long time. Looking out the window, not even the grey clouds heavy with moisture dampened her mood. She was lucky, she thought to herself. So damn lucky...
She remembered the first time she had prayed. That had been in the hospital when Bud was in surgery: she would learn, later, that the surgeons thought they had lost him, at least twice. Her prayer had been simple: just let him live. Let him live and she would never ask for another thing for the rest of her life.
Her prayer had been finally granted. And, so, she had broken her promise and prayed again, over and over, that he would finally forgive her --and himself-- and come back to her. Miraculously, God had again blessed her. She wasn't sure why and she didn't question it, just rejoiced quietly every single day of her life with the man she loved.
And now, her greatest wish --which she hadn't dared to ask for-- Bud's baby. Growing inside her...
Finally releasing the now very clean dish, her hand moved down to where that very tiny life lay. Her eyes filled with happy tears; she couldn't have imagined feeling so much love. Yes, she was lucky. So damn lucky...
Bud was also lost in thought as he drove across town to see Scarlet. Stopping at a traffic light, he relaxed his grip on the steering wheel and flexed his hands. He could feel the tension in his shoulders as he shifted his body around in the seat, trying to relieve it. There had been little sleep, the last few nights and his mind still churned with unsettling thoughts.
He worried about Lynn and wondered if it was really normal for her to be so sick and dizzy. He was happy about the baby, but at the same time the news had unearthed deep-seated memories and doubts. The sadness and helplessness of his mother and the brutality of his father, the loneliness of his childhood--all these unbidden memories were starting to accumulate, despite himself. He wanted to talk to Lynn, but she was so happy about the baby and he didn't want to worry her. And Wanda! What the fuck was she doing here?? He thought, after the chilly reception he had given her, that she would just leave, but for fuck’s sake, now she was calling him at work. That had ticked him off more than he wanted to recall: he cringed at the way he had treated Joy and made a mental note to make it up to her.
Pulling up to the curb in front of Scarlet's shabby little house, he took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. After knocking on the back door a few times and finding it locked, he walked back to the car, deciding to wait and see if she showed up. He leaned against the fender and looked at the squalor, noting for the first time a car parked directly across the street from the house next door. It was a beauty: a brand new Cadillac. He wondered who in the hell in their right mind would park a car like that in a neighborhood like this.
A noise startled him just then and he turned suddenly on his heels.
The figure behind the shredding curtains, the one who had caused the wood beam to fall, cursed viciously under his breath, never taking his eyes off the man on the sidewalk.
Bud was sure the sound had come from inside, although it looked secure and the door was still nailed shut. He noticed that one of the windows was broken and started to slowly walk up the front steps. It was the same window the man had stepped through when he saw the officer's car turn the corner. It seemed to Bud that this was the perfect place for dopers to hang out.
He pushed his jacket aside and put a hand on his gun. The man inside tensed. Taking his own gun out of his pocket, he cocked the trigger, preparing to make his presence well known to this particular cop.
Bud started to up the walkway when a feminine voice called out to him. "Officer White, is that you?"
He turned to see Scarlet, holding a grocery bag, standing at the entrance of her backyard. He let go of his gun.
"Yeah, Scarlet. I need to talk to you."
He let his jacket fall back into place and took another intense look at the broken window. All of his instincts told him to investigate but he didn't want to scare the young girl anymore than she was, already. He followed her back to the house.
The cold, gray eyes of the man behind the curtain followed them, as well. Relaxing his grip on his gun, he let a slow, hard breath escape behind clenched teeth. He knew that the two of them would meet. And soon.
Bud followed her into the kitchen and shut the door. She motioned for him to sit down as she unloaded the purchases onto the small counter. Talc. A small can of coffee, a pack of cigarettes. She filled a coffeepot and set it on the burner, grabbed an ashtray and came to sit next to him.
He was worried about her, seeing the toll the recent events had taken on her. The paleness of her skin made the dark circles under her eyes stand out. He watched the small hand shake as she tried to light a cigarette. Taking one of the matches, he lit it for her. She inhaled deeply.
"I had a feeling you'd be coming by today--because of Rocco, I mean," she said softly. You people couldn't care less about him but he was all I had--" Her head fell forward and her shoulders trembled and she began to sob quietly. Reaching into his pocket, Bud found a handkerchief and placed it on the table, covering her hand with his.
"Doesn't matter what I thought of Rocco," he said. "I want the people who did it. And you need to be safe."
She looked even more alarmed. He had to tell her.
"Earlier today--we found the girls you were talking about." Bud leaned forward, trying to be as gentle as he could. "I'm sorry--they're dead--murdered, back in that club you sent us to. 'The Velvet Glove.'"
Scarlet gasped. "Oh, my God! I really thought it was just talk--to scare us--" She began rocking in her chair. "I was hoping they got away. I'm next! I know it, Rocco's gone and I'm next--"
Bud stood up and raised her to her feet. He wished he could put those fears to rest, but the truth was, he was thinking the same damn thing. He held her as she cried, saying, "Scarlet, you have to calm down. You have to think and let me try to help you, okay?"
After a moment, he saw her nod, her head still buried against his chest.
"You can't stay here." He stepped back and made her look at him. "Do you have anyplace you can go? Friends you can stay with, for awhile? Scarlet!"
She snapped at the sound of his voice. "There's Crystal," she managed. "We worked together when I first got here. She came by last night--after she heard what happened. She wanted me to go home with her."
"Well then,' Bud said, with a tight smile, "looks like Crystal's gonna have some company."
"I guess." She shrugged, hopelessly. "I didn't really want to leave--"
"--put some things together and give her a call," he said, firmly. "I'll drive you there. Hurry up."
As Scarlet headed to her room, Bud sipped his coffee and walked slowly through the apartment. He touched some of the cheap knick-knacks, remembering how his mother would buy almost the same things in pitiful attempts to brighten up their drab surroundings. The worn carpets, the threadbare furniture, all so familiar.
He broke out in a cold sweat.
It was like the place that haunted him, in his dreams. He could feel the walls closing in on him and the stale air clogged his throat. He had to get out. He walked towards Scarlet's room, almost colliding with her as she came out the door. She carried a small beat-up suitcase and a box.
"Is this it?" he asked. "Cause you're not coming back here, for awhile."
"This is it," she replied. "It's all I have."
He took her belongings to his car as she re-packed her grocery back and locked up.
The caddy was gone. He wondered with a wry smile if it would come up missing, in the a.m.
Scarlet slipped into the passenger seat and they started the short drive, to Crystal's place. She was calmer now but very silent. Bud cleared his throat and spoke.
"Are you sure this Crystal is on the up and up? You'll be okay, there?"
She didn't answer at first, but finally asked, "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"It's my job," he said, roughly. "To protect you. Now answer me."
"Oh, yeah. She's nice, not nasty or snotty like some of the other girls. She said to come right over."
She finally looked at Bud: her eyes were like saucers. He wished he could do more for her.
"Look, you have my number, right?" She nodded. "If anything happens--anything at all--you give me a call, all right?"
"Yes--yes, I will, Officer White."
He pulled up in front of Crystal's place; they both saw her standing on the porch. Scarlet started to get out of the car, murmuring thanks. Bud said, "Scarlet--what's your real name?"
She looked back at him; after a moment she said, "Mary. Mary Louise. My Mom named me after both my grandmothers--it's been a long time since I've even said it--"
"You should use it," he said, softly. "It suits you."
"It does?"
"Yeah, it does. Take care, Mary Louise."
Bud looked at his watch as he headed into the precinct. It was only 4:00 but all he wanted to do was go home to Lynn, but Ed would be expecting him to check-in. Walking into the office, he saw Joy, getting ready to leave. He remembered the morning, with a twinge.
"Leaving early," he asked, in a forced, light tone.
"Not really. I came in at seven--''
"Yeah, I know--he in there?"
"Ah, no, he's at the Mayor's office with the D.A. They're having a press conference about what happened today."
"Yeah. He gets to have all the fun."
She angled her head. "Would you like to be in his shoes?"
"Me, hell no. I'm no damn good at politics, that's Ed's--Captain Exley's job." He stopped. That wasn't what he wanted to say to her. She was starting to head for the door.
"Uh--Joy--about this morning."
She stopped and turned back to him. "This morning?" She waited a beat; he looked so uncomfortable. She gave it a moment, then rescued him.
"This morning was a long time ago." She smiled at him. "Good night, Lieutenant."
He breathed a sigh of relief. ''Okay. You have a nice night."
"You, too, See you tomorrow."
He nodded. As she headed to the elevator, he wondered: did Ed really knew what a find he had, right outside his door.
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