
Brenda Chiatovich:
Now you know one reason my daughter’s picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez:
So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.
Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.
Collars had managed to pull his tie so it was straight and get a jacket over his rumpled shirt on the way to the hospital. He was trailed by DeVry and Peters. They all looked dour.
Watching them approach from inside the room gave Morgan a foreboding sensation.
Something was not right and whatever it was it was not good for Morgan. Which in turn meant it might not be good for Delavera, and possibly not good for the girl laying in the hospital bed.
The three marched past the nurses station without looking left or right, although their passage evoked stares of curiosity and wonder from staff and patients alike.
The door of the room had barely opened when Collars spoke to Morgan. “You and Delavera are to go to the squad room and wait there until either I or internal affairs speak to both of you. Is that understood?”
Morgan blinked. Of all the things he might have guessed might happen next, that would have not been one of them.
“Did you,” Morgan found himself hesitating to ask, “listen to the flash drive?”
“You mean this?” Collars held up a plastic bag. Inside was a small flash drive. It looked like it had been stomped on. There was also moisture in it. “This is useless. Nothing can be got from this. Don’t know why you bothered to send it to me.”
Morgan glanced at Delavera. He couldn’t help himself, although he knew what her expression would be. He knew he would see “I told you so” written all over her face. He was wrong and it took him a second to recognize it for what it was. It was his mother’s expression when she said, “You just had to find out for yourself, didn’t you?”
Next he glanced at the girl in the hospital bed, Davenport.
Her eyes were open, her mouth also. She was in pure terror. There was nothing he could do. She stammered out, “He told me he found the confession. Everything would be okay.”
Collars stared at Morgan with pure hatred. “He did, did he?”
His voice was grit when he spoke to Morgan. “Did it strike you at the time there might be some conflict in discussing evidence with the prime suspect? Did it even cross your mind you that you are supposed to be a professional police officer and that you are to conduct yourself as such?”
“This morning that flash drive was in perfect condition.” Morgan snapped, forgetting he was always supposed to be proper and polite to his superior no matter the circumstances.
“Are you suggesting DeVry did something improper with the evidence?”
Morgan, Delavera, and L.C. looked at DeVry.
DeVry did not look at anyone directly. “I did not look at, examine, or do anything else with the evidence. I simply passed it on as I was instructed to do.”
Morgan shook his head. “No. DeVry did nothing with the evidence other than what he said.”
“What about Wilbur?” asked L.C. “Wilbur was there. He heard her. He was there with me. She kidnapped both of us.”
Collars approached the bed. “Wilbur who?” He was frowning, almost daring her to speak. Every officer on the force had seen Collars imposing presence shake career criminals.
“Wilbur Daggit. Cody Daggit’s brother. He was there. He saw everything.”
“You are good with that. You seem to have a whole playground full of imaginary friends. There is no Wilbur Daggit. Cody has no brother. Wilbur was Cody Daggits middle name. Just as there is no Nathaniel Norman.”
Collars leaned close. “Don’t worry. While you are in prison you’ll have plenty of time to play with all of your imaginary friends. You can even invite some more of them to join you. Until the entire prison is filled with them.”
A uniformed policeman came in from the hall. “You are not going to believe this. Turn on the TV.”
Collars glared at the intruder, but did not say anything while the TV was turned on. The screen showed a dark-haired, pretty, Mexican news anchor speaking into the camera. “Once again, this has just arrived from the offices of Police Chief Collars who attributes its acquisition to the fine police work of officers Lance Morgan and Esperanza Delavera. The first voice you will hear is that of Lindsey Carol Davenport who has been a person of interest in the murder of Peter Johnson. The second voice you will hear is that of an unidentified woman as she confesses to the crime.”
Collars listened to the first three sentences before turning to DeVry and Peters. He settled on Peters. “Call that station and tell them to quit airing that tape. The ‘Unidentified woman’ is underage and they are violating her civil rights.”
Peters nodded and left the room.
L C, Morgan, and Delavera, looked at each other in turn as they all processed the same thought: If Collars had never heard the original flash drive how would he know the age of the person who was on it. L C, although not old enough to drink under modern law was still an adult by law at twenty years old.
The uniformed policeman was holding a tablet much like Delavera’s in his hand. “Too late to stop it. The full version is on Youtube, complete with her name, Peaches Pardot. They will take it off as soon as they can, but it is already going viral. No one will ever be able to get rid of it now.”
Collars said nothing as he left the room followed by the one uniformed policeman.
DeVry turned to Morgan. “I’m sorry. But you and Collars are a train wreck and I am not getting between you.”
Morgan nodded, pursing his lips. “I understand. You have a wife and children.”
“And a baby on the way. I am looking for another job. If I get one I may be able to help you. Until then I’m out of it.” DeVry followed the path Collars had taken out of the room.
Alone in the hospital room, except for Delavera and Davenport, Morgan looked at his partner. He remembered the old Mexican woman who hobbled in to the room looking uncertainly around until she saw Delavera. He remembered how Delavera had carefully taken her hand and folded it closed as she led the woman out of the room. Morgan knew now she had placed a flash drive in that hand and then guided the woman to safety, not the bathroom. He realized now that his partner had had all the opportunity she needed to make a copy of the original flash drive.
“That was interesting,” Morgan said. “That old lady who couldn’t speak English a friend of yours?”
Delavera shrugged. “Like my gringo husband says about us ‘Damn Mexicans,’ You never know which one of them is a cousin until you get introduced to them.”
Morgan used his chin to point at the news anchor. “That one of your cousins?”
“You will never know unless I introduce you.”
L C lay on the bed, watching them, tears running down her cheek. Even she could not have said exactly what the tears meant.
© 2016 All Rights Reserved
Like this:
Like Loading...
Recent Comments