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visibly.
"Coming right up."
I followed her as far as the doorway. Everything in the kitchen was neatly
arranged, too. The counters were mostly empty, except for a four-slice toaster
and a set of country kitsch style canisters.
The dish rack next to the sink was full, and there were two steak knives
among the clean silverware.
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She filled a glass at the tap and handed it to me. It tasted slightly soapy.
"Are you originally from California?" I asked conversationally. "From around
here?"
"Oh, no," she said. "Nowhere near as nice as this."
"Where'd you move from?"
"The North Pole." Another coy laugh and a shake of the head. "At least, it
might as well be."
"Let me guess. Maine? You strike me as a New Englander."
"Can I get you a refill?"
"No, thank you. Really, I'm fine."
She took the water glass out of my hand, not yet half empty, and turned
toward the sink.
That was when all hell broke loose.
First, I heard heavy footsteps and a loud shout coming from just outside.
Almost immediately, the back door burst open with a crash of splintering wood
and glass. I heard the front door crashing in as well.
Then police officers streamed into the kitchen from both sides, flak jackets
on, their weapons drawn and pointed at Mary Wagner.
Chapter 92
MARY DROPPED THE WATER GLASS, but I didn't even hear it break. Suddenly the
kitchen was filled with loud shouting, as well as Mary's frightened screaming.
"Get out of my house! I didn't do anything! Get away from me, please! Why are
you here?"
I held up my badge in front of me, unsure if the LAPD assault team even knew
who I was.
"Get down on the floor!" The lead officer's pistol was pointed at Mary's
chest. "Get down.Now! On the floor!"
In a matter of seconds, Mary Wagner was a total wreck. Her eyes were
unfocused, and she didn't even seem to hear the officer shouting at her.
"Get down!" he shouted again.
She backed up, still screaming, with her arms and shoulders in a hunched,
defensive position.
I could only watch as her bare foot came down on a piece of the broken water
glass. She yelped pitifully, then jerked to one side as if she'd been slapped.
Her free foot slipped in the water, and twisted under her. With a fast
pinwheeling of arms, she went down hard.
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The police assault team was on her in a second. Two officers rolled Mary over
and handcuffed her from behind. Another one read her rights, the words
probably coming too fast for her to understand.
Someone took my elbow and spoke in my ear. "Sir, could you come with me,
please?"
I ignored whoever it was.
"Sir?"The officer grabbed at me again, and I angrily shook him off.
"She needs first aid." But no one seemed to hear me, or if they did, pay any
attention.
"Ma'am, do you understand everything I've told you?" the arresting officer
asked. She nodded shakily, still facedown on the floor. I was fairly certain
she didn't understand any of this.
"Ma'am, I need you to say yes or no. Do you understand everything I've told
you?"
"Yes." It came out as a gasp. Her breathing was ragged. "I understand. You
think I did something bad."
That was enough. I pushed my way through the cops and knelt down next to her.
"Mary, it's me. Agent Cross. Are you all right? Mary? Do you really
understand what's happening now?"
She was still panicked but not dissociated. I made sure the shard was out of
her foot, then wrapped it in a dish towel and helped her sit up.
She looked around, wide-eyed, as if scanning the room for anything familiar.
"Mary, they're placing you under arrest. You need to go with them now. Do you
understand what I'm saying?"
"All right, we got it." A cop maybe half my age stepped in.
"Just give me a second here," I said.
"No, sir," he answered. "We are to take the suspect into immediate custody."
I turned away from Mary and kept my voice low. "What do you think I'm trying
to help you do here?"
"Sir, my instructions are clear, and unequivocal. Please step away. This is
our arrest."
My only alternative to giving in was a truly ugly scene. I thought seriously
about it, but knew my argument wasn't with the arresting officers  it was
with their boss. Anyway, the damage was already done.
Within seconds, they had Mary Wagner on her feet and were pushing her out the
door. The stained dish towel lay crumpled on the floor, where a long red
smudge marked the linoleum.
"First aid!" I yelled after them, not that they could hear me anymore, not
that they gave a damn about what I had to say.
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I swear, I wanted to hit someone. My frustration and anger boiled over, and I
knew where to take it; I wheeled on the nearest sergeant.
"Where the hell is Maddux Fielding?" I shouted at the top of my voice. "Where
is he?"
Chapter 93
"BACK OFF, CROSS!"
Fielding said it before I even reached him. He was out on the sidewalk in
front of Mary Wagner's house, conferring with one of his arresting officers.
The block had been transformed from suburban normalcy into the kind of police
scene most people never see, or want to. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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