I knew you were out of the country when we met before. I asked her which name she was using that day.”
Lyza scowled. “What did she say?”
“She said what you said, that the two of you didn’t switch identities. She admitted that she’d never done it before or since.” He laughed. “But now every time I see her, I’m going to ask what name she’s using.”
“Serves her right.”
***
Officer Blake hated the vice squad. He messed up two undercover assignments because the suspects spotted him right away as a cop. He wasn’t good at playing games. He could hardly stand being around the lowlifes.
Earlier in that week, his supervisor had called him into his office. “Blake, you’re ready for a bust, and we want you to do some of the up-front investigation.”
Blake repositioned his hat. “Sure, Captain. Tell me what you want.”
“We suspect a house in Burbank. I want you to do surveillance. Officer Candy Mills will work with you. She’s been on the vice squad for ten years, so you’ll have more than capable backup. It’s going to be the graveyard shift.”
Blake nodded. My wife is going to come unglued. I haven’t worked a night shift for a while, and last time, she hated it. Well, this is the job. She’s going to have to suck it up. I don’t like the night shift either. I especially don’t like it in druggerland, Burbank, California.
The captain pulled out a schedule. “Your shift starts tomorrow night, from eleven until six. You got that?”
“I got it.”
And for the past four nights, Blake and Candy had sat in a rusty old van catty-corner from the suspected house. All night, they watched people scamper in and out of the front door like it revolved. At one point, three men sat on the porch, red dots showing where they smoked cigarettes.
A beat-up Volkswagen bug started a U-turn towards them. Candy crouched down behind the driver’s seat as Blake hunched down in the passenger seat. Lights panned across the windshield.
“This is crazy. We have enough evidence to raid the place.”
Candy peeked over the seat in front of her. “I know I can’t wait to get this over with. My kids hate staying at Aunt Sophie’s.”
“Yeah, my wife’s been complaining since the first night. She doesn’t like being home alone with the kids at night.”
“She’s probably worried about you, too.”
He laughed. “I doubt it.”
Candy chuckled. “No, really. Danger always seems bigger at night. From the time we’re babies, we’re afraid of things that go bump in the night. I know some officers say it doesn’t bother them, but I don’t believe them. Darkness hides things. I like to work in the light.”
He agreed. “There’s never any competition for the night shift, that’s for sure. Except for the slight pay increase, I see absolutely no benefit.”
A black limo pulled up to the front of the house and stopped at the curb. Blake focused the night-sensitive camera as the driver got out. “What a jerk. He’s making his driver do the dirty work.”
Candy suggested, “Or there’s no one inside, and the driver’s the one needing the drugs.”
“Okay, I hadn’t thought about that possibility.”
Blake raised the infrared camera and snapped a shot of the man knocking at the door. Then he focused on the license plate of the limo. “Yeah, we have to look at every scenario.” He took that photo, then leaned back in his seat. “When are we going to bust this gang?”
Candy reached for a donut from the box on the dashboard. “Beats me. I still have coffee in my thermos. Want some?
He looked in his cup. “No, I’m good, but I will take one of those donuts.”
Candy pushed the box toward him. “It’s almost four o’clock. Do these people ever sleep?”
He yawned. “Is insomnia a side effect of the drugs?”
She joined him in yawning. “Sorry, it’s contagious; and I’m sure they have a drug for side effects, too. If you take enough of any of them, you’ll sleep for a long time.”
“I guess that’s why we’re out here.”
“Blake, did you ever do drugs?”
He put his cup back in the console. “Never did. My parents kept me busy with sports and church all the time growing up and showed me what drugs could do to ruin a person’s life. When I did leave home, I knew better than to try them. I still hate drugs and dealers. How about you?”
She stared at the front door of the house. “I did some experimenting, my senior year of high school. Something horrible happened prom night, and that was the end of it.”
Blake leaned back in the seat and pulled his cap over his eyes. “Want to talk about it?”
Candy picked up the night vision binoculars. “Not really, but since I brought it up, I guess I owe you an explanation.”
He closed his eyes for a second, then looked at her. If it will help keep me awake, talk. “Not if you don’t want to.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “Maybe I need to talk about it. I smoked a little pot now and then. Funny how it’s always a little pot. Everyone says it’s harmless, but I know better. It disarmed me enough to let my guard down.” She wiped her face. “Prom night, we were all drinking and smoking, and we really thought we were smart. We thought we were invincible and that we knew everything.”
Blake nodded. Maybe I can catch a nap. “Uh-huh. Age has a sobering effect on us.”
Her voice softened. “That’s the truth. I don’t remember how it happened, but suddenly everyone disappeared except one guy. He was someone I admired from afar. Guess what I thought was so cool about him?”
Blake sighed. “What?”
She held the binoculars to her eyes. “He didn’t take any garbage off anyone. He dressed tough. He had tattoos up and down both arms and wore heavy metal earrings. I thought he was all-together—you know, someone who could do anything he wanted to anytime he wanted to, and no one could stop him? That night he wanted sex, and he raped me.”
Blake gasped. “Oh, Candy. I’m so sorry.” He sat up.
She shook her head. “My brother heard me screaming. When he found me with Mr. Tough Guy, my brother pulled his knife. Mr. Tough Guy was high and so strong. He snatched the knife from my brother and killed him.”
Blake let the last sentence sink in for a few seconds. “That’s terrible; I’m so sorry.”
Silence filled the old van as they stared at the front door of the house they watched.
Blake could think of nothing more to say. What can I say? How does she live
