J. Daniel Sawyer - Clarke Lantham 01 by And Then She Was Gone Page B

car.
    “Look, Officer, I came out here on a job. My client had some business with the owner of the house. Before I could get to the door I heard the kid yelling, and then the woman screamed and the kid ran out of here like he was scared of getting caught.” I rattled off a mostly-truthful account of the rest of it. He glanced sideways at Rawles, cooling his heels against the shed wall. “It was self defense.”
    “He says you hit him with your gun.”
    “It was in the holster. You came up behind me. Did I have time to put it back? Is there a bruise where I supposedly hit him?”
    “Hmph. So what’s the kid’s problem with you?”
    “I’ve been keeping an eye on him for my client. He’s probably worried I’m gonna rat him out for his herb business.” That got him. Randolph’s eyes peaked quick before he could cover it up. “Probably got some product on him right now.”
    “And the pictures?”
    “He’s pulling it out of his ass. Probably watched ‘America’s Most Wanted’ during dinner.”
    “Mind if I take a look at the phone?”
    “Not without a warrant.”
    Now, here’s the problem with street cops: they’re used to getting their way with intimidation when the law isn’t on their side—they’re trained in extracting evidence without letting suspects know what they’re up to. With a detective it wouldn’t have been a problem—they know the score and deal with PIs all the time.
    Randolph grabbed the handpiece for his walkie and hit the button. “Dispatch, this is Randolph, number 875. I’m gonna need a second patrol car in here to haul in suspects.”
    “Ten-Four, 875, units are on their way,” said the dispatcher.
    Last thing I needed just then was time in lockup. I nodded at the cop. “I’m sorry, but the last…”
    “Shut up. Kid says his name is Rawles. That right?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Rawles! Get over here.”
    The kid sauntered over. He was sure he’d nailed me.
    Randolph looked him up and down. “Do you have anything in your pockets you want to tell me about?
    “No.”
    “Turn around and spread your legs.” Rawles did as he was told, after giving the cop a look that would have gotten him thrown to the ground in a less genteel jurisdiction. This cop was patient, but he wasn’t screwing around.
    Randolph patted down Jason’s pockets and came out with a dime bag. He held it up to his flashlight. Its contents weren’t green. “Well, looks like we have a winner. Let’s add possession of methamphetamines to the list of charges. Now, you,” he nodded at me, “Out in front. You,” he poke Rawles in the back, “Follow him.”
    I was already sitting in the rear seat of Randolph’s car working on a new set of wrist scars by the time backup arrived a couple minutes later. Randolph handed Rawles off to the other car and then got back into his own.
    He waited until we were moving before he started into me, right on schedule. “Doesn’t have to go down this way, you know.”
    “Yeah, it does. I show you files on my phone without a warrant and you can bring me up on breach of confidence. I’ll lose my license.”
    “So help me out here. Who is this kid? What’s his deal?”
    “Wish I knew. You want to bring him up for dealing, though, I’ve got notes and photos from yesterday. I’ll be happy to have him out of my way.” It wasn’t really true, but if Rawles was in lockup I could get him when I needed him. Until then, I had the house. And now two girls to find, instead of one.
    Randolph didn’t say anything for about a half mile.
    I wasn’t lying when I told him I couldn’t give him the phone. He wouldn’t have found anything after the deep-cleaning I gave the phone’s filesystem. I could retrieve the pictures from the crypto drive later if I needed them, but no search in the world would turn them—or the drive-up.
    Would have been great, except the phone contained my notes. Unless I’m reporting a crime—which I wasn’t—I can’t show those to anyone without a