Senseless by Mary Burton Page B

time of year, the trees had begun to bud and the land looked a little less barren. Still, the air remained chilly and likely few tourists meandered about. Garrison parked at the main entrance lot, which was empty. He checked his watch.
    “So what is Carlson selling?” Malcolm said. “She’s always working an angle.”
    “I don’t know. But her guy might have a lead on our Jane Doe’s murder. I’ve got to hear what the two have to say.”
    “That woman irritates the shit out of me,” Malcolm grumbled. “I doubt she has a conscience.”
    “Who knows? She might.”
    “How can you say that? She was a barracuda in the courtroom.”
    “Just doing her job. And she won the Dixon case fair and square. I don’t like it but it’s done and over.”
    Malcolm shifted in his seat toward his partner. “How do you do it?”
    “Do what?” Garrison kept his gaze ahead as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.
    “You never seem to get pissed.”
    Garrison was gratified his smile could mask so much. “My motto is simple. Don’t get mad. Just get even.”
    Malcolm shook his head. “I want both.”
    Garrison laughed. “Doesn’t always work that way.”
    A sleek black BMW pulled up next to the driver’s side of Garrison’s car. Angie Carlson, her eyes shielded with dark glasses, got out of the car. She moved around to the back of her car as Garrison shut off the engine and slid out. Malcolm followed and the two met Carlson.
    Carlson’s arms were crossed and she tapped her foot. Garrison noted tension around her mouth and the fact that she’d dropped a little too much weight. She usually never showed emotion but he guessed, like him, she paid a price somewhere along the line for the stoicism.
    “Thank you for the meeting, Detectives,” Carlson said.
    Garrison nodded. “Where’s your client?”
    She checked her watch. “He said he’d be here.”
    “Let’s hope he shows and is not wasting my time,” Garrison warned.
    A crease furrowed her brow. “I’ve already outlined the consequences. I don’t have time for wild-goose chases either.”
    “All right.”
    The trio waited several more minutes, an awkward strained silence hovering around them. Finally, Carlson’s phone rang. She glanced at the number, frowned and flipped it open. “Lenny, where are you?” She listened, her scowl deepening. “You said you’d be here!” As she listened she flexed and unflexed her fingers. “Sure, he’s standing right here.” She handed the phone to Garrison.
    He accepted it. “Detective Garrison.”
    “Is this really Garrison?” The mousy voice on the other end of the line sounded nervous and agitated.
    “It is.” He’d met Danvers once when he worked Burglary and could almost picture Danvers dragging his long, bone-thin fingers through his wispy black hair. No doubt he had a lit cigarette in his other hand, the ash dangling and ready to crumble. “What do you have for me, Mr. Danvers?”
    “I want a deal.”
    The muscle in the side of Garrison’s face tightened. “You said you were going to be here.”
    “And have you haul my bony ass to jail? Couldn’t take that chance. Give me a signed deal and then we’ll meet.”
    “Tell me what you have first. ”
    Danvers chuckled. “I want a deal in writing before I talk.”
    Garrison glanced at Carlson, who stared at him stone-faced. He cupped his hand over the receiver. “You said he was going to be here.”
    She shook her head. “That’s what he told me.”
    Garrison swallowed an oath and then said to Danvers, “Call me when you’re ready to talk. I’m giving you back to your attorney. ”
    Malcolm pushed away from the car. “I knew this wasn’t going to pan out.”
    Carlson lifted her chin and said loud enough for Danvers to hear, “He’s not my client. He never paid his last bill and I’ve never once said I’d continue to represent him.”
    “Looks like you’re screwed. No deal and no attorney. Have a nice life, Danvers.” Garrison hung