Shake Down Dead by Diane Morlan Page A

got
home. Cloud cover kept it from getting any colder. Decker was
sitting on the red cedar swing hanging from the ceiling of my front
porch when I pulled into the driveway.
    “Hi,” I greeted him when I stepped out
of my car. “What are you doing here in the middle of the day? Did
you solve Whitney’s case already, Mr. Detective?”
    “No, I need to talk to you.”
    Looking at his face, I realized that he
was dead serious. “You sound grim, what’s wrong?”
    He patted the seat next to him and I
sat down, twisting a little so I could see his face. The last time
I’d seen him this upset was when my car had been sideswiped on my
way home one night.
    “You know how I’m always telling you to
stop snooping into my cases?” he asked.
    I nodded, thinking that he didn’t
really want an answer.
    “What would you think if I asked you to
help me figure out who killed Whitney?”
    “Really? What happened to ‘Keep your
nose out of police business?’ And what about Jacobs, will he be
okay with it?”
    “Jennifer, Jacobs can’t know we’re
doing this. I’ve been taken off the case and put on
leave.”
    “Whatever for?” Decker was a great
detective; they wouldn’t take him off the case unless it was
personal. I felt a rock in the pit of my stomach. Had he had a
relationship with Whitney?
    Decker heaved a big sigh and said, “We
found Whitney’s cell phone in her pocket. I was paging through it
looking at her contact list to see who her friends were. Then I
checked out her Memo. People put the darndest things on those
lists.”
    I knew what he meant. Mine had the
dimensions of my dining room table, since I was contemplating
crocheting a tablecloth for it. It also included passwords for
websites I frequented.
    “We came across one memo that appears
to be a list of names. They’re dollar signs behind some of them. My
name was on the list.”
    “Why?’ I asked, blowing on my hands to
keep them warm.
    Decker took a pair of gloves from his
pocket and handed them to me. “I think she was going to blackmail
me and the others on the list. I think the names with numbers next
to the dollar signs might be people she’s already
contacted.”
    “Did she contact you?”
    “Hell, no! I didn’t even know
her.”
    “Then why would she have your name on
her list?
    “I think it’s about Chicago, and why I
moved here.”
    I waited for him to continue while he
sat there leaning over, looking at the floor and wringing his
hands. Finally, I said softly, “Do you want to tell me about
it?”
    “No, I don’t want to, but I guess you
have a right to know.”
    He ran his hands through his hair and
began telling me what had happened in Chicago that eventually
brought him to Hermann, Minnesota.
    “When I was a detective with the Cook
County Sheriff’s Department, my partner and I worked under cover
for almost a year putting together a case against the leader of one
of the major gangs in the county.
    “I couldn’t go near my home so I found
cafes and other places around the city to meet my wife and infant
son whenever I could. I just wanted to keep my family safe. You
know, I didn’t want some gang-banger finding out that I had a wife
and kid.
    I nodded when he looked at me, but
decided not to say anything. He grabbed my gloved hand, looked down
at his feet and continued.
    “Victoria wanted me to leave the police
department. Like many other cops’ wives, she didn’t understand that
being a cop is more than a job. Sister Bernie is the only person
not on the force that understands. It’s like a calling. This one
case took over my life and, I’m afraid, it was ruining my
marriage.”
    Decker dropped my hand, stood up and
began to pace the small porch. “One day she insisted we meet. I
didn’t have time to set up the usual secure location, but she
insisted that we meet that afternoon. I found a coffee shop in a
south suburb. She hadn’t brought the baby. She was there to give me
an ultimatum. Choose her and the baby or