Random Victim by Michael A. Black Read Free Book Online Page B

who’s half-Mexican?
    “You know anything about this fucking case?” Ryan asked, taking one more drag before stubbing out his cigarette.
    “Not much. Lady judge disappeared about six months ago. Discovered her body in a pond recently, stuffed in some kind of trunk.
     Never found her car anywhere. Shay made the incident into a campaign issue, saying it pointed to O’Hara’s incompetence.”
    “You got it,” Ryan said. “This fucking case is colder than Chicago in January. No way we’ll solve it. Ain’t gonna happen.”
     He hunched forward, so close that Leal could smell the booze on the other man’s conspiratorial whisper. “But that’s just it.
     They expect us to fall on our faces on this one. We’re getting set up to get hung out to dry, Leal. You, me, and the two inexperienced
     tokens they’ve thrown us in with. That’s why you got the broad and I got the dog.”
    Leal leaned back slightly. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
    “Shit. And maybe we’ll figure out who killed Jimmy Hoffa, too.” Ryan took a more substantial slug of his new drink, and began
     fumbling in his pocket for his smokes again. “But we gotta try, right?” He stuck another cigarette between his lips. “Yeah,
     sometimes you just gotta take a shot. Go for the gold, you know?”
    “Yeah, I hear you.”
    Leal glanced at his watch. It was almost four. It’s been a day of surprises, he thought. Might as well go for the gold myself.
    “Look, Ryan—”
    “Call me Tom, Francis.”
    “Okay, Tom,” Leal said, standing up. “And it’s Francisco, or Frank. I got to make a call. Be back in a minute.”
    Ryan nodded his head toward the drinks on the bar. “Okay. I’ll hold your place for you.”
    Leal grabbed some of the change off the bar and headed toward the pay phones by the washrooms. A bleary-eyed guy stumbled
     out of the men’s room as Leal brushed by him in the narrow hallway. He searched his notebook list of phone numbers, deposited
     the coins, and dialed. After several transfers she finally came on the line.
    “ASA Devain.”
    “Ms. Devain, it’s Sergeant Frank Leal. I was at the grand jury with you this morning.”
    After a pause, she said, “Right. What can I do for you, Sergeant?”
    “Well, I know this may seem kind of abrupt, but I remembered that you said you were getting transferred…” He felt the
     awkward silence as he searched for the right words. “And I didn’t know how to get a hold of you after today.” More silence.
     “So I was just wondering if you’d like to maybe go out for a drink or dinner or something.”
    After another pause, her voice came back to him. “Well, I don’t know. I’m kind of beat tonight…”
    “Oh, okay. Where did you say you were getting transferred?”
    “Felony Review. And I don’t have my new voice mail number yet,” she said. “So where did you end up? Back in uniform?”
    “No, actually I kind of lucked out. I got assigned to a special task force. We’ll be working the Walker case. You familiar
     with it?”
    “Yeah, sure. I knew her slightly.” She paused again, then said, “Why don’t I give you my home number. Maybe we can make it
     another time.” Leal scribbled the number down in his notebook as she repeated it for him. “But like I said, I’ll be on call
     a lot, and I’m not sure what my hours are going to be.”
    “Okay.”
    “So give me a call sometime and maybe we can set something up. And congratulations on your new assignment.”
    “Thanks,” he said. “If you’re up tonight check out the news. We had a televised press conference today. Maybe you’ll see us.”
    “Great. I’ll have to try to remember to look for it. I’ve got to go, so maybe I’ll talk to you again sometime.” Her voice
     sounded less than enthusiastic.
    That went real well, Leal thought, chastising himself for dropping the ball as he hung up the phone. He went into the washroom,
     urinated, and returned to the bar.
    “What’s the matter? You look like