Chapter 12

Bryant was on an airplane, headed to Columbia when the reality of the situation hit him. The young woman had overheard his conversation with the bartender and set up Mayfield. A guy like Mayfield could probably take a lot of ribbing but to have an attractive female question his sexuality would provoke a response. Her companion obviously knew how to take care of himself. He had risked an assault conviction to help him put Mayfield in prison.

Jan was incredulous when Bryant had phoned her. She had quickly made arrangements for Bryant to catch the first flight out of the airport in Covington, Ky., and for the South Carolina State Police to pick him up at the airport and usher him to the state crime lab. Bea Harrison had been pulled from slumber by his phone call and had grudgingly agreed to go into the lab to perform a preliminary test on the bloody rag that Bryant carried with him.

The Cincinnati police had secured the shirt that the man had worn and a sample of blood from the victor's hands. Bryant had slipped away in the confusion with his prize.

Bryant was met by the South Carolina State Police and was introduced to his contact from the state crime lab for the first time.

Bea Harrison was far younger than Bryant had expected. She was probably in her mid-twenties, certainly no older than that. She was also six foot tall and blonde.

She gave Bryant a frown when he handed over the sealed evidence bag. She signed the sheet on the outside and opened it before going to her task.

"You are well beyond a simple drink, sir," she said. "I have had calls from half of the Appalachians asking for my help."

"Sorry about that," Bryant said sincerely. "This is a lot bigger than what I thought when I made my promise."

"We'll just add breakfast to the tab," Bea told him. "You can start the repayment plan as soon as I'm done here."

"I can't," Bryant said sheepishly. "I've got an ADA waiting with a judge to sign the arrest warrant and to issue a detainer on the kid. As soon as you have anything resembling a match, I'm back on an airplane."

"You're killing me," Bea laughed. "Fine, use me for the dirty work and then toss me aside."

"I promise, you are helping to put some very, very bad people away," Bryant told her.

"I've already got my props from a lady detective and a state trooper in West Virginia," she replied. "I was hoping for something more tangible from my homeboy."

"As soon as I have the cuffs on Jonathan Mayfield, I will come back up here and treat you to dinner," Bryant promised.

"And breakfast," Bea shot back with a grin. "Actually, I'm going to change our bargain. I want a one-week invite to vacation in Emerald Cove."

"You got it," Bryant answered.

"Good, put me down for next month," the tech told him. "I'll expect you to be my personal tour guide as well as providing lodging and at least one really good meal. God knows I can't afford resort prices on my salary."

"Uh, the food is no problem," Bryant said. "But I sort of live out of a hotel room."

"All the better," Bea said, wiggling her eyebrows. "You're tall enough that I can even wear high heels when you take me out."

"I will make all the arrangements," Bryant said. "How much longer?"

"Impatient, aren't you?" the lab assistant joked. "It'll be about forty-five minutes before I get the results and then it will take me about a half an hour to compare them with what I have on file and write a report."

"Well, I don't suppose it would hurt for me to treat you to breakfast then," Bryant said. "I'll call Ally and have her get the warrants rolling."

"You're absolutely positive this is going to match?" Bea asked.

"I am!" Bryant confirmed.

Bryant found out more about Bea Harrison over a quick breakfast at a chain restaurant.

"I pitched for Clemson for three years," Bea replied when Bryant asked if she played basketball.

"Where is Clemson from here?" Bryant wondered.

"Seriously?" Bea asked. It was the second largest university in the state, behind only the University of South Carolina in Columbia.

"I'd been in the state about four days the first time I spoke to you," Bryant confirmed with a laugh. "That's why I'm still living in a hotel room. I spent the first month getting the department cleaned up for the new chief then started on this investigation."

"I thought you were the chief down there," Bea said, raising her eyebrows.

"I was when I spoke to you," Bryant answered. "I'm still the Chief of Detectives."

"But being new to the area, you don't have much push with the staties yet?" Bea wondered.

"The staties?" Bryant asked rhetorically. "I know Captain Wilson of the local detachment and I've met a couple of others. But we don't play beer-league softball together if that's what you're asking."

Bea nodded thoughtfully.

"I was reading the state LEO LEO board last week," she finally admitted.

"LEO LEO?" Bryant asked. He was pretty certain he knew what one of the acronyms meant but he had no idea of the other.

"Law Enforcement Officer Local Employment Opportunities," Bea explained. "It's an online job board. I check it out every now and then. I guess I should have thought about your rank when I saw the Chief's job in Emerald Cove listed after I spoke to you. Anyway, there is a field tech opening for the detachment. I'd prefer the field to the lab – particularly if I can live near the beach. Do you think you or your chief might put in a good word for me with Captain Wilson?"

"I can definitely tell him that you've been willing to go above and beyond anything I've seen from any lab tech," Bryant offered with genuine appreciation. "I can't speak for your field skills but I can definitely attest to your work ethic. I didn't know Wilson had lost anyone from his forensic unit."

Bea rolled her eyes again and shook her head.

"Rumor is he's coming to work for you guys," she informed Bryant. "The Emerald Cove PD, I mean. I saw last month that you guys had an opening in your detective section for someone crime scene certified. I thought about applying but I didn't want to be accused of sleeping my way to the top."

Bryant frowned, not only at Bea's last comment but about the fact that someone had been hired into the detective section without his knowledge. Then he realized he'd been in West Virginia or Ohio for the past month. Jan had slots to fill and she couldn't wait for him to conclude this case.

"I guess I've been out of the loop," he said with a frown. "This case ... I don't know ... it got to me."

"I've only seen snippets and it got to me, too," Bea told him. "I pieced some things together from the varying places I got calls on your behalf. It sounds like you've put a really nasty group of guys out of business and made things a lot safer in half a dozen different cities."

"But not the one I work for," Bryant admitted ruefully. "I've spent a hell of a lot of city resources closing cases in Cincinnati, Huntington, Marietta, Gallipolis and Point Pleasant but I really haven't done a damned thing for Emerald Cove."

"You will," Bea said with a firm nod. "If nothing else the citizens know that they have a damned good policeman down there running their detective bureau."

Bryant's conversation was interrupted by his cell phone. His caller ID told him it was Allyson Granger.

"Hey, Ally," Bryant said amiably. He hadn't spent much time around his ex-wife even before he headed north but their conversations had been cordial. "What's up?"

"How are things up there?" Allyson asked.

"I should have a report for you in about twenty minutes," Bryant said, glancing at his watch. "Bea said the analysis will be done in a couple of minutes and it will take her about fifteen minutes to compare the data."

"We have a problem," Allyson told him. "I want you to go ahead to the airport. I'll fax the warrant to Hamilton County along with the detainer."

"Jan said she worked it out with the Cincinnati cops that Mayfield wasn't going to arraigned until later tonight," Bryant said.

"Yeah, well, the DA's office up there bumped him up the docket," Allyson informed him. "I've tried the duty DA a dozen times and he never picks up. His office said they have given him my message but he's refusing to call me back. I'm guessing that Little Johnny will be bailed out and in Bermuda by tonight."

"That son of a bitch," Bryant swore. "I swear to God. I have never seen a place where every fucking cop seems to have his hand out for a bribe."

"The Cincinnati cops are going to lose Mayfield in the system," Allyson said. "They're playing ball now that they know what's at stake. Right now, he's being transferred around the county in a paperwork SNAFU. But I want you on scene to make sure it's on the record that there is an active detainer on the guy."

She let out a long breath.

"Bryant, you're positive that this is the guy?" she asked.

"Ally, I am so sure that I was willing to take extraordinary measures if I had to," Bryant admitted in a low voice.

"Then I'm going to jump start the process and tell the judge the DNA matched," she said, offering no comment on what Bryant had just told her. "You can head to the airport. Have the lab tech send me the report for verification when it's done. Tell her I want everything in perfect order. OK?"

"She's a pro, Ally," Bryant said. "She understands what's been happening up there. There won't be any mistakes."

"Good," Allyson replied. "I have one more question. This is just between us. I will never say a word about it to anyone else."

Bryant steeled himself for the question that he was certain was coming.

"The sample you got, that was legit, right?" she asked.

"Completely," Bryant replied, letting the air out of his lungs slowly. "I had no idea of what was happening until it was done. I can say, without hesitation, that I did not encourage any civilian to act as an agent of the police. I will also say that I believe the gentleman who secured the sample for us – and his female counterpart – knew exactly what they were doing. But I did not encourage it any form or fashion."

"That's all I needed to hear," Ally said, her voice lighter. "Now why are we still talking? You have a plane to catch."

Bea Harrison promised a preliminary report to Allyson Granger and Jan Elliot before Bryant's plane was wheels up. In return, Bryant promised to stop in Columbia to treat Bea to dinner on his way back through and to talk to Ron Wilson about the opening on his staff.

Bryant slept on the flight back. If the Mayfield boy was released – either with charges dropped or after bond was set – Bryant knew the kid would disappear. He held no illusions that Mayfield would change his behavior. More women would find themselves in peril, maybe in a foreign country or maybe right back home in Gallia County (where it appeared that the Mayfield family was protected by those whose palms they greased).

Bryant needed a shower and to change his clothes. His grooming had been a lax since he began his surveillance. He would take whore baths (arm pits, private parts and a bunch of cologne) but it had been two days since he had returned to his hotel room for a full shower. It had also been two days since he'd changed his clothing.

Apparently Jan had anticipated Bryant's behavior because she had someone drop off Bryant's dress blue uniform and fresh underwear and socks at the airport. It appeared that she had even polished his shoes. He found a towel and toiletries and a note from Jan that told him she expected him to look and behave as a professional at Mayfield's arraignment. She put a smiley face beside her signature at the bottom (which he didn't understand).

Bryant adjourned to a restroom in the airport where he took another bath in the sink. This time he dipped his head under the water to wet it, poured shampoo in his hand and then scrubbed his short hair for a moment before returning his head beneath the water. He felt a lot better when he toweled his hair dry. It took Bryant a moment to open his garment bag and pull out his uniform. He'd worn it only once – on the day Jan Elliot was introduced as Emerald Cove's Chief of Police. He couldn't even recall if he'd had it cleaned afterward.

Bryant looked like a new man when he exited the bathroom and walked to the outer concourse of the Greater Cincinnati Airport. He saw two men turn their gaze to him as he headed toward the rental car counters.

"Chief Hawkins?" a uniformed man asked as he walked over.

Bryant carried his uniform cap beneath his left arm as was standard. The uniformed man carried his in an identical way. Bryant nodded and reached for his identification.

"No need," the man said. "I'm Sgt. Mike Mitchell of the Ohio State Highway Patrol. This is Lt. Ed Strelzcyzk of the Violent Crime Unit of the Cincinnati Police Department. We're here to escort you to the hearing."

Bryant lifted his eyes in question.

"I've been faxed a copy of the detainer," Strelzcyzk said as he directed him to the exit. "I also have the preliminary DNA results from your lab down there. I'm sure you're aware that we have an open case in Hamilton County from this source."

"Yes," Bryant said.

"You didn't mention that when you came to see us earlier," Strelzcyzk accused.

"I gave you the name of the suspect and the name of the victim in my case," Bryant countered. "You have three hundred officers and one hundred fifty civilian aides. I have me and a murder to solve. I didn't want to get into a jurisdictional pissing contest with you. I put in the time and the effort to solve this case. Your case has already been moved to the back burner. If you had run Mary Beth Brockleman's name through CODIS, you'd have had your hit. If your division had shown even the slightest inclination of getting off their asses to assist me, I'd have given you chapter and verse. But your guys patted me on the head and told me to stay out trouble. So I figured 'Screw you'."

Strelzcyzk frowned but nodded his agreement. He had chewed out the duty sergeant and the detective Bryant had spoken to for failing to follow through on the information he'd offered. Mary Beth Brockleman was a resident of Hamilton County when she was murdered. They owed it to her to help find her killer – or that's how Strelzcyzk felt about the matter.

"We're not going to fight extradition," Strelzcyzk said. "I spoke to my chief about how this was handled and he wasn't impressed. So you get first bite. If he doesn't get the death penalty or life without parole, we'll put a detainer on him and bring him back here to serve his sentence whenever he's done down there."

"Thanks," Bryant said. "I apologize for how I handled things with your guys. They pissed me off. To tell you the truth, this isn't the first place I've stopped. I've had nothing but cooperation everywhere else. The Marshall University Police Service, the Huntington Police Department and the West Virginia State Police did whatever they could to assist."

"And they reaped the benefits," Mitchell put forth from the driver's seat. "Huntington closed an open rape case. The Meigs County sheriff's office closed an open rape. I spoke to a guy in Columbus last night and they were able to arrest a stalker. The staties over in the Mountain State got to close the book on a home invasion killing. I told you, Ed, this is not some isolated incident. This is a ring of rapists and we have the last one sitting in jail awaiting arraignment."

Bryant noticed the state policeman sped up and hit his lights as soon as they crossed the Ohio River from Covington, Ky., on Interstate 75. He barely slowed when they got off the highway and headed downtown.