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He seems to think on it. “No… although Tabor blew her a kiss or something in the elevator, but that’s not sexual assault.”
“Grinding his dick against her when he cuffed her is. Telling her he’ll let her off for a blow job is.”
“What the fuck?” Peter's eyes widen in genuine shock and disgust. "Jesus.”
His reaction eases some of the tension in my shoulders. At least he understands that cops can’t engage in this behavior toward anyone, including those we believe are involved in crime.
“If they fuck up our case…” He shakes his head. “I’ll let his superior know and include it in the report.”
“Thanks for taking care of it.”
“Of course. I know we've been pushing hard on this case, but what happened today… that's not how we do things. We're better than that."
It’s a relief to hear him say that, because there have been moments when he’s seemed on the verge of going off the rails. Although that’s usually about his father’s case.
"I'm glad you feel that way, Peter. It's important that we stay on the right side of the line."
He nods emphatically. "Absolutely. We’re a good team. I’ve got your back on this. Just like you have mine. We’ll get the D’Amatos the right way.”
I don’t know if I’m reading something into his words out of my own worry or not, but a part of me wonders if he knows about me and Lana and is asking what I’ll do if push comes to shove.
"Of course. I've got your back."
“Well, I’ll deal with this. It’s not a good look for the cops to be doing what they did today right in front of an office full of people. Makes us look less than our best. It matters that people believe we’re here to serve justice.”
“I agree. Thanks again. Keep me posted will you?”
“Sure. What are you on today?”
The last thing I need him to know is that I’m looking into Lazaro’s disappearance. “Just some leg work on a stolen vehicle that might be related to an abduction.” I hope I’m vague enough that he doesn’t realize whose abduction.
“I’d offer to help, but I’ve got a husband with a knife in his back that his wife says she has no idea how it got there.” He rolls his eyes.
“Keep an open mind. Lots of people are backstabbers.”
He laughs.
I go to my desk, reviewing my files, then burying it away so Peter doesn’t happen upon them. Then I leave, heading to the shop in the outskirts of Chicago to talk to the witness who believes they saw Lazaro’s abduction.
The shop's faded sign and weathered exterior don't inspire much confidence. As I push open the door, a bell chimes overhead. An older woman looks up from behind the counter, her eyes narrowing with curiosity.
"Can I help you?" she asks, her voice rough from years of cigarettes.
I flash my badge. "Detective Henry Lutz. I'm here about a potential kidnapping that occurred outside your shop about three years ago."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Three years ago? That’s a long time ago."
"New information has come to light. I was hoping you could tell me what you remember."
She shrugs, leaning on the counter. "It was a while ago. Not sure I remember all the details."
“That’s fine. What do you remember?”
“Just a bunch of guys beating the crap out of a man and tossing him into a van.”
“Can you describe the victim?”
She shrugs. “Maybe six feet. Dark hair. I don’t know. Regular.”
