Free Casting Bones by Don Bruns Page A

unattractive.
    â€˜I’d like to ask you some questions.’
    â€˜Sure.’ She motioned for him to sit across from her. ‘I’m not sure I can tell you that much. It happened several years ago. It happened, it’s over, and I’m here now.’ She sounded resigned.
    â€˜I looked it up and apparently you dropped the charges.’
    â€˜I only filed to get him to stop. It started with rude comments. He’d comment on the clothes I wore, then he’d talk to me about my body. He accused me of coming on to him, and believe me, Detective, if you’ve seen pictures of him, he wasn’t the most attractive man in the world. There was no way I ever would have made advances on that man. No way.’
    Archer had seen the real body. Water logged, and not a pretty sight.
    â€˜And then he kept commenting on my name. Said it sounded like a stripper’s name or a porn star.’
    He swallowed and glanced again at the name on her desk. Brandy Lane. Were all guys on the same wavelength?
    She studied Archer for a moment, then said, ‘The strange thing about all of that, was, I was certain he was gay. I think he used sexual harassment with women to cover that fact.’
    â€˜Gay?’
    â€˜Please, don’t take that in a wrong way. My thoughts, no proof. He was an asshole. Not because I thought he was on the other side.’
    â€˜So you filed charges?’
    â€˜I did. And I learned something, Detective Archer. You don’t file charges on a judge when you’re surrounded by other judges. Great lesson, but I wish I’d never been in a position to be schooled. I never should have made any waves. I know that now. A very bad decision. Judges in New Orleans are very powerful. I worked for one and had no idea. Honest to God, they will kick your ass.’
    He nodded, understanding only too well. Judges, officers on the force, they stood up for each other, right or wrong. No question about it. In Detroit, it involved the cop who was in business with Archer’s brothers. He fronted a drug running business, but as bad as the drug business was, the police fraternity did not approve of Quentin Archer’s crusade against Officer Bobby Mercer. The force as one stood up for Mercer. They made it very clear. And six months and twelve hundred miles later, here he was. Not guilty, but he was the one who exited. He’d been certain Mercer had committed murder, to cover his drug running, but that same police officer still walked the streets of Motown. Don’t go after a judge when you’re surrounded by other judges? The same philosophy seemed to apply to cops.
    â€˜Ever have any thoughts about getting revenge?’
    She smiled softly. ‘Sure. All the time.’
    â€˜Ever act on any of those thoughts?’
    â€˜No. Sometimes I wish I had. Guy was a son of a bitch. Actually, I probably would have, at one time. I might have killed him, Detective.’
    â€˜Why didn’t you?’
    â€˜Someone else beat me to it.’
    The parking ticket was wedged between the windshield wiper and the glass. Archer ripped it out and thought about tearing it into a thousand pieces. Some meter maid had already gone out of her way to incite his wrath.
    The Chevy was sticky hot inside as he drove back to the office, both windows down. Parking the car, he took the elevator to the third floor. At his desk he sorted through handwritten notes and keyed them into his computer. Scrawled notes. The department had recently bought new recording devices but Archer worked better off his paper trail. Half of his life was trying to organize things. Lost in his own world of reconstructing his morning, Archer jerked when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
    â€˜Found a gun, partner.’
    Archer turned and stared at Strand. A sick little grin was on his partner’s face and Archer knew immediately.
    â€˜Recently fired?’
    â€˜How did you know?’
    â€˜How long can you hold