Alli by Kurt Zimmerman Page B

coincidences or robberies where nothing was taken.”
    “They did take his briefcase, and tried to frame me with it,” Randy added.
    “Right, so that pretty much rules out the robbery thing, and ties the reason he was murdered in with something you were doing. And the only thing you have been doing out of the ordinary recently is poking around the Call Center, correct? Since Doctor Johnson was involved in the Call Center from the beginning, he probably knew something that someone else did not want you to know.”
    “So what else was in the briefcase?” Randy wondered out loud. “There must have been something in there the killer wanted you to find in my apartment."
    “That’s the strange thing,” Michelle continued. “The briefcase was empty, except for what looked like personal papers. Nothing really work-related, a couple of printouts on ancient philosophers, Plato, Socrates. He was fascinated with those kinds of things, searching for answers to cosmic questions I guess. Philosophical stuff.”
    “It sounds to me like the killer took out whatever the good doctor was going to share with me that night,” Randy said. “And don’t forget the other Doctor- Moscovich. Somebody didn’t want me talking to him either. That’s why I’m driving that gas-guzzling beast parked over there.” Randy motioned toward the Hummer. “It drinks twice as much gas as my old Suburban.”
    “That looks like one of Carl’s special vehicles,” Michelle said with a smile. “He had several of those at one time. In fact, I think he sold one or two of them to pay for our divorce.” Michelle focused her attention back on Randy and continued- “Your friend is really one of the good guys, you know. He would do just about anything to help someone. Loyal to a fault. We would still be married if Carl was really the marrying type. I guess we live in two far too distant worlds.”
    “So what’s your story?” Randy asked. “You don’t seem like a typical cop. Why are you a big city homicide detective instead of a middle-class mom, driving her kids to soccer and ballet practice?”
    “A career in law enforcement was not my plan when I joined the force,” she said. “My plan was to work a few years and then start a family, but after spending a couple of years as a beat cop, and getting to know the people in this city, I couldn’t see bringing any more children into this world. I saw the painful cost a family pays when a child is injured, crippled, or worst of all, gunned down in the street for no reason. I guess I wasn’t ready to pay that price. I know there are plenty of other rewards when it comes to raising kids, but from my perspective, from the street perspective, I couldn’t bring myself to risk the loss. I have seen good people turn hard and resentful when everything is taken from them. It was not a place that I wanted to go.”
    “Let’s take a walk down the beach,” Randy suggested, breaking an awkward silence. “It is too nice of a day to sit around here.” He jogged over to retrieve the Hummer keys and returned. Michelle was still sitting on the picnic table bench, staring out at the ocean.
    “Snap out of it, beautiful,” he said, while passing by the table. “Let’s go grab some fresh air.”
    Michelle snapped out of her trance and followed him the dozen yards to the ocean’s edge. “Tell me your story, Randy. Carl says you both went through Agency Farm Training together. What happened after that?”
    “I threw myself into the job, I guess. We were doing important work, or at least I felt like we were. I was stationed all over, but primarily in Eastern Europe, Germany, Turkey. I spent most of my time supporting other agents out in the field, listening to radio traffic, fabricating documents, reading satellite data, filing reports. I’m not sure what happened to the years, but I put in ten and left. That’s about it.”
    “So, you never have an occasion to kil-“
    “No, I never killed anyone! Why does