Taking the Highway

ANDRE EASED OPEN THE door and moved around the corner, raising his hands to elbow level. He wondered about the wisdom of surprising a guy like Talic. Wondered even more as Talic held a large and unfamiliar handgun—probably military issue—on him.

“Gun,” Talic said.

“I thought that’s what it was.” Andre strolled forward, still holding his hands at that negligent height. He glanced around at the spartan lack of decoration in Talic’s apartment. There were a few lonely nails on the walls and two empty shelves. Had they once held trophies, medals, maybe a photo of his unit?

Two wine glasses sat on the spotless expanse of kitchen counter next to a recently-opened bottle. “Expecting someone?”

“Saw you sneaking into the building.” In a single fluid movement, Talic safed the gun and placed it on the counter, still within reach. He poured the wine, rolling his wrist with a connoisseur’s ease over each glass. He offered one to Andre. “Did you come here alone, or should I pour another?”

“Alone,” Andre said. “This isn’t department business.”

Talic grunted. “Meaning it’s personal.”

Andre regarded the wine in his glass—nearly as dark as the night sky beyond. The City Center lights below were the only stars available and more easily navigated. “Not the way you mean. You saved Sofia’s life. Maybe mine too. I’m here to thank you. Mostly.” He sniffed the glass and sipped. Smooth. Oaky. He glanced at the label. “I didn’t know Leelenau Cellars made Pinot Noir.”

“They don’t anymore. Been saving this one for a special occasion.” Talic took a generous sip. “Mostly?”

Andre raised his glass. “I’d say the summit is off to a successful start. The city,” he said with dramatic irony, “is saved.”

A laugh from Talic, only a tinge of bitterness. “For now.”

“I’m serious. Don’t come back.” He regretted having to say it out loud. Talic wasn’t a man to bear threats, but Andre had to be sure there was no room for misunderstanding. It was only a matter of time before the newly appointed investigative committee got around to interviewing Jae Geoffrey Talic. Better for the city—better for everyone—if he just disappeared. Unavailable in the permanent sense.

Another part of Andre’s conscience nagged at him. He wasn’t the only one who owed Talic a debt. Thanks for killing those who needed it, was something no one was ever going to put on a cityscape holo banner. He glanced around Talic’s sad, empty apartment, and something told him that it always looked like this, that Talic was always ready to leave.

Andre gestured with his glass. “How’s the leg?”

Another man would have showed off his bandaged ankle with bravura. Talic just took another mouthful of wine. “Hurts.”

He nodded. Hospitalization was out of the question under the circumstances. Andre had to be content with the fact that Talic could walk and stand without apparent agony. He continued to tell himself that his conscience didn’t bother him about that either.

“Where will you go?”

Talic leveled a gaze at him. “I have some contacts in other countries. Don’t worry, LaCroix. It won’t be anywhere nearby.”

He’ll be in Canada. Andre had already looked into the cross-border exercises Talic led. He had a considerable network of relationships among the Mounties as well as the Provincial police forces. He wouldn’t go far, just far enough.

Talic drained his glass and set it on the counter. He waited for Andre to do the same. And waited, eyebrows raised in question.

“That glaze dealer in the zone. Sufek Reem.”

“That always stuck sideways with you, didn’t it?”

“Was it you? Did you take the shot?”

Talic blew out a breath through his nose. “No. I don’t even know exactly who did. I was just closing ranks, LaCroix. Protecting my team.”

Like I’m doing now. Andre drained his glass and set it on the counter next to Talic’s. “I can live with that.” He made for the door.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Have you decided what you are, yet?”

“You mean, cop or fourth?”

“You’ve pretty much proven you can’t be both.”

Andre rested his hand on the apartment door and thought about the media, how they were tripping over themselves to pour the love on fourths. Video clips of Bob and his friends linking arms to close the on-ramps were still in heavy circulation on national and even international news. He thought about the hard work ahead to clean up the mayor’s office now that Mother Mad had been arrested, and the just plain grunt work that the police patrol would have to do as the public slowly regained its trust in Overdrive.

He thought about the city as a whole and how much he needed to be a part of it. Sure, he could be both cop and fourth. He was for three years. But fourthing had made him a shitty cop, and the last thing Detroit needed was more shitty cops. He looked back at Talic. “I’ve decided.”

“And?”

He lifted a corner of his mouth and tilted his head to the side. “I love this town.”

Talic pushed his glass away, parking it next to the gun. “Love can be a bitch.”

Andre smiled ruefully, thinking about the events of the last two weeks. “Only if you do it right.”

He walked out of the apartment and down to Sofia’s waiting car.