Durango – Installment 6

Durango

By

D.M. KURTZ

Installment 6: Time For Change

With his notes and all collected evidence set into a single cardboard box ready for filing in the basement of the precinct he called home, Rodie sighed deeply. There was a sense of finality to his placing the lid atop that container, one that he was far from ready to accept.

Stokes, Harvey and Marcus: all the links were gone, leaving a disturbing and disheartening empty in their wake. Valenci was continuing the investigation, but Rodie had been sidelined, stripped of badge and gun, at least temporarily. It was a show for the media, really, and one that Rodie understood even if he very much disliked that particular decision. The Captain and the interim DA needed someone or something on which to place blame, if only to assuage the angry and ferocious outlets that fought each other for the tiniest scraps of information on what had proven to be the most high-profile case anyone in Durango had experienced.

Still, Rodie had no intention of giving up the chase. The copies in his briefcase would ensure that he could continue researching and digging from the comfort of his own home. He would need to be careful, though, if he wanted to keep his predicament temporary. Thankfully, he had an ace up his sleeve, one he had resisted utilizing before out of respect for Don’s memory, but he felt as though he no longer had any choice. If a brief meeting over coffee could bring new information to light and help him end this bungled disaster that had consumed his life in recent days, it was well worth offending the dead.

After passing the box off to one of the academy grunts for processing, he nodded to Valenci and exited the building via the east staircase. That was a habit formed by following Don for three years. The man had taken precaution to a new level that had bordered on paranioa, for which Rodie had consistently teased his former partner. Now, though, it was one of many practices that he had himself adopted. Ever was he careful to watch over his shoulder and scan every direction for even a hint of danger.

It still felt odd to drive Don’s police cruiser solo, and he sometimes felt as though he should have taken Valenci’s offer to retire the vehicle and use another from the lot, but Rodie thought he should keep it as a sort of salute to Don’s service. As he shifted into drive, his eyes were drawn to the picture he kept of he and his former partner at the officers retreat last summer. Don was flashing that ridiculous grin with one arm wrapped around Rodie’s own nonchalant shoulders while flames from a grill flared up in the background.

“Sorry, brother,” Rodie mumbled. “You never wanted him dragged into any of this, but it’s the only way.”

He grunted and put the pedal to the floor with enough force to let tires screech for a moment before he relaxed and began to cruise at five over the forty mile per hour speed limit. Roughly six minutes later and he was approaching one of the tables set up outside Durango Joe’s cafe. The contact he was meeting rose as Rodie closed the distance and greeted him with a firm handshake. His sharp features and hazel eyes still struck Rodie as incredible, further lending credence to the mystery that surrounded the man.

“Thanks for meeting me,” Rodie began as he took a seat across the table. “Don was… Well, very clear about keeping you away from any of this, especially with how tied up you must be with the trial after…” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I just don’t see any other way. I need your help, Jess.”

Copyright © 2018 D.M. Kurtz

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