To: 
From: "Jay  P Hailey" 
Reply-To: trekcreative{at}yahoogroups.com



Title: Long Arms
Author: Jay P. Hailey (jayphailey{at}tic1.net) and K.A. Strickland Series:
Vista City/Four Corners
Part: 05/13
Rating [PG] (Some Violence)

 The ride on the plane was a new and different kind of hell for Karla.  She
wished now that she had packed her web belt and equipment away in her
luggage, but it was far too late for that now.  The belt dug into her
kidney.  It didn't hurt so much, But Karla could swear that she felt her
kidney beginning to shut down and poison her body.

 She wasn't used to sitting still for hours on end and that was difficult.
Her legs and butt cried out to just move a little bit.  It was hopeless,
however.  The plane was a large tube with seats jammed into it in a sightly
less efficient manner than the average city bus.  Despite the cries from
her lower body Karla didn't move.  There was no place to move to.

 Karla read the cheesy magazine that was left in the pocket of the seat
ahead by some crazed sadist.  Who else would think of placing a magazine
that was actually painfully boring in the only place that was worse?
Karla's choice was to either read the magazine and twitch, or stare off
into space until she went nuts and forced the rest of the plane's
passengers to kill her out of mercy.

 What was worse was that even with the cheesy magazine there was still
nothing for her second pair of hands to do.  She clasped the lower set
together until they became sweaty and distracting.  She switched hands
every so often, but stopped when she realized that she was experimenting,
trying to see how many different ways she hold the same magazine with
combinations of her hands.

 Worst by far was the tension in the atmosphere of the airplane.  People
stared as she came aboard in something like shock and horror.  No one said
anything but there seemed a distinctly unhealthy reticence in the air.
After about thirty minutes Karla recognized the feeling but couldn't do a
damned thing about it.  The people in the airplane weren't sure if her
mutation was contagious.  They couldn't really put the feeling into words
but they tended to lean away from her and attempted to breathe shallowly
when they remembered to.

 A few whispered conversations with flight attendants grew quite animated
but both sides were loath to let Karla know what the discussion was about.

 Several people merely stared, curious and yet unsure of what to do with it.

 During one conversation between people several rows ahead of her, Karla
could see the woman shoot angry glances at her and whisper forcefully at
her partner.  The man seemed at best unimpressed but that didn't stop his
partner from making her point.

 "It's just not right!"  The woman said bluntly.  Then, realizing she had
spoken audibly she blushed and stared hatefully at Karla before turning
around and ignoring the whole mess for the rest of the flight.

 Karla wanted to leap to her feet and ask the woman what the problem was.
Wasn't Karla people?  Wasn't Karla allowed to fly on their little planes or
clutter up their little world?  Why not, just for having the correct number
of arms?

 Karla had to forcefully abandon that train of thought.  Getting angry and
shrieking at the passengers could serve no useful purpose at all.  So Karla
resolutely dug into her deadly dull cheesy magazine and forced herself to
read one more article about retirement in Sun City Arizona.

-*-

 The jet from Atlanta rolled up to the gate right on time.  Rebecca and
Scott were lounging patiently outside of the gate waiting.  So was airport
security.  They allowed police officers on duty to carry weapons in locked
boxes passed the check points, but they resented it and spared no effort to
let the officers know this.

 Scott wondered if Sheriff Morgan would have four arms and what that would
be like.  Not too much though.  He was a professional and resolved to act like it.

 Sheriff Morgan came off the plane.  She was a coffee colored woman about
half a shade lighter than Rebecca.  She was trim, had an athletic figure
and was wearing dark brown trousers and a light brown shirt in a standard
police uniform pattern.  There were patches of the American Flag and the
Four Corners Sheriff's department on her upper arms.  She had a shiny eight
pointed star.  She had a web belt with standard police officer equipment on
it.  She also had a pistol holstered.  She was wearing a hat that wasn't
quite a brownie hat, but was hard to describe as anything else.  She was
wearing polarized wraparound shades.  She had a laptop computer slung over
her shoulder in a professional carrying case.

 She was less than an inch shorter than Scott at about 5' 9-1/2".

 Scott stepped forward and said "Sheriff Morgan?"

 Morgan stopped and looked.  What she saw was a man in late middle age with
distinguished silver hair, a generic dark blue suit and a Mickey Mouse tie.
He was trim and contained in a way that Morgan found hard to put a finger
on exactly.

 The other one was a shorter black woman with a light weight off white
jacket and lavender slacks.  The woman's right arm was stiff and hung
oddly. The hand that showed was silver and looked mechanical.

 "I am Sheriff Karla Morgan, Four Corners."  She introduced.  She had a
rolling southern lilt to her voice.

 "I'm Captain Ashby and this is Detective Rebecca Stevens."  He said.  He
didn't offer to shake hands.  Neither did the woman.

 "Pleased." Karla lied smoothly.

 "Let's go check out your luggage, and then we'll talk about
dinner."  Scott
said.  "Are you hungry, Sheriff?"

 Karla walked brusquely on towards the baggage claim.  "Not really.  What
can you tell me about the murder of Marlene?"

 Scott and Rebecca exchanged a look and then hurried off to catch up with
the Sheriff.

-*-

 They managed to get food without a fist fight ensuing.  Rebecca used her
cell phone to call the order ahead, and the matre'd met them out on the
curb outside the restaurant with their orders ready to go.  They swooped
up, paid by credit card and left, hardly slowing down.  Karla grudged the
time.

 "You left your detectives investigating the case alone?" Karla asked.

 "Sheriff, Angelo Mancuso has been a homicide detective for almost fifteen
years now.  You won't find anyone better."  Scott said.  "I'm
sure he has things well in hand."

-*-

 Mrs. Rios screamed her final scream of defiance as the forensics crew
entered the house.  Several uniforms were on hand to control the crowd and
the unruly Hispanic mother.

 Sonja grimaced as the crowd began to make ugly noises. "How much do want to
bet that the gun isn't in there?"

 Angelo wasn't listening.  "We do it by the book, Sonja. Gut feelings are
not admissible in court."  A half empty beer bottle crashed at their
feet. "But I'd have to say I agree with you."

-*-

 "Do you have any suspects?"  Karla asked.

 "Yes, we do."  Rebecca said around a mouthful of Mongolian beef.

 "How solid is the case?" Karla pressed.

 "We don't know.  Mancuso and Traveler were going to bring the suspect in
when we left to come and get you."  Scott said.

 "Hmmm."  Karla lapsed into thoughtful silence.

-*-

 "I didn't do nothing!"  Freddie shouted.

 "Really, Detective! How are these rail-roading tactics going to go?  Are
you going to pull out a rubber hose and start beating my client right here?
Would you be so kind as to wait until I can get a video camera?"
Freddie's public defense lawyer was unexpectedly competent and hadn't let
The VCPD get away with anything.

 Secretly, Angelo liked that.  If he could win a prosecution against the
guy, then he knew it would stick.  There was just one gaping hole in his
case.  "Where's the weapon Freddie?"

 "I don't know because I didn't DO NOTHING!" Freddie screamed.

 The door opened and Sonja came in with a piece of paper.  She looked grim.
She handed the paper to Angelo.

 Angelo read it.  There was no evidence of powder burns or residue anywhere
they had looked on Freddie.  On the hair next to the scalp, under the
fingernails in every invasive place Angelo could think of to look. Either
Freddie had received a crash course in forensics, or worse, he hadn't been
there when the gun was fired.

 Angelo quirked his lips. "Not a damned thing.  Are you sure?"

 Sonja nodded grimly.

 "Let's run the series again. This time let's look also for soap and other
evidence that he cleaned the evidence off." Angelo said.

 "What?"  The Defense lawyer yelled.  "Evidence that he cleaned off
evidence?  That'll never stand up in court and you know it!"

 "It won't show nothing anyway! I didn't do it!" Freddie pitched in.

 "I'm not looking for positive evidence counselor, I'm looking for negative
evidence."  Angelo said.

 "What?"

 "I figure that if the roots of his hair show the usual grime and sweat but
no parafin residue, then we have to lean away from the theory that he did
it."  Angelo said.

 "You're going to take evidence to try and clear my client?"  The Defense
lawyer was clearly confused.

 "No."  Angelo said sharply .  "I am taking evidence to
establish the truth.
Whether it clears your client or not is no concern of mine.  I am after the
truth, nothing more."

 "How long have you been a cop!?"  The Defense lawyer demanded.

-*-

 "May I ask you a question?"  Karla asked Rebecca.

 "Um... Sure.  I reserve the right not to answer, unless I'm under oath."
Rebecca said.

 Karla nodded.  "What's with your arm?"  Karla gestured towards Rebecca's
silver right arm.

 Rebecca smiled ruefully.  "It's a prosthetic."  She held it up. 
"I lost my
original arm about five years ago in an assassination attempt."

 "I've never seen a prosthetic limb like that before."  Karla
said eyeing it
closely.

 "It's experimental."  Rebecca said.  "Full production ought
to start next
year if everything goes well."

 "And you're still working as a Police Officer?"  Karla asked.

 "We sort of back doored Rebecca into the department." Scott
answered.  "She
was supposed to be a technical services and training officer.  We just
treated her like an active duty officer from the get go.  By the time the
brass noticed, it was too late to undo it."

 Karla eyes Scott.  "But she's..."

 "Handicapped?  Crippled?"  Rebecca supplied helpfully.

 "Well, yes."  Karla hated to admit it.  Her brain popped up with the
comment that Rebecca was shorter of arms than most people, but Karla
restrained herself.

 Scott smiled a bit and said.  "Well, it's not like we're going to let
little things get in the way of talent, after all."

 "Gee, thanks!" Rebecca grinned.  "A real compliment."

 "Oh, sure!" Scott came back.  "After all without you, who'd
tell us where
all the best Chinese restaurants are?"

 "A girl's got to have a hobby." Rebecca sniffed. "My turn,
Sheriff."

 "I stipulate the same conditions."

 "You're on.  Why are wearing those shades?"

 Karla pulled off the wrap around sunglasses and squinted at Rebecca until
her pupils contracted.  The setting sun was painfully bright.

 Rebecca peered carefully at her eyes.  "You have two pupils."

 Karla nodded.

 "Are you hiding them or are your eyes twice as sensitive?"  Rebecca asked

 "A bit of both."  Karla slipped the glasses back on. "We
wear them most of
the time in daylight back home.  We always wear them away from Four
Corners. Some sh... normal people find our double pupils disturbing.  We're
also finding that our old timers are suffering cataracts much more than the
normal average.  It seems that the double pupil lets in twice the sunlight
and twice the number of UV rays."

 "And that leads to double the damage to the retina and the rest of the
eye."  Scott surmised. "You must have excellent night vision."

 "Yes.  We have a natural form of light intensification."  Karla
said.  "But
it's not worth going blind over."

 "Guess not." Rebecca said.

-*-

 The sun was well down by the time the big maroon Crown Victoria pulled into
the VCPD HQ.

 "Look, you've had a long flight." Scott said.  "Are you
sure you don't want
to rest up before you go digging into this?"

 Karla shook her head.  "I have a job to do, Captain.  I intend to see it
through."

 Scott shook his head.  "Your job is to help us ascertain the truth, here,
Sheriff.  I don't want you messing up a case that my officers have well in
hand."

 "If they have it well in hand then I'll stand back and let them go.  But I
have learned that in matters that involve people from Four Corners, it
usually works out best for people from Four Corners to settle it."
Karla said. She opened the back door and crawled out of the car. 
"Will we be using this one later on?"

 "Yes.  This car is for my personal use."  Ashby said.

 "Good, then I'll leave my duffel there."  She turned and walked into the
station.

 "Hold on, hold on!" Rebecca had to scurry to catch up with her. 
"This
place is actually four different buildings tied together with a maze.  Let
me show you."

 "Thanks."  Karla managed.


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