The Cycle of Trust

by Ed Teja

The morning sky was unusually clear. Standing at the end of the deserted pier watching the sun rise, she heard nothing but the incoming tide slapping against the pilings below and the squabbling of three seagulls.

Her back against the wall of an abandoned restaurant near the end of the pier, she waited for Jackson. Arriving early gave her time to stake out this vantage point, but the damp cold cut into her. Annoyingly, Jackson was late.

She passed the time watching the seagulls fight over a piece of fish. One had found it and scooped it up. Immediately, the others began harassing it, keeping it from leaving with its prize. With the other attacking, the bird dropped the treasure, and another swooped down to grab it. No sooner did he have it in his beak than the third dive-bombed him, attempting to wrest it away.

As if there were no other fish to eat.

She watched, knowing Jackson would come. For a crook, he was trustworthy. Besides, the money she’d promised him was safely tucked into a deep pocket of her leather coat.

A dim figure moved up the pier, coming toward her, reflecting streaks of low morning light. She stiffened. This person was too big to be Jackson. Her hand moved under her jacket and her fingers tingled with the reassuring cool touch of the pistol tucked in its holster at the small of her back.

The figure walked past her. “Sharne?” The man’s voice, once she didn’t know, whispered.

She drew the gun and stepped out, pressing the barrel to the back of his head. He stopped still.

“Where is Jackson?” she asked.

“Dead,” the man said calmly.

“Did you kill him?”

The man held up something. A badge. “He got caught opening a safe. The owner called me, and I arrested Jackson. When we got to my car, he told me what was in that safe, what it was worth, that it wasn’t traceable.”

“And you believed him? That it had value?”

“When he told me who hired him to get it, I did.”

She sighed. Jackson’s big mouth.

One of the seagulls took a moment to perch on the railing and watch the two birds who were fighting. He waited. The next time the morsel fell, he launched himself at it. While the other two continued their fight, even before it hit the ground, he grabbed it and darted away, flying low across the sea.

The man shrugged. “The owner was alone, so I took the cuffs off Jackson, and we went back in. I held a gun on the owner while Jackson opened the safe.”

She pictured it. “Then you killed Jackson. Both of them.”

“I couldn’t trust him.”

“He trusted you.”

“The point is that I have what you want. All I want is the money you promised him. Do you have it?”

She glanced in the direction the seagull had gone but saw no sign of him. The other two, the losers, resignedly hunted around, looking for other scraps. The other end of the pier, by the parking lot, was clear. This cop wouldn’t have brought anyone. He didn’t trust people.

“I have it,” she said.

The echo of her shot disappeared low over the water.

The thumb drive with the data was in his pocket and the sun shone down on the cop’s body as she rolled it off the pier.

It was going to be a nice day. You could trust that.

Ed Teja's crime stories have been published in a variety of publications, such as Crimeucopia, Mystery Magazine, and Thrill Ride. His new crime series STOREFRONT ASSASSIN just launched, with the first book, Betrayal, available on Amazon.