Dead by Sunrise

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Dead by Sunrise Page 19

by Richard Ryker


  Brandon left Emma asleep in the morning, with a note that the furniture was due to arrive sometime before noon. There was plenty of food for lunch and breakfast, thanks to their trip to the store the night before.

  Brandon was at the station by seven, hoping to get an early start on emails. He had told the city’s human resources department to schedule interviews for the full-time position.

  He wouldn’t mind replacing Nolan too. The problem was, he only had two good candidates. One was Jackson, the other Neal’s buddy, Steve Chilton.

  Brandon had asked Will to sit in on the interviews with him. Will had been with the department longer than anyone, and the other officers respected him.

  Around eight, Sue came in and reminded him he still hadn’t finished his HR intake, so he spent the better part of the morning filling out retirement and insurance paperwork and taking mandatory online trainings about sexual harassment and IT security. Stuff he’d done a thousand times before. Still, half a day worth of boring trainings wasn’t a quarter of what they put officers through in Seattle.

  He called Emma at noon. The furniture had arrived, and she had already unwrapped the couch and set up her room. He reminded her he’d be home late. Jackson’s interview wasn’t until almost eight o’clock in the evening. Something to do with Jackson not being able to get a babysitter until then. Brandon wanted to ask, isn’t that what your husband is for? But decided it was better to mind his own business.

  Emma reassured Brandon that she’d be fine, she could make her own dinner, and maybe if she was bored she’d go hang out with Misty across the street. Not what Brandon hoped to hear, but it wasn’t the worst she could do in a town like Forks, where sometimes boredom led to bad choices, even in the best of kids.

  Will showed up half-an-hour before the first interview. They were supposed to review the applications, but Will wanted to argue the Seattle Mariners’ chances of making the playoffs. It had been over a decade since they’d made it to the postseason and old-timers like Will still dreamed of a run like the team had made back in ’95.

  He must have noticed the look of disinterest on Brandon’s face. He’d been going through the case in his head while Will recapped Ken Griffey Junior’s pre- and post-trade stats.

  “Anything new on the Lauren Sandoval case?” Will asked.

  “Still waiting on the DNA found with her,” Brandon said.

  “You think it belongs to the guy we busted at the work site?”

  “Nevins admits he went looking for Lauren,” Brandon said. “But the timeline doesn’t fit. Ruby said he returned to the hotel by 1 A.M.”

  “And she died after two,” Will said, tossing the interview file on Brandon’s desk. “Maybe Ruby’s lying. Wouldn’t be a first.”

  “There’s the beer cans and the necklace I found on the beach.”

  Despite Brandon’s assumption that the evidence from the sea stack was connected to Lauren’s death, there wasn’t any hard proof of that, yet.

  “It could be Nevins, could be any of her friends. The other thing is,” Brandon said, “I don’t see Nevins as the vampire biting type.”

  “You never know with people around here,” Will said.

  There was a knock at Brandon’s door. Sue popped her head in. “Your interview is here. Twenty minutes early.”

  “Tell him we’ll be out in a few.”

  Sue lingered, then leaned forward, speaking in a conspiratorial tone. “He seems like a nice fellow.”

  “Okay,” Brandon said.

  “Well dressed and well-spoken too.”

  “Sue, I get it. I’ll let him know he can use you as a reference.”

  She straightened, her lips tightening. “I was only trying to be helpful.”

  Brandon sighed. “I apologize, Sue. Thank you and we’ll be right there.”

  She rose an eyebrow, then left without another word.

  Will chuckled. “You better watch out for her. She has influence in this town.”

  “Her and everyone else,” Brandon said. He slid the folder containing the applications to Will. “Take a look at his info. We only have a couple of minutes.”

  Sue was right, Steve Chilton was a nice guy. He was prepared and had even worn a jacket and tie. There were twelve standardized questions—ones developed by HR and the former chief. To Brandon, the interview forms were near useless. You got to know a person by asking follow-up questions.

  When they reached the end, Brandon asked, “Steve, I noticed you’ve moved around quite a bit, changing jobs at least once a year.”

  Steve nodded.

  “Why is that?”

  “I was working over in Thurston County, but I wasn’t getting enough shifts, so I took a job with Tumwater PD.”

  “For how long?”

  “About eight months,” he said. “I moved down to Chehalis after that. I had… conflicts with the lieutenant in Tumwater.”

  “What sorts of conflicts?”

  “Just, didn’t see eye to eye.”

  Brandon leaned forward.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “I just…I don’t know what else to say. I don’t want to disrespect a previous supervisor.”

  Will leaned over and whispered in Brandon’s ear. “He’s not a suspect. He’s applying for a job.”

  “As a cop,” Brandon said, loud enough for Steve to hear.

  “After that I went to Ocean Shores PD.”

  “And would you be willing to share why you made that change?”

  “My mom died, and I wanted to be closer to my father,” he said, eyeing Brandon.

  “Sorry to hear that,” Brandon said. Now he felt like an ass for asking.

  But he didn’t need a flake on his team. He was already dealing with the likes of Neal Nolan.

  “And now that my father’s passed away too, I’m not interested in sticking around Ocean Shores.”

  “Why here?” Will asked.

  “I don’t know if you know, but Neal Nolan is a buddy of mine. He’s spoken highly of this department.”

  Really? That must have been before Brandon got here.

  Brandon opened his mouth, but Will spoke first. “That’s great. Neal’s a good guy.”

  A good guy? He’s on unpaid leave for nearly shooting a fellow officer.

  “Alright, Steve. We’ll be in touch.”

  Steve slid back his chair and stood, shaking hands with Brandon, then Will. “Not to pressure you,” Chilton said. “But I’ve got an interview up in Port Angeles tomorrow and—”

  “I’ll make a decision by the end of the week.”

  Will showed Chilton out.

  Will returned and closed the door, falling into the chair where Chilton had been sitting earlier. He crossed his arms, staring at Brandon. “Admit it. You don’t like him because he’s friends with Nolan.”

  “I don’t need someone who’ll leave town the second he gets bored with Forks—because you know as well as I do it’s hard enough to keep people around here.”

  “He had good reasons for leaving each job.”

  “You have to admit, there’s a pattern there,” Brandon said.

  “Yeah, so he quit to return home after his mom died—”

  It was an obvious reference to Brandon’s situation. His mother had passed away, leaving his dad alone. Brandon held up a hand. “Okay, I get it. Just score the damn interview sheet.”

  The form supplied by HR required a score of 0-5 on each question.

  They sat in silence, each scoring their own questions.

  “There,” Will said, tossing the sheet of paper across the table. “Not that it will make any difference.”

  “I am open to any and all candidates. Even an officer whose buddy happens to be on unpaid leave.”

  Will leaned back in his chair. “About that. I mean, did you really have to put Nolan on leave? It’s not like any of us can afford to miss work.”

  “I should have fired him.”

  Why would Will take Nolan’s side? Of all the officers,
he figured Will would be the one to understand the importance of decision making when it came to discharging a weapon.

  “He nearly shot Jackson.”

  “That’s not how Nolan explained it.”

  “I interviewed both of them.”

  “And it was he-said, she-said, right?”

  “He admitted shooting past Jackson. That’s problem enough. Not to mention firing on a suspect who, at the time, he believed was unarmed and near enough to capture.”

  Will pulled out a toothpick and stuck it between his teeth. “You’re the chief.”

  “Yep.”

  Brandon stood, thinking the conversation over.

  “I’m just saying,” Will said. “Nolan could be a good officer—”

  “Still waiting to see that—”

  “And don’t forget, this is a small town. You might be used to big-city politics, but things are different here. Each decision means more.”

  “So, firing Nolan would be a bad idea?” Brandon said.

  “Not saying good or bad, just would have more consequences than in a larger department. Not just for the police, but the whole town. Nolan is well-liked around here. People listen to him.”

  “Then maybe they should have hired him to be chief.”

  Will pulled the toothpick out, pointed it at Brandon. “Ah, knock it off. Nolan would be a horrible chief.”

  “So, what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying be careful. Everyone’s watching you right now.” Will stood. “Alright. What time is Jackson’s interview?”

  “Seven-thirty,” Brandon said.

  “See you then.”

  Brandon stared down at Will’s scoring sheet. He’d given Steve a total of fifty-two points. Brandon had only awarded forty, and he thought he was being generous. Maybe he was biased against Steve because of his friendship with Nolan.

  He had to remember, Jackson wasn’t a shoe-in. If she bombed, it would be near impossible for Brandon to make the case for hiring her instead of Steve Chilton.

  Brandon’s radio scratched.

  “Chief, you there?”

  Why was Sue calling him on his radio?

  “What’s up?”

  “We’ve got a situation out here.”

  “Out where?”

  “The parking lot.”

  What sort of situation, he wanted to ask, but he doubted he’d get an answer. Sue was probably still pissed at him for his comment about Chilton.

  He dropped the interview packets off in his office and headed for the lobby.

  “A bunch of hooligans out there screaming at each other,” Sue said.

  Why was she calling Brandon? They had officers—

  “And before you ask me why I asked you to respond,” Sue said. “It’s Ruby Taylor and the kids who were friends with the girl who died.”

  “How do you know…never mind.”

  Outside the police station, a car and a truck were parked haphazardly, the driver’s door hanging open on each.

  Ruby pointed a finger at Justin’s chest. Brooke stood by Justin’s side.

  “You son of a bitch,” Ruby said.

  Justin noticed Brandon’s approach. “Hey man. I need some police protection here.”

  “Okay, man,” Brandon said. “What the hell is going on?”

  “This crazy lady followed us through town,” Brooke said. “We didn’t know what to do, so we drove here.”

  Brooke squinted her red eyes at him. Either Brooke had severe allergies, or she was stoned.

  The pungent odor wafting off her now told him it was the latter. He eyed Justin’s truck.

  “They got me fired,” Ruby said.

  “It’s your own fault,” Brooke said, taking a step toward Ruby. “And you’re probably the one who killed Lauren.”

  Ruby looked to Brandon. “You see that. This is your fault. You going around telling people I had something to do with this. This is police harassment.”

  “Alright, calm down. What’s this about?” Brandon asked.

  “This…bitch and her boyfriend went in and said I threatened the girl who died.”

  “Her name was Lauren,” Brooke said. “You should know that, considering what you did to her.”

  Ruby pointed at Brandon. “You told everyone I killed her. That’s why I got fired—”

  “No, I didn’t,” Brandon said. He turned to Brooke. “How do you know she threatened Lauren?”

  The video evidence showing the argument between Lauren and Ruby wasn’t public.

  “She’s been threatening her for years,” Justin said. “Ever since Lauren busted her selling to clients up in PA.”

  Brandon and Jackson had heard the same thing at the methadone clinic. Ruby had already admitted that she thought Lauren was harassing her, though Ruby denied selling the drugs. This wasn’t new information to Brandon, but why were Brooke and Justin antagonizing Ruby now?

  “She deserved to get fired,” Brooke said. “She killed my best friend.”

  “That’s a lie,” Ruby said. “And I’m the one getting harassed here. By you two and the police.” She took a step toward Brooke. “And you know what, you little piece of crap—they arrested someone else today. The man who picked her up on the way to the beach.”

  Dammit if the entire investigation wasn’t being leaked.

  “Who told you that?” Brandon asked.

  “I got friends,” Ruby said.

  Brandon hoped it was the other construction workers—not one of his officers—who’d shared that info with Ruby. If Ruby was selling to the work crew, they’d keep her informed of what happened.

  He considered the three miscreants. “I want you to stay away from each other,” Brandon said. “If I have to get a court order, I will.”

  “Aren’t you going to arrest her?” Justin asked.

  “For what?”

  “Murder,” Brooke said.

  “We are considering multiple suspects,” Brandon said.

  Including all of Lauren’s friends.

  “Then for harassing us, dude.”

  “Ruby, do you promise to stop following these two around?”

  She pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, blew the smoke Brooke’s direction. Brooke thrust out an arm to swipe the cigarette out of Ruby’s hand. Justin held her back. “Chill, babe.”

  “I’ll leave them alone if they leave me alone,” she said.

  “Good,” Brandon said. “Now all of you, get out of my parking lot.”

  Brandon turned to leave but stopped to face Justin and Brooke.

  “By the way, smoking marijuana in a motor vehicle is illegal.” He’d warned Justin earlier about smoking in public, back when he’d first met them at Second Beach. “You’re in my jurisdiction now. If I catch you again, we won’t let it go next time.”

  Ruby hadn’t done herself any favors going after Lauren’s friends. She’d already lied to Brandon about the contract workers picking the girl up. And, as unlikely as it seemed, Ruby had a motive in Lauren’s murder—protecting her drug dealing.

  If she kept harassing Brooke and Justin, Brandon would have to do something about it.

  Brandon had just sat back down at his desk when Sue poked her head in. “Don’t forget. You’ve got that presentation at six-thirty.”

  “What presentation?”

  “The one the mayor emailed you about a few days back. I reminded you yesterday.”

  “You did?”

  “You calling me a liar, chief?”

  Brandon eyed Sue. He had no recollection of the conversation.

  “Right there, on your desk.”

  She pointed to a tiny sticky note, tacked to the bottom of his computer screen. Brandon peeled it off. It read: Reminder, 6:30 council meeting. Mayor called.

  “She called?”

  “When you were at lunch.”

  “Next time notify me in person. Better yet, call me.”

  Sue shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t know how you want things done unless you tell me.”r />
  “I’m telling you now.”

  “Fine,” she said, and walked away.

  “Wait,” Brandon said.

  She turned, slowly, and shuffled back into his office.

  “Yes.”

  “Look, Sue. It seems like we’re getting off on the wrong foot.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Maybe I don’t do things the same way as Chief Satler—”

  She cast him a sarcastic smile. “I noticed.”

  “I need your help to do my job right.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Are we good?”

  “We agree that you need me to do your job, yes.”

  Brandon sighed. She wasn’t making this easy.

  “What do you need from me, Sue?”

  “Right now, I need you to let me go home and make dinner for my husband,” she said. “But if you mean, what do I need to do my job? I need you to trust me. I’ve been doing this a while. Just like everyone else around here.”

  Brandon crossed his arms. “You had a problem with me sending Nolan home, too?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “No way. That guy’s an ass. Good riddens to him.”

  He was glad to hear someone agreed with him.

  “It’s only for a few days. He’ll be back soon enough.”

  “You know he’s the one slipping information to that Ted guy from the newspaper. Been doing it for years,” she said.

  “And Chief Satler didn’t care?”

  “He picked his battles carefully. Just like you should.”

  It was good advice.

  “And relax. No one’s liked by everyone.” She winked at him. “Not even me.”

  Brandon chuckled, waving a hand at her. “Have a good dinner.”

  He scrolled to the original email from the mayor, telling him about the presentation tonight for the city council. Now he remembered reading the email. At the time, he figured he’d wing it, not worry about slides or handouts, the usual stuff people did at these sorts of political gatherings. Now, he wished he’d put some effort into the presentation.

  It wouldn’t be the first time in his career he’d have to BS his way through a situation.

  Chapter 25

  Brandon slid into the back row of the large conference room that served as the Forks City Council’s meeting chambers. The city council members were at the front of the room at a few long tables, facing a half-full room of citizens.

 

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