by David Clark
“Sure, sounds like the same person. They each gave a similar description. Male, late twenties. Dressed in a suit, but with no tie. That casual, almost preppy look. You know, the one I try to get you to do. His face, though, didn’t look preppy. All three said he had dark hair, brown eyes, and a pretty dark shadow going over well, Sharon called it pitted skin, but Marie said he had craters.”
“Tall, short? Slim? Fat?” Jordan’s hands pulled for more information.
Megan consulted the others before answering. “Trim to athletic, and normal height for a man. Somewhere around six foot.”
“Had either of them seen him around before?”
“No, not until he approached them. After that, he was at every job they worked until they were talked out of just serving.”
“I think I have heard of this pattern before,” started Jordan.
“Wait!”, Megan interrupted. “They just told me he was there at the other things too. Just for the first few minutes and then left.”
Jordan stopped where he was, which was the little alcove with the door to the bathroom to his right, and the door out of the room straight ahead. “Yep, I know this well. He was the handler. The person who would take the fall. He won’t be anyone important or notable. More forgettable than anything. They needed him to be like that, so anyone who turned him down wouldn’t give him another thought or make any report. I bet he had a way about him, that just made people feel comfortable when he talked to them.”
When he turned to look back in the room, all three girls were agreeing with him. “Someone that felt like a lifelong friend in just moments?”, he asked.
Again, they all agreed.
“A confidence man. Typical,” hissed Jordan. “Now, I need you all to concentrate. I need you to try to remember names of anyone you met at the parties you served, or any of the clients you saw.”
Jordan started pacing again, but stopped when Megan commanded, “Wait! Slow down!”. She sprung up from her chair and ran to Jordan’s bag. He looked on bewildered as she rummaged through his belongings for a moment before pulling out his notebook of paper they used the night before. Another quick search produced a pen, and she sat back at the table positioned to write. “Go ahead!” Her hand scribbled as fast as it could to keep up. There were only a few requests to “hang on” while she wrote. When she was done, she dropped the pen on the table and sat back in the chair. The look she gave Jordan told him what was about to come out of her mouth. “You aren’t going to like this list.”
Jordan strode over to the table and looked down at the paper. The writing was chicken scratch. Not that he could have done any better at the speed she was writing. Each name was still legible, and he started to read them one at a time. One by one, the names made him wobbly in the knees. It was when he got to the fourth name that he grabbed the paper and looked for a place to sit, but there wasn’t one. Each chair as well as the bed were occupied, so he leaned against the closest wall and slid down to the floor with his knees bent to support the list like a makeshift desk.
You didn’t need to be a master of the Richmond society pages to recognize the names on this list. The fact that the girls provided their job titles didn’t hurt, but Jordan really didn’t need them. He was very familiar with the names of the two federal judges, the one appellant judge from the fourth circuit right here in Richmond, an assistant attorney general, and one Senator whose office he had called twice this morning. The other names were those of other predominant attorneys. Five owners of prominent businesses in and around Richmond. Of course, the list wouldn’t be complete if you didn’t add some local fair and throw in the deputy mayor.
When Jordan allowed Megan to talk him into coming up here, he hoped to find some link to the local drug dealer or gang she had crossed, or what he thought was the most likely scenario, a crossed lover. This was way worse than any of that. The others would just shoot at you. These people wouldn’t waste the bullet, plus they would know they were traceable. You go poking around in their business and you go missing. Just ask the ghostly images of the three girls in their room.
The good news, Jordan could now piece together what happened. A confidence man duped them with an offer that was too good to be true. Not the first women to fall for such a scheme, and unfortunately not the last. Once they were in deep, they couldn’t get out. Threats and violence met any attempt to leave. And once they were done with them, they were simply discarded. Men of this ilk couldn’t have any loose ends like these girls hanging around to show up at the wrong press conference. It all made sense, even though it was purely circumstantial. Other than the phone that they acquired illegally, they had no proof, or any way to get it. He needed an in, and if he was investigating this in an official capacity, he could walk into the Senator’s office and ask him since his number was found on her phone, but he wasn’t, and therefore couldn’t. He had to find a side entrance into the case.
Just then, his phone rang, raping the silence of the room. It caused a little jump from everyone, including the three girls. The largest jump was from Jordan, who thudded back against the wall before he made it to his feet. The number was not one he recognized, and as the ring tone started for the second time, he considered not answering it, but then pressed the button and shakily answered, “Agent Blake.”
I am so fired, was the first thought in Jordan’s mind. He didn’t recognize the number, but every neuron in his brain expected to hear Todd asking what the hell he thought he was doing. Instead, it was a vaguely familiar voice that didn’t register with him at first.
“Agent Blake,” the voice said, ”it’s Detective Kendal, we met earlier at Bute Lane.”
The realization of who it was punched him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. Jordan raced for the door and the privacy of the hallway. His accelerated heart rate equated to four poundings of his heart for every step. Outside the door Jordan attempted to collect himself, and managed to only sound slightly out of breath when he faked his way through a confident, “Yes, detective. What can I do for you?”
“Well, this might sound odd, but the presence of you and your girlfriend at that crime scene kind of struck me, and I wanted to talk to you again about a few things, is that all right?”
Jordan staggered backward and thudded against the wall by the door and slid to the red carpeted floor. Shit! Shit! Shit! He thought they had gotten out of there with no suspicion, not that there was anything for them to be suspicious of. They did nothing wrong. Unfortunately, the truth would be more than difficult to explain. “Sure detective,” responded Jordan, flummoxed. “Shall we come down to your office?” It was a nice way for Jordan to ask if they wanted him and Megan down for official questioning.
“Nah, this is something off the record. How about just you and me? Where are you now? We can meet someplace close.”
Jordan hesitated, and then reluctantly told the detective where they were. He listened for the sound of sirens descending on them, but all he heard was the hum of the vacuum from the room being cleaned a couple of doors down. The detective suggested a coffee place just a block away, in a half an hour. That was both good and bad for Jordan. Whatever was going to happen would happen soon, and he only had a short time to panic about it.
21
Jordan lied to Megan, which was something he didn’t want to make a habit of, but if he had told her who was on the call, she would have panicked and never let him slip away. So, the excuse that it was a call about a case he was working, and that he needed a few minutes to talk to another agent about it gave him the perfect excuse to slip away. He didn’t want to worry her and left her there watching Gilmore Girls with her three new best friends.
A little regret about not telling Megan sunk in when Jordan was a block away from the coffee shop and he could see the grey sedan he saw earlier at Bute Lane. If things went south, no one would know where he was. Of course, they would give him one phone call. That call would be to Megan. Her reaction on that other end would be priceless. That is if, she
hadn’t already been taken into custody too. She might not do too well behind bars. Jordan then thought more about her outgoing personality that could make friends anywhere. He was the one he needed to worry about.
He walked in the door of the coffee shop and spied officer Kendal sitting at a table along the windows. Two cups of coffee were already on the table. The normal peace offering before the hard questions started; a tactic he had used more than a few times before. There was no backing out of things now. Even if he tried to run, there were probably units outside waiting. He remembered what he had tried earlier and took calm and long strides toward the table. He forced eye contact the whole time. There was no sign it made Detective Kendal uncomfortable, but no doubt that it had that effect on Jordan.
The Detective reached over the table as Jordan sat down. He half expected so see the glint of a pair of silver cuffs coming for his wrist. Instead, it was a friendly and a hardy handshake. What was that? The Detective’s palm was sweaty.
“Thanks for meeting me,” he said. Detective Kendal’s voice no longer bellowed like it did earlier. He was almost whispering. “I have to admit, if the others knew I was here... let’s just say I would be the butt of a lot of jokes. After I recognized you from a few of your girlfriend’s shows, I looked you up and found out what your specialty is. Were you really called up here to look over the body of Sharon Carter?”
“Yes. The coroner called for an agency consultation after he couldn’t find any natural cause of death,” Jordan answered.
“What did you find?”
“It should be in the reports.” Jordan was still unsure where this was going, but there was a slight slumping of the detective’s shoulders, and he had a hard time looking at Jordan now. Momentum was shifting.
“Yes, and it probably is, but I am asking you... cop to cop, what did you find?” The detective never looked up from his cup.
“I found two small needle pricks just below her elbow. Most would have missed it. I am sure the toxicology report will identify whatever it was that killed her,” Jordan said. He reached down and lifted his coffee to his lips. His focus stayed on the detective, but all he saw was the top of the man’s head, and a spot of thinning hair in the center.
“See, that’s the thing. I looked her over, up and down, as did Wayne... I mean Dr. Liu, the coroner. You probably met him,” Detective Kendal glanced up from his coffee for the first time and Jordan nodded. “We saw nothing, but you came up here on a consult and found it. Something tipped you off, didn’t it? A feeling? A sense?” begged the detective.
“Detective Kendal, I am not sure what you are asking?”
“It’s just Andrew, not Detective Kendal. Not here. Not now. I need your help.” The man stopped and sat back in his chair, both hands slapped his face and racked downward. His fingers left momentary red streaks. “Look,“ he continued. “I know who you are, and what your specialty is. For you to come back up here and bring who you did, you saw something on that level.” The man let out a heavy sigh as if releasing the weight of the world, or he was throwing it all to the wind to see how it lands. “I am not like you. I can’t see or even sense stuff, but I am open to it, and I gotta tell you. I am fucking lost on this case. Can you help me?”
Inside Jordan’s head a debate started that challenged the speed of light. He had reached a point where he didn’t know how to proceed with the investigation, and now he had been presented with an opening, but if he told Detective Kendal, Andrew, what had happened and what he knew, would he believe him? Much to Jordan’s surprise, the fact that Andrew admitted earlier to being a big fan of Megan’s show made it into the argument. He didn’t know for sure if that had any weight in the compromise that was reached, but didn’t care. Instead of throwing all his cards on the table, he would throw one card on the table and see what the next play was. “Okay, say I did, are you open to listening?”
“I am all ears, Agent. I might look at you cockeyed, but I will try to keep an open mind.”
Well, that is better than a no. The question that remained was would Jordan take a leap of faith and trust the man. Jordan felt more comfortable reading spirits than people. He had been screwed over a few times in the past, but had been told by others that goes with the job. There was nothing about Detective Kendal that made him feel this was one of those times. The man opened up, and to be honest was taking a chance. “Let’s take a walk.”
Coffees in hand, they walked back toward the hotel. How far they got would depend on how well the conversation went. Jordan ran over it in his head a few times before he started. So far, he had only had to explain the specifics of what he had seen or experienced in a case to less than a dozen people. Luckily, he worked with the same people all the time, and they understood, or at least accepted him.
“Yes, something told me to look at her arm for the needle marks. Something also urged me to come back and look. There was something not right about the whole thing.”
“I knew it,” said Andrew. “What did you see?”
“Let’s just say Sharon helped me.”
Andrew jerked to a stop, allowing Jordan to continue and get two steps in front of him. Jordan turned and saw the image of a man that life had just hit with a clarity that opened his eyes wide open.
“Are you shitting me? Is she still helping you? That is it, isn’t it?” He rushed the two steps to meet Jordan and was just inches from his face. “She knew those other girls. She told you where to find them and everything. That is it, isn’t it? You gotta tell me everything. We’re stumped.”
“It’s something like that,” Jordan said as he continued to walk toward the hotel, now just a block away. Andrew followed. Jordan had one more card to play before he played his hand out. It would tell Andrew something that might back up their credibility in his eyes and also test his own intentions. “You know Jennifer Tate is still out there in those woods.”
Andrew froze again. The cup of coffee held chest high where it was on the way to his mouth. His eyes didn’t blink, and his mouth hung agape. When he finally recomposed himself, he asked wearily. “You know about her?”
“We know quite a bit. Come with me.” Jordan led him through the parking lot and the front entrance of the hotel. While they walked up the stairs, Jordan explained to him about the man, the loan to help with their school expenses, and how everything took a turn to something else. It was as they walked down the hallway toward the room when Jordan explained to Andrew that he felt someone murdered them because they were no longer of use and just a loose end.
“Makes sense,” Andrew agreed.
The door to their room opened to a scene much like he left. Megan sat in one chair. Sharon in another. Marie and Beth were stretched out on the bed. When Jordan cleared through the door, Megan jumped in her chair at the sight of Andrew. The other three took notice too and were no longer happily watching television and looked on with a cautious, almost frightened interest. Jordan could feel the tension in the room climb.
“Just relax,” he said. “Everyone relax. Megan, you remember Detective Andrew Kendal, from earlier?”
She nodded.
“Well, I lied. He was the one who called my cell phone. I can explain better later, but he put two and two together and figured out why they called me to look at Sharon’s body, and then took the next leap when he saw you. He needs our help, and I have filled him in on everything we know so far.” Jordan looked at Sharon and the girls on the bed and said, “He can do more than I can to help.” They appeared to understand. Both their expressions and the feeling of apprehension he felt in the room dissipated to something calmer, but yet still weary. An emotion he completely understood after he was sure they were told many times to just trust the person who eventually killed them.
Jordan picked up the list of names that Megan had created earlier and handed it to Andrew. He immediately read it over. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed and collapsed down on the foot of the bed.
Megan lunged up out of her chair and even Jordan found his
body had lunged in his direction too. The detective looked up at them, befuddled. The list in his hand.
“Beth and Marie are sitting there,” Megan said hesitantly. Her hand over her mouth as she spoke.
Andrew sprung from the bed and across the room, bumping into the dresser. All the color had drained from his face. “Are... they... all... here... now?” he trembled.
“Beth and Marie are on the bed, and Sharon is in the chair.”, Megan pointed out.
“You two are shitting with me, aren’t you?” his voice shook through every word.
“No, we wouldn’t do that,” assured Jordan.
“Then I am going to stay right here.” Andrew’s attention was back on the list, but that didn’t stop the occasional look over the edge of the paper at the bed and empty chair. Jordan watched as Marie and Beth appeared to giggle a little at the situation, and Megan shot them an admonishing look like a parent would.
“You know this list is more your territory. A few of these are federal officers.”
Jordan stated the obvious. “I know, but remember I am not here in an official capacity. You would need to have a reason to bring us in.”
“Do you have the phone?”, Andrew asked.
Jordan crossed over to his bag and pulled out the baggie with the phone in it and handed it to Detective Kendal. Upon receipt of that baggie he asked, “No one touched it did they?”
“Not without gloves,” reported Jordan.
“Good. I can make up an excuse that I went back to look around, kicked a loose floorboard and found it. This will get the evidence train going. We have absolutely nothing on this except the bodies.”