“Where?”
“In a garbage bin.”
“Which garbage bin?”
Smith searched his mind frantically. “In front of a tattoo parlor.”
“What’s the name?”
“I don’t know, but it was only a block from where I found Isaiah Whitcomb.”
FIFTY-TWO
Fisher found Holt pacing the hallway. The officer who had assisted her in removing Holt from the room was standing not too far from him.
She walked up to Holt.
“He’s lying to save his ass,” he said. “He knows who killed Isaiah. Or he did it himself.”
“If he did, then why did he call it in?” Fisher asked.
“I don’t know, maybe he regretted it once he realized what he had done.”
“We listened to the call. Smith knew the victim was Isaiah, a basketball star. He even said so in the recording. And by the sound of it, he came across as a fan of his.”
Holt only grunted.
“Whoever shot Isaiah ambushed him,” Fisher continued. “When we were in Smith’s apartment, we searched it and found no weapons.”
“Maybe he dumped the weapon,” Holt said.
“And kept the heroin?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
Holt opened his mouth but then shut it.
“He is lying, though,” Fisher said.
“About what?”
“That he’s no junkie. Even though we found no drugs apart from the heroin, the apartment reeked of cannabis and crack.”
“That’s why I don’t believe a single word he is saying,” Holt said. “Smith did not find heroin in the Chrysler.”
Fisher crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, let’s say you are right about that.”
“I am,” Holt shot back.
“If that’s the case, then what was Isaiah doing in a neighborhood like that so early in the morning?”
Holt blinked. She could tell he was mulling this over.
Holt cursed and began pacing again.
She followed him. “Something doesn’t add up, I agree,” she said. “But right now, we don’t know much. So I am more inclined to give Smith the benefit of the doubt.”
Holt faced her. “I know Isaiah. He grew up right before my eyes. If there was any indication he was into something illegal, I would have sensed it.”
“Would you have?” Fisher asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You loved Isaiah—everyone who got to know him did—and it’s that love that blinds people from the truth. How many times have you read about someone who by all accounts was a good, decent, hardworking family man who ended up committing horrific crimes?”
Holt thought for a moment. “What if the drugs belonged to Jay Bledson?” he suggested.
Fisher had considered this. Isaiah was found dead in the assistant coach’s car, but there were gaping holes in Holt’s theory. “We can ask him, but I don’t think it will lead us anywhere,” she said.
“Why not?”
“A few reasons. One: Bledson would not be stupid enough to let a student take his car with drugs stashed in it. Two: Isaiah had told Bledson he needed to borrow the car for personal reasons. We saw him on the security footage rushing out of the practice facility, so it is obvious he was going somewhere to meet someone. Three: When we interviewed him, Bledson did not give off any indication that he was concerned the police had found drugs in the Chrysler. It is only now, after we spoke to Smith, that we are aware of the heroin. My guess is that Bledson had no idea and still doesn’t know about the drugs in his vehicle.”
Holt shook his head and continued pacing. She knew it was his way of working through the information he had just been handed.
A uniformed officer walked up the hall. He spotted Fisher and approached her. In his hand was a clear plastic bag. Inside was a black leather wallet.
When Smith had told her where he had dumped the wallet, Fisher had made a call for a patrol officer to go check it out.
“Where did you find it?” she asked him.
“Outside a tattoo parlor,” the officer replied. “Fortunately, the garbage truck was not scheduled to pass by until later today.”
Fisher pulled a pair of latex gloves from her pocket. She removed the wallet and flipped it open.
Isaiah’s driver’s license was in the inside flap.
Fisher turned to Holt. His eyes were narrow and his expression was serious. She could tell what he was thinking.
Bo Smith is telling the truth.
FIFTY-THREE
After leaving Elle’s apartment, Callaway drove back to Milton. During the drive, he could not help but think about all the mistakes he had made in his life. There were too many, and by the end of his journey, he was utterly depressed. He had begun the day feeling sorry for Elle. Now he was feeling sorry for himself.
Instead of heading home, he took a detour.
He pulled into a house’s driveway and smiled. The home’s lights were on, which meant the occupants were home.
He checked himself in the rearview mirror and frowned. He had forgotten about the bandage on his nose. He considered ripping it off, but the thought of pain made him reconsider.
Guess I need to rely on my charm instead of my good looks, he thought.
He got out and approached the front door. He practiced his smile. When he was ready, he knocked.
A moment later, the door swung open. The smile on his face instantly disappeared when he saw who it was not.
“Can I help you?” the woman said. She was short and plump with rosy cheeks, and she wore thick glasses.
“Um… where’s Patti?” he asked.
“And you are…?” the woman replied.
“I’m Lee.”
The woman crossed her arms. “Oh, so you’re Lee. Patti told me stories about you.”
And they are all true, he wanted to say, but did not.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I live down the street.”
“So what’re you doing in Patti’s house?”
“I should ask you the same question.”
Why is this woman giving me a hard time?
“I’m here to see Nina. Can you go tell her that her father is here?”
“Sorry, no can do.”
“Why not?”
“I have specific instructions from Patti. Nina is supposed to do her homework, watch a little bit of TV, and then go straight to bed.”
Callaway was beginning to fume. “Maybe you did not hear me. I’m Nina’s father and Patti’s ex-husband. Please go and get my daughter so I can speak to her.”
“Maybe you did not hear me,” she said, raising her voice and getting closer to him. He took a step back. She looked like she could eat him. “Nina is not supposed to have any visitors.”
He swallowed. Maybe I should come back another time, he thought.
A little girl appeared behind the woman. “Daddy,” she squealed.
She rushed out and gave him a big hug.
Sabrina “Nina” Callaway was nine years old. She had dark hair, emerald green eyes, and a smile that could melt even a Russian gangster’s heart.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said.
She frowned. “What happened to your face?”
His hand moved toward his nose. “It’s a long story. Where’s your mom?”
“She has a late shift tonight.”
Patti was a nurse, and she worked long shifts at a local hospital. She worked hard to put food on the table and keep a roof over Nina’s head. On top of that, she had done an exceptional job raising her. Unfortunately, Callaway could take no credit for how bright his daughter was. Nina got Patti’s beauty and her brains. He just prayed she did not get any of his bad habits to balance everything out.
“Come inside,” Nina said with excitement.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” the woman said. “I was told not to let strangers in.”
“I’m not a stranger,” Callaway said, feeling offende
d. “Like I told you, I’m Patti’s ex-husband and Nina’s father.”
“Then why aren’t you babysitting her?” the woman asked.
She has a point.
“Call Patti,” Callaway said. “Ask her if I can spend time with Nina. If she says no, I’ll leave.”
Nina turned to him. “Dad, I don’t want you to go.”
“Baby, we have to do what your mom says. She’s earned it.” Callaway meant every word. Patti had sacrificed so much for their daughter, and he had done diddlysquat. If he tried to undermine her authority, his behavior would negatively affect Nina. He did not want to be one of those parents who tried to sway their child against the other parent. He was grateful that Patti wanted him to be a part of Nina’s life. It was up to him to make the time to be there. Patti believed a girl’s development was strongly tied to her relationship with her father. Callaway hoped that one day he would make up for all the time he had lost.
The woman saw how happy Nina was and said, “All right, I’ll call your mom and ask.”
She went inside. Callaway held his only child. “So, how’s Grumpy Neighbor treating you?” he asked.
“She’s nice. She’s teaching me how to bake cookies, cupcakes, and muffins.”
I bet she likes eating them too, he thought.
“I like her,” Nina said.
He smiled. “If you like her, then I guess I can tolerate her too.”
The woman returned. “Patti said you can come inside.”
Nina jumped with joy and said, “Yay!”
Callaway jumped with joy too, clapping his hands as he did.
Nina rolled her eyes. “Mom’s right. You need to grow up.”
He laughed and followed her in.
FIFTY-FOUR
The Chrysler had been taken to the police impound for testing. The vehicle would be stripped apart, and any evidence found would be photographed and tagged in case it needed to be presented at a trial.
Once Holt and Fisher heard Bo Smith’s statement, they immediately requested a drug analysis on the Chrysler. The Milton Police Department now had access to quick testing methods, the same ones used at airports and border crossings.
A swab test was conducted on the car’s glove compartment, and the test came back purple.
The color was an indicator for heroin.
A thorough testing would be conducted for the courts later, but the discovery was enough for Holt to pay a visit to his sister.
With a heavy heart, he broke the news to Marjorie. She yelled and called him names he had heard his father call him when he did something wrong as a kid. He did not take her words personally. He had told her what no mother wanted to hear.
Her beloved son may have died due to a drug deal gone wrong.
“How dare you tell me Isaiah was selling... selling…”
Marjorie could not get herself to say heroin. She cupped her hand over her mouth and fell on the sofa. She let out an anguished wail as she wrestled with her feelings.
Holt’s eyes were moist as he watched her slump down in agony. He wanted to reach out and hold her, but he knew she would not let him. At that moment, he was the enemy. He had accused Isaiah of something unfathomable, and by extension, he had accused her of being a bad parent, someone who had raised a drug dealer.
He turned to Brit, who was standing across from him in the living room. When his eyes met hers, he saw the same pain as in her mother’s. She burst into tears and rushed up the stairs. He heard her bedroom door slam shut a moment later.
Dennis stood near the fireplace. He had not moved an inch. Holt looked to him for help, but Dennis refused to make eye contact.
Holt was alone. He felt like the walls were closing in on him. He began to feel suffocated, as if someone was strangling him. Holt had suffered severe asthma as a child, and he began to feel like his condition was returning.
He shut his eyes as hot tears streamed down his cheeks. He could not breathe. He was choking. He was going to die.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes. It was Marjorie. The venom she had for him a moment ago was replaced by concern.
She wrapped her arms around him. He let her hug him. He needed her more than she could ever imagine.
Dennis came over. He opened his mouth but no words came out. He stood there for a moment. He then placed his hand on Holt’s shoulder, held it there briefly, and then left the room.
Holt was not sure how long Marjorie hugged him, but he was grateful for her gesture. She then looked him in the eye. “Isaiah was not into drugs, no matter what anyone says. He just wasn’t, Greg.”
He stared at her. “How can you be so sure?” he slowly asked.
“I’m his mother. I know it. And you know it too.”
I thought I did, he thought, but right now I do not know what to believe.
FIFTY-FIVE
Callaway was on the sofa. Nina was curled up next to him with her head resting on his lap. They had been watching a movie when she fell asleep. He was worried she would want to watch a girly movie, but she surprised him by wanting to see a science fiction one. Even though he was relatively uninvolved in her daily life, she still shared some of his interests.
As a kid, Callaway loved reading stories about robots, aliens, and spaceships. He dreamed of one day voyaging with the crew of the starship Enterprise. When he learned they were not real, he was heartbroken. But even then, the feeling of traveling through galaxies looking for adventure and discovering new life and new civilizations had not left him. Maybe that was why he was so restless, always looking for the next exciting opportunity to get involved in.
The neighbor was in the kitchen. She only came out to see if Nina needed anything. Callaway had a feeling she would rather stare at the stove than spend a minute in the same proximity as him. He was perfectly fine with that. He would rather read an encyclopedia than have a conversation with her.
He brushed the hair off Nina’s face. His little girl was growing up fast. Soon she would be a teenager and then an adult. She would start dating and maybe even get married.
He always swore to be a bigger part of her life, but something prevented him from doing so. He knew the answer, whether he admitted it or not. Callaway did not know how to be a parent. He always found a way to mess it up.
Nina was the most precious thing in the world, and he was afraid he would do something that could affect her development. He was known to get drunk whenever the opportunity arose. He risked his life savings on sure bets, which turned out not to be on many occasions. He rushed into relationships with women, and just as quickly ended them.
All in all, he was not the role model he wanted to be for his girl.
The best thing he did, and the hardest, was to get out of the way of Nina’s growth. She was coming into her own as a person, and he did not want his influence to negatively affect her.
Some could argue his way of thinking was a copout. He was avoiding the responsibility and sacrifice millions of parents made each day for their children. But Callaway would argue that not all people were made to be parents. There was no course, certificate, or test that told a person they could do the job and do it well. It was a learn-on-the-fly kind of thing, and Callaway did not trust himself enough to do a half-decent job.
He worried he could damage Nina for the rest of her life by leaving her with emotional scars.
He shuddered at the thought.
He was an absent father—there was no doubt about that—but if his little girl found herself in some kind of trouble, he would drop everything and be there for her. He would lie, cheat, and steal to make the problem go away. He would even put himself in harm’s way to protect her.
FIFTY-SIX
Callaway heard a car approach the driveway and then come to a halt. A minute later, the front door opened, and he could hear footsteps in the hall.
Patti’s home, he thought.
The neighbor appeared from the kitchen and rushed to her. Callaway could not see them because his back wa
s to the hall, but he could hear them.
“Thanks so much for looking after Nina,” Patti said.
“It’s no problem. Nina was a good girl.”
“What about him?” she asked. “Was he a good boy?”
He smiled. Patti had a great sense of humor. Even better than his.
“I’m surprised you married a guy like him,” the neighbor replied.
“We all make mistakes when we are young.”
The smile on his face fell.
Ouch, he thought.
“Thanks again for taking care of Nina.”
“No problem. Anytime.”
He heard the front door close.
Patricia “Patti” Callaway entered the room, and he immediately found himself breathless. Even after all these years, he could not believe he let her get away. She had short dark hair and brown eyes that were amazing lie detectors. Her lips were always curled into a smile no matter how bad things were in her life.
She was wearing a coat over her green scrubs. She must be exhausted after a twelve-hour shift, he thought, but he still found her stunning.
“You wanna grab your jaw off the floor or do you want me to do it?” she said.
He did not realize his mouth was open. He shut it and realized his tongue was suddenly dry.
She placed her purse on the floor, pulled off her coat, and sat across from him. She rubbed her feet and said, “What’re you doing here, Lee?”
“I came to see Nina.”
“Okay, sure,” she said, not believing him.
“I missed her.”
She stared at him and went back to rubbing her feet.
“You’re not going to ask what happened to my face?” he asked, pointing at his bandaged nose.
“I’m sure you deserved it.”
Damn, he thought. She’s good.
“Tiring day?” he asked.
“Always is when you work at a hospital.”
“Someone die on your watch?”
She went silent.
“Oh, sorry, that was insensitive.”
“So, where’s the Charger?” she asked. “There’s a bucket of metal parked in my driveway.” She was referring to the Impala. Patti knew how much he loved his car. He would never go anywhere without it.
The Lee Callaway Boxed Set Page 34