by David Banner
As a guy Ryan Devereux knew little about handbags, though he was pretty sure based on the style and look of the thing that it had come with a pretty hefty price tag.
“Kate Spade.” Kit said, noticing his eyes stopping on the bag. “Designer, a few hundred bucks. Maybe a little cheaper in the outlet mall.”
The kitchen was clean and free of dirty dishes, save for one half-empty bottle next to the microwave. Kit tapped her partner on the shoulder and handed him a pair of latex gloves. He placed them on his hands and opened the refrigerator.
Inside he took note of two wine bottles, both unopened and a tub of leftover pasta. Just below them and neatly stacked he saw bottled water and a single grapefruit. For a single girl nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Moving into the apartments only bedroom Kit opened a drawer and carefully searched through until finding a small stack of photos. Laying them out on the bed she began photographing them one-by-one.
“Pretty hot stuff,” she said.
“Yeah.” Ryan answered. “That’s one way to put it.”
The further they dug into the small pile the more heated the pictures became. Gus Greenfield lay naked on the bed, a big smile on his face. In the mirrors reflection Ryan made out Holly’s naked body as she held the camera just above her chest.
“Engaged and doing this kind of stuff,” Kit placed the photos back into a small neat stack. “We should talk to that fiancé.”
“The sooner the better.” Ryan agreed.
Stepping back into the living room the detective noticed Jake Jones twirling a small snow globe between his hands. While there was no evidence of a crime they still needed to be careful, to preserve as much of the apartment as possible.
“Could you place that back where you found it?” He asked.
“Sorry,” the building manager answered. “Nervous habit.”
“Nervous?”
“Not nervous…” he stammered. “I’m just not good at being still.”
“What can you tell me about Holly Waters?” Ryan asked. “As a tenant?”
“Sweet girl,” he answered. “Bubbly and probably a little more friendly than she needed to be. But she always paid her rent on time.”
“Any problems with neighbors?”
“No,” he shook his head. “Not that I can think of. The guy downstairs… an older gentleman. He called in a few times complaining of smelling marijuana. I took the complaints but never followed up. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“Anything else?”
“No.” He scratched his head. “Not that I can call to mind.”
“What about her boyfriend?”
“The radio guy? He comes over quite a bit, yea. Usually in the evening. He stays for a while then leaves around midnight or a little after. Come to think of it, the old guy downstairs did mention hearing them fighting a couple times.”
“Apartment number?”
“Fifteen twelve.”
“What about this girl?” Kit pointed to a framed picture.
“I don’t know her name.” Jake answered. “I’ve seen her around a few times though. Always with Holly. Friends I think.”
“That camera.” Kit pointed to a roof-mounted security camera in the far corner of the building. “Does it work?”
“Yeah.” Jake nodded.
“We’re going to need the footage from Friday.”
“Alright,” he agreed. “It’ll take me a few minutes to get it.”
“Better get started then.”
Getting back down the stairs and into the parking lot Ryan scanned the cars, looking for anything out of place. As crime scenes went this seemed to be a pretty clean one, that is, if it were even a crime scene at all. Though it didn’t seem likely to the detective there was still a chance Holly Waters would return home after having taken an impromptu vacation.
“Fifteen twelve,” he pointed to the apartment just below Holly’s.
“I’ve got it.” Kit marched forward.
After a few failed attempts at getting anyone to the door his partner returned and suggested they come back another time. Ryan agreed and climbed back into his car. With Gus Greenfields fiancé fresh on his mind Ryan saw no point in delaying their visit to her.
The pictures he’d seen told a story of love and lust. Perhaps the young mans fiancé hadn’t seen them, though if she had Ryan knew better than to think the results would have been good. Jealousy is a strong motivator, especially when mixed with anger. Otherwise calm people are often led to do things they’d never thought themselves capable of once a relationship was threatened.
“The fiancé?” Kit asked.
“Change of plans.” Ryan answered, listening to a message he’d received while in the apartment. “The kid from the accident is awake.”
Chapter 10
Thanks to Michelle’s quick message Ryan was among the first to arrive at the small boys bedside. He looked weak and more than a little confused as he stared up at the detective. Cuts, bruises and scrapes still covered the majority of his fragile body.
It was a painful thing to see. Children are the most innocent people in all of the world and seeing them hurt in any way always tore deep into the detective. This shouldn’t have happened, he thought. A childs life was now on the line, his trajectory possibly forever changed by his wounds, both physical and emotional. And for what?
Parents are supposed to protect children, to make sure they’re safe, happy and healthy. But the boy was strong, fighting through the wounds in a way most grown men probably couldn’t. His dark brown eyes focused in on Ryan as he began to speak.
“Do you know why you’re here?” Asked the detective. “Do you remember what happened?”
Through pain, fear and confusion the small boy nodded his head in response.
“Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”
Tears began pooling in the boys eye. His lips quivered and his hands began to shake. Such a traumatic event would have been a lot for anyone. Ryan knew that. Maybe it was too soon, perhaps the young boy just wasn’t ready to relive it just yet.
“Detective.” An almost-familiar voiced called out. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“Yes,” he answered. “I was here checking on my uncle. I stopped in and noticed Evan was awake.”
“Yes,” she answered. “I came as soon as I heard.”
The idea that no one was with the child when he awoke rubbed Ryan the wrong way. If, God forbid, it had been Carly up there either he or Jillian would have been by her side the entire time. It was a truth he knew without having to ask and one he hoped would never come to pass.
“He hasn’t spoken.” Ryan answered.
“It would probably be better if you didn’t ask questions.” She stepped closer, placing her hand on the young boys palm. “I wouldn’t want to upset him so soon after he’s awoken.”
“It’s just a series of routine questions ma’am. I assure you. We need to piece together as much of that night as possible. Until we have all of the information the case will remain open. I know you must want this behind you quickly.”
“It is behind us.” Her words carried a sense of finality. “If you wish to ask any other questions or investigate any further I’d suggest you speak to our lawyers. My family has been through enough. I’m sure you can understand.”
A thick turquoise necklace lay heavy on the womans chest, lifting away and dangling freely as she bent forward and placed a kiss on her grandson’s forehead. The boy had been through a lot but he was alive. Unlike Maryann Waters this woman had something to look forward to. A concrete image of hope. For Maryann hope was something else, something much darker and further away.
“Alright.” Ryan replied. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
Lawyer.
For a detective the word carried an almost magical sense of power. Once uttered both his badge and his ability to investigate were nullified on the spot as though a binding spell had been cast. Ryan’s hands were tie
d and as much as he hoped the little boy would be okay he had no choice but to turn and head for the door.
“I wanted to thank you again,” she said. “Before you go. I wanted to thank you for how you handled my daughters fiancé.”
“I spoke to him.” Ryan assured her. “That’s all. What happened-”
“He’s gone now. Out of my daughter and my grandson’s life for good. That’s all that matters.”
Ryan left the room and headed down the hallway. Though they’re often the place of life and death, the place of healing and falling apart the detective had always found hospitals to be among the most emotionally antiseptic places to find yourself.
Doctors, nurses and even detectives. They’d all been trained to withhold emotion, to treat death as though it were just another small element of the day, like the tying of a shoelace or the brushing of hair.
It happened in a blur. She rounded the corner faster than he had time to process, her eyes wide with anger and her tongue lashing obscenities throughout the otherwise quiet building. Ryan stopped, his feet glued to the shiny vinyl floor as he watched her near him.
“You!” Her voice cried. “He’s dead!”
“Ma’am, I-”
“What did you say!” She yelled. “What did you say to him in that alley?”
“Please ma’am. Calm down. I assure you I said nothing out of the way.”
“My husband is dead!”
“Ma’am. Again, I’ll ask you to calm down.”
“What happened?” She stomped. “What the hell happened?”
“You know what happened.” Ryan answered in his most calming and soothing voice. “Your husband took his own life after seeing what he’d done. He didn’t think Evan was-”
“Don’t you say his name!” She lunged forward. “Don’t you dare say my sons name! I could have talked to him! I could have gone into that alley if you hadn’t tied my hands! He would still be alive if it weren’t for you.”
Her small lithe fists pounded Ryan’s chest. She was furious and out of control. She’d allowed herself to be overtaken by stress, by the weight of loss and the pain she’d been dealing with. Ryan grabbed her wrists, trying his best to calm the still screaming woman.
“Please,” he repeated. “I have to ask you again. Calm down. Otherwise I’ll have to cuff you again.”
“You won’t do shit!” Her elbow jabbed his stomach.
The detectives patience was beginning to run low. He’d been trained to handle situations like this early on in his career though he had yet to actually encounter such an event. Ryan Devereux had spent the last few years behind a desk, working cold cases. He wasn’t the right guy for this, he thought. He wasn’t the right guy for either case.
“I will ask you one final-” his words were cut short.
A surge of pain washed over his face and resonated down his body as the woman pulled a small potted plant from atop a counter and slammed it against his chin. Ryan’s eyes rolled backward, his vision flashing white from the impact.
“That’s enough!” Kit placed a ziptie around her wrist then brought the woman to her knees with a soft push. “Darla Ogdon, you’re under arrest for assaulting a police officer. You have the right to-”
“That won’t be necessary,” a well-dressed man approached.
Wiping a few bits of soil from his eyes Ryan saw senator Alfred Ogdon walking toward him. This marked the second time in as many days he’d seen the man, though this time he seemed to have quite a bit more to say.
“You can let her go,” he said in a deep and gravely voice. “I’ll have my men bring her home.”
“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.” Kit answered. “This woman both threatened and assaulted a police officer. She’s under arrest.”
“I don’t think you heard me.” The senator stepped forward. “I said I would handle this.”
“Yes,” Kit nodded. “And I said she is under arrest. Unless you’d like to join her I suggest you step aside.”
It was clear the senator was used to getting his way. He’d likely been using his power to intimidate people since first taking office and in that time he’d probably gotten used to getting what he wanted. It seemed he hadn’t counted on meeting up with Kit Walker.
“Do you have any idea wh-”
“Who you are?” Kit raised an eyebrow. “I know exactly who you are, senator. You’re a citizen of this county, just like you’re daughter, just like everyone else in this hospital. Nothing more.”
“Are you actually considering arresting my daughter?” The words stuck hard against his tongue.
“No sir,” Kit answered. “I’m not considering it at all. I’m doing it. I’ll ask you a final time to step aside or be arrested.”
“Come on,” Ryan took the young womans arm. “Let’s get you into the car.”
“Are you crazy!” She snapped. “I’ll-”
“I’d be careful what you say.” Kit twisted the young woman’s wrist causing a loud and painful crack to ring through the hallways. “Oops.”
“You’re making a mistake, detective.” Said the senator. “I’ve got a lot of power in this place. I can make your life harder than you can imagine.”
“She’ll be at the station if you’d like to speak to her.” Ryan answered.
Chapter 11
“Here you go.” Kit placed a cup of fresh coffee on her partners desk. “It’s called Death Strike or something. Apparently it has enough caffeine to wake the departed.”
Ryan lifted the steaming cup to his lips.
To call the coffee strong would have been a gross understatement. The stuff was bitter and overwhelmingly powerful in both taste and aroma. The detectives taste buds reacted in a way they hadn’t since eating too much sour candy as a small kid.
“Wow…” he swallowed hard and placed it back on the counter. “Makes quite the statement, doesn’t it?”
“I guess I haven’t been sleeping much,” she sighed. “It’s either this or walk around like zombie toast all day.”
“Zombie toast?”
“I don’t know…” she shrugged.
A slight chill wafted through the air thanks to the newly acquired arctic-level HVAC system Chief Evans managed to get approved three weeks prior. Icy-cold air blew from the vents with such force Ryan’s office felt more like a tundra than an actual police station.
“Can’t we put this thing on a lower setting?” He looked to the small ceiling vent.
“I don’t mind it actually.” Kit shrugged. “Feels like winter in Jersey.”
Sitting silently in his chair Ryan tried his best to choke down the small cup of coffee while his partner was well into her second serving. A slow silence filled the air as he thought about the small scene that had just erupted in the hospital.
He pictured the frightened look on the childs face and the confusion in his eyes. Childhood could be a sensitive time and no one knew that better than Ryan Devereux. Growing up penniless and without a father came with its own special set of hurdles. But, he thought, having a father only to lose him in such a violent and frightening way was likely no walk in the park either.
“This is for you,” a young officer said knocking on the door.
He was tall and thin, the kind of thin that made Ryan a little nervous for him. As an officer he should be able to handle himself, to hold his own in an altercation should the moment arrive. A few kittens could have overpowered him judging by his body mass, Ryan figured.
“Who was that?” Ryan asked.
“New guy.” Kit answered. “Used to be a semi-professional kickboxer, I think.”
“Him, really?”
“Hey, a book by its cover. Right?”
“I guess…” Ryan opened the envelope to find a freshly burned DVD. He popped the disc into his computer and fired up the video.
Kit rolled her large chair closer and leaned in. Scrubbing ahead Ryan settled on the first image of Holly Waters. Wheeling a small suitcase she stepped into the frame and headed
for a red truck he hadn’t remembered seeing in the parking lot.
Following a few seconds behind was a young muscular man with dark hair. Though the camera was roughly fifty feet away Ryan was able to make out light stubble covering his neck and face. He wore dark jeans and a fitted grey t-shirt.
Both young and attractive the pair seemed to make a nice couple. Ryan watched, studying their movements and looking for anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing. For all intents and purposes each of them seemed happy. The young man even stopped to place a kiss on Holly’s forehead.
“That’s Gus Greenfield.” Kit said.
“That makes him the last person to see Holly alive.” Ryan answered, his eyes still glued to the video. “There’s no one else in this frame. No witnesses.”
“They seemed content.” Kit answered. “I wouldn’t have thought anything of this if I’d have seen it. I doubt anyone else would have either.”
“We need to speak with Gus.” Ryan said.
Kit wheeled her large grey chair back across the room and began typing. Ryan lifted the still steaming coffee and chocked down another sip. It was still bitter and still much too powerful but he was beginning to grow a little more used to the flavor. Still, he thought, this wasn’t something he saw himself actually buying.
“His show should be airing tonight,” she said. “Nine o’clock until midnight.”
“You don’t have to hang around that long,” he said. “I can handle it.”
“Please,” she scoffed. “What else have I got going on?”
“What about Jackson?” He asked. “Aren’t you and he-”
“We are,” she mused. “But he’s staying with his brother tonight.”
“Why?”
“He got into an accident.” Kit wrinkled her brow. “Didn’t you know?”
“No… what happened?”
“He was on an ATV. Flipped the thing in the marsh and got pinned under it for like two hours before anyone knew. He’s okay, he didn’t break anything but he struggled so much he tore ligaments in both arms and his back.”