Law and Murder

by Rusty Ellis

  Ransom attempted to step out of Leesa’s unmarked cruiser and a deep-ache sparked to life in his right leg. The aged wound from his past life in the military a pained reminder of his service. He stretched his leg and planted his cane on the hot asphalt. The 108 degree temperature cooked the soles of his feet. The road tar stuck to the rubber tip of his cane as he maneuvered and stood. Meeting Leesa at the trunk where she locked her gun, ammo, and pocket knife in the gun box fastened inside the trunk of her car. Ransom pulled his Glock from the middle of his back and added it to an empty corner of the safe and flipped the lid shut.

  “Ready?” Leesa asked.

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  The former partners walked along side one another to the glass front doors of the building. Ransom leaned in and grabbed the heated metal handle and opened the door for Leesa and then followed her through. A woman sitting at a desk near the front door acted excited to see visitors.

  “Can I help you?” she smiled.

  “Yes, we have an appointment to see Larry Foster,” Leesa shared.

  The woman reached for a clipboard hanging next to her desk, “Let’s see. Detective Gardner?”

  Leesa smiled and showed her badge.

  “And Detective Walsh?” she glanced at Ransom.

  “Retired detective,” Ransom corrected and showed his retirement credentials.

  The woman jotted down their information on the clipboard and had both of them sign and write the current date and time.

  “Make sure and sign out when you leave,” she continued to smile. “So many people forget to sign out. Just step over there and the officer will run you through the metal detector and get you where you need to be.”

  “Thanks,” Ransom offered.

  Leesa passed through the metal detector first, followed by Ransom. The young female guard took a look at Ransom’s cane and started to comment, but decided to let it go.

  Ransom and Leesa were escorted to a cement room just inside the walls of the prison. Despite the heat outside, the room was chilled. A single chair was on either side of a metal table in the middle of the room.

  “Let me get you another chair,” the guard stated and left momentarily.

  The sound of heavy doors shutting and locks releasing echoed in the background. Ransom and Leesa waited for the guard to return with the chair before both of them sat down next to each other on one side of the table.

  The door straight across from them clacked loudly and Foster appeared in the doorway. He gave a smug smile to Ransom and then turned and raised an eyebrow in Leesa’s direction. Not waiting for instructions, he began his slow shuffle toward the table. The chains around his waist and ankles jingled with each step until he reached the metal chair opposite Ransom and Leesa. A guard followed Foster into the room and shut the door. He retreated to the corner and leaned against the wall, uninterested in the visitors or their conversation with the prisoner.

  “Detective Ransom Walsh,” Foster grinned. “And you brought a pretty lady with you. Nice.”

  “Cut the crap Foster, you asked for me to come out here. This is Detective Gardner, she was my partner before I retired.”

  “So how is that retirement thing going? Word on the street is you’re still chasing criminals around Vegas,” Foster leaned back in his chair, clasping his handcuffed hands in his lap.

  “Why did you call me out here, Foster?” Ransom was losing his patience.

  “I had a visitor yesterday,” Foster beamed.

  “Good for you.”

  “Aw, come on. Don’t you wanna know who it was?”

  Ransom was getting tired of Foster’s game and started to stand up when Foster continued, “Okay, okay. It was Sara Turing.”

  Ransom’s jaw tightened at the name. Leesa could see the anger on Ransom’s face and gave him a curious look. Growling, Ransom turned to Leesa to explain, “That was the victim’s daughter.” Ransom turned back to Foster, “She was only 12 years old when Foster killed her mother.”

  “I know,” Foster interjected. “So it’s weird she wanted to meet with me, right?”

  Ransom leaned forward and made eye contact with Foster. Leesa slid to the edge of her seat, ready to intercede.

  “What did she want?”

  Foster sat up straight and responded, “She wanted to know who was behind me killing her mom. She wanted to know who paid me.”

  “And?”

  “And I didn’t tell her,” Foster leaned against the back of his chair.

  Ransom stood and motioned to Leesa, “Let’s go. I’m not playing this game with him.”

  Leesa put her hand up to stop Ransom and looked at Foster, “Why did you want to meet with Ransom?”

  “Ahhh, a level head. No doubt you played the good cop when you two interviewed people.”

  Ransom remained standing, poised to leave. Foster looked at Ransom and waited for him to return to his seat before continuing.

  “I didn’t tell her because it could kill her.”

  Leesa asked, “You don’t think she could handle the truth of knowing?”

  Foster looked at Leesa, “No, if she tried to figure out who was behind all this they would kill her.”

  “You’ve got three minutes, Foster,” the guard in the corner called out.

  “They?” Ransom chimed in.

  Foster leaned toward the table, encouraging Ransom to do the same, “The Sartori family.”

  Ransom leaned back in his chair at the sound of the name. Looking into the distance, he tried to piece together the puzzle, adding in another piece he hadn’t had before.

  Ransom muttered, “The Sartori crime family?”

  Foster nodded.

  “Why would they want her dead?” Ransom couldn’t figure out the connection or how the new puzzle piece fit.

  Foster shrugged and sat back up, “I don’t know. I did a little asking around and the bagman that gave me the money was a Sartori street soldier.”

  “Times up, Foster,” the guard in the corner pushed away from the wall and started toward the table.

  Foster stood and paused, “The guy’s name was Gianni. That’s all I know.”

  The guard reached the table and motioned for Foster to follow him, “Let’s go.”

  Leesa couldn’t help but ask, “Why are you telling us this now?”

  Foster gave another shrug and smiled, “My daughter’s about the same age as that girl. Maybe I’m getting soft in here, but she needs to be careful about the questions she asking.”

  “If you wanna share anything else, out of the kindness of your heart of course, call me,” Ransom offered.

  Leesa gave Ransom a confused look. Ransom pulled a pen out of his pocket and reached across the table while the guard was busy unlocking the door. Foster stuck out his hand and Ransom quickly scribbled his number on Foster’s palm.

  “I’ll call you collect,” Foster laughed and stood.

  Foster shuffled to where the guard was waiting by the open door and exited without looking back. Ransom and Leesa sat watching Foster leave, attempting to process what they’d learned.

  “You sure that was a good idea? Giving him your number, I mean?” Leesa raised an eyebrow.

  “I get bored, a phone call wouldn’t hurt once and a while.”

  “So, what now?” Leesa finally questioned.

  “I’d say we need to find Gianni…”

  3

  Leesa dropped Ransom back at his house. The drive up and back in the summer heat zapped Ransom’s energy. How anyone could be a manual worker in the Las Vegas heat was beyond him. He’d spent days outside, more so when he was a beat cop in uniform, but rarely did he spend long stretches outdoors unless he was on a specific assignment.

  Ransom sat in the living room in his recliner with both legs up. He grabbed the remote in hopes there would be at least one sports show talking about college football predictions prior to the onset of the season. A noise from the hallway caught his attention and he looked up to see his daughter in her pajamas.
She gave a lazy smile and waved as she made her way into the kitchen.

  “Good morning, babe,” Ransom laughed. “Or should I say afternoon?”

  Maddie grumbled something back in response but Ransom was unable to make out the words. Maddie’s schedule as a paramedic was daunting. Her normal schedule of working swing shift was being riddled with double shifts and working graveyard as well. Ransom could tell the schedule was taking a toll on her. She kept brushing off his comments, responding that things would get better as soon as a few more new hires made it through their background investigations. Ransom decided to let the battle go and just keep an eye on her for now. He could put his foot down hard, but more than likely end up stepping on her toes. Unfortunately, she was as stubborn as he was.

  “I didn’t hear you come in last night,” Ransom called to the kitchen.

  Maddie made her way into the living room and plopped down on the sofa with a bowl of cereal in her hand. Her hair was wedged to one side, no doubt the matching indent was left by her bed pillow.

  Maddie took a big bite and crunched loudly. With her mouth half-full, she laughed at her own response, “I was like a ninja.” A little milk escaped the corner of her mouth.

  “Dork,” Ransom laughed and shook his head.

  He couldn’t be much prouder of how far his daughter had come. At only 20 years old, she had taken life by the horns; school and working as a paramedic with goals of getting hired by one of the local fire departments. Ransom was pleased with how high she had set her aspirations, but more impressed she was taking the steps necessary to make them more than a dream. A grin spread across his face as he watched her dab at her mouth.

  “What?” Maddie stopped chewing to meet her father’s gaze.

  “Nothing. For having bedhead you still look pretty cute.”

  Maddie rolled her eyes, “So where were you this morning.”

  Ransom decided to give her a basic rundown on the trip out to the prison and an overview of the connected crime. Maddie continued to eat her cereal during the story, no changes in facial expression, no comments about the crime. Ransom assumed her lack of reaction was a combination of growing up a detective’s daughter, and of working as an EMT.

  “So you’re going to take on the case?” Maddie set the empty bowl on her lap.

  “I may poke around a little bit and see if the guy’s blowing smoke at us or if he’s telling the truth.”

  Maddie stood and shook her head, “You’re taking the case. I can hear it in your voice.”

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Ransom countered.

  She stopped and squinted at him, locking eyes with her father. He finally broke down and started laughing.

  “You’re taking the case,” she turned and continued into the kitchen for another bowl of cereal.

  Ransom decided to change the subject, “Talk to your mom recently?”

  Maddie returned to the living room with another full bowl, “Yeah, yesterday. She’s doing pretty good. I told her we could meet up for lunch this week.”

  Ransom was happy to hear she was still staying in contact with her mother. He truly wasn’t interested in hearing much more about it, only that Maddie was doing it.

  “You went out with Teresa last night?” Maddie again dove into her cereal.

  “Pizza,” Ransom smiled. “Luckily she loves pizza. I may just keep her around for a while.”

  “Guys are so basic. Is she coming over anytime soon? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

  “Probably the first of the week. She’s stuck chasing a story this weekend. No rest for my busy little investigative reporter.”

  “Let me know when, it would be good to see her soon.” Maddie looked down at her watch, “Oh, crap! I gotta get going!” Maddie slurped the milk from her bowl as she rushed to the kitchen then into her bedroom.

  Ransom picked up the remote and returned to finding a sports channel. He settled on a show right when it went to commercial.

  Ransom grabbed a note pad off the end table next to his chair and pulled a pen from his front pocket. He jotted down “Larry” on the pad. He then drew a line upward and wrote, “Gianni - Sartori soldier.” Above that he drew another line with a question mark symbol. From Gianni, he drew a line to the left and put “Paula Turing - victim” followed by a line straight down from Paula to her daughter, “Sara Turing - daughter.” Ransom held the pad up in front of him. Gianni was the central piece among Larry, Paula, and the question mark.

  Where are you Gianni?

  Ransom’s cellphone vibrated in his shirt pocket. He pulled out his phone and looked down to see a text message, “Teresa: Hey you! Just wanted to say hi.”

  “Ransom: Hey back. Busy?”

  “Teresa: Unfortunately, yes. Crime and being a reporter = job security. Win. But tired.”

  “Ransom: I bet. I figured you needed to recover tomorrow. See you Monday?”

  “Teresa: That would be great. And yes, need the rest!”

  “Ransom: Talk then. Be careful. Dig you.”

  “Teresa: Dig u too. :)”

  4

  “Sara!”

  Sara looked up from the desk in the loft, “I’m up here, dad.”

  Sara could hear her father walking up the carpeted steps of their home. The top of his head appeared above the pony wall looking into the loft. He stopped short of the top step and rested his forearms on top of the wall.

  “What’re you up to?” he asked.

  “Just trying to catch up on some classwork so I don’t have to do it tomorrow,” she smiled at her father.

  Her father’s version of being casual on a Saturday was slacks and a dress shirt without a tie. Life as an attorney had ruined his sense of comfort and lounging at home.

  “I need to ask you about something,” he took the last step up the stairs and walked over to stand by where she was sitting.

  “Go ahead,” she shrugged and continued to smile.

  “Why did you go out to the prison yesterday?”

  Caught off guard, Sara stuttered and tried to come up with a valid explanation as to why she’d visited her mother’s killer. “I just had some questions for him,” her face went somber at the reality of her visit.

  Her father sat in a chair next to the desk and reached out to hold her hand in his. “And did you get your questions answered?”

  “No. Not really,” Sara shrugged and dropped her head down on her chest.

  She felt a hand under her chin, lifting it up to meet her father’s gaze, “Sorry to hear that, sweetheart. Do you plan on going back again?”

  Sara shrugged and felt her eyes well up with tears. She took several deep breaths to control her emotions from running down her cheeks.

  “We need to just move on, Sara. There’s nothing more we can do about it that wasn’t already done through the court system.”

  Her father stood and pulled her up to him. He hugged her and waited for the tears to fall. Sara gave in and buried her head in her father’s chest and held on. She missed her mother. She was scared. Not scared about anything physical. Scared she was starting to forget her mother. Forgetting the way she looked. Forgetting her voice. Forgetting the small things about her.

  “We’re going to be okay,” her father reassured her. “I’m always here for you.”

  Part III

  Sunday

  5

  Ransom picked up the phone and called Leesa, “Hey.”

  “Hey, Ransom. What’s going on?”

  “Just wondering what you want to do about the info we got from Foster yesterday?”

  “It’s a long shot. The amount of time since the crime and a single name, Gianni.”

  “We’ve done more with less information,” Ransom couldn’t help but smile. He knew she was smiling from his comment on the other end of the call.

  “True. But then again, you always had me to rely on,” she gave in and laughed out loud.

  “Always the humble one,” Ransom laughed back. “Do you want to meet up tomorrow and s
ee what we can find?”

  “Works for me. I’ll pick you up around nine.”

  “Sleeping in?”

  “Nah, just need to clear up a little paperwork before we start something new.”

  “And what about Gabe? I spoke with him about a week or so ago and I thought he was coming back on the job?”

  Leesa was silent for a few seconds before replying, “He decided to ask for a transfer this week. He's going into the robbery detail. Working homicide was just a little too close to home I guess.”

  The thought of Gabe and Kathryn’s loss was still painful. He’d been over to visit the once cheerful home, but since the murder of their daughter and her family a sullen cloud had taken up permanent residence over the home.

  “Glad to hear he’s coming back at least. It may help in the long run.”

  “Maybe,” Leesa didn’t sound so convinced.

  “Tomorrow at nine then,” Ransom bridged the silence.

  “Tomorrow.”

  6

  Averett Turing sat in his home office going through the next day’s agenda. He struggled to keep his mind on the upcoming day and away from his daughter’s visit to see Foster. Had she asked permission to go, he would have forbidden it. Or at least he would have strongly discouraged her visit.

  Averett leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Sara missed her mom. He missed his wife. No 12-year-old should ever have to grow up without their mother. He certainly wasn’t prepared to raise his daughter alone. The initial outpouring from family and friends were supportive and needed. But with time, the support wore off. The calls less frequent. The stopping by trickled to a stop as well. He couldn’t fault them. They had their own lives and families to focus on. In the end, it was him and Sara.

  He couldn’t help but be grateful. Given the loss of her mother, it was amazing how well Sara had turned out. Once they worked through her freshman and sophomore year of high school, things started to turn and she was able to take hold of her life. She was able to settle on a path she wanted to take, including going to college at UNLV. With her freshman year at college coming to a close, he was thrilled at how hard she was working at school, and working part time at his law practice. She had her mother’s empathy for those around her and his love of learning and education. The combination garnered strong friends and impressed professors.