A Dark Horse

by Cooper, Blayne

  He snorted derisively, watching her closely, wariness seeping from every breath. “Every cop in town knows your place got robbed. And how you went crazy over your ‘friend’ when the ambulance arrived.” Morrell faux pouted. “Paramedics gossip worse than cops. Anyway, I was so sorry to hear about her unfortunate accident.”

  Adele felt the growl rise up inside her like a rocket, only barely able to hold it in at the last second. “I’ll bet you were. But somehow I think you’re going to be more sorry about the talk I had with Hobson.” Adele’s grin was genuine. “He rolled over on you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Oh, yes, he really did.” She reached into her inside jacket pocket and Morrell jerked away, his own hand coming down to rest on his gun.

  She stopped moving. “Relax. I have something for you.” Slowly, she began to pull out an envelope. “See? Nothing dangerous.”

  “For me?” Morrell looked skeptical.

  She nodded, and passed it over, refusing to let it go for a second until he looked her in the eye. “You really deserve this.”

  “Is it from Hobson? I don’t—” He opened the envelope and pulled out a thick stack of twenty-dollar bills bound together with a rubber band.

  “It’s not from Billy. It’s from me. It’s an offer in case you want to do things the easy way. I was wondering if now I could have you on my payroll the way your boss on the NOPD has you on his?”

  “Go to hell,” Morrell snarled and threw the envelope back against Adele’s chest, the stack of bills bouncing off her and landing on her lap.

  She ignored it.

  Morrell’s eyes flashed. “If Hobson said anything worthwhile, not that there is anything to say, mind you,” he clarified in a sarcastic voice, “I’d be in custody right now and not wasting my time jerking off to your moving lips in some graveyard. Fuck you. I’m outta here.”

  He moved to stand, but Adele grabbed his sleeve. “You were right about him. About Billy. He told me you always said he was the weakest link.”

  Slowly, Morrell relaxed back to the bench.

  Adele released his sleeve and scooted a bit farther down the bench, far enough that he would have to lean to reach her. She had his undivided attention.

  “He really was the weakest link,” she went on conversationally. “And that weak link is currently in Baton Rouge. He decided to take a little drive there yesterday seeing as how I have a friend on the force in Baton Rouge who was willing to help by taking his statement. I understand Hobson has been very, very talkative. Not that it matters. I already had a long talk with him myself where he explained how you tried to pin Joshua Phillips’s murder on poor Crisco.”

  “Not that shit again.” Morrell rolled his eyes. “You just can’t leave it alone, can you?” He shook his head mockingly. “Didn’t you see what happened last time you fucked with things you shouldn’t have?”

  “I guess I didn’t learn my lesson,” Adele admitted with blunt honesty. “I can be stubborn that way.”

  “Crisco is dead and buried in some potter’s field. The word of a disgraced cop against mine won’t mean shit, especially coming from you.” Morrell snorted. “If this is why you called me out here, you wasted both our time.”

  “Trust me, it gets better. Even though he was wetting his pants while he was doing it, Billy then explained how you got a private call on your cell instructing you to go to the Dixie Brewery that night.”

  The blood began to drain from Morrell’s face.

  Bingo. “And how you sat there, someplace you should have never been to begin with, and waited at the brewery until you could pick up the dispatch. And that gave me an idea!” Adele tapped her temple lightly. “I thought, ‘wouldn’t it be interesting if I found out who had been the dispatch supervisor that night?’”

  Despite the cold breeze, sweat formed on Morrell’s heavy brow. “You’re not on the force anymore, those records can’t—”

  “I couldn’t get them. But a cop from another town can make a simple phone call to check on it…for a case. As a courtesy, NOPD supplies it in an instant. It was easy. Don’t you remember when the Police Union insisted all schedule records be retained to ensure cops didn’t get screwed out of overtime? Everything is on computer. It took like five minutes. The dispatch supervisor is being picked up for questioning tonight.”

  Morrell looked like he might barf.

  Excitement sang through Adele as she continued to speak. “And then I had another idea! I thought, that dispatch supervisor did someone a really big solid that night, holding that dispatch call until you and Hobson were on the scene, I wonder if she got paid a little bonus for her efforts? I wonder whether her bank account will show a bump in the next day or so? And—”

  “Bitch!” Morrell seethed. He made a move that was perilously close to his gun.

  “Freeze!” she shouted, eyes wide.

  His smile was arctic as he looked down at her empty hands. “Why should I?”

  “Because you’ll be dead before it’s out of the holster. Look at your chest, nice and slowly.”

  He frowned, but did as she asked. And in the center of his chest was a glowing red dot. He glanced around wildly but couldn’t see anyone.

  “That’s courtesy of my ex-husband Landry. You remember him, right? The homicide detective who was also Marine Recon with sniper qualifications?”

  “Fuck me.”

  “No, thanks. We’ve already established I find even the thought of your dick repulsive.”

  She slowly pulled her phone out and pressed a few buttons. “Now, I just told Landry that you’re being very threatening. If you try to get up or go anywhere near your weapon, he will shoot you.” That wasn’t what she’d texted, but Morrell would find that out soon enough. “In fact, you know what, hands in the air.”

  Adele moved around behind him so that she was never in Landry’s line of fire and removed Morrell’s gun before taking her seat back at the other end of the bench.

  Morrell crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t know the shit you’re playing in.”

  “Oh, yes, I do. Did you ever make those domino chains when you were a kid?”

  “Who the fuck cares?”

  “You know, where you line up the dominoes and then push one and they all start tumbling down in a big line? That’s what’s already happened. Hobson was the first domino. The dispatch supervisor was next. They’re all falling down, and they’re all leading to you. And best of all, you can’t stop it.”

  The fear showed plainly in his eyes now. “You don’t understand!”

  “I understand that you are filthy, fucking dirty and on the take!”

  She pointed an accusing finger in his face. “I understand that you ran drugs and money for your boss and got off on roughing up suspects. I understand that your boss killed Joshua Phillips and then called you to come cover it up by blaming Crisco. I understand that your boss had the dispatch held until you could guarantee you’d be the first and only cops on the scene. I understand that I walked in and saw you in the middle of convincing Crisco that he’d better go along with your plan.”

  Defiant, Morrell sat there, his face hard as stone. Only his eyes were savage, like a beast desperately seeking a way to break free from his cage.

  “I understand that you tanked Hobson’s career and scared him into leaving town and staying away. I understand that when Crisco recanted his confession and was released from jail, you killed him.”

  “I didn’t!” Morrell denied hotly, and for a second, Adele was surprised to find herself wondering whether he might actually be telling the truth. It was the first thing in her laundry list of his misdeeds that he’d even bothered to deny.

  Adele shrugged carelessly. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I’m not going down for murder…” he mumbled to himself repeatedly, looking shaken this was really happening.

  “Then we come to poor Misty. She had Joshua’s phone and your boss wanted that phone.”

  He made a face. “I hat
e those nasty junkies, but it wasn’t me that killed her.”

  A slight narrowing of her eyes was Adele’s only outer reaction. He’d just confirmed another homicide. She still didn’t know what was on the phone that was so important, but that didn’t change the chain of events. “Then you broke into my inn and you…” She had to stop to swallow thickly. “And you strangled Natalie.”

  “Dammit! I didn’t do that either!”

  Adele’s hands shaped into fists and she leaned close to his face, too close, well within his meaty reach, unable to contain her fury. Her voice was low, and deadly, and sounded foreign to her own ears. “I’m going to make sure you get the needle. I’m going to be there when they stab it into your arm and push in the poison, you son of a bitch. I’m going to watch and smile while you twitch, and gasp, and writhe as you try to draw in a deep breath but your body won’t listen to your feeble, mushy brain anymore.”

  Sweating freely, Morrell glanced down at his chest again. That red dot was still there, mocking him, never moving.

  Adele could feel that he wanted to rip her throat out, feel the hatred rolling off him. She smiled. “You want to come at me, right? Shut me up. It must hurt that a woman is doing this to you, right? Bringing everything down. Embarrassing you. Making you feel small and shriveled,” Adele taunted mercilessly.

  His chest started to heave.

  “I was better than you at the academy, and as a cop, and I’m better now. Go ahead! Do it!” she shouted and spread her arms open as far as they would go. “Save the state the trouble of killing you later!”

  He looked at her with his mouth hanging slightly open, panting, as though he was seeing her for the first time.

  Adele caught a glimpse of a distorted version of herself reflected back in his livid gaze…and she applied the brakes…and slid a little farther down the bench. Jesus. Her heart was jackhammering and she felt a little ill that she really did want Morrell to make a move so Landry would shoot him. Too close.

  Her phone buzzed and she ignored it.

  “But, Morrell,” she paused to lick her lips, her mouth dry, “there’s a way you could avoid the needle, you know. Just give me a name. I’ll help you get a deal.”

  He shook his head, resolutely. “No.”

  “Surely your boss isn’t worth dying for?”

  “Giving you a name makes me as good as dead anyway. I’ll take my chances with a New Orleans jury.”

  Adele sighed. “I thought you would say that.” She pulled out her phone and looked at the screen, grinning broadly. “By the way, I made a new friend this morning. He’s well and truly awful.”

  “Are you a psych case or somethin’?” Morrell wondered aloud, drawing his head back.

  “Do you read the Times-Picayune? Though I really doubt you’re smart enough to understand more than the comics.”

  His face turned an interesting shade of purple. She’d struck a nerve. “I read! I mean, I read the paper in the shitter every day!”

  She raised both eyebrows doubtfully. “Sure you do. Then you’ll know all about my new friend Winston Benoit.”

  Morrell’s eyes bugged out. “The fucking prick reporter who hates cops?”

  Adele shivered. “I know.” Benoit had crucified the NOPD in his articles after Hurricane Katrina. He might be the only person in town less popular with the police than she was. “Benoit is almost as vile as you. Anyway, he’s superexcited about these.”

  She slid her phone down the white stone bench. It didn’t quite make it all the way to Morrell and he began to reach for it, but stopped, his hand frozen in midair. The red dot had followed his every move.

  “It’s okay,” she assured him softly. “You can take it.”

  Morrell picked up the phone and his jaw sagged as he looked at the crystal clear photograph of him taking an envelope from Adele.

  “Be sure to scroll. There are several. My favorite is the last one. It got my dimples.”

  With a dry swallow, Morrell swiped his meaty finger across the screen. The next photo was of him opening the envelope with Adele’s gaze turned sideways as if she was worried they were being watched. The last photo was of him taking out a big wad of cash with Adele looking on and beaming like a fool.

  Morrell closed his eyes.

  “Can’t you see tomorrow’s headline? It will for sure include the words ‘Dirty Cop’ and ‘Rat’ and ‘Cover-up.’ You know, shit like that. I’m going to make sure that everyone in New Orleans knows you’ve been throwing me tidbits of info about your crooked boss as I investigate what really happened at the Dixie Brewery, and that because of you, I’m almost onto him.”

  Flabbergasted, Morrell sputtered, “You can’t do that!”

  “Of course, I can. I’m not an officer of the court nowadays. I can lie and cheat. I don’t wear a white hat anymore thanks to you. My hat’s more gray, and it lets me do horrible shit like this.”

  “Bu-but-but—”

  “Here’s what’s going to happen: Landry can take you into the protective custody of the Baton Rouge Police Department where no terrible ‘accident’ will befall you and where you can make a dirtball deal with the DA. Or…”

  “Or what? I can’t do that! I can’t.”

  Adele felt a twinge of satisfaction. Hobson had been right. Morrell was gnawing on his lower lip so hard she wasn’t sure there was going to be much left by the time he was through. He was terrified of whoever was pulling his strings.

  “Or, Landry is going to take you into custody, but he’s going to hand you right over to the NOPD. He’s going to give them the details of Hobson’s confession. He happens to have a written copy with him. It’s more than enough to hold you. Unlike me, Landry managed to leave with at least a few friends on the force.

  “He’s going to make sure they all know that I want revenge for my career going down the tubes, and that you’ve been stringing me along with details about someone corrupt and high up in the force, but you haven’t spilled all the beans quite yet. You’ll spend half your night in an interrogation room where so many people know who you are that your dirty boss won’t be able to save you, and the other half of the night in a quiet cell away from the general jail population, where your boss or one of his minions can easily get to you.”

  She let that soak in for a few seconds and nodded to herself when she saw the horror dawn on Morrell’s stupid face. “Remember what I said about those dominoes? Landry’s friends are going to ‘confidentially’ tell their friends, and their friends will tell their friends. Soon everyone is going to know that you have a big secret that is just bursting to be set free so you can make a deal with the DA.”

  “No one will believe you,” he cried desperately, though Morrell didn’t look as though he could even convince himself. “I’m no narc!”

  Natalie inclined her head in disbelief. “Seriously?”

  Still rebellious, he nodded.

  “You’re a greedy dumb bastard. Your boss paid you to do disgusting things, and you did other grotesque things just because you liked it. Do you really think your boss is going to believe you wouldn’t sell him out to me on moral grounds? Besides, how is he going to doubt that I’ve been buying information from you when it’s there in living color in the newspaper?” She let out a low whistle. “It’s going to crank the heat so high…”

  “He has people at the jail!” Morrell blurted frantically.

  Yes! She pumped a mental fist.

  “I-I-I won’t last the night!”

  Adele shrugged one shoulder, looking utterly unconcerned even though her stomach was rolling over on itself. “Probably not. But that’s your problem, not mine. Now decide what you’re doing. I don’t have all day.”

  She texted Landry—who was comfortably perched on the second-floor balcony of a home across the street, his rifle trained at Morrell’s chest—that it was time to come in. Adele had picked his location very carefully. This was her childhood neighborhood, and she knew people in most of the houses up and down the street lining the cem
etery. She’d had her first kiss on the very balcony where Landry was packing up shop and was well aware of its view into the cemetery.

  “What?” Morrell screeched, voice uncharacteristically high. “I can’t decide right this second. I need to think.” He began gesturing wildly. “I need—”

  Adele pulled her gun from the back of her pants and trained it on Morrell. “Hands on your head!” she barked, rising to her feet. “I need a name.”

  Morrell was torn. She could see that. Confusion emanated from his every sweaty pore, but he obeyed immediately and clasped his hands on his head. “But—”

  “No buts!” This was the time to press. He was starting to crumble. He’d believed everything she’d said even though much of it was a pack of lies.

  Adele had never contacted Winston Benoit. Landry had taken the photos of her and Morrell with a high-powered camera and sent them to her burner cell from his. The phones and the camera’s memory card would disappear after this conversation so Morrell wouldn’t have proof for a claim of coercion.

  Adele hadn’t even tried to find the dispatch supervisor from the night of Josh’s murder yet. She didn’t want to tip anyone off that she was looking.

  Billy Hobson was still tucked safely away in the Shreveport Hilton, most likely tearing through the minibar, and certainly not talking to any Baton Rouge cops.

  But, the offer for Landry to take Morrell into custody in Baton Rouge was true. Well, it was more than an offer. Landry was going to pop Morrell and haul him back to Baton Rouge one way or another tonight. Morrell just didn’t know it yet.

  “Tell me your decision, Morrell, or deal with the NOPD and a boss who has no problem committing murder.” She gave him a look of revulsion. “I’m done with you. Your boss is going down one way or another, and so are you. Do you really want to wonder for the rest of your short life how he’s going to finish you off?”

  “I…” It began to rain and Morrell looked up at the sky and let the drops hit his face. His big body was trembling. “Shit. Shit! Fine!”

  Adele’s heart stopped. “Who?”