Never Girl

by Ana Valen

  “Not much. I finished checking those license plates from the parking lot. It took about four hours.”

  “Four hours?”

  Yes, Adams was a worker. Problematically so.

  “Yeah,” he responded. “I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything. That meant following up on fifty-six plates.”

  “Jesus.”

  He gave her a look.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to use the lord’s name in vain… again.”

  Adams let his look linger a moment longer. “Anyway, the plates didn’t lead to anything. They belonged to random people from the west side, all of them wealthy. I got two criminal hits, but in both instances, the offenders were young folks with too much money.”

  “Drug and alcohol charges?”

  “Exactly. So nobody fit the profiles of murderers. And what do you have?”

  “The critical link.”

  “Come again?”

  She leaned in slightly. “You remember how our plan was to research Jessie’s life?”

  “Yeah. We were going to look into his female relationships.”

  “Right. I got started last night. I found out that his female relationships were lovely… all except for his sister.”

  “So the money angle is back in play?”

  “No, no. This is personal. Their history is deep and complicated.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m not exactly sure. But I do know that Claire’s history includes physical trauma, and that Jessie is connected to this.”

  “How did you verify the connection?”

  “By speaking with James Reed. He was Jessie’s best friend.”

  Adams turned his chair to face her head on. “You talked to this guy without me?”

  “Jesus, Adams, it was almost nine o’clock.”

  He pursed his lips.

  “Dammit. Sorry. I’ll try to watch my lan—”

  “I’m not mad about that. I’m mad that you questioned a suspect alone.”

  She opened her hands. “You’ve told me over and over not to interfere with your family life. I’m assuming that a 9:00pm trip to Santa Monica would’ve interfered.”

  “Right. But we could’ve gone this morning.”

  “I didn’t want to wait.”

  “Yeah. I’ve noticed that about you.”

  She cast an annoyed look about the room.

  “So,” he went on, “what did you find out?”

  She tamped down her irritation and refocused. “Like I said, Jessie is linked to Claire’s traumatic past.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. When I asked James about this, he clammed up.”

  “Let me guess. You asked him outright?”

  “No, I did not. I softened him with general questions beforehand.”

  “Wow. You actually followed procedures. Imagine that.”

  “Come on, Adams. I’ve been an officer for eight years. I know what I’m doing.”

  “But you’ve had less than one year as a detective.”

  Her anger came bubbling back. “I succeeded, alright? I identified a link between our victim and a likely suspect.”

  Adams looked away and contemplatively worked his jaw. “We should go see Claire.”

  “I agree. Should we give her any warning?”

  “No. Let’s surprise her. And we’ll do good cop, bad cop.” He stood and grabbed his jacket. “You know which one you are.”

  She made another effort to tamp down her anger. That was more challenging this time around.

  Fifteen minutes later, Raven and Adams arrived at Claire’s Westwood condo. Raven parked on the street, shut off the engine, and they climbed out. As always, they opened the backseat, grabbed their suit jackets, and simultaneously slipped them on.

  After entering the slate-gray edifice, they approached the reception desk.

  “Good morning,” the female receptionist greeted. “How can I help you?”

  “Good morning,” Adams replied. “I’m Detective David Adams. This is my partner, Detective Stacy Raven. We’re here to see a tenant, Claire Jacobson.”

  “No problem. Do you know where she’s located?”

  “Room B12. Could you by chance point us in this direction?”

  “Sure. Just take those elevators to your left. Once you get to the second floor, get off and make a right. It won’t be far. Maybe three doors down.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  The receptionist smiled. “No problem.”

  Raven and Adams walked to the elevators.

  “Funny,” Adams said while pressing the button. “I got the necessary information without breaking her arm.”

  “And that’s the preferred method. But if anyone gives us shit, that’s where I come in.”

  Adams shook his head, but his irritation had clearly cooled. Raven noticed that about him. Whenever he gets uppity, just give him time. The same went for her.

  The elevator doors opened and they entered. They rode up to the second floor, exited, and started down the hallway. After stopping at B12, Adams knocked. Thirty seconds later, he knocked again.

  “Ms. Jacobson,” he called out. “It’s Detective Adams and Detective Raven. Could you please open the door?”

  Still no response.

  “Does she have a morning commitment?” he asked.

  “Not that I know of.”

  “What does she do again?”

  “Freelance journalist. So I doubt she goes into an office.”

  He knocked once more. “Ms. Jacobson?”

  The elevator chimed, and Raven looked in this direction. A moment later, Claire stepped out.

  “Adams,” Raven said.

  Adams likewise looked towards the elevators.

  Claire walked towards them with her head down. A few steps later, she looked up and halted. She quickly resumed her route.

  Raven noticed the pause. Adams surely noticed the same. Neither said anything.

  “Good morning,” Claire said while approaching.

  “Good morning,” Adams replied.

  “You’re out early,” Raven followed. “Where did you go?”

  Claire stopped a few feet away. “To see a friend.”

  “Which one?”

  “Someone I recently met.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where at?”

  “Mid-City.”

  Raven nodded. “For breakfast?”

  “No. For work.”

  “He’s a journalist?”

  “An investigator.”

  Raven glanced at Adams. “What are the odds? So are we.”

  Claire smiled. The gesture seemed forced.

  “Well,” Claire continued, “how can I help you?”

  “Do you mind if we talk inside?” Adams asked.

  “Not at all.”

  Claire opened the door and entered. Raven and Adams followed her in. As Claire locked the door, Adams gave Raven a look. You’re pushing too hard. Raven gave him a look right back. That’s the Goddamn goal.

  “Can I get you anything?” Claire asked.

  “No,” Adams said. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “I’m fine too,” Raven added.

  Claire nodded. “Okay. We can speak in the living room.”

  The trio made their way over.

  Raven and Adams sat on the long couch, and Claire sat on the loveseat.

  “So,” Claire said once more, “how can I help you?”

  “First off,” Adams started, “we wanted to update you on the case. We’re pretty much done with the forensic portion, and now we’ve switched to identifying who was involved.”

  “And who have you identified?”

  Raven leaned forward. “How was your relationship with your brother?”

  Claire turned to her. “So you think it was me?”

  “I’m just asking about your relationship with Jessie.”

  “It had its ups and downs.”

  Raven shrugged. “Sounds like most siblings. But generally, would you say it w
as positive or negative?”

  “Positive.”

  “Does that also apply to your mid-twenties?”

  Claire worked around her lips. “That was one of our down periods.”

  “Can you elaborate?”

  “Why? It has nothing to do with what happened.”

  “Claire,” Adams said, “it might.”

  Raven looked to him. It’s about time he went on the offensive. Not that it mattered. Claire had ceased talking.

  “In these cases,” Adams continued, “assessing motive is important. And if someone had a troubled past with the victim, that could be viewed as motive.”

  “It was a car accident, okay? Jessie was driving and I was in the passenger seat. He crashed, and I was injured. My injury resulted in a hospitalization. I was really upset with Jessie over this. But like I said, it was an accident. He didn’t do it on purpose. Not only that, we both moved on.”

  “Thanks for clearing that up,” Raven said. “But one more question about it. Did you also suffer psychological damage?”

  Claire let a moment pass. “Have you ever been seriously injured?”

  “Not seriously, no.”

  “Then you don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know that psychological harm always accompanies serious physical harm.”

  “Thanks for elaborating. Now we can move on. Where were you on the night of the murder?”

  “Here,” Claire answered without hesitation.

  “Were you alone?” Adams followed.

  “No. But you can verify my presence.”

  “How?” he asked.

  “Like I told you early on, I was watching TV and eating pizza. I played the TV program from my streaming service, so you can check the playback history. As for the pizza, I had that delivered. You can check that through my phone records because I called in the order.”

  “What pizza place?” Raven asked.

  “Mike’s Pizzeria.”

  “On Olympic?” Adams followed.

  “Right.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Thanks for the information. That should help us determine your location.”

  “Your welcome. Was there anything else?”

  “I’m good,” Adams said. He looked to Raven.

  “Nothing on my end,” Raven responded. “Thanks again for your cooperation.”

  “Of course.”

  Raven and Adams stood. Claire likewise rose and led them to the door. After Claire opened it, Raven and Adams stepped out.

  “Oh,” Raven said while turning back. “One more question. What show were you watching again?”

  “Downton Abby.”

  “Ah, yes. Now I remember.” Raven smiled. “I love that show. Who’s your favorite character?”

  Claire took a moment. “Lady Mary.”

  “Really? I figured you would say Thomas Barrow.” Raven grinned. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  She and Adams continued down the hallway.

  Outside of the building, they approached the Crown Vic and climbed aboard.

  “So,” Adams said, “what do you think?”

  “Claire is hiding something. And her responses about where she was that night…”

  “Yeah. They were pretty fast.”

  “Exactly. I’m betting they were preplanned.”

  “I thought the same thing.” Adams nodded towards the road. “Let’s head back to the station. With luck, the warrant for Jessie’s phone will have come through. Maybe there’s a message thread between him and Claire.”

  Raven fired up the engine. “If there is, and it’s useful, I’ll start typing up the warrant for Claire’s phone. It wouldn’t surprise me if she ordered her pizza by the hiking trail.”

  Chapter 20

  Harlan drove northbound on the 405 freeway. He headed to the crime scene where he planned to survey the area. This wasn’t for clues as the police officers already did that, and they likely took anything of value. He wanted to assess the location like he was carrying out the hit. That should elucidate the shooter’s actions.

  Still driving, he entered the stretch of freeway between Los Angeles and the San Fernando Valley. He slowed, took an exit, and made a left. After cutting across a freeway overpass, he started up a windy road. A few minutes later, he pulled into the hiking trail’s parking lot.

  He stayed towards the back, though not to avoid any cameras. He wanted a wide-angle view of the area. He parked his Maxima, climbed out, and glanced around. No other cars were parked nearby. And judging by the pavement, this area seldom experienced vehicle traffic. It also seemed like there was only one pathway up here—the rode he took. Everything else was impassable hilly terrain.

  He turned towards the trail and started walking. He also continued observing his surroundings.

  There were three security cameras at the base of the trail. Once faced the trail and the other two covered the parking lot. If the shooter drove here, the cameras would’ve captured this. If the shooter knew what they were doing, they would have taken precautionary measures, such as bringing a stolen car or concealing themselves. According to the police reports, none of the drivers seemed like a suspect.

  He reached the trail and started up the dirt path. Light foot traffic came in the opposite direction—the people finishing their midmorning hikes. They offered polite smiles, and he did his best to smile back. The gesture was forced and surely unconvincing. He didn’t much care.

  He reached the crest of the hill where the trail officially began. This was where the shooter fired their initial salvo. He stopped and looked around.

  The shooter hid before springing out. But where?

  To the left was a small clearing. He made his way over, stopped, and looked back. The shooter could have waited here, and they probably did. This was the perfect place to let the victim pass before sneaking up from behind. But how did they get here without the cameras noticing them?

  He looked around some more. The surrounding shrubbery was dense, but not too dense. If someone wanted to, they could have traversed it.

  He approached the shrubbery and scanned the terrain. He quickly spotted a pathway through the vegetation. Someone had used that pathway, which was evident given the disturbances dotting the trail. There were also tracks along the dirt.

  He entered the pathway and started down it. He also kept observing the tracks. They were two sets, one coming and one going, and they belonged to the same person. Judging by the shoe sizes, the person was small, perhaps a woman or child. More than likely it was a woman. A child wouldn’t venture this deep into the thicket.

  While continuing along the path, he started moving downhill. After ten minutes, he stopped and looked back. The hiking trail was now out of view. Whoever came through here had a purpose, and it wasn’t to relieve themselves or smoke pot. If that was their goal, they could have done so a ways back. This was something else.

  He resumed his route. A short while later, the sounds of car engines started humming. The noises steadily increased, and they kept increasing until he came across the freeway.

  He approached the metal guardrail that blocked off the freeway. The guardrail was the only impediment, meaning that to access the pathway, one simply had to park along the shoulder and step over the two-foot barricade. Anyone could manage that.

  He looked down once more. There were the same set of tracks. He nodded. This is how the shooter got into position. This is how they avoided the cameras.

  He turned and started making his way back. He halted when his mobile buzzed. He pulled the device and saw that Claire was calling. After answering, he moved the phone into position.

  “Yeah?”

  “Hey,” she replied. “We need to talk. I just—”

  “Don’t tell me over the phone. Head over to my place. But wait ten minutes before you leave. I’m about twenty minutes away.”

  “Alright. I’ll see you there.”

  “Good. Because I also have something to tell you.”

  Chapter 21

 
; Claire knocked on Harlan’s apartment door. Seconds later, the door unlocked and opened.

  “Hey,” she told Harlan.

  He nodded and stepped aside.

  She walked in and he closed the door. She also took it upon herself to enter the living room. More than likely, they would talk in there. Plus, she wanted to hurry things along. The unexpected meeting with Raven and Adams had put the pressure on.

  After entering the living room, she froze.

  “What’s all of this?” she asked, observing a number of poster boards.

  There were three boards in total, each held up by wooden easels. Scribbled onto the boards were detailed notes and drawings.

  “These are for the case,” Harlan responded, stopping beside her. “Writing and drawing always helps me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I’m a visual person. I like to see information more than talk about it.”

  She smirked. “That doesn’t surprise me. You’re not big on talking.”

  “I’m not.” He turned to her. “Well, what did you want to tell me?”

  She kept her eyes on the boards. “I’ll get into that. But now, I’m curious about all of this information.”

  He likewise turned to the boards. “The first one is an overlay of the murder scene.” He pointed at the drawing. “These markers indicate the ingress and egress movements.”

  “Ingress and egress?”

  “How the shooter arrived and departed.”

  She arched her brow. “Holy shit. You actually figured that out?”

  “Yeah. The shooter never arrived through the parking lot. They took a circular route to avoid the cameras.” He pointed once more. “It might seem like the freeway is far from the trail. But it’s not. It’s just out of view.” He moved his finger along the drawing. “The hiking trail runs parallel to the freeway. And in some parts, it curves towards it.” He traced a line between the hiking trail and the freeway. “This is where the shooter travelled.” His finger stopped by the freeway. “This is where they accessed the pathway.”

  “Goddamn. You really did figure it out. All except who the shooter is.”

  “I narrowed that down.”

  She looked to him. “What?”

  “I narrowed that down.”