Jarrod lived with his grandparents, and at the first sight of the police, he tried to run away, not getting any farther than Waters who was waiting for him at the back entrance.
He had his reasons, Ellie reflected as she stood in his room a moment later. If the neighborhood watch had ever started out with an innocent and righteous purpose, they sure had gone a long way from it. Judging from the flyers, books and paraphernalia on display, the group Jarrod Tanner was so proud to belong to looked more like far right extremists.
“Don’t jump to any conclusions yet,” Waters mumbled.
“I’m not jumping to anything, don’t worry.”
Waters didn’t say much else, both of them aware that some of his convictions slightly overlapped with the likes of Stanton and Tanner.
It should be a subject, Ellie thought. With the kind of power they were given in their jobs, questions should be asked whether they’d be able to approach everyone fairly. Officer Atwood’s words came to mind. For every one of them, other cops had to work twice as hard to get the job done and earn the public’s trust.
“This might all be concerning, but remember, we are looking for something illegal.”
“Yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”
* * * *
The only person living at Sandy Beck’s last known address was Sandy’s former roommate, who reluctantly let Jordan in.
“It’s no secret,” she said. “Sandy moved out after she got her feet back under her, and she remarried.”
“She ever talked to you about why she didn’t appear in court that time?”
“She just wanted to put a terrible relationship behind her, not ever see him again. I don’t think you can blame her.”
“Do you think Bob Stanton threatened her?”
“Think?” the woman scoffed. “He called her several times a day, and showed up here too. Sometimes bringing flowers, sometimes telling her that if he couldn’t have her, no one would.”
“Did she report these threats?”
Jordan knew the answer already. After the initial charges that were filed and dropped, Sandy had never contacted the police again.
“What good would that do? She left, and that was the best idea. She has a new life now. I hope you don’t have to bother her and bring it all up again.”
“I hope so too. Did you or Sandy know about the dealings of Bob’s neighborhood watch?”
“There was a lot of posturing, I remember. I don’t know if they actually did everything they said, but there was always talk about how some people are draining society. The usual suspects, you get the picture. Bob especially had it in for some homeless guy hanging out at the park.”
“You know his name?”
“No, but he was young. Asked people for a dollar every once in a while, but he always walked away when they said no. Bob, he was really thrilled when those college kids killed the homeless woman, said they’d done us all a favor. Freaky.”
“Yeah. Thank you for your time, I appreciate it.”
The picture was getting clearer by the minute. Jordan remembered that even Lemont had called Stanton a psychopath, which was quite the label to be given by a career criminal. Ellie had been on to something right from the start.
She hoped to catch her before she got to interview Jarrod Tanner.
* * * *
“I know my rights,” Tanner exclaimed. He looked nervous. Chances were he knew that the odds were stacked against him, that both Stanton and Lemont would see him as expendable.
“Yeah, don’t worry about that. You’d like to call your lawyer?”
“You’ll let me have my call?” he asked, suspicious.
“Sure, as you say, it’s your right. You have a lawyer, right? It makes sense given the company you keep.”
“You have to get me one if I can’t afford it, right?”
Ellie exchanged a smile with Derek Henderson, glad to have him with her in the room instead of Waters who had left without giving her details.
“You haven’t been arrested or charged with anything,” she clarified. “Running from the police, it looks a little suspicious, but I’m sure we can clear all of that up. Right now, we’re just talking.”
“What if I don’t want to talk? What is this anyway, good cop/bad cop? Or minority cops deciding the white guy must be guilty anyway?”
“Whoa, Jarrod, slow down. No one’s deciding anything right now.”
Ellie wished she could roll her eyes, but even so, she assumed she and Derek were thinking the same at this moment.
“Just to get this out of the way, you’re a member of Stanton’s neighborhood watch.”
“That’s right. I’m proud of it.”
“And you also took part in one of your university programs, on how to help the homeless?”
She hadn’t quite managed to keep the disbelief out of her voice, Ellie could tell from his expression.
“Yeah, so? I thought it came with some goals, but there was just a lot of talking and bleeding hearts.”
“With some exceptions,” Ellie reminded him. “There was someone in the group who thought differently.”
“I never even talked to them. Anyway, The work that Bob’s guys do is a lot more effective. We protect hard-working citizens.”
“All right…Then again, people are telling us that this neighborhood watch business is getting out of hand. You are aware that Lemont was arrested and charged with murder. The same guy you and Bob Stanton met with. We want to know why.”
“Why? To tell him to get lost, of course. That was the whole point.”
“Really? He tells a different story,” Derek stated.
Jarrod stared at him morosely.
“Then he’s lying. He’s a fucking drug dealer. You figure it out.”
“The story we’re hearing,” Ellie continued, “is that Stanton and Lemont needed you to get the drugs into your school. There’s nothing to it, then? Because, sure, it’s bad, but murder is worse. If you can tell us anything that will help, we might cut you some slack on the dealing.”
“I didn’t do anything. You just don’t like me because I have traditional values. Deal with it.”
Derek coughed.
“I guess I have to remind you, this has nothing to do with values. It’s about homicide.”
“I thought you said Lemont was charged offing that slut? Not like he does things himself.”
“I’m not talking about Rena Kelly.” That moment, Ellie needed to say the woman’s name. With some satisfaction, she noticed the red splotches appearing on Jarrod’s face. So it had an effect on him too. “Marco Raynor.”
“Never heard of him.”
“You guys have been hanging out at Patton Lake Park a lot. Bob had a problem with Marco in particular.”
“Hey, can you blame him? I go to school and work. They do nothing all day and harass the tourists for money, and the police coddles them.”
“So you decided to teach him a lesson?”
“I didn’t.”
“But your friend Bob did? Look, perhaps it’s time for you to think of your options here. We’ve heard from several people now, and it doesn’t look like he cares much about anyone but himself.”
“You said you’re not charging me with anything.”
“Well, son, that could change the moment Lemont or Stanton decide they want to save their hides,” Derek reminded him. “You admire Bob so much you are ready to be the fall guy for him?”
“I’m not your son.”
Ellie caught Derek’s glance, indicating that he was quite happy about that fact.
“That’s the only thing you’re taking away from this?” she asked. “You could be going to prison for a long time.”
He looked Ellie up and down, but she could tell there were cracks in the cocky façade.
“I think I want my lawyer now,” he said.
“You don’t need a lawyer. You’re free to go.”
* * * *
Ellie had retreated to the break room with De
rek, needing a fix of caffeine and sugar.
“I’m not sure Cliff or Lieutenant Carroll will be satisfied with that,” she said ruefully. At least the hot coffee and the chocolate bar helped—some. She wondered if she was cut out for this work after all. She had watched Derek and Jordan many times. They were an experienced team, and they always seemed to catch the suspect’s weakness.
“Well, Cliff should have shown up if he wanted a different result. You’re going for the right strategy,” he assured her. “This will cause some ripples. One of them will crack.”
“Yeah, but we don’t know that for sure. I hate to admit it, but this is harder than it looks.”
“Come on, you are doing better than okay. You got information out of Raphael Deane that no one else had. You built a rapport with Raynor that helped us.”
“And they’re both dead now.” Ellie winced. That wasn’t what she’d meant to say. “I guess I have to rely on appearing harmless.”
“You’ll have to be the good cop for the time being,” Derek agreed good-naturedly. “Ellie, that’s not a bad thing. We all use the skills we have to our advantage. No two suspects are the same. We have to be flexible as well.”
“I’m not sure if that’s consoling me, but thank you.”
“You go with what works.”
“Yeah. I’ll remember that.”
Painting a picture was not enough though. They needed something to bring in Stanton, and so far, that goal hadn’t come closer into reach.
Chapter Sixteen
Since Ellie and Derek were still occupied with exploring the neighborhood watch, it was Maria who met Jordan at the crime scene, the parking lot of a closed furniture factory on the edge of the area where grey buildings and concrete slowly gave way to better kept buildings and tourist condos.
The dead man was white, mid-thirties, one shot to the head. There was no ID on him, but eight twenty dollar bills rolled and wedged into his back pocket.
“He made someone angry,” Maria commented.
“That is for sure. And I’d venture to say he saw it coming,” ME Melissa Adams added. “Look.”
Peering at the bullet wound, Jordan saw a ringed bruise around the small hole. It looked like the perpetrator had pressed the gun against the man’s forehead. At a range this close, blood must have spattered all over the shooter. Maybe they were lucky, and he hadn’t gotten far. Uniformed officers were canvassing the neighborhood. She reached out with a gloved hand, pushing up the dead man’s sleeve, finding what she was looking for—another bruise, circling his lower arm. This was why he hadn’t run. There had been more than one person around. Perhaps the victim had even voluntarily met them. Had they given him the money? A deal gone bad? In any case, the perpetrators didn’t seem to care much about $160.
There was no watch or any kind of jewelry, but the man’s clothes and shoes looked new.
She walked to the edge of the parking lot, thinking this murder had to be well planned out. The looming buildings obstructed any view from nearby apartment complexes. The victim had probably walked into the situation oblivious, not expecting the people he was going to meet to do him any harm.
Jordan had read all the transcripts regarding Lemont and the neighborhood watch. In his first interview, he had claimed only to cater to a well-off clientele. This was his turf, and even though he was in prison, there was bound to be a number two taking care of what was left of his business.
She stepped off the curb, looking down the street to see a familiar sign in the distance: The bar where the waitress Rena Kelly had worked. She’d been stabbed, found in the back room. All employees and the manager and owner had been cleared, since all traces, including DNA, had led to Lemont. They had witnesses placing him at the scene that night, and he’d obviously been cheating on Ashley.
Another murder in such close vicinity, in an area that Lemont had previously controlled, it couldn’t be a coincidence.
If only Rena Kelly could talk.
It might be worth going back to the bar when it opened later, and talk to employees and patrons again. There had to be a connection—and once they found it, perhaps the murder of Marco Raynor, and Bob Stanton’s involvement would become clearer again.
* * * *
Ellie and Derek weren’t lucky with their planned follow-up on Bob Stanton. At the Stantons’ house, his mother opened the front door, peering at them with suspicion.
“My son is not here. What do you want?”
“Ma’am, can you tell us where he is?”
“Why, he’s done nothing wrong. Why do you keep bothering him?”
“It’s important that we talk to him. He might have some information for us,” Ellie tried to placate the woman. “It would be very helpful if—”
“He’s visiting family,” Stanton’s mother cut her off. “If you want to talk to him, you’ll have to wait until Monday.”
“Thanks anyway,” Derek mumbled, after the door fell shut nearly in their faces. “Let’s head back and throw everything against the wall. Something’s got to stick.”
Ellie envied him his boundless enthusiasm, but she didn’t say that out loud.
“I hope so. We have a cake tasting coming up.”
* * * *
Everyone had gathered in the briefing room to put together their respective pieces of the investigation, hoping to get closer to the complete picture.
Jordan had pushed back the time of the cake tasting they had scheduled. Now she stood in front of the board showing all the bits and pieces of the case.
“According to her colleague, Rena Kelly always locked at the end of her shift, left through the back door and went home on her bike. She normally would have taken this way…” She showed Kelly’s usual commute on the map pinned to the board. “But there had been construction for a week or so, and she went by the park instead. We didn’t pay much attention to that at the time, because she was killed at the bar. Now I wonder if it’s relevant that she took this other route.”
“Including the night Marco Raynor was murdered,” Ellie injected.
Waters sat next to her, looking bored. He hadn’t given her any explanations as to his whereabouts in the past hours, but told her he’d be taking some personal time to sell his condo. That was probably the most he had talked to her since the beginning of their partnership.
“Exactly. We don’t know if she saw something, or if this is unrelated, but here’s a theory—Stanton wants Raynor gone, and he makes a deal with the devil. When there’s a witness implicating Lemont or one of his people, the devil comes to collect.”
“But wasn’t Lemont in a relationship with Rena Kelly?”
“We don’t know that for sure. He knew her, hung out at the bar and perhaps harassed her. I’d hardly call that a relationship.”
Ellie nodded. “Yet, they are all closely connected in some way. Any luck on ID’ing John Doe yet?”
“Harry Travis. He’s in the system,” Maria Doss revealed. “Some drug offenses, did a little time, but lately he’d improved his legal representation. And get this, the guys who got him out the last time are familiar. We know of a few cases related to Lemont’s crew.”
“So what made them turn on him?” Ellie asked.
“We’re going to find out. Who of you wants to spend tonight at one of the worst dives in town? Let’s hope the health benefits cover that, too.”
* * * *
“You again.”
The manager of the bar where Rena Kelly had worked obviously recognized Jordan. He wasn’t pleased to have the police in the house again.
“What are you doing here? I thought you got the drug dealer for the murder.”
“Well, yeah, there are always others. Sorry for the inconvenience.” He snorted, but held up his hands in mock surrender.
“What is it this time? You know I told you everything. Life is better if people like Ryan Lemont aren’t breathing down my neck.”
“I’d think so, and we want to keep it that way, right? You’ve seen this gu
y before?”
He cast a cursory glance at the picture, wincing at the obvious cause of death. “Can’t say I have.”
“The name Harry Travis ring a bell?”
“Not to me, but please, try not to bother my people too much. They’re working here.”
“Yeah, so am I. You’d think I’d come here if I wasn’t? Not really my scene.”
“Then why don’t you stay away, Detective?”
“Easy. I’m thinking the health department hasn’t visited in a while, or am I wrong?”
His face reddened. “Do what you have to do, and then get lost.”
“That’s the plan.”
* * * *
Ellie had been observing closely, studying Jordan’s interaction with the manager, wondering what she could learn from it—or if she should go with Derek’s theory for now, that appearing cute and harmless, still, would be to her benefit. At the moment, all it did for her was having to ward off advances and wandering hands. Jordan hadn’t been kidding when she warned them about this place. She felt horrible thinking about Rena Kelly who had to work here, only to end up stabbed to death in the back room.
She forced the images from her mind and continued to mingle unobtrusively with staff and guests, looking for anyone who might have seen Travis. Most of the time, she got a quick denial. Ellie found it remarkable that no one seemed to be shocked much at being shown the image of a dead man.
“Miss? Can we go talk someone else?”
The soft whisper had come from the young woman who was vigorously wiping the table without looking up. Given that she might have important information, Ellie cut the woman some slack for calling her “miss.”
“You have seen Mr. Travis?” she confirmed.
“Not here. My shift is over. Meet me out in the back in a couple of minutes.”
She picked up the rag and turned abruptly for the counter.
Ellie looked around, but none of her colleagues were to be seen in the packed bar.
* * * *
The crowd was as reluctant to talk to the police as they remembered from earlier visits, but they still managed to produce some results.
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