by G. K. Parks
“Is that the cop instinct I hear so much about?”
He glanced down the bar to make sure no one needed anything. “What are you doing here, Lucien? Melody said you were asking about Scott Renwin. She thinks you’re heading an internal investigation.”
“I never said I was a cop. That would be illegal.”
“Like you give a shit about that.” His sigh sounded like a growl. “What the hell are you doing?”
“It doesn’t concern you.”
“It’s my bar. That makes it my concern.” He pointed to a sign on the back wall. “And I can refuse service to anyone.”
“I thought you were going to special order my preferred brand of gin. That doesn’t sound like you’re refusing service.” I stared straight-faced at him. “Is this because I drink imported beer?” I didn’t like asking for things, especially help. And I didn’t know how to ask questions without tipping my hand. This was a bad idea.
“You cocky shit. Answer the damn question.”
I bit back the smartass response dancing on my tongue. I didn’t know where Jim Harrelson’s loyalties lay. “The waitress looked scared. Scott slapped her ass. I didn’t like it, so I asked her about it. That was it.”
“He touched her?”
“According to her, a lot of the men have gotten out of hand a time or two. She doesn’t appreciate it. Looks like you’ve created an unsafe work environment.” I glanced at the other waitresses. “I’m guessing the others probably have similar stories.”
“Yeah, but you asked specifically about Scott.”
“He’s the only one I saw.”
Jim’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll keep an eye out and tell the staff to report inappropriate behavior immediately.”
“They probably won’t say anything. It could impact their tips.”
But Jim was a dog with a bone. “How’d you know Scott’s name?”
“Must have heard someone say it.” I met him glare for glare. “Since you’re so hung up on the jerk, I’m wondering why. Does the bastard typically give you problems?”
Jim reached beneath the bar. For a moment, I wondered if he planned to pull out a shotgun and tell me to leave. But that would have been melodramatic, especially since he was practically my uncle. He slapped a magazine down on the bar, the back cover facing up with my Cross Security ad staring at us. “Tell me what you’ve gotten yourself into, son.”
“Nothing.”
“Renwin drinks too much. I take his keys away at least twice a month. Most of the time, someone drives him home. One night, I found him passed out in the men’s room. I called his girlfriend to come get him.” Jim studied my expression, but I remained impassive. I spent most of my life making sure my face never gave anything away, unless I wanted it to. “I helped her drag him out to the car. It was dark. So I might have been mistaken.”
“What did you see?”
He wiped the bar. “You need to be careful. You’re not just fucking with a man’s private life. He’s a cop. Things like this could end his career.”
“Whatever happens, he did it to himself. People like that shouldn’t be able to carry guns or terrorize the innocent.”
“I didn’t say they should. All I said is you need to be careful. He won’t like some private dick poking around in his business.”
“I don’t care. I need to find evidence.”
“Scott’s girl should be covered in it.”
“Nothing’s ever been documented. No police reports or 9-1-1 calls. Scott could say someone else did it.” I looked at Jim in a new light. “Unless you happened to witness something.”
“Like I said, it was dark.”
“Bullshit.” I drained the rest of the glass and flipped it over. It was time to leave. “If this goes to court, we could subpoena you.”
Jim snorted. “I’m an unreliable witness.”
“So you won’t help?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying I know how these things work.” Jim glanced around again, but no one was close to us. “You need to go to your pops. He’ll take care of it.”
“I’d rather be mauled by wild dogs.”
Nine
For the next few days, I checked my dropbox to the point of obsession and toyed with the idea of phoning Sara. As a desk sergeant, she had access to a lot of information, and since she’d been with the department for more than twenty years, she could get me what I wanted. So why was my dropbox empty?
My phone chimed an alert, and I picked it up. Renwin’s truck was on the move. Scott had finally gotten tired of leaving frantic and slightly threatening voicemails and text messages and decided to go to the airport. Frankly, I was surprised it had taken him this long. He had every reason to be concerned about Jade’s well-being and that of her sick aunt, but after the initial messages he left, the situation devolved.
The last thirty texts alternated between begging Jade to come back and threatening her with what he’d do if she didn’t listen. That wasn’t what a supportive partner should do, which told me one thing. He knew she left him. And he knew why. By now, he must have received notice of the impending court hearing and realized he was running out of time. If Jade didn’t withdraw the claim, things would progress. And Scott’s life would end up under the microscope.
I grabbed my jacket and glanced down at my private investigator’s license that I’d received this afternoon. It had taken some cajoling to get the process expedited, but I was now licensed by the state. But on the off chance Scott confronted me, I didn’t want him to know that. So I left the wallet-sized card on my desk, asked the receptionist to redirect my calls to my cell, and told my assistant to conduct the rest of the interviews this afternoon. Then I slid behind the wheel and followed Scott to the airport.
When I arrived, his giant truck was double-parked behind Jade’s car. I slowed to the posted speed limit, flipped on my lights, and circled around until I found a space that allowed me to glimpse the level below. I cut the engine and reached for the camera beside me.
Scott waited as a few more cars entered in search of long-term parking. When the coast was clear, he removed the coat hanger from inside his jacket and popped the lock. Obviously, he didn’t have a set of keys to Jade’s car.
He slid into the front seat and found her cell phone in the cupholder. She told me that’s where she normally kept it when driving, and he might think she forgot it. I watched him through the viewfinder as he attempted to turn on the dead phone, getting the dying battery signal before the device automatically powered off. After that, he searched the rest of her car, popped the trunk, and checked everywhere. I couldn’t hear him from this distance, but I could read lips. He cursed and swore.
He slammed the trunk lid, rubbing a hand over his mouth. He went back into the car, pocketed her cell phone, and tapped anxiously on the dashboard. He knew she was gone. He also knew she’d be back. By now, he’d received notice of her intentions. If Jade pressed the issue for a permanent restraining order and the judge ruled in her favor, Scott would be prohibited from possessing a firearm. He’d lose his job. He’d lose everything. And that’s why he so desperately wanted to stop her. He didn’t realize his actions only made things worse.
With her cell phone in his pocket, he checked the car one last time before circling around the garage until he found a space. I remained inside my car, the camera hidden out of sight, while he stormed past. He hung his badge around his neck, and I waited until he entered the elevator before I got out of my car and took the stairs down, following him into the airport.
While I browsed the newsstand, I kept an eye on him while he spoke to a ticket agent. He flashed his credentials. Eventually, airport security and TSA agents stepped in to assist. Law enforcement lived by a code, so after hearing Scott’s sob story, they believed he was genuinely concerned about his girlfriend and shared her flight information and failure to board with him. Now he knew she hadn’t left the city. And from the look on his face, the shit was about to hit the fan.
&
nbsp; He held it together, thanked them for their kindness, and left the airport. I bought a messenger bag, paid with the cash in my pocket, and checked the blip on my phone. Scott hadn’t left yet. Donning my sunglasses, I took off my jacket, put it in the bag, and slipped it across my chest before exiting.
The bastard stood just outside the sliding doors. He paced back and forth, squeezing Jade’s phone in his hand. He didn’t know what to do. I kept my head down and waited at the crosswalk. Once it was clear, I crossed to the parking garage.
Half a dozen people waited for the elevator, and I stood near them, shifting from foot to foot. When the doors opened, we squeezed inside. Right before the doors closed, a hand pushed against them. The doors automatically slid apart, and Scott entered. He sidestepped around the luggage, pressing in beside me.
He gave me an odd look, but I left my sunglasses on, giving him a slight head nod. “It’s good to be home, huh?” I mumbled.
Scott didn’t answer, losing interest in me as he waited for the doors to open. Once they did, he stepped out, along with two other people. I remained inside, watching him trudge toward his truck as the doors closed. They opened again a moment later, and I stepped out and circled around to my car. By the time I got inside, Scott had pulled away.
I called Almeada. “He knows she’s in the city.”
“He received notice this morning.”
“That explains it.” I stared at Jade’s car. “I’m on my way to the apartment to tell her what’s going on. She needs to be prepared.”
“Do you think Sgt. Renwin will be smart about this?”
Nothing about Scott’s behavior led me to believe he ever made a smart decision, but he didn’t have a record. No one ever filed any complaints against him, and as far as I knew, all of his ex-girlfriends were alive and breathing. Hopefully, he’d do the right thing and let Jade go without putting up too much of a fight. But something told me he wouldn’t. “This will royally fuck him over. He wants to stop this before it buries him. That’s why he’s desperate to get to her. We have to keep her safe. We have to keep him away from her.”
“Do you think he wants to negotiate?” Almeada asked. “If he agrees to her terms behind closed doors, we can enter into an agreement that won’t cost him his job.”
“It’s too late for that.” I remembered the fear in Jade’s eyes when she talked about him. “He’s going to violate the terms the moment we turn our backs. I know it. Jade knows it. That’s why she’s so afraid.”
“If you’re right, this is gonna get messy.”
“It already is.” I hung up and headed to Jade’s.
Ten
I stayed at Jade’s that night, though she didn’t know it. Telling her Scott had gone to the airport and knew she hadn’t left the city left her visibly shaken. I downplayed the situation, repeating the things Mr. Almeada had said. But Jade truly believed Scott would kill her. And with the resources of the police department at his disposal, she couldn’t just disappear. He’d find her and drag her back, or he’d bury her. That’s why she had to take official action.
A permanent restraining order would cost him his job. But her request for a TRO would put him on law enforcement’s radar. Should anything happen to her, he’d be their prime suspect. And he spent enough years on the force to know it. That might just be her saving grace. It’s what we were counting on, but Scott was unpredictable.
Drunk or angry, he’d lash out. I saw the unstable moodiness in the concealed rage Scott attempted to hide at the airport and the way he acted toward Melody, the waitress. Sure, Scott knew how to put on a good front, and most people didn’t look too hard. But I wasn’t most people. Call it a talent or super power, but I saw people for who they were. And given how volatile Scott’s mood swings were, it could go either way.
Unfortunately, Scott left Jade with no other choice. At least none that I could see. Even Mr. Almeada agreed. So here I was, camped out in my car with a gun on the seat beside me. If someone told me a year ago this is what I’d be doing on a Thursday night, I’d say he was crazy. Now, it didn’t seem so crazy.
Justin sent me the list of applicants, and I scrolled through their names and qualifications. I needed to hire trained security personnel ASAP. Former military, former law enforcement, former SpecOps, each individual was qualified, but I was concerned with why they no longer collected government paychecks. I didn’t need to hire anyone unbalanced, but gaining access to psychological evaluations could be difficult. Fortunately, I didn’t mind breaking a few rules.
Years spent studying computer science afforded me connections to some of the least known and best hackers around. Though I knew creatively coloring outside the lines shouldn’t be something I did on a regular basis, this was an emergency. Jade needed a competent and loyal team to guard her until the dust settled, and I needed to have a few teams waiting in the wings for my corporate clients.
Hiring ten tacticians would serve my immediate purposes. I selected the top candidates from the applicant pool and did most of my own research. After weeding out a few questionable characters, I sent the remaining names to a friend, along with the promise of payment in untraceable bitcoin. I’d have answers by the morning, so I sent a message to my assistant to draft the employment contracts and to have someone from Reeves and Almeada make sure they were airtight. By tomorrow afternoon, Cross Security would finally get off the ground.
Finished with that, I reread the tech applications. Personally, I didn’t have any qualms with hiring a computer nerd with a non-violent record, but it could open my company up to liability issues. I didn’t need the extra headache. Plus, the best computer whizzes never got caught. And I only wanted to hire the best. However, the best were bright enough to create their own billion-dollar internet startups and didn’t need me. And the ones who lacked ambition already had jobs in Silicon Valley. Maybe I would have to go with second best.
Since I didn’t have to make a decision right away, I made a note to ask Almeada about ways to indemnify myself from fallout should I hire former hackers to work internet security. When I finished making up for spending the afternoon out of the office, I leaned back in my seat and stared at the apartment building. Most of the lights were off, but I could see one light on in Jade’s apartment. Did she fear the dark?
I thought about calling and asking if she was okay, but she already had enough men stalking her. So I listened to the radio for a while and stared at the red blip on my phone. Scott’s truck was parked at his place. He didn’t go to KC’s. That surprised me. I thought he’d want a drink after the day he had, but maybe he was throwing a few back at home.
I got out of my car and stretched my legs, stopping by a twenty-four hour convenience store to grab coffee and a snack. On my way back to the car, my phone chimed. Surprised by the notification, I tripped on the sidewalk, spilling the coffee on my shirt. “Shit.”
Wiping my phone on my pants, I entered my passcode and logged into my dropbox. A dozen PDF files filled my screen. Thank you, Sara.
I locked my doors, glanced around, and opened Sgt. Scott Renwin’s performance evaluation. Scott was a mediocre cop. He did his job. No more. No less. He squeaked by on most things, but Scott’s biggest problems, as noted in his evaluation, were his attitude and the number of complaints against him.
Opening the next file, I read the civilian complaints lodged against him. Excessive force. Belligerent. Disrespectful. Those three phrases repeated themselves over and over. My fingers cramped, and I made the conscious effort to relax my grip on the phone, not realizing how infuriated I had become. The police department knew Scott was an unstable powder keg, but they didn’t do anything about it. But I would.
After sending copies to Almeada, I called Sara Rostokowski. Since she just uploaded the PDFs an hour ago, she should be awake. Plus, it was almost dawn, or it would be in a couple of hours. Maybe she was an early riser. Or she picked up a late shift. It didn’t matter. I needed to talk to someone.
“I didn’t think yo
u’d be up,” she said.
“Is that why you waited so long to send the files?”
“No,” she sounded remorseful, “it took longer than I thought to access them. They were spread out.”
“Yeah.” I noticed the dates. This had been going on for three years, roughly around the same time Jade said Scott first hit her. “Did you find anything from before?”
“No.”
“So he just woke up one day and turned into an asshole?”
“It looks that way.”
“How come no one in the department’s done anything about it?”
“I don’t know. The incidents were evaluated. Scott was reprimanded on a few. On the others, the findings were inconclusive. If I had to guess, he probably doesn’t have enough strikes against him.”
I rubbed my eyes. “That’s bullshit.”
“He never hurt anyone, not to the level the department or city would face penalties, so the brass recommended some anger management and refused to bump up his pay until his performance evaluations improved. That’s about it. You know, civilians file false claims all the time.”
“These aren’t false.”
“Maybe not, but that’s why we have union reps. Someone has to protect us from the vindictive assholes.”
“In this case, your union is protecting a vindictive asshole. Is IA looking into it?”
“They are now,” Sara said, and I knew she was the cause.
“Thanks. They’ll be getting a lot more information soon.”
Eleven
“Hey, boss,” Justin said when I walked into the office a little after six a.m. “What happened to you?”
I looked down, remembering the spilled coffee from hours ago. “Remind me to keep a change of clothes at the office.”
“I’ll pick up your dry cleaning in an hour, unless you want to go home and shower. Maybe get some sleep too.”
“That can wait.” The background checks came back on my potential hires, and I wanted to get the paperwork done. “Here’s the list of security personnel I want on the payroll. Let’s get the offer letters and contracts drafted and schedule meetings, the sooner the better.” I checked the calendar. I had four meetings scheduled with prospective corporate clients on Monday. Two in the morning, a lunch meeting, and one in the afternoon. Jade’s court appearance was Monday, but Almeada would handle that. “Bring me Amir Karam’s application.”