The Incident (Chase Barnes Series Book 1)

by John Montesano

  “I think I see what you’re saying,” she said and I was surprised by the way she said it. Ms. Cruz seemed to be in agreement with what I had said about Esteban’s older brother, who was in jail. “If it’s all right with him, it’s all right with me. He’s a big boy that can decide for himself.” But can he really?, I thought.

  “I could take him out to the movies, the mall, or to eat. Places a twelve- year old boy should be frequenting.” In my head, I sounded like a pedophile preying on the weak but Ms. Cruz appeared to coincide with what I was offering. We talked for a little while longer.

  After I left, I sat in my car and watched the house from a distance and wondered if my offering would go over well with Esteban himself and even if he did, would it make a difference?

  NINETY SEVEN

  Earlier, I mentioned that I had a plan that would require Jamal’s assistance. Well, since Esteban was back home safe and sound and Klein was in police custody that plan was as useful as a three- sided nickel. But, I’ll tell you what I had in mind anyway. I thought since Klein wanted Jamal’s head on a platinum platter I could use Jamal as bait and stage a meeting between the two at a remote location in town and take Klein down that way. Kind of boring, now that I think of it. Instead, I got caught up in a high- speed chase down a major interstate, which ended in a fiery crash. I guess when all’s said and done, the same result occurred. Klein was taken down, which led to Garvey’s demise once Klein was strung up by his loafers. Fitzgerald sent a team over to Garvey’s house and arrested him on the spot after Klein sold him down the river. It didn’t take long for Fitzgerald’s boys to break Klein. I guess the threatening bravado was a thin coating over a soft and squishy center.

  This was the first time in a long while that I was able to sit back and process the recent week’s events. Ironically, my conscience had been relatively quiet lately. I chalked it up to the fact that my brain was in overdrive; that it didn’t have time to scream at me and beat me down mentally. Maybe that’s what I needed to do to overcome my overly aggressive conscience- be in a constant state of gun battles and car chases. Over the last several months since Jake’s death my one goal in life was to find the man behind Jake’s drug use. What the hell were the odds that I’d conquer that goal in the midst of my first case as a private detective?

  The brain functions in mysterious ways- to me, at least. It was interesting to me how the same brain- my brain- would react to death in such dramatically different ways. Jake’s death beat me down and made me feel like I was incapable of future existence. Whereas watching Source die by those same hands, the same bullets from the same gun that killed Jake, gave me a sense of relief. Vindication almost. The world seemed to be a much safer place. At least my world was a bit more at peace. At the same time, I was responsible for two people dying. One was my own flesh and blood while the other was a bloodsucking drug dealer and kidnapper. Death is still death and dying is still dying, isn’t it? I used to be convinced of the answers but now I’m not so sure.

  There wasn’t much time at the moment to process an answer to such a philosophical question because I had just pulled up to the Paterson Police Department ready to have the conversation with Fitzgerald. I knew it was now pushing eight o’clock but this had to be done and now was as good a time as any because it was on my watch. The adrenaline level was still soaring.

  I kept thinking about what Drew said everyone was calling me, ‘The Kid Killer.’ It infuriated me at first because I thought I hated having my reputation tarnished but the more I thought about it, I didn’t give a shit what anyone thought about me.

  This was the first time I walked through the department to Fitzgerald’s office and saw what must’ve felt like a thousand eyes fixated on me. Did they do this the other times I had visited and I just hadn’t noticed? Or did they know something else that I wasn’t privy to? I saw Fitzgerald was on the phone and had someone sitting in a chair across from his desk but it wasn’t the time to worry about cordial interruptions. I pushed the glass door open like a wild boar was chasing me and immediately faced a disturbed look from Fitzgerald.

  He finished his call and dropped the phone back into the cradle. I hadn’t even noticed that it was Drew who was sitting in the chair facing Fitzgerald. I didn’t pay him any attention and held my gaze firmly on Fitzgerald.

  “Barnes, I left you a message. Didn’t you get it?” Fitzgerald said.

  “Nope,” I said.

  “Klein is in Interrogation Room Two and we’re hoping he’ll roll on anyone else that might be mixed up in his deal. Garvey’s in Room One. We also found the other boys that were missing with Esteban. They were found down by the park in an abandoned stolen Jeep Cherokee. Still bound at the wrists.” I cut him off before he could ramble on any longer. However, I was relieved to hear that the other boys were recovered safely.

  “That’s great. Glad to hear it,” I replied with a masked sense of sincerity. Finally meeting Drew’s face, I could see he still carried that sense of edginess he had the other day when I met him at McDonald’s. His left knee was bouncing up and down faster than the piston of a diesel engine. He was also twiddling his thumbs at a rapid pace. Was this how Drew always behaved and I just never picked up on it? Was this just who he was- filled with nervous energy? “What’s he doing here?” I asked.

  Fitzgerald was surprised by my question. “He’s here for a completely different matter,” he replied.

  “That’s exactly what I’m here for.”

  NINETY EIGHT

  Fitzgerald excused Drew and told him to come back a little later. Drew got up and left without saying a word. He wouldn’t meet my hard stare, not that I was angry with him by any means. I waited until the glass door gently banged closed behind me before I took Drew’s seat. From Fitzgerald’s facial expression, I couldn’t tell if he knew the reason for my visit or was just aggravated by my abrupt entrance.

  “Great job on the case, Barnes,” he said, I think just to be saying something.

  “Thanks.” There was a long awkward pause.

  “So, now what do I owe this pleasant albeit disruptive visit? Something tells me you’re not here to talk about Klein or Garvey or the missing kids.”

  “You got that right,” I said. I didn’t want to throw Drew under the bus because he was ballsy enough to come out and tell me what was going on. That, and he was a good cop and didn’t want to do anything to ruin his own rep. I stood up. “There’s been a lot of talk around here, I guess.”

  “Talk? About what?” Fitzgerald said, maintaining his bewildered look.

  “Don’t give me that shit, Donald. I think you know exactly what the talk is about. Me.”

  “You? What the hell’s been said about you? And who did you hear it from?”

  “Don’t be coy with me, Donald. I’ve heard the shit storm swirling around here about the real reason you sent me out on my own,” I said. I paced around the open area near the door to the office.

  Bam! There it was. Either Fitzgerald was an Oscar- worthy actor or he genuinely didn’t know what I was talking about.

  “Chase, I honestly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” He held out his palms in front of him to emphasize his bewilderment. “It might help if you filled in the blanks for me,” he added.

  You know things get serious when cops refer to each other by their first names. I studied Fitzgerald’s face to get a more accurate read.

  “You mean to tell me you don’t know what the hell Millburn had in mind when he met with you about my reinstatement?”

  Fitzgerald took a deep breath, held it, and then released it through his nose. He laid his palms flat on his desk and made a gesture to stand up but didn’t. I finally sat.

  “Back up a second. Millburn? What’s Millburn gotta do with it? Well, I know what he’s got to do with your reinstatement but please just tell me what the hell you’re talking about,” Fitzgerald pleaded. It was my turn to take a deep breath.

  I started from the beginning. I told him a ver
y reliable source led me to believe that there was a lot of chatter going on around the department about the real reason why I was sent out on my own. Fitzgerald watched intently and the more he gestured his astonishment and surprise the more I truly believed he wasn’t part of the hoax.

  He actually said, “Fucking bastard,” after I was through. Fitzgerald then sat quietly for a few moments, appearing to process something in his mind.

  “So, you really knew nothing about Millburn’s true intentions. The politics behind bring me back?” I asked.

  “I’m telling you the truth. The meeting I had with Millburn was a carbon copy of the same meeting I had with you a couple of weeks ago. He only told me that he felt it was the best move for everyone involved. I think he actually said, ‘it’s the best move for the department’ quite a few times. I really had no idea that that’s what he was referring to. Honest. And now it all makes sense.” Fitzgerald paused again to process. He actually smiled to himself.

  I tried to wait as patiently as I could for him to continue but patience wasn’t one of my strong suits at the moment. “What is it, Fitz?” I asked. Snapping him out of his concentration. It looked as if something finally clicked in his mind.

  “I don’t know if you know this or not but Millburn is planning to boost his political career with a run at the mayoral position next year. And I bet any amount of money that Millburn didn’t want to jeopardize that opportunity with the media backlash he would have to deal with bringing you back after, you know, your situation,” Fitzgerald said.

  “My situation,” I said more to myself than to Fitzgerald. I laughed under my breath. “That son of a bitch. Fucking politics,” I added.

  “And I’m sure if things didn’t go as well for you if you came back to work Millburn would see you as high risk and have to go a complete different route.”

  “He must really think I’m a fucking head case.”

  “You shouldn’t give a shit what Millburn thinks of you and you can tell those others out there,” Fitzgerald said pointing his finger through the glass windows of his office and out onto the floor crawling with uniforms and detectives, “to go fuck themselves. I know and you know you’re a great cop and would do just fine back here on your beat until you bumped up to detective. But honestly, Chase, it’s out of my hands. I wish I had you back. I really do.”

  “I know you do, Fitz. I know you do.”

  NINETY NINE

  When I exited Fitzgerald’s office, Drew was sitting on a folding chair to the left of Fitzgerald’s office door. He didn’t say anything but we exchanged confident nods and I kept walking. A few phones were ringing and a few detectives were on various lines in what appeared to be intense conversations. There were a few shouts from somewhere off in the distance. I couldn’t see where they were coming from. Fitzgerald told me which room Klein was in and I as much as I wanted to pop in and sit in on the interrogation, I knew it was out of my hands. I’d probably be overstepping my boundaries and whoever had officially taken over the case wouldn’t be too pleased with my presence.

  But there was nothing wrong with sneaking a peek through the window and watching from a distance. Klein sat in a folding chair in the center of the room resting his handcuffed wrists on the table in front of him. I saw he was taped and bandaged on various parts of his forehead and face. There were two detectives, one standing near the mirror and one sitting in a folding chair across from Klein. No one was speaking. I wondered where what kind of shape Garvey was in.

  I hung around for another hour or so and watched the interrogation and the only new information I learned was that Klein’s apparent cell phone time bomb was a farce. His home was still intact and the apparent bomb timer was just a workout app. The investigative team sent to Klein’s house seized his entire arsenal and added a slew of drug trafficking and intent to distribute charges to his already extensive list.

  The seated detective did most of the talking while the one standing in the corner was on the phone several times. Chief Millburn was politicking his way around the floor when I was getting ready to leave. I felt fire rage behind my eyeballs and if my face looked half as red and flushed as it felt I’d probably melt the paint off the walls around me. Millburn shook the hands and patted the backs of any one of his subordinate soldiers. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to punch him in the mouth, stab him in the temple with a pencil, or kick him in the balls. Maybe none. Probably all three.

  I pretended to be on my cell phone when he spotted me from the other side of the room. Turning my back to his direction, I could still feel his presence approaching.

  “Mr. Barnes,” I heard his raspy voice bellow.

  My stomach tightened and I managed to catch all of my emotions in my throat. He repeated my name a second time before I turned to face him. I turned to face his extended hand; he expected me to embrace and shake it. Despite my elevated emotions I managed to harness them in control- Dr. Sharper would be proud- and shook Millburn’s hand. It felt like sticking my hand in a colander of wet spaghetti. I flashed my best mock smile and held his eyes for as long as I could tolerate. Millburn’s auburn eyes confidently stared at my face but I had to raise my eyes to look up at him as he was a couple of inches taller than me. He was overweight but his large frame carried it well and had a loose thinning mop of brown hair on his head.

  “Nice job on this missing kid case,” he said.

  I thanked him and wanted to turn and leave but he still held my grip. Millburn appeared to be a well- fit guy sans the sizable, yet firm beer belly that was probably filled with more cheeseburgers and bourbon than beer. I could tell he wanted to chat me up for a while but I think I’d rather talk to a pile of dead rats than stand here and listen to another word this bastard had to say.

  “Must’ve been a tough case to work. But I’m glad to see all those kids back home safe and sound.” His made- for- television voice drove pins and needles up and down the length of my spine.

  “Sure was and, yes, I’m glad all of the boys were found safe,” I said through gritted teeth. I thought about the last bit of advice Fitzgerald had given me back in his office. I loved it.

  “More importantly, I’m glad to see you back on your feet again,” he said.

  That’s it! Rip this guy’s fucking throat out! Who the hell is he to judge you? That’s my job.

  I nodded my head. He was ready to pass me by and move on to the next person. Millburn patted me on the shoulder and pushed past me.

  “Oh, Millburn. One more thing,” I said. We simultaneously turned our backs to face each other again. He didn’t say anything, waiting for me to continue. I touched my index finger to my upper lip as if I were deep in thought although I knew exactly what I was going to say. I extended my index finger to point at him, I said, “Go fuck yourself.”

  ONE HUNDRED

  I felt like I hadn’t been home in three years. It’d only been about a week’s worth of hours but it still felt like an eternity. I also felt like I hadn’t had a solid conversation with Lindsey in about a week even though I spoke to her earlier in the day, albeit a short time, and each night when I got home. I needed to know where we stood on the revelation of Jake’s death. She presented herself as compassionate and sympathetic but, as always, I had my doubts.

  Lindsey was home already when I returned home after nine. The way she was curled up on the couch in pajamas and nose- deep in a book gave me the inkling that she might’ve been at it for a few hours. I kissed her forehead from behind the couch and she squeezed my hand as I placed it on her shoulder. We talked and it felt like the first time since I began the case that we were really able to have a real deep conversation. I told her everything about Esteban’s case, not remembering what she knew already. She was ecstatic to hear that Esteban was found and returned home safe and sound. Lindsey was also amazed at the amount of courage Esteban had to just run off the way he did. Shock controlled her emotions as I told Lindsey that both Barry Klein and Glen Garvey were in police custody.

  “Wha
t the hell are we going to do for a principal now?” Lindsey said more to herself.

  “I’m sure they’ll figure out something,” I replied. I had no idea what else to say. “So, how was your day?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t feeling well so the school nurse sent me home for the afternoon,” Lindsey said. “I felt like one of the kids,” she laughed.

  “Fever?” I asked.

  “Stomach.” I came around to sit next to her on the couch. She extended her legs to rest on my lap and cover me with the blanket. Normally, a seat on the couch and flipping the television on was an unconditional instinct but this time television didn’t interest me. I actually enjoyed sitting in silence with Lindsey. There was something about this moment that made me feel so much closer to her. It reminded me much of our dating days in high school where we would curl up next to each other, pretend to watch a movie, and make out. Minus the awkward teenage hormones and the threat of being caught by parents.

  Lindsey still looked as if she had something on her mind but about fifteen years of companionship taught me not to press the issue. She’d tell me if she really wanted to. I had something on my mind as well.

  I worked up enough courage to ask the question. “Are we ok?” I was afraid to look at her.

  She lifted her head off the arm of the couch and I could feel her eyes on me. “What do you mean?” I knew I didn’t have to explain.

  “You know. This whole thing about Jake. I know I haven’t been home to talk the last day or two but believe me that every free moment I’ve had, it’s bothered the hell out of me,” I said.