by Maren Lee
“Warden Adler is dead.”
Whoa. The air suddenly got colder around him.
“Shit. When’d you find this out?”
“About two this morning.”
“And you didn’t call me?”
“You weren’t on shift. And I didn’t know you’d care until about ten minutes ago when I briefed Jake.”
“Somethin’ fishy is going on with him and my dad. Caught them in the parking lot at the bar night before last. He doesn’t even live in Imminence, so it was weird he was in the parking lot of the Cadillac at night. But what was even weirder was that he was arguing with my dad about somethin’.”
“Interesting.”
“Yeah. How’d he bite it?” Wesson didn’t mean to sound insensitive, but it was what it was.
“Apparent suicide.”
“Where?”
“Found him at Centennial Park. In his car.”
“Asphyxiation?” Wesson assumed it was a hose from the exhaust in through the window.
“Nope. Bullet to the brain through the mouth.” Fuck. Messy.
“Fresh?”
“Looked pretty fresh, but I’m not a forensics expert.”
“Who called it in?”
“Anonymous.”
“Anon has been a busy dude in Imminence lately.”
Justin laughed as Wesson’s joke. “Definitely strange times.”
“Anything of interest in the car?”
“Some residue in the trunk. Sent it to the state crime lab.”
“Those fuckers still haven’t gotten back with the fingerprint analysis, so don’t expect that shit anytime soon.”
“They’re backed up. Lots of shit going on, man.”
“Yeah. Hey, just so you don’t hear it from anyone else -- Molly got some heat from Adler earlier today down at the prison. He suggested she was smuggling drugs into the inmates and propositioned her in exchange for his silence. She bitched him out and then he told her he’d yank her contract. On her way out, one of the guards - Charlie? - told Molly that Adler was under some heat from the MDOC. Know anything about that?”
“Nope. But it’s something to look into. Molly got an alibi?”
“Fuck, man. She’s been with me all night, since about nineteen hundred. Swear to God.”
“Cool your jets, man. Just checkin’.”
“Any chance this was Ruiz?”
“I’m guessing there’s a chance.”
“Fuck. All right. I’m comin’ in early.”
“I’m headin’ home to crash. I’m beat, man. Gonna try to get balls deep in my wife and get her pregnant and then hit the hay for the day. Jake and Smitty have been briefed. See you on the flip side.”
“Good luck,” Wesson laughed. “Later.”
Wesson hung up. Molly was going to freak out.
He blew out a breath and walked back into the bedroom to give her the news.
➰
Molly hadn’t taken it well. Wesson could tell that she didn’t like the man at all, but she certainly did not wish death on him. She also wondered if it had something to do with the illegal drug trade in Bounty County or if it had something to do with the fight he’d had in the parking lot the other night with Wesson’s dad. Wesson wondered the same thing.
He showered while Molly lounged in bed and threw his basketball shorts and t-shirt from the evening before back on.
“You should bring some clothes over here. I’ll clean out a drawer for you.” Molly had said, without hesitation. Wesson mauled her and kissed her face all over while she laughed. A definite ‘yes’ from him.
Maybe Kobe Michael could get a litter box and bowl over here too…? He decided to save that question for later.
He got into his truck and pulled out his phone again, dialing Ryan.
“Blakesly,” Ryan answered.
“Hey, man. It’s Campbell.”
“What’s up?”
“Where are you?”
“On the road.”
“I’m going into work early today. Warden Adler is dead. Apparent suicide, but put air guitars around ‘apparent’ because I’m not convinced.”
“Air quotes?” Ryan corrected.
“Yeah.”
“No shit?”
“No shit. You want to meet me at the station?”
“Yep, but I’m about an hour out.” Great. He went to Billings.
“Oh no, Ryan. You didn’t. Did you? You did, didn't you? You're gonna get me killed, you motherfucker! And I won't go easy! I will come back and haunt your children!” God dammit, Ryan and Katie!
“No comment.”
“Fuck, man. It better be over. Did you know that I hate you right now?”
“It’s over. For real this time.” Ryan sounded dejected. Good.
“Good, that makes me happy that you’re sad. You should be relieved that you’ll live to see another day. See you in an hour.”
“Yep.”
They hung up and Wesson shook his head. What a dumbass-fuckerface-doucher!
➰
“Splittin’ up, or strength in numbers?” Jake grinned at Smitty and Wesson. Wesson explained his various theories to Jake, Smitty, Ryan and Brenden and had gotten the green light to check shit out. Wesson was glad everyone seemed gum-ho to help him.
“I say we split up in twos, go follow leads.”
“I’ll take Ryan this time. We need some bonding time.” Jake threw one of his arms around Ryan’s shoulders and squeezed him in for a side hug.
Wesson was usually annoyed by Jake’s white ass teeth and fancy dimples, but today, on the day that Wesson knew that Ryan had just driven back from Billings after probably fuckin’ Jake’s little sister, he was loving the white ass teeth and fancy dimples. Because Ryan was visibly terrified. Serves you right, mothafucka. Sistafucka? Whatever. Ryan’s eyes shifted back and forth and he swallowed hard. Wesson nodded his head and smiled. That’s gonna be awkward.
“I say one group of us should head to the neighborhood around the park and start asking questions. The other group head to Billings and have a chat with the guards at the prison? See what they know?”
“Dibs on Billings!” Jake shouted. He slugged Ryan in the shoulder. “Maybe we can schedule lunch with my baby sis while we’re there. You remember Katie? She's a nurse there now.” Ryan choked on a big nothing-burger and cleared his throat. Oh this is fuckin’ karmal, Wesson thought. He was loving every second of it.
“Ahhh. Yeah. Vaguely. But you should have that time to yourself. Just drop me off at the Anytime Fitness while you’re having lunch with her and I’ll get my workout in.” Ryan was clearly searching for an excuse not to see Katie again. Good.
“Watch out, though, Jake,” Wesson offered. “Old man works out in uniform. Does not smell good on the ride home.”
“What the fuck? Seriously?” Jake asked.
“No! Not seriously! I did not work out in my uniform. Jesus, Wesson.” Ryan was pissed.
Haha. Serves Grandpa right.
“Smitty and I will take the area surrounding the park. Let’s do this!” he shouted, far too excited for 7 in the morning. They fist bumped and headed out to the truck. Wesson was glad to be leaving Ryan to his own damn fate.
Chapter 19
Centennial Park was on the outskirts of Imminence. It was a nice park. It had a modern, plastic playground and none of that rusted metal death trap shit that Wesson had grown up with. There was a little splash park for the kids to play in during the summer. It was usually full, but at 7:15 in the morning, it was empty. A fairly new housing development was being built on the north end of the park, but at the south end of the park were older, more mid-century houses.
“This end,” Smitty pointed to the parking lot that was devoid of cars.
“This where they found him?”
“That’s what Justin said,” he replied. Wesson nodded and pulled in. They parked the vehicle, got out, and surveyed the area.
“‘Bout ten houses ‘round here would have had visual on the parking lot.”
“Fuck, did they question anyone last night?” Smitty asked.
“Nope. It was ‘round 3 a.m. by the time they were done processing the scene.”
“Let’s start knocking before everyone leaves for work,” Smitty suggested. It was a good plan. They could field search the park for clues when they were done.
Smitty started toward the houses, so Wesson followed.
“Things good with Molly?” Smitty asked.
“Despite the drug charges, stuff? Fuck yeah, man. So good I can’t even believe it,” he replied. It was the truth.
“Happy for you man. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.”
“Appreciate it, Smitty. You deserve it too.”
“Nah. I’m too busy to settle down.”
Wesson wondered what the fuck that meant.
“I’m gonna be the new head coach for the high school football team this year.” Smitty grinned at him. “Practice starts next week.”
“No shit? Man, that’s awesome! I didn’t know that was in the works. Congratulations!” Smitty and Wesson had both graduated from Imminence High School the same year. Smitty was the quarterback. Wesson was a wide receiver. It was where Smitty & Wesson became a two man offense. They called them ‘The Shotgun,’ not just because of the formation they ran, but because of their names. Yeah, it was cheesy. But they were that good. Senior year they won the Montana State Championship. Smitty had been an assistant coach for the past two years. Wesson gave him shit about living in the past, but it really did seem like a lot of fun.
“It was a last minute thing. Coach Davies decided to retire with no notice. Might need your help as the receivers’ coach, if you’re interested.”
“Hell, yeah. That would be fun, dude.”
They walked up the front porch of the brick house that had the best view of the parking lot and knocked and waited.
The door slowly opened. A sweet little old lady answered the door. Jackpot. Little old ladies were usually up late and they were always nosy as fuck.
“Well, hello there, officers,” she greeted them. Wesson bet he could get coffee and pie out of this meeting.
“Hello, ma’am. We’re investigating something that happened late last night in the park across the street here. I want you to know that we do not think anyone in this area is in danger, but we would like to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay with you,” Wesson asked nicely.
“Of course it’s okay, boys. I saw the police lights across the street last night. Wondered what was going on. Those damned homeless druggies hang out in the park at night, I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen. Please come in!”
Smitty grinned at Wesson and they entered the house.
Thirty minutes later, they exited with breakfast in their bellies and a cup of coffee to go. Mrs. Murray didn’t have the most helpful information - she hadn’t even heard a gunshot on account of taking out her hearing aids - but she did inform them of the drug deals she’d seen in the park at dusk. Time to permanently put this park on the evening patrol map. She’d also noticed a few older homeless gentlemen hanging around. Smitty and Wesson agreed to check that out, too.
Wesson shrugged. “Next house?”
“Let’s go.”
They repeated the knock and spiel throughout the neighborhood. A few people weren’t home, so at least there was a potential for follow up there. Two people heard the gunshot and placed it at about 11 p.m, which was extremely helpful information.
“What time did the anonymous call come in, Smitty?”
“Justin said ‘bout 1 a.m.”
“Maybe someone wanted to get far away from the scene before they made the call.”
They knocked on the last house with a view of the parking lot. They would have had more of a side view of the car, but it was better this than nothing.
A thirty-something-year-old man opened the door. Wesson hadn’t ever seen him before, and since they were about same age, he figured the guy was probably new in town. “Hey man, we’re investigating--”
“The murder in the park?” he asked, eyes wide.
“Uh, yeah. Well, so far it’s classified as a suicide. But did you see something?” The man came out onto the porch and shut the door behind him.
“No. My daughter did.”
Oh shit.
“I just moved here from Bozeman last week, man. Got a job at TrueNorth outside of town. My daughter is having trouble sleeping in the new house.”
“How old is she?”
“Seven.”
Fuck.
“I heard the gunshot and she ran down the hall to my bedroom a few minutes later, terrified, man.”
“Did you call it in?”
“Nah, man. She was shakin’ out of her skin. My first thought was to get her right. Thought maybe she had a bad nightmare, so I let her crawl into bed with us. But this morning, man. Vivid details.”
“She doing okay?”
“She’s eatin’ pancakes for breakfast with her momma, so I think she’s doing fine.”
“Do you mind if we talk to her?” Smitty asked.
“Yeah. I do. I don’t want her scared again.”
“We’re the good guys, buddy,” Wesson chimed in.
“Yeah, but if she has to repeat everything again to cops, she’s gonna get scared. How about I tell you what she told me, and if you think you need more information, then we can figure out a way to make questioning her a fun field trip.”
Worth a shot. “Sure, man. I’m Officer Smith, this is Officer Campbell.” Smitty gestured to Wesson.”
“Name’s Jim.”
“Nice to meet ya, Jim. Welcome to Imminence,” Wesson engaged in the pleasantries.
“So what’d she tell you, Jim?” Smitty asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the railings of the front porch.
“Her bed faces the window, right? And my daughter, Sunny, she’s a big reader. Big appetite for big books and she’s only seven. Does not take after her dad,” he laughed. “Anyway, so she’s reading with her book lamp when she sees a car pull into the parking lot. And it’s dark out, but there’s those street lamps right at the entrance and then street lights around the lot - you see ‘em?” He pointed across the street. Smitty and Wesson nodded. “She said she was curious. Two guys got out of the car and then another car pulled up next to it.” This was starting to sound like a drug deal to Wesson. “Two guys got out of car number two, took stuff out of the trunk of car number one, and they drove off.”
“Drug deal,” Smitty stated the obvious.
“That’s what I was thinking, but you’re the one who gets paid to do this,” the guy shrugged.
“Did your daughter see any of these guys?”
“She didn’t get a good view of the faces of the two guys who pulled up in car number two, but after they left, she had a better view of the other two guys. One she said looked like an older version of me,” he shrugged.
“Adler,” Wesson nodded in agreement. “He did look like an older version of you.”
“Did?” the guy asked, curious.
“Well, he’s dead now.” Jesus, Smitty, Wesson thought. Bedside manners never killed anyone.
“Oh. Right.” His face fell. “So the other guy, she said was kinda fat and dirty looking. Gray hair that hadn’t been combed very well. Much older.”
“Wesson. That sounds like-” Wesson held up his hand to stop Smitty from saying it.
“Go on. Did she say what the other car looked like?”
“Red.”
Bingo.
“What did your daughter see happen?”
“The older, dirtier man - the one who didn’t look like me - took a gun out of his waistband and held it at the other man’s head. Then he overpowered him and forced him into the car. Then the gunshot.”
“Did she see the shooter leave?”
&n
bsp; “She ducked down and turned off her book light and then hauled ass to my bedroom.”
Fuck.
“Wow. Okay, man. You’ve been super helpful today.”