“Five times caught on tape,” Alex bore down, leaning across the table. “Twice either following or accosting Rachel Sparkes, twice stalking the crime scene of Scott Mullin.”
“Plus a previous charge of stalking and harassment,” Zienuc growled, glaring at Gilbey who sullenly fixed on their table top.
“Dismissed!” Gaines shot back. “You know better than that, Detective. Previous behavior is inadmissible. And surveillance of a man living on his own street? Maybe admiring a pretty woman and being fascinated by a crime scene? Those are hardly probative.” Gaines looked suddenly so self-important.
He got to his feet, reaching for Gilbey. “We’re leaving. You have no right to hold this man.”
“Sit,” Alex ordered, ignoring Gilbey like he was just another street creep. “Your client is still under arrest.”
Gaines’s eyes bugged at him.
“For assaulting a police officer, namely Detective Brand,” Zienuc added happily. “That’s a class C felony, a hefty jail sentence-”
“Self defense!” cried Gaines. “Police brutality! The police had no business being there in the first place!”
“We knocked and your client admitted us,” Alex countered. “He’s still our prime suspect, and there were witnesses to the assault.”
“Just more cops! Were you wearing a body cam? Were you?”
“Find a judge you like better.”
Alex’s phone buzzed. He checked his screen, frowned, and stepped away.
Kerri’s rushed whisper suggested that Charlie might be with her. “Wheat…he’s the guy,” she hissed over the sound of tinny music. “Just came for an impromptu visitation,” she added in vague adult-speak…then: “Come.”
“This a hunch?”
“Better.”
“On my way.”
Alex held his phone up to Zienuc. “Development.” He opened the door, sending Gaines a narrow look. “Your client’s headed to Rikers. You can continue with him there.”
Buck and Jo were watching through the window in the hall. Zienuc stuck his head out to find out what the hell.
Alex told him.
“Want me to come with you?”
“I’ve got this. Deal with Gaines, write up the report.”
Pounding down the stairs, Alex called to make sure Billy DeWitt stayed guarding Rachel and Charlie.
“He’s still there,” someone told him. “Thought you caught the guy.”
“Maybe not. Have Billy in the room.”
He drove like a shot, parked between ambulances, and tore up to the sixth floor. Kerri, waiting outside holding a child’s book, tilted her head to the room as he scanned its occupants: Rachel, looking newly distraught with Charlie whimpering and curled tight to her; Frank and Gina Wheat upset to have come at a bad time.
Frank in particular was apologizing. “I should have listened to Gina and not come. Maybe he’s remembering the time I yelled at him about the fire extinguisher.” He had his black hair pulled into a man bun.
Billy DeWitt, just inside, watched them all as Kerri filled in Alex.
She’d shown Charlie the whole lineup of photos including Burke, Stefan, and Gilbey; the boy reacted to none of them.
“Didn’t even blink.” She swallowed and pointed subtly. “Until he saw Frank Wheat coming, and he peed.”
Alex followed her gaze to an orderly finishing up with a mop. “Peed,” he echoed solemnly.
“Like he did in his bathroom doorway seeing the attack. It was his only response – pure terror.” Kerri paced a little, throwing up her hand not holding Horton. “I didn’t show him Wheat’s photo,” she hissed low. “Stupid! Why didn’t I? Gina thought he may have had a crush on Rachel.”
“We moved him down the list,” Alex reminded her. “Gina who doesn’t even like him gave him his alibi.”
“I know, the roof leak, the roof leak. But we were unsure, right? How could Gina know where he was every minute - and the attack only took minutes.”
Alex frowned and his jaw tightened. “Those emojis on his stoop – think he could have put them there?”
Kerri’s eyes were grim. “I think we should take another look at him.”
47
They moved Frank and Gina away and stepped in, close to Charlie, between the bed and his blanket-draped cot.
The child whipped around and grabbed Kerri’s hand. “Don’t go,” he whimpered.
“No way, honey. We’re staying right here.” His little face was pinched, frightened. He was back in hospital pajamas, courtesy of a nurse who’d rushed in to change him in the bathroom. Rachel was holding back tears, apologizing to Frank and Gina about stress and “things that triggered.”
“This was a mistake,” Gina said sorrowfully, glancing to her father. They stood at the foot of the bed. “I’ll, uh, come back another time. We just…wanted you to know we cared.”
Rachel thanked them.
And Alex stepped back to them. “I’d like to speak to you,” he said, moving father and daughter out to the hall.
Kerri pulled a chair closer to Charlie. His eyes were shut tight and his trembling mouth turned down. “Honey?” she whispered. “Can you tell me what scared you in the hall?”
Slowly, back and forth, he shook his head, as if his words were locked and he couldn’t get them out. Rachel was on her elbow nuzzling him, her face the picture of despair.
Kerri looked to the side table, to the box of crayons she’d brought and the child’s scrawled-on drawing, the face mostly in black.
Her free hand still held Horton. She put the book on the bed before Charlie, and placed his drawing on the closed cover. A solid, wide surface. Then, next to the drawing, she put the crayon box and opened it; pulled out some bright-colored crayons and splayed them.
“There’s a nice new black one,” she soothed. “Like you wanted last night. Tell us what scared you, Charlie? Remember what Horton says…you have to tell.”
In the hall, Alex had installed Frank and Gina on the same bench occupied by James Burke last night. He stood over them.
“Something frightened Charlie when he saw you coming. Why do you think that was?”
Frank Wheat gave a regretful shrug. “I’m the mean super.” He glanced at Gina, who shook her head, looking down. “I thought Charlie knew I liked him, but that time I yelled at him for pulling at the fire extinguisher must be what upset him. I’m surprised. That was almost a year ago. I’ve been nice to him since.”
“He never forgot,” Gina murmured. “You scolded him bad.”
“I’m sorry.” Frank peered fretfully back to Rachel’s room. A sheen of sweat sprang to his brow and his hand scrubbed his mouth. “Hell, the truth is I didn’t expect him to be there. I heard he was in psychiatric care so just assumed…”
Alex’s eyes narrowed as he watched Wheat. He had read every detail of his statement taken by Connor, but wanted to ask for himself, watch the man’s body language, look for inconsistencies.
He plunged. “Where were you, Mr. Wheat, last Monday night between nine and nine-thirty?”
Frank looked confused. “How should I know? That was…”
“The night of the shooting,” Gina said tightly. “When Rachel and Lauren Huff…you told that detective…”
“For God’s sakes.” Frank said suspiciously. “You mean then? Why are you asking me again?”
“We’re asking everyone again,” Alex said tightly.
Cops asked the same questions over and over. A single inconsistency can change the whole picture. Already there was something a bit peculiar: Frank’s man bun worn high on the back of his head. Hair from his brow and temple were pulled tightly into it, as if not to let a single strand fall down to his collar. He looked different. None of his photos showed him like that.
Alex said, “You came down in a rain slicker and said you’d been on the roof or in your tenant’s fourth floor apartment. But the tenant couldn’t remember-”
“She’s on drugs! On meth or something and practically bounces off
the walls. She never knows what day it is.”
The neighbor’s brain was indeed cooked. Connor and Zienuc had found her unintelligible.
“Which places you nowhere,” Alex pressed, folding his arms. “No one can attest to your whereabouts for every minute.”
Wheat reddened. “Did anyone see me on the stairs below the fourth floor? I don’t think so – because I wasn’t.”
“The stairs were empty and practically dark in spots. No one was out there.”
“So…” Wheat leaned smugly back with his hands clutching his spread knees. “You questioning me on where I wasn’t? ‘Fraid I can’t help you, Detective. There’s lots of places I wasn’t-”
“Dad…”
“Shut up, Gina.” Wheat glared at Alex. “Why are you asking anyway? I heard you made an arrest.”
That was his second slip.
The arrest made him feel safe coming, and he hadn’t expected Charlie. Alex was still hearing, “didn’t expect him to be there, heard he was in psychiatric…”
His hands went to his hips and he switched his gaze to Gina. “And you’d been out, is that correct?”
She nodded somberly. “Like I told you, Monday’s my night off so I went to a couple of bars, got bored, came back. It was after my father called me to go down for some electrical tape.”
“How long before the attack?”
“It had just happened.” Gina’s eyes filled and she shuddered. “I couldn’t believe the street. Couldn’t believe all those people running into the building… Couldn’t believe it was…Rachel.”
Frank Wheat slapped both hands on his knees. “Well, so much for showing our concern,” he said snidely, his eyes not meeting Alex’s. Sweat rolled down his brow. “You mind if we leave now? Or are we arrested too?”
48
Charlie was drawing. No, not drawing. With little boy ferocity he was stabbing at the figure, going over and over the area of black mask on what now resembled a wild black bush more than the wrestler toy’s head. He was obliterating the face.
Alex came to lean over Kerri. “Black crayon,” he murmured, watching, one hand gripping the rail of Rachel’s bed.
She nodded, remembering their running around for crayons last night. “Black’s what you wanted, right Charlie?”
“Yeah.”
The three of them traded looks and held their breaths, watching the crayon stab and drag, now making long lines down the side of the figure’s face, then down the other side.
It was hair. He had added black hair to the figure’s head.
Rachel said softly, “Frank Wheat used to wear his hair even longer, like a ’70s rocker.” She was sitting up against pillows in her blue robe from home.
They watched Charlie. His energy must have been giving him finger cramps, because after a few more minutes he grew tired, lay his crayon down, then lay his head down. He closed his eyes but seemed calmer, as if knowing he was surrounded by protective adults.
Rachel whispered that he’d slept poorly last night, and pointed to the tent. “He must have been up at all hours trying to make that. Jake Benton helped him with it this morning.”
In the next moment Charlie fell asleep. It gave Kerri and Alex the chance to bring up the arrest of a prime suspect. Rachel had already read about it on her phone.
“The case isn’t airtight,” Alex said quietly. “We don’t know how this will affect your witness protection status.”
Rachel didn’t know what to do. Tomorrow was her last day in the hospital.
“I hope it gets more airtight,” she sighed. “Because I want to go home. Charlie’s so used to it, he loves the neighborhood park…”
Kerri urged her to stay in a hotel. “For now,” she said, and leapt for practicality. “In any case your place needs time to be cleaned.”
Rachel understood that.
“Terry Mercer called before you came, when she heard of the arrest and guessed at the witness protection. She knows of companies that clean fast, and the rug can be replaced. I have some money my parents left me, plus savings…”
She looked plaintively at them. “No hotels. Charlie needs what’s familiar. I’m going to tell Terry to go ahead, hire somebody.”
Alex’s face showed both alarm and sympathy. Rachel wasn’t thinking right. And Kerri blurted No a bit too loudly, but it was okay. Charlie was breathing heavily. On top of his poor night’s sleep, the upset he’d just been through had worn him out.
Alex whispered, “Charlie’s afraid of Frank Wheat.”
A dispirited nod. “Always has been. We steer clear.”
“You don’t understand,” Kerri insisted, hunching closer. “In the hall, I saw clear signs of terror. We’re looking at Wheat too. You don’t want to be in that building.”
Movement at the door. They looked up to see Jed Stefan hesitate when he saw them, then put on a bright smile and come in. There was a smudge of makeup over his brow.
“Hey.” He greeted the two detectives as if he’d never been inside a police station; moved to the other side of the bed to kiss Rachel’s cheek. “You’re looking good, thank God.” He glanced from Billy DeWitt by the door to Charlie sleeping.
Rachel started to introduce him.
Alex said stiffly, “We’ve met;” and Stefan said, smiling, “They’re interviewing all your friends. So? How’s it going?”
Rachel pulled her robe tighter, murmuring about the pain lessening and just wanting to go home. Stefan said sure, anybody’d want to go home. “I think that would be good for your little guy,” he said, pointing at sleeping Charlie. “You said he had friends in the neighborhood?”
Kerri and Alex watched him narrowly. He was either stupid or suspect. Going back to her place was not a good idea.
Rachel wanted to get up, and Stefan made a great show of seizing one of the hand weights the physical therapist had left on a side table.
“Been using this?”
“No.”
“You should. It’s important.”
She looked at him.
“Slide down,” he told her, the director directing as compliant Rachel moved past sleeping Charlie to the end of the bed, where he placed the weight in her good hand. It looked like a mini barbell.
“It only weighs like two pounds. Good for your hand in the sling, too. Just squeeze it, keep your finger muscles from atrophying.” He laughed brightly. “That’s it. Squeeze gently. We gotta get you more active. Back home, too.”
Rachel slid her feet over the edge, sat gently squeezing the weight in her good hand, and smiled. “Thanks. I’m ready to start moving more.”
Alex and Kerri both folded their arms. There’d be no more talking to Rachel till she was alone again, but they watched Stefan for another minute.
He ran a hand through his long, darkish hair, got his phone out, leaned and took a selfie of himself with Rachel.
She was startled, but saw the two detectives moving toward the door and that distracted her.
“On second thought maybe a hotel,” she told them uncertainly, looking sheepish about the selfie. “At least I have another day here.”
“Hotel?” Stefan asked.
“Something between us.” Rachel looked anxious. “The not-airtight thing,” she said cryptically. “You’ll call?”
“Of course and be back,” Kerri said firmly; and Alex asked Stefan, “How’s the play coming?”
“Fabulous, thanks.” He graced them both with a grin. “We’re getting a big response.”
“Saw you promoting it on Twitter,” Kerri said with an edge. “Maybe wake Charlie, you can get a group shot.”
Dammit, she thought, wishing Charlie could see Stefan in person too.
“Naw, let him sleep,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I was surprised to even see him here. Thought he’d be in, uh…”
“Child psychiatry?” Rachel minded that. “No, he’s happier here.”
“Well hey, happy is good.”
They watched him check his phone for the picture he�
��d taken, seeming less than pleased with it. He looked across to the flowers lining the window sill.
“Like my bouquet?” he asked Rachel. “It still looks nice, huh?”
“It’s beautiful,” she smiled. He put his arm back around her, caught her smile, and took another selfie.
She minded that too.
“Not in my robe,” she pleaded. “C’mon, delete them. I’m embarrassed.”
Stefan insisted that she looked wonderful! People would rejoice to see what a survivor she was!
Kerri scowled and sent Rachel a look: Hang in there.
“We’ll be back,” she said again.
49
“What a manipulator,” Alex growled as they waited for the elevator.
It arrived and was full of house staff in scrubs, so Kerri had six floors and a long wait on three for much getting on and off. It gave her time to think of who bothered her more.
“Frank Wheat,” she said, crossing the teeming lobby. “If you could have seen Charlie react to him…”
“He and Stefan never expected Charlie to be there,” Alex muttered. “And neither showed up till after they heard there’d been an arrest.”
“Never dreaming they’d run into us, ha.”
They stopped for quick burgers at a place they loved. Beams, brick walls, and a fireplace with a real fire in it. Squint: you’re in an old country tavern; forget the city’s dirt and asphalt.
“So?” Alex asked, waving an onion ring. “Impressions of Stefan before we focus on Wheat?”
“He strikes me as just another theater grad, hustling everyone and everything to make his name,” Kerri said between bites. “He has his whole self-deluded future before him, and he’s too vain to jeopardize it. Wheat, on the other hand, is older, bitter and dangerous. He’s hurt Gina.”
“Which could suggest violence in his past. We’ll research him.” Alex put his Coke down. “That pushy selfie. What do you bet it’s already on Twitter?”
Kerri got out her phone, went to Jed Stefan’s account and faked surprise. “Well gosh, you’re right, here he is hugging Rachel. Listen to this - ‘Rachel Sparkes glad to be alive & I couldn’t be happier!’”
Shoeless Child Page 16