by V. K. Powell
“You brought the cocaine?” Baron nodded. “You forced him to snort it?” Again he nodded. “How?”
“I put my gun to his temple and threatened to blow his fucking brains out.”
Greer’s heart ached as she imagined what Eva must be feeling. “Did anything unusual happen while you were there? Did the man say anything or make any last requests?” Greer wanted to confirm that Baron was in fact in the room, and one minor detail that hadn’t been released to the press could do that.
Baron scratched his head as if in deep thought. “He begged a little and he wanted to take his shoes off. I guess his feet were hot or something. He took off his shoes and socks and threw them around the room.”
Bingo. She had Paul’s killer. A tremendous wave of relief swept through her and she felt almost giddy. All the hours and days of uncertainty about whether Paul had committed suicide or died of an accidental overdose vanished. Eva had been right all along, and Greer was glad she’d agreed to help her, in spite of the challenges her decision had raised. Sometimes justice required a degree of discomfort.
Greer wanted all the tiny bits and pieces of the case before she addressed motive or accomplices. If she led Baron through each event, he would have no bartering kernels. “And you shot Tom Merritt in the warehouse.”
Baron looked surprised. “Why would you think that?”
“Because Eva Saldana was snooping around in her brother’s death. She wouldn’t let it rest. You had to do something. So you called Eva, pretending to be an informant, and set up the meeting. But you’re a bad shot. You missed.”
“I told her to come alone. That guy wasn’t supposed to die. I was aiming for her.”
As the callousness of his statement registered, Greer wanted to vault over the table and choke him lifeless. He’d admitted to trying to kill the woman she loved. It took all her restraint to remain professional and continue the interrogation.
Baron kept talking. “I even jumped you that night at the Sunset Motel to get you to back off. Women—jeez, you’re a stubborn bunch.”
Greer wasn’t concerned about her minor assault. She wanted to get to the bottom of Paul’s case and everything that had happened since. “And Sergeant Fluharty? Why did you shoot him?” The question registered like a slap on Baron’s face. He seemed genuinely surprised and confused. Greer could see the seldom-used wheels turning in his mind.
After several seconds of silence, Baron regained his blank expression and answered simply, “It had to be done.”
Baron took too long to come up with an answer. The truth didn’t require time for consideration or fabrication. And Baron made no reference to the sergeant trying to shoot him, stop him, or even block his path. Greer was even more convinced that Fluharty was involved in these crimes. She would come back to this line of questioning later.
“And when you botched the first attempt on Eva’s life, you kept trying?”
“She wouldn’t stop. So I thought a car accident would look natural.”
“And when that failed?”
“I watched your house until I found her alone and made my move. But I didn’t hurt her.”
Greer clenched her fists under the table to keep from attacking him. He’d admitted trying to shoot Eva and run her off the road. Did he expect her to believe the kidnapping was harmless? “I’m having trouble believing that one. If you didn’t intend to hurt her, why kidnap her?”
“I knew I was in deep shit and needed something to barter with. I was waiting for you to find me tonight and I’d tell you everything.”
“And have you told me everything?” Baron had been cautious about revealing his accomplice. This had to be the piece he hoped to use as leverage for a more lenient sentence. But she didn’t intend to let him off lightly. She’d lay the case out in such a manner that Baron would get absolutely no consideration for cooperation. She owed it to Paul and Eva.
“Not yet. You don’t know who the boss behind this whole thing was, and you don’t know why we did it.”
This was the moment Greer had waited patiently for. This was her opportunity to snatch any chance of a deal out from under his nose. But it was bittersweet. She reviewed the sergeant’s recent behavior and appearance. The steady decline after his divorce suddenly made sense. She had to play a hand that she never thought she’d hold. The words tasted sour as she forced them from her mouth.
“Let me tell you who the boss is and why you did it. You and Fred Fluharty are in the drug business together. The why is simple—greed.”
She thought she might have to call a medic for Baron as he paled and his breathing became rapid and irregular. “How—how did you know?” he finally managed to ask.
“I’m a cop, Baron. It’s what I do, figure things out. So Fluharty told you about the warehouse meeting and you hid inside until we arrived.”
“Yeah, and I had to shoot him to make it look like he wasn’t involved. I should’ve killed that bastard a long time ago.”
“So it was you and Fluharty in the warehouse the night Paul took the photos.”
“That’s why I had to get the camera and take care of him.”
Greer had all the pieces she needed but one—why would Fred Fluharty resort to dealing drugs? What had gone so terribly wrong in his life? But that was a question she had to ask him face-to-face.
“Well, I think I’ve heard all I need to from you.” She couldn’t wait to get away from Baron Wallace, have a shower, and scrub the stench of his evil from her body. Eva would need her now, and she definitely needed Eva. This had been a long and unhappy journey that brought them together. If they were to have a life, it would need to begin with resolution of the past. Greer rose and walked to the door.
“Not so fast, copper.” His tone shifted from that of a submissive minion to a man with a purpose. It stopped her cold.
“What?”
“We haven’t talked about my deal.”
“There won’t be any deal, Baron, because you didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. That’s how it works.” Delivering that message gave Greer more pleasure than she had imagined. But he still wore a determined, smug grin.
“So you’re not interested in why your girlfriend died?”
Chapter Twenty-one
Greer clutched the door handle to the interview room, afraid she might twist it off. How dared this drug-dealing killer mention Clare, much less try to use her death as a bargaining tool? “I know why she died. Johnny Young, your predecessor, was a desperate bastard who went on a shooting spree and killed her.”
“You don’t know shit. And if you want the real story, it’ll cost you.”
The next thing Greer remembered, JJ and Agent Long were restraining her. She was inches from Baron Wallace’s face with her fist poised to strike. Her jaws hurt from clenching her teeth so tight and her head pounded with fury. “You will tell me.” She refused to accept the possibility that any aspect of Clare’s death was unresolved or unsettled.
“Greer, stop,” JJ whispered in her ear. “He’s jerking your chain. He’s got nothing.”
“Oh, but I do, Detective,” Baron answered. “And if you want to know what it is, the name of the game is Let’s Make a Deal.”
Greer struggled to free herself and go after Wallace, but JJ and Long held firm. What could Baron Wallace possibly know about Clare’s death? The killer was dead, the case closed. Sergeant Fluharty had prevented the need for a trial.
The last thought drained her. “Let go,” she said to JJ. A month ago she would’ve bet her career that no one could buy Fred Fluharty for any amount of money. But with the recent revelations, anything was possible. What didn’t she know about Clare’s death? Had that information allowed a co-conspirator to go free for the past two years?
“Talk to the DA.” She locked gazes with Agent Long, challenging him to defy her, and left the room. She stumbled into the hall in a daze and backed against the wall for support. She didn’t realize Eva was next to her until she spoke.
“Greer, don’t let this person get to you. He’s desperate.” Eva encircled Greer in her arms and pulled her close. “He’s playing some sort of sick game.”
Raising her head to meet Eva’s gaze, Greer asked, “But what if he isn’t? I accepted her death as a random act of violence. What if we missed something? I’ve just come to terms with losing her. But if I failed her in some way, I couldn’t forgive myself.”
“You couldn’t fail anyone, Greer, especially not Clare. It’s not in your nature. She certainly knew that and so do I.”
“I want to believe that,” Greer said as she paced the hallway waiting for Agent Long to return with the district attorney’s offer. When she saw his face, she knew Wallace had a deal.
“You want me to question him?” JJ’s tone was tentative and gentle. He knew the gravity of this situation and how much it meant to Greer.
“No, I have to do it, but thanks.” She wondered if she could.
“If you’re sure. You have to be—”
“I know, professional, and not beat the crap out of him. I can handle it, JJ.” She gave Eva a smile that she hoped was reassuring and reentered the interview room.
“So, you believe me, huh?” Baron asked with a self-satisfied smirk.
“Not until I hear what you have to say. So start talking.” She handed him the DA’s offer, which he skimmed and slid back to her. “You realize this deal only offers leniency in sentencing, not a full pardon or immunity from prosecution, right?”
“Sure, but every little bit helps. Your girl didn’t have to die that day.”
Every muscle in Greer’s body tensed and her nerves sparked with emotion, but she remained quiet and restrained.
“Johnny Young and Fluharty were in business before I took over. Fluharty stole drugs from your evidence room after the cases were tried and passed them along to Young to sell.”
“Why would Sergeant Fluharty suddenly decide to go into the drug business?”
“His old lady left him and he took it pretty hard. I guess he loved her or some bullshit like that. Anyway, she wanted a big alimony check and he couldn’t give it to her on a cop’s salary.”
“How did he and Young connect?” Greer knew a follow-up interview would flesh out all the details of Wallace’s statement, but she needed the salient points now.
“Fluharty got drunk in a bar a couple of towns over, got in a fight, and Johnny helped him out. They started talking and it happened a little bit at a time until the business was booming. Fluharty liked the extra cash and it kept the ex off his back.”
Greer found it hard to believe someone had lured her sergeant into criminal activity so easily. But she understood the depths of despair that loss and loneliness produced. She’d lost herself after Clare died. “So what happened then?”
“Fluharty was greedy and Johnny got tired of being milked for a bigger cut.”
Greer’s patience was wearing thin. “What does that have to do with Clare Lansing’s murder? Get to the point or your deal is off the table.”
“Johnny was willing to risk being locked up to confront Fluharty that day. He intended to turn him over to the chief, blackmail him, or kill him. But somebody tipped Fluharty off that he was coming. The sergeant met him on the steps of the police station and you know the rest. Johnny fired first, hit your girl, then Fluharty shot and killed Johnny. Problem solved and Fluharty looked like a hero.”
The churning in Greer’s stomach worsened and she fought the urge to vomit. Clare had been caught in an argument between two drug dealers. The senselessness of it ripped at Greer’s heart and she wanted to scream. It happened to people every day in cities around the world, but she couldn’t imagine that her lover would be the victim of such a tragic act. She’d accepted the idea that Clare’s death was an arbitrary act of violence. She wasn’t sure which was worse.
“How do you know this?”
“I was Johnny’s second. He told me what he planned that day. And being an industrious businessman, I made an anonymous call to Fluharty. When Johnny didn’t come back, I heard what happened on the news. Good and bad for me—I was in charge but I inherited Fluharty. So what does this get me?”
“That’s between you and the district attorney.” She hoped it got him absolutely nothing. “My concern right now is Fred Fluharty.” But concern wasn’t the right word. She tried to pinpoint an emotion that described her feelings at this moment but couldn’t.
“You might be too late.”
“What do you mean?”
“All that sugar he drinks in his coffee will kill him someday.” Baron laughed and shook his head. “But I’d love to share a cell with him for a few hours. Can you arrange that?”
Greer stood and walked out of the room without answering his question. When JJ and Eva tried to stop her in the hall, she kept walking. “JJ, call Bessie and have her come get Eva.” Then she looked at the woman she loved. “Please go home, Eva, and don’t argue with me, not this time.” She needed answers, and to get them she had to face Fred Fluharty.
The sharp edge of betrayal sliced through Greer like concertina wire as she remembered the many times she’d confided in her sergeant. She’d fallen apart in his office on numerous occasions, and he’d comforted and supported her. He’d arranged for her transfer into the homicide squad “to look after her” for Bessie. She couldn’t recall how often he’d covered for her because she was too devastated to come to work. Now she understood the source of his concern—guilt. He was responsible for Clare’s death and was trying to make amends. But that was an impossible task. He’d committed the one offense for which Greer could never forgive him, and she needed to tell him.
Agent Long caught up to her in the parking lot. “Ellis, I know you have to confront him, but we’re going with you.” He motioned behind him to her squad mates. “He denied everything this afternoon, so who knows what he’ll do.”
“I don’t care who comes along, just don’t get in my way—not this time.”
When they arrived at the rundown hotel, Fluharty’s room door was partially open. Greer nudged it wide with her foot and stepped inside, motioning for the others to stay back. “Sarge,” she called out, but the room was dark and quiet. She flipped on the table lamp and saw him lying across the bed. “Sarge.” No answer.
Greer moved closer and noticed an empty coffee cup and a dark stain on the bedcovers next to his left side. To the right lay a note written on hotel stationery and his service weapon. Fluharty’s skin was ashen and cold to the touch, with no apparent signs of injury. Whitish gray froth clung to the corners of his mouth. Greer checked for a pulse but didn’t find one. “He’s gone,” she said to the officers behind her.
With the tips of her fingernails, Greer tweezed the note off the bed and read silently:
Greer,
Forgive me. I never intended to hurt anyone, especially you. Clare’s death was a horrible accident. I tried to make it up to you over the past two years, but I know I failed. I’ve disgraced the department, our profession, and myself. This is the only way out for me.
Fluharty
“I’ll notify the state forensics lab and have them process the scene,” Agent Long said. “I’m not sure what happened here, but it looks like suicide.”
Greer noticed a chalky white residue in the bottom of the overturned coffee cup. “Have your folks check the cup and his sugar container for cocaine. It could be narcotics poisoning. Remember Baron’s wisecrack about sugar killing him someday?” That would be apropos, though she wished she’d had a chance to confront him.
She walked to her vehicle and scooted onto the hood. JJ joined her and nudged her in the side. “He fooled us all. It sucks big-time.”
“You can say that again, but it clears up a lot of things, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, like why he was so anxious for me to close the Saldana file so fast. He was covering his drug business. He’s probably even responsible for the missing hotel guest register, because I know I put a copy in the file. I guess if I wa
s really desperate I could understand needing money bad enough to commit a crime, but not murder. I still can’t believe he ordered Baron to kill Paul Saldana.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t jive with the man I thought I knew, the man I considered a friend.”
“But once he’d committed himself, he had to keep going. He was in too deep. When Eva came to town she threw a monkey wrench in the works.”
“And I was the perfect patsy. He needed somebody on the case review that he could control, somebody he knew would come straight to him with any new leads. And I did. He fed every bit of information I gave him to Baron. I was the one who put Eva and Bessie at risk. Hell, I’m even responsible for Tom’s death. How stupid.”
“Stop it.” JJ’s voice was firm. He grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. “None of this is your fault, so don’t even go there. And in case you’ve forgotten, you stood up to the entire squad. You even kept investigating after the chief and the SBI told you to stand down. Nobody pulls your strings when it comes to your job, partner, nobody. This is all on Fluharty, so let it go.”
“But I trusted him.”
“We all did, and he betrayed us. That hurts. I’m beginning to understand how much damage disloyalty can cause. But we’ll help each other through it.”
Greer nodded and her spirits lifted a bit.
“Good. Now I have to brief the Staties and get going. I’ve got a date.”
“A date? What about Janice?”
“Janice is my date. She’s agreed to see me. We might be able to work this thing out, but she needs time to trust me again.”
Greer patted him on the back as she slid off the hood of her car. “Good for you, Jake. Best of luck. Think I’ll go home too. If I’m lucky, a gorgeous reporter’s waiting there to throw herself into my arms and pledge her love.”