Kyle replied that he didn’t want to be anywhere near those two regardless.
“I hear you, boy,” Lundy added. “I hear you loud and clear.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
K aren sensed the change immediately upon entering the squad room. The air was charged with electricity owing to the latest breakthrough in the Benson case. Last night when she and Will got back to the station, they started the process of obtaining warrants to search Joe Fraga’s office and home. Today they would meet him, armed with the information Gloria DiAngelo had supplied.
Will was in the back of the squad room talking animatedly with Bill Benjamin. Frank Garcia stood looking solemn, arms crossed, listening to Tom Grant whose beer gut bobbled over his belt as he gestured wildly. Garcia saw her and beckoned her over to them.
“Hey there. Nice score from that trainer y’all chatted with yesterday. About time we got something to go on,” he said as he gave her a gentle thunk on her back.
Karen winced. “I don’t know. I’m eating, drinking and sleeping this damned case. Seems everyone involved needs some big time priming before they give over any information. We’re on a two interview minimum with all the wits.”
Grant stopped gnawing on his upper lip and added, “This Fraga sounds like a real winner. If we can’t nail him for murder, well get him on the drugs. That’s worth some points, at least. Kaufman was telling us the perv was keeping Benson stoned so he could get a piece of her action.”
Karen nodded. “Yeah, that pretty much seems to be the deal there. He’s dirty and not just a little sick, but for some reason I’m not feeling him for murder. From what DiAngelo told us about his sex life, or whatever you want to call it, I’m thinking he’s way too much of a coward to be our guy.”
Garcia shook his head. “Hmm. I don’t know about that, just ‘cause they can’t fuck doesn’t mean they can’t kill. Kaufman’s saying he thinks the doctor is totally capable of murder.”
“Will said that?” Karen rubbed at her temple. “That’s the first time since we caught this case he’s considered anyone but Kyle Sands. How refreshing.”
“Between the two of you it’s amazing you’ve gotten anywhere on this thing. You guys better start putting your personal crap on a rack somewhere, or you’re both going to be looking at new partners soon.”
“Tom, don’t get me wrong here. I’m not badmouthing Will. It’s just that he seems to be stuck on Kyle Sands as the killer, has been from day one. That’d be fine by me if there weren’t a minefield of other suspects. There are so many players around that it boggles my mind. Uh, I don’t mean players as in the Demons. I’m talking about the whole picture, as in all the people. Jesus, God almighty, I need a break. I’m talking so even I don’t understand myself.”
“Interesting that you should mention Kaufman so set on Sands, because the way he’s been telling it, you’re the one stuck on Sands, but not as a suspect.”
Karen cleared her throat in an attempt to clear her mind. “Will said that?” She could feel her face flush, and found the room suddenly stifling. She tugged at her collar.
“Well, uh, you know, like you said, he’s pretty bent on Sands for the bad guy, but claims you been giving Sands the eye. Says you haven’t been behaving in a professional manner when it comes to that guy.”
Frank Garcia, who had been listening to the exchange, added, “Uh huh, that’s true enough. He’s been talking around for a coupla days now. Don’t get your panties up in a wad over it, though, Karen. You know Kaufman when he goes off on a tear. But Tom said it right. The both of you gotta put this crap behind you and move on. Captain gets word of this bullshit and you’re both gonna be S.O.L.”
Karen took a deep breath and started to respond, but Garcia averted his eyes and nodded his head. Will and Benjamin were coming toward them.
“Hey doll,” Will called out, as though everything between them was just fine. “We been waiting for you. Time to roll out and take some prisoners.”
Her emotions must have written themselves all over her face because he lost his smile and hesitated before continuing. “What’s eating you, Detective Brandt? Haven’t had your coffee, or what? Didn’t these jamocas do it for you? The warrants went through without a problem and we got teams ready to hit Fraga’s home and office at the same time. That ought to blindside the bastard. I’m feeling real good about this. Psyched even.”
Through her teeth Karen hissed, “You’re psycho is what you are.” She turned on her heels, starting toward the door. “Let’s take this outside.”
Everyone in the squad room turned their eyes toward Will. He looked around and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m innocent,” he chuckled. “Must be her time of month!”
One of the female detectives in Robbery called out, “Watch it Kaufman. We got rules to handle sexist cops like you.”
He found Karen outside, leaning against a parking meter. She was lighting a cigarette. “Hey, woman, what’s with you? You haven’t smoked in two years.”
“So let that be your first clue as to just how pissed I am, huh Will?”
He squinted at her and as asked, “What’d I do, babe? I say something wrong? It wasn’t intentional, whatever it was, I swear it.”
Karen inhaled deeply and let the smoke slowly out. She then pulled herself up to her full height and spat, “Wasn’t intentional? You sorry son of a bitch. You’ve been talking behind my back. How dare you, Will? How fucking dare you? Putting my career in jeopardy because you have a bug up your ass about me and a murder suspect! How can you even look me in the eye?”
“Aw, come on Karen, honey. I was just talking. You know, doing my thing, talking the talk. Honest, I swear it. You’re making too much out of this. I mean, it’s not as though anyone took me seriously.”
Karen looked hard at him. She had taken every precaution to avoid doing anything that might arouse suspicion about her and Kyle. But damn, Will would not back off. Her feelings for Kyle had only driven her to work harder at finding who the real murderer was. She never once let her bias affect her skills. Yet now here she was, defending herself against gossip spread by her own partner.
But how could she protest too hard. How could she protest at all? It was the truth. Kyle Sands had taken her breath away, along with all her good sense. She had been so careful to not let her emotions affect her handling of the case. She had taken each and every clue and treated it with the utmost respect. There was always an element of gut instinct in an investigation, and she couldn’t help but follow hers in this one.
Of course she was over-rationalizing her outrageous behavior, and Will was not a stupid man. In fact, his accusations were not just close to the truth, they were right on the bulls-eye. Regardless, it had ripped her wide open with surprise that he would rat her out to the other detectives without any warning to her. She never would have done it to him, and Will had to know it.
“Karen?” Will snapped his fingers then waved his hands in an attempt to get her attention. “You in there?” She looked at him for a moment before she found her voice and was able to speak.
“I don’t know you anymore, Will. From the beginning of this case you’ve been a different person. I do know we’re both believers in gut instinct, but it’s more than that here. It was as though the moment we entered Kyle Sand’s building that first day, you were out to get him. You’ve been wired up with accusations and haven’t even given a thought to anyone else as the killer.
“But the worst part is you’ve turned on me. All the nasty remarks about my infatuation with the suspect, the snickers, the attitude. I could take it so long as it was directed at me, but going behind my back in the Department. God! Never mind the humiliation; it’s the lack of respect. You put me out there and now the tongues are wagging. I’m on the fucking block! What if it gets to the brass? Did you even think about that? What happens to me then? I’d be a leper around here. Have to turn in my badge because no one would ever want to work with me again.”
A crackle of thunder sou
nded, and Will looked up, but he remained quiet. The sky had darkened and the smell of rain was in the air. Lightening streaked angrily across the black thunderheads that had appeared from nowhere. Finally, he looked toward Karen and said, “Looks like it’s gonna rain, huh?”
She was stunned. It was as though he hadn’t heard a word.
“Did you hear anything I said? Do you not care in the least that you’ve put my career in jeopardy? I don’t deserve this, Will. I don’t get it and I don’t deserve it.” She paused, waiting for a response.
Will, however, looked away from her. He seemed to be studying a meter maid who was writing a ticket. “Looks like she’s gonna ticket that Mercedes,” he said to no one in particular.
“Goddammit, Will!” Karen hissed. “If it’s going to be this way, then when this case is over, if I’ve still got a job, I’m asking for a new partner. Whatever happens, whoever turns out to be the dirtball that killed Jessica Benson, I won’t work with you again.” She dropped her cigarette and ground the butt into the sidewalk with her heel.
“Whatever, babe. We all have to keep things in perspective, and to tell you the truth, I think you’re so infatuated with that jock, you should be off this case. You stand there reaming me out like your pretty little nose is so clean. Well, I’m not buying into your bullshit either, doll. So how about we agree to disagree for now. Once we’ve wrapped this up — and I’m feeling like we’re getting real close — we can deal with our personal shit. Meanwhile, I gotta go take a piss. See you upstairs.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
B efore instituting the dual search at Dr. Joe Fraga’s home and office, it was determined that the doctor left the Demons’ compound early in the day claiming to be ill. As a result, Detectives Benjamin and Grant were heading up a team to search the office, while Karen and Will were set to investigate his residence. They did not expect to find much of anything at the office and in fact, suspected the big chance to recover any evidence would be at the house. Because it was their case, they wanted to be the ones at that venue.
“The good doctor’s feeling ‘ill.’ We’re about to make him downright sick,” Will chuckled.
The muscles in Karen’s jaw twitched as she listened to Will wax on as though that incident at the station had never taken place. Finally, hoping to end his running stream of chit chat, she droned back at him, “I just want to get it over with. I guess I don’t have the same thirst for the kill as you.”
“Come now, woman. We’ve got way too much to accomplish today for you to hold a grudge, don’t you think? So how about let’s put our little spat behind us and get on with business as usual.”
She was fed-up with Will and had lost any desire to maintain the pretense of a partnership. As far as Karen was concerned, she was through with him, not only as a partner but also as a friend. There was no question she was in the wrong, but he had done the unspeakable. He had put her out to her colleagues and left her to dry. Feeling as though she couldn’t listen to another moment of his bullshit and no longer caring whether she pissed him off, she reluctantly said what she surmised would be the final nail in her career coffin.
“It wasn’t a little spat Will. Business between us will never be as usual again. I meant what I said before. When this gig is over, you and I are going our separate ways.”
Will grunted, but said nothing further. In fact, he did not look her way again and they rode the rest of the trip in a vacuum.
Finally, he turned the car onto a side street, not far from Mazie Rose’s house. But where Mazie’s home was stately, the doctor’s house was a horror show on steroids. It was a castle, literally, a castle, complete with a mote and a spiked concrete wall surrounding it. The chic elegance of the entire street was destroyed by the bizarre structure — a true study in bad taste.
His neighbors must hate him, Karen thought.
“Well, looky here,” Will bubbled. “The doctor’s home is his castle, literally.”
Karen was so overwhelmed by the sight of it, she forgot how angry she was and asked him, “What would possess someone to build something like this? it’s a nightmare! What could he have been thinking?”
“Hell, if I know. Ate too many of his own drugs, I guess. But I can tell you this... Even if there are sharks in that pool, we’re going in!”
Frank Garcia pulled up behind them in the crime scene van. He parked and walked over to their car. Will opened his door and stepped out.
Garcia was shaking his head and pointing at the aberration that was Joe Fraga’s house. “Is this guy kidding? This place has gotta be a joke, and if it’s not, then I’m thinking he’s got a helluva shot at an insanity plea.”
“No accounting for people’s taste, or should I say lack of it,” Will responded.
“I suppose. You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be. You think the asshole is gonna open that gate without a problem, or are we gonna have to get a battering ram and SWAT team?”
“Shit, I hope so.”
Karen, who had been over at the gate trying to appraise the situation inside, came over and joined the men. “Hey Frank.”
“Hey, Karen. You feeling lucky?”
“Yeah, . That’s the word all right. I don’t guess standing here being stupefied over the view is getting us anywhere, so why don’t we just get moving and take care of business.”
“Well, .” Garcia laughed and ruffled her hair. “You’re mighty feisty today. So go ahead, Wonderwoman, lead the way.”
She cocked her head toward the house and said, “Okay. Follow me, boys.” At the gate she pushed a button under the speaker.
It was close to two minutes before anyone answered.
“Buenos Dias. May I help you, please?” The voice was soft and timid.
Will spoke up. “Police. We’re here to see Dr. Fraga.”
“I am sorry, el doctoro is not well. He is seeing no visitors today.”
“Please advise el doctoro that he has detectives from the Miami Beach Police Department out here waiting to speak to him. We’re sure he’d rather talk to us here at his home than down at the station where I promise him, he will feel a lot worse. Comprehende?
“And, uh, by the way, m’am, I assume your green card is handy?” He turned and winked at Karen and Garcia.
The buzzer sounded immediately, and the maid told them to come in. The three of them entered and began negotiating through the maze of trees and paths.
Garcia asked, “What’s with you and the attitude, Will? We aren’t INS. You didn’t have to hassle her about papers. It’s not as though it’s her fault her boss is a piece of shit.”
Will glared at him and said, “Hey, we’re in, aren’t we?”
Karen stopped walking as they came to a wooden bridge over the mote. “Guys, look! We’re dealing with someone who’s certifiable. There are sharks in there!
Garcia took a quick step backward. “Damn! You’re right! This one’s as crazy as they come. We’ll be doing the world a service putting this freak behind bars.”
The housekeeper was standing by the open front door. She was a coffee brown caricature of the average paperless refugee. Karen figured her to be in her mid- to late thirties. Her eyes were tired and reflected the soul of a woman resigned to a lifetime of servitude.
“I am Lupe. The doctor has asked please you are to wait in the living room for him. He will be downstairs very quickly.” She paused for a moment, frightened eyes peering from detective to detective. “I will have trouble from you? You wish to make me leave your country?”
Karen moved toward her and touched her arm. “Lupe, this is not your problem. Our business is with the doctor. You understand?” The little woman averted Karen’s eyes, and said, “Yes, thank you missus. You are very kind. You will not send me back to my country today?”
“No. No, we won’t do that.”
“Ay, gracias, muchas gracias, senora. I will show you where you are to wait.”
She led them to a massive high-ceilinged room. It was as
dark and as uninviting as a place could possibly be. Small, lightless windows gave Karen the sensation of being closed in — suffocating — regardless of the enormity of the space. It shouted medieval and oozed depression.
There were no sofas, but rather, oversized high-backed chairs constructed with very dark wood and upholstered in charcoal crushed velvet. A stone fireplace dominated an entire wall, with suits of armor guarding either side. Lupe indicated toward the chairs, and said, “To be comfortable,” then turned and left them to gawk.
Will whistled the theme from Twilight Zone. “Man, I knew this guy was some kind of strange, but this is way over the edge.”
“I think this is going to be fun, actually,” Garcia smiled.
A few minutes passed before Joe Fraga entered the room. His usual impeccable grooming was replaced by a disheveled, wilted blob. Bloodshot eyes betrayed either a late night or too much drugs and liquor, or both. Or perhaps they had just awakened him.
The doctor, in what appeared an attempt to look more presentable when he saw the three detectives, pulled himself to his full height, threw his shoulders back and cleared his throat. He hesitated for just a moment and then started towards them, ranting loudly.
“What’s so important that you must bust into my home like this? My maid said you had to see me immediately. Well, I think that’s a bunch of horse nipples, and I suggest you remove yourselves from the premises. You may call my secretary at the office to schedule a time more convenient to me if you have something you wish to discuss with me.” His voice, usually smooth and practiced, was gravelly.
Will looked at the doctor as though he’d just found him under a rock.
“Late night, doc? You’re looking a little wobbly there, huh? Tough luck, asshole, but we won’t be postponing anything.” He walked over to Fraga and handed him the search warrant. “We don’t plan on leaving any time soon, doc. So why don’t you just talk amongst yourself, hm? I’ll give you a topic. ‘You’re fucked.’”
The Mystery of Jessica Benson Page 17