Berlin cleared his throat. “When did you leave, Simmons?”
Simmons let out a sigh. “I wasn’t there long. I just wanted to check up on her. By the way, why did you have your boys camped outside, anyway?”
Berlin smirked. “If she didn’t tell you, then I see no reason to tell you. It’s none of your business.”
“This is insane,” Simmons said. “I didn’t start any fire. Tim was my friend. A friend to all of you,” he said, looking in between Berlin and Richardson at the other three men crowded in behind them. “Christ, is it a crime that I went to see her?”
“Maybe not, but someone died in that fire.”
“They did?” Richardson asked, his anger subsiding momentarily. “Who?”
“We’re still trying to figure that out.” Berlin took a breath. “So I’ll ask again, when did you leave? Did you see anyone suspicious outside? On the street?” Berlin knew that he had to cover his bases. If Simmons had seen the masked people, it could be just as useful.
Simmons closed his eyes. “I didn’t see anyone. It was just a casual visit. I was there, I said my peace, and I left. Whaddya want me to say?”
Berlin weighed his response. “All right. Let’s change focus then. Where were you on the night of Scott’s murder?”
Simmons threw his arms up. “Jesus Christ! Terry, can we get this guy out of here now?”
Richardson looked over at Berlin, as if he was trying to read his mind. “Ya know, I think you should answer the man.”
“What?” Simmons asked, genuinely surprised.
“Answer him. You weren’t here when the other detective came by, askin’ us questions. You were off, gallivanting or whatever the hell it is that you do.”
Well this was a change of pace, Berlin thought. Was Richardson finally taking the reins here?
Berlin watched Simmons for a tell. It was two on one now, he had no way out. Nowhere else left to turn. “I was just…I was out with a female friend,” Simmons said.
Berlin had a feeling that he could take it from here. Finally. He pulled out his notebook and pen. “Got a name? Address for this female friend?”
“Raquel,” Simmons said.
“Raquel, what?”
“Raquel Willis.”
“And where might I find her?”
“Uh…Russell Avenue.”
“Good,” Berlin said, jotting the information down. “That wasn’t so hard, eh? How long were you with Ms. Willis?”
“All night.”
“You didn’t pop out at all? Run to the store or anything like that?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Okay. I’ll be following up with Ms. Willis.”
Simmons flexed his jaw muscles and said, “Of course. Whatever works.”
Berlin put his notebook back in his pocket while he stood. He looked at Richardson, who was eyeing Simmons suspiciously. “Thanks for your time, and Terry, I’d keep an eye on this one if I were you.”
“Naturally,” Richardson said.
CHAPTER 35
‘A cop killed your man.’
That’s what the inmate Leonard had told him yesterday at the Detention Center. Did it fit? Could Simmons have done it? He worked with Scott, had the opportunity to be close to him, so Scott wouldn’t have expected anything. Certainly not murder.
Simmons could get close to Lexi, too.
But what about Exodus Clay? So far, everything pointed to him. Him or one of his goons. He was looking to gain control of the city, taking it away from Sokolov. And with that reporter’s story about the Port condo project added to the mix, it seemed trustworthy. If he made the developer disappear, the project would be stalled, and then he’d be able to buy back the property at a cheaper rate. It wouldn’t take him long to set up shop, twist some arms on City Council, and build his empire.
That was how Ivan Sokolov got things done. There’d be no reason to think that a guy like Clay couldn’t do it as well. History had a way of repeating itself.
Berlin shook his head at the futility of it all. Weak and powerless. Corruption ran deep in the city, but how far would it go?
Back on the road, he was heading for Russell Avenue, to find this Raquel Willis. He was out of time. This was the last day that Ecker had awarded him before the case would then be turned over to someone else. He couldn’t let that happen. He didn’t want to let him down, nor Tim Scott. He felt that he owed it to him, to make things right. Now with Lexi missing, he had no choice but to figure it out.
His phone buzzed from inside his coat and he reached for it quickly with one hand.
“This is Berlin,” he said.
“Yo, I found our guy.”
“Mitch. What guy?” Berlin asked.
“You know, the guy in the photos. Him?”
“Oh, right. Sorry, my head was elsewhere for a second. What do you have?”
“It’s a dead end, man. Our guy is clean.”
“How so?”
“Get this, he’s her lawyer. As in divorce lawyer.”
“They were splitting?”
“Looks like.”
“What about the—”
“Yeah, that was a mistake he said. Didn’t last long. Broke it off a few weeks back.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“He’s clean. He’s got a wife and kid, man. Can you believe that?”
“Alibi?”
“Solid. School play. He showed me the footage. On camera appearance an’ everything.”
Berlin mulled it over. “All right. It was worth a shot.”
“You know, there’s something that we haven’t really thought of yet,” Mitchell said.
“What’s that?” Berlin asked.
“What about Mrs. Scott? Maybe she set the fire and hightailed it outta there?”
Berlin hadn’t really considered that. Could she have done it? Killed her husband? “I don’t know. It’s highly unlikely. Besides, whoever murdered Scott had training, Mitch. You saw that scene.”
He heard Mitchell laugh quietly on the other end. “Who’s to say that the husband didn’t train her? Lots of folks take target practice lessons nowadays. What if there’s a B & E? Better to surprise the intruder than to have him surprise you, no?”
Berlin thought about what Lexi had told him when they had first met. How when they had moved to the Gardens they’d had big plans and bright futures, but the city had other ideas for them. Tim would lose a brother. Lexi would find out that she couldn’t have children. Tim would later join the Gardens PD and he’d have a new mission, a sudden drive to clean up the streets. But that drive would turn into an obsession. It probably cost him his life.
Berlin knew now that that mission must have been the driving force behind the distance that grew between the two of them. Like a giant wedge. A cancer taking root and spreading, affecting every thing and every one around it.
He wondered how things could go so wrong for one couple? But he knew that it was possible. It mirrored his own life.
“You still there?” Mitchell asked.
“Yeah, I’m here,” Berlin said. “Just thinking.”
“How’d you make out? You didn’t tear those patrolmen a new one, did you?”
Berlin smiled. “Nah, they’re fine. But look, I gotta run right now. I’ll fill you in when I get back to HQ.”
“All right, that works. Hey—I got a call from the lieutenant, askin’ about Sully. Apparently he pulled a no-show and they had to get a last minute replacement. Did you end up talkin’ him to the other day?”
“Sully?” Berlin asked, his voice wavering.
You never told him about Sully.
“Uh, yeah, I did. But sorry, I don’t know—” Berlin said, “Listen, I’m driving right now and I shouldn’t be—”
“Right. Talk soon,” Mitchell said, abruptly ending the call.
Berlin smacked an open palm onto the steering wheel. “Dammit, Sully.” He turned the car violently onto Russell Avenue and ducked into the parking lot behind the A
dult Learning Center, the car halting to a stop.
That stupid kid. What has he done now?
Unless…I hope nothing happened with that Pop of his.
No, I’m sure it’s nothing. Just a misunderstanding.
Berlin grabbed his phone and punched in Sully’s phone number. After a few rings, it went to voice mail.
“Sully,” he said into the phone. “It’s Berlin. Hey, they’re looking for ya at the station. Can you check in with them, or me? I know you that said that your dad just had surgery, but we just need you to check in ASAP. Thanks.”
First Lexi. Now Sully.
This is starting to get out of hand.
***
After receiving the unit number for Ms. Raquel Willis from dispatch, Berlin was parked in front of the light green two-story residence with a pitched roof. A concrete slab walkway led to the light blue door on the right-hand side of the property. The door led to a sunroom that encompassed the front of the house. The house was desperately in need of a new paint job, the paint chipping away in some spots revealing a lighter cool shade of yellow underneath. There wasn’t an ounce of grass to be found, the front area had been converted to an impromptu garden with a mulch covering. A long driveway ran down the left-hand side. It was gravel with a strip of grass and weeds that formed a line down the center.
Berlin was looking down the driveway now as he stood on the sidewalk. Near the back, in front of the garage, sat a red GMC 1500 pick-up truck on a jack. It was missing a tire, but showed no sign of having been worked on recently.
“Can I help you?” a voice called.
Berlin snapped his head to the sound. A woman stood in front of the blue door, holding a cigarette. She looked unhealthy. But it wasn’t from lack of sleep or anything like that. No, this was from something else. Wearing a thin-strapped pink tank top, with a string falling off one shoulder, she eyed him suspiciously.
“Hello, I’m Detective Berlin with Gardens PD,” he said, coming around to the walkway leading to the house. “I was hoping to speak to Raquel Willis. I’m told that she lives here.”
“Yeah? Let me see some ID,” the woman said, tapping her cigarette into the garden below the staircase.
“Sure.” Berlin fished his ID badge out of his pocket and showed it to her. She gave a small nod that let him know that he could put it away.
“What’s this about?” she asked.
“I just need to verify some information with her,” Berlin told her.
The woman eyed the street. “She in any trouble?”
“No, not at all. Is she here?”
The woman craned her neck, a scowl taking shape on her face. “Haven’t seen her.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Yesterday.”
“Around what time was that?”
“I dunno. It was late. She was headin’ out. Musta took off around nine or so…yeah, that sounds about right. My show was comin’ on, I never miss my show.”
Berlin nodded. “Was she meeting someone?”
“Probably.”
“Do you know if she’s been seeing someone?”
The woman laughed, revealing a couple of missing teeth, her remaining teeth browning in color. He was right. She certainly was in poor health. He suspected that she was probably a meth addict.
“She sees a lot of people, Officer,” she said. “So that would depend on who you’re looking for.”
“It’s Detective.”
“Whatever.”
“How about a guy named Simmons?”
The woman’s face took on a slightly different appearance. Berlin sensed that there was a flinch, followed by unease and alarm.
“Yeah, she sees him,” the woman told him.
“Does Raquel like to hang out anywhere? I really need to track her down.”
The woman mulled it over. “You can probably find her down at the coffee shop on Welland.”
Berlin knew it well. It attracted a wide variety of interesting characters, to say the least. A nice Polish woman also ran a Chip Truck down there, serving some of the best chips in town. And if you wanted a sausage to die for, it was the place to be. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten anything in the past few hours. “If you see her, can you give this to her?” Berlin handed the woman his card. “Tell her to get in touch with me as soon as she’s able.”
The woman stepped down from the stoop, reaching out, and took the card from him. Berlin imagined that it was the hardest thing that she would have to do all day. Unless you consider weighing life choices hard for a woman like her.
CHAPTER 36
Berlin tried Sully a second time, but there was still no answer. It troubled him. Had it been a mistake to get him involved? Should he have heeded the warning about Lexi?
You’re endangering them, a voice inside his head told him.
What will you do if something happens to them? Do you want that? Do you want another body on your conscience?
Your closet is full. You don’t need any more skeletons.
He moved the gravel with his foot. It used to be a gas station once. Now it was an empty void left to fend for itself. The coffee shop stood next door, the two lots connecting. Berlin counted at least twenty individuals of all shapes and sizes, talking amongst themselves in different groups. They leaned on motorcycles, chitchatted out of car windows, and sat on curbs. Berlin moved between the groups, talking with people here and there, trying to ascertain Raquel’s whereabouts. Most knew her, but said that they hadn’t seen her recently. Berlin was about to give up when he asked a woman, pushing a stroller with two little ones inside, about it.
“Excuse me, might I have a word?” he asked her.
The young female stopped, a plain look on her face. “Yeah, what about? You a cop?”
“I am. I only need a minute of your time.”
The woman surveyed the lot, then the street, contemplating her choice. “Fine. Whatever.”
Berlin took notice of the two little ones inside the stroller, a boy and a girl. They both slept peacefully. “Cute kids.”
“I haven’t got all day, Mister.”
“Detective,” Berlin told her.
“Whatever,” she said, looking off at the street again.
She wore tight-fitted blue jeans, which showcased the thinnest pair of legs that Berlin had ever seen. A dark brown tank top hung off of her, more than two sizes too big for her. Her long blonde hair reached the middle of her back and looked like it hadn’t been washed in a few days. She carried with her a large brown satchel bag and two different shopping bags.
“So, you gonna say somethin’ or ya just gonna stare at me?” the woman demanded.
Berlin frowned. “I’m looking for someone.”
“They missing?” She put a hand on her waist, tilting her body, expressing how much she cared.
“I’d like to speak with her.”
“Her?”
“Raquel Willis.”
The woman smiled. “Raquel? Yeah, I know her.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“She was here this morning.” The woman cast a look over her shoulder at the nearby coffee shop. “I saw her goin’ through the drive-thru.”
“Was she with anyone?”
“Yeah. The cop. You’d know him, I’m sure.”
“Got a name for me?”
She nodded, and then sucked at a straw in a cup that she must have pulled from the top of the stroller. It was beige in color, so he assumed it was an iced coffee from the shop. She slurped again, before finally saying, “Simmons.”
“Simmons.”
“That’s right,” she said. “They do somethin’ wrong?”
Interesting question to ask.
“I’m curious, why would you assume that they did something wrong? Simmons is a police officer just like myself, why would—”
The woman let the plastic cup fall back into the stroller. “Forget it. Look, we done here?”
Berlin
blocked her path. “Just another minute. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Does she hang with Simmons a lot? Are they like, an item?”
She smiled again, her head tilting down, giving him a look. “Off and on, like everybody else.”
“Known to spend the night?”
Her eyes grew wide. “How would I know? I imagine so. I dunno. You sure ask weird questions, Mister. Can I go now?”
Berlin nodded and stepped to the side. “Of course. Thank you for your time.”
The woman began to push the stroller back across the lot, but, as Berlin watched the two sleeping babies, he called her back.
“Hold up.”
She sighed and looked back at him. “What now?”
“Here, take this,” he said, handing over a twenty dollar bill. “For the little ones.”
She took it with ease, stuffing it into her jean pocket. “Thanks.”
It went no further than that, which saddened him. He hoped that she would use it for the right things, but, somehow, he knew deep down that it would just become another score to her.
***
Berlin sat down at his desk at Headquarters and felt the irritation in his eyes immediately. He imagined the red blood vessels, spreading like a virus, quickly overtaking the white.
Red versus white.
Mitchell dropped a cup of coffee on Berlin’s desk. “You okay?”
“What?” Berlin rubbed at his eyes. He blinked a few times, washing away the blurred images. “Yeah, I’m good. Just tired is all.”
“You sleepin’ all right?”
Berlin called to mind the dream about Kate while he was in the bathtub. It had been so long since he had seen her, it almost felt real. But then he remembered how he got there, the booze, and decided to leave it in the past. No sense in getting Mitch riled up. “I suppose,” he said. “You hear from Sully yet?”
“Nah. I don’t know what’s goin’ on. Kinda unlike him.”
“Anyone call the father?”
“Yeah. He hasn’t heard from him, either.”
Damn it.
Eyes of the Dead: A Crime and Suspense Thriller (The Gardens Book 1) Page 19