Intrusions

by Barbara Winkes

  “Thank you. If you can think of anything else, please don’t hesitate to give us a call.”

  “Why do you think she knows something?” Maria asked later when they were on their way back to the department.

  “Because she’s in the best position to overhear things. She heard us mention Paulson to Linwood, and I swear she was more startled than he was. Let’s drive by her apartment once more.”

  * * * *

  Half an hour later, Jordan was back at the station, standing in front of the board that detailed the facts of the murders, Gerald Ashcroft and Sandra Paulson.

  Her hunches hadn’t paid off as well as she’d hoped, but something different had come up. While the landlord had never seen Sandra with Linwood, she confirmed that Abigail Ashcroft had been in the apartment more than once.

  Where was the connection? Sandra had been fired from D’Amour Inc. which was Abigail’s competition in her latest venture, also connected to a firm owned by Linwood.

  It looked like those siblings had spent a lifetime of conspiring against one another.

  Given her own history, Jordan thought she had to be grateful for being an only child. Why had Abby been there if she and Linwood weren’t talking? Abby didn’t seem to share her younger brother’s homophobic tendencies—at least—and it had been due to Craig’s machinations that she was able to launch the business in the first place.

  She stared at the picture of Sandra Paulson, willing the woman to give up her secrets. She was somehow the connection, Linwood, Aleja, Ashcroft senior…but she couldn’t talk.

  When her cell phone rang, Jordan was fairly thrilled to realize it was Linwood’s secretary on the other end. Talk about hunches.

  “I can’t talk here. Can you meet me after my shift? I get off work at 5:30.”

  “Yes, of course. Is Mr. Ashcroft still in?”

  “He left for a few minutes. Look, I don’t even know if this is important, but I know that he signed off on the checks for Ms. Paulson. She was often in his office, sometimes more than an hour, and he would have me hold all the calls. I don’t know what they were talking about, but—nothing, sir, just a wrong number.” Jordan realized that Linwood must have arrived at this moment.

  The call ended abruptly.

  “It’s not enough yet,” she said to herself. “But we’re getting there.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  For a moment, Ellie thought she had imagined Rhonda standing next to her car in the parking lot. She tugged at a strand of hair self-consciously, once more reminded of not so smart decisions, and hoped Rhonda wasn’t going to insist on that coffee. She and Jordan had enough on their plate in general, and with one persistent ex in particular.

  Ellie was beyond relieved that Jordan’s current cases didn’t require any involvement from FBI psychiatrist Dr. Bethany Roberts. Ellie had a somewhat odd relationship with her. She admired her skills. However, she got a bit uncertain around her, and she didn’t like her to be around Jordan, not more than absolutely necessary.

  “Hey. Can I help you?”

  “Yeah. I was going to call, but then I was pretty much just around the corner, so I decided to come by. You guys are still looking for Raphael?”

  “Yes, of course. You know where he is?”

  “Well, not exactly, but he asked me to meet him in a coffee shop downtown. I said yes. That’s good, right? I can be there? Be the bait?”

  “No, it doesn’t work like that. I’ll check in with Detective Rogers. He might have some questions for you. You can come with me.”

  Rhonda pouted. “There I thought I was getting a wire and trick him into telling me something…”

  “No. Definitely no wire and tricks. Do you know if he has a gun?”

  Rhonda shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  Yeah, that’s helpful.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be safe.”

  “You know, that’s kinda sexy, you taking charge like this,” Rhonda said wistfully. “Sometimes I don’t know why we ever broke up.”

  Ellie decided she didn’t need to answer that.

  Rogers wasn’t in, but a younger detective by the name of Hargrove.

  “Thank you for coming in,” he told Rhonda. “We’ll take it from here.”

  The pout was something very familiar to Ellie.

  “Are you saying you don’t need me for this? To distract him or something?”

  Ellie winced, but Hargrove didn’t seem fazed by Rhonda’s disappointment.

  “No, that won’t be necessary. Again, thank you Ms. Marks.”

  “Bye,” Ellie said pointedly, and Rhonda finally shrugged and walked out.

  “All right, this is what we’ll do. You and McCarthy will come in from the back in case he tries something. We’ll bring him in, hopefully get some answers.”

  Ellie nodded. She knew the café which was basically one long rectangular room, the counter stretching almost along one entire wall, the entrance in the front, a second door in the back.

  The drive took less than ten minutes.

  He was already sitting in the café, nervously checking his cell phone.

  Ellie could tell Kate was almost as excited as Rhonda had been about the turn of events.

  “Maybe this is it. Maybe we can find her today.”

  Yes, sometimes these cases worked out against all odds.

  “Let’s hope so,” Ellie said as she opened the back door. Inside the café, Hargrove was talking to the woman behind the counter, then turned and walked up to the corner where the man in question was sitting.

  Raphael Deane jumped to his feet and ran before he had even seen Kate and Ellie. He pushed a barista so she stumbled and all but showered Hargrove in latte and espresso. Ellie chased after him.

  “Raphael Deane? Stop! We just have a few questions for you!”

  His reaction was to run faster, down the block and into an alley. Ellie was able to tackle him near inches before he would have crashed into a fence.

  “I didn’t do anything,” he claimed. “You have no right!”

  “Then why did you run?”

  “That’s always the way with you,” Deane seethed. “You never want the truth, or explanations. You already made up your mind.”

  “Well, try me. Let’s go downtown and have that conversation.”

  She wondered, however, if his cryptic words had to do with the missing woman. Ellie wanted to know, but she was also aware it wasn’t her place.

  Hargrove arrived shortly after.

  “Whatever it is you think I’ve done, I’m innocent,” Dean claimed.

  “You’re guilty of racking up my bill for the dry cleaners,” Hargrove said. “For starters. Good job, Officer Harding.”

  “Thanks.” Ellie nodded as she brushed the dirt of her uniform.

  She got back to the car in time to hear the 911 call come through, from a familiar location, from a pregnant woman, alone and in distress.

  Darla’s baby was early.

  * * * *

  “Could you please go? I’m tied up here. Please let me know if there’s any news. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Jordan would apologize later, as usual, she thought, tossing her phone onto the dashboard with more vehemence than necessary. She had promised Darla to be there for her, pay her back for all the times her information had helped tip a case—but when the young woman needed her the most, she was trapped waiting for Linwood’s secretary. She had agreed to meet Jordan outside the building, so they could drive someplace else and talk in private. It was 5:47, and she hadn’t shown up.

  Jordan had tried calling her, but only got the voicemail. Had she been held up upstairs? Changed her mind? Was Linwood on to her?

  She went back into the building, but as she got into the elevator, a security guard stepped out.

  “I’m sorry, Ma’am, you can’t go up there now. There’s no one there.”

  “Mr. Ashcroft has already left?”

  “He’s attending a fundraising dinner tonight.”

  “
And his secretary?”

  There was a hint of impatience in the man’s expression. “Look, I told you there’s no one. If you’ll excuse me now. Unless you have a warrant, I need to ask you to leave.”

  Outside, she tried the cell phone again, and this time, the secretary picked up.

  “I’m sorry, something came up,” she said hastily. “I’d prefer you keep what I said between us. I might have been mistaken about Ms. Paulson.”

  “What? You said she spent hours in this office.”

  And I’m spending a lot of time waiting for you, when I should be somewhere else.

  “Maybe it wasn’t her after all. Mr. Ashcroft sees lots of…women. I’m sorry I bothered you, Detective. Please don’t come to my apartment again.”

  “Okay, I got it. Thank you anyway.”

  Jordan looked up the woman’s address and requested backup before she got on her way.

  * * * *

  Despite Rhonda’s and Detective Hargrove’s appreciation of her “taking charge,” Ellie had listened to some stern words from Sergeant Bristol, clarifying as to who made assignments at the precinct. She knew he had a point, and he had not simply chastised her, but acknowledged that this wasn’t just her doing.

  Ellie knew she had to get back on track, find time to study for the detective’s exam. Now that her living situation was settled for the time being, and the rest of her life was getting there, she had to make that time if she ever wanted to move forward.

  It was hard to concentrate on these questions though, waiting to hear on Darla Pierson. She hoped Jordan would make it here soon—if anything happened to Darla or the baby before she arrived, Ellie knew she would be incredibly hard on herself. The perfect vacation bliss was already fading in her memory. They needed a happy ending once in a while.

  She sat there for another period of time that felt like hours, when the doctor came heading her way.

  “Officer, you were here for Ms. Pierson?”

  “Yes. Can you tell me anything?”

  “Her baby boy was born prematurely. He’ll need to stay with us for a few days, but he’s going to be okay.”

  “What about Ms. Pierson?”

  “She’s fine.”

  Ellie breathed a sigh of relief. “Can I see her?”

  “Only for a short moment.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  The happy ending needed a little more work, Ellie reflected as she took in Darla who looked beyond exhausted and sad.

  “They wouldn’t even let me hold him.” Her voice was slightly slurred with the meds she’d been given. “Can you look at him for me? Please?”

  “Of course. Your baby will be fine. He just needs to grow a little stronger, gain some weight.”

  “Maybe Jordan was right, and this was a terrible idea.” There were tears in Darla’s eyes. “I can’t even do this right. What kind of mother—”

  “You’re going to be great once you’ve had some time to recover. Meanwhile, they’re going to take good care of him here.”

  “Where’s Jordan?” Darla asked.

  Ellie would have liked to know herself. “She couldn’t leave work. She’ll be here as soon as she can. Someone’s going to chase me out sometime soon, but I’ll stay in the waiting room.”

  “Thank you.” Darla gave her a weak smile.

  “It’s no problem. Get some rest, okay?”

  “I agree with that,” the nurse said behind her. “Officer?”

  “Sure. I’m coming.”

  Keeping her promise, she got to take a look at the tiny baby in the incubator. As she stood in front of the window, Ellie had an idea. She quickly took a picture on her cell phone and snuck back into Darla’s room for a moment so she could show her. After asking Darla’s permission, she sent it to Jordan as well in case she couldn’t make it tonight.

  The sight stayed with her, giving her a lot to think about. Ellie couldn’t imagine having a baby at Darla’s age. She could hardly imagine it now, though Jordan’s adoptive mother seemed to harbor some hope that motherhood was in the near future for them. Jordan was reluctant though not completely opposed. At some point, Ellie would have to make up her mind on how she felt about the subject.

  Still no sign of Jordan. She wondered if Kathryn was still here, but decided this time, not to let curiosity get the better of her.

  * * * *

  Derek met her at the secretary’s apartment, and together, they approached the front door. It swung open when Jordan pushed lightly, giving sight to the mess inside, broken glass, a chair toppled over. A quick search revealed that there was no one in the apartment.

  “He lied to us about Paulson, and now his secretary is missing after she wanted to talk to us about this exact subject. That’s enough to crash the party,” Jordan said.

  Derek looked dubious. “I’m not sure your friend Esposito will agree.”

  “There are so many things wrong with this sentence. Come on, let’s get a unit in here. I think you and I have a fundraising event to attend.”

  “Sounds like fun,” he said.

  “Yeah. And he might know about this too.” She held up a piece of wire in a gloved hand. “Someone has a real penchant for using these.”

  * * * *

  “Can I see your invitations, please?” the young blonde woman asked in a pleasant tone, regardless of the fact that they weren’t dressed for the occasion. Well, Derek might have passed, and her eyes were mainly on him anyway.

  “There you go,” Jordan said, placing her badge in front of her. The woman’s eyes went wide.

  “We need to speak to Mr. Ashcroft.”

  She had heard before about the group hosting the event, and it was enough for her not to have much patience with any woman who associated herself with this. This was a group of old boys who wanted to restore society to the “good old times”—good for no one but them.

  “I don’t know…”

  “It’s urgent. Thank you.”

  “Um…okay then. He’s at table #14.” She returned Derek’s smile with an uncertain one of her own.

  “Thanks so much, Cordelia. Wouldn’t hurt you to be a little more polite,” he told Jordan as they walked past the entrance.

  “Did you see what this event is all about? I’m not going to shake anyone. That’s about as polite as I can get. This is the opposite of what Ashcroft worked for.”

  “Well, we know Linwood hangs with a different crowd. And here we are. Mr. Ashcroft, we have to ask you to come with us.”

  “Is this a joke?” Ashcroft’s wife asked. “You have more questions that need answers now? This is important.”

  “A life might be at stake. I believe you would agree that’s more important. Mr. Ashcroft?”

  Realizing that conversation at other tables had stopped, he put a smile on this face before he got to his feet, his tone a clear contradiction to what he wanted to convey to his peers.

  “You’ve gone too far, Detective. I wonder if your workplace has a non-discrimination clause for people like you. I’d be surprised.”

  “Yeah, we can discuss all that later,” Jordan said, unimpressed with his antics. The lieutenant had long been aware of her relationship with Bethany that neither of them had cared to hide. Firing her for being gay would be the last thing on his mind.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jordan hadn’t forgotten the warnings about how to deal with the Ashcroft family, but a life was at stake. Now that she finally had Linwood Ashcroft in an interrogation room, she’d make the most of it.

  “Ms. Ryan wanted to discuss your relationship with Ms. Paulson. When I went to pick her up, she was gone. The guard told me she’d left, later we had another phone call where she directed us to her apartment which has been wrecked. Where is she, Linwood?”

  “You guys are hilarious,” he said. “All of this…my lawyer here will have a field day in court, and you, Detective, can say goodbye to your badge.”

  “Linwood,” his attorney, a mild-mannered man in his late fifties, said. �
��We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it. I don’t believe the detective has an agenda. She’s just doing her job, right?”

  Jordan decided it sounded too condescending to merit an answer, instead she continued.

  “Why did you lie to us about Sandra? You knew her. You signed off on pay checks for her, from a firm she was no longer working for—why is that?”

  “I don’t know what Ms. Ryan told you, but it sounds like she made a lot of stuff up. I was going to let her go soon, maybe she found out. In any case, I’m shocked you’re taking her word over—”

  “There are security tapes that show you and Ms. Paulson. In your firm, and the hotel across the street. Did your wife know about these meetings?”

  “You’re bluffing. What, you want to blackmail me with this story?”

  “Wait a second,” the lawyer now intervened. “Where are those tapes?”

  “What are you getting out of it?” Linwood questioned.

  “What I want to get out of it is to not find another body. We are still going over the tapes. Be assured we’ll inform you if anything else important comes up. Mr. Ashcroft, if you tell us where Ms. Ryan is, we can still do something for you.”

  “How about you let me go, and we forget about this ridiculous idea? She was never that reliable. Maybe she just took off.”

  “And you still employed her for over ten years? That’s curious,” Derek said from where he was leaning against the wall. “What exactly was the nature of your relationship with Sandra Paulson? Why the money?” He shrugged. “You accused Detective Carpenter of bluffing and wanting to blackmail you at the same time. There wouldn’t be much to blackmail you with if it was all a bluff. We can show you those tapes if you want, by the way.”

  “All right, I admit it! Sandra was in a tight spot after Danielle fired her. I wanted to get rid of Health & Life, and I’d been talking to Danielle about it. That’s where I met Sandra, she came to interview here, but things turned out differently, and…I was just helping her out.”

  “So she owed you.”

  “If you want to call it that.”

  “Did she help you frame Aleja Santos? You had to get rid of the witness, that’s it?”