Sergeant Owen handed the detectives the sheet of paper. “I wanted you to have this information before notification was made. A year ago, Jasmine Brooks served time at Braden Women’s Correctional Facility in Milwaukee for intent to distribute marijuana. It shows when she went in but not when she came out.”
Lily studied the profile sheet that displayed a picture of Brooks in the upper right corner. “Why Braden? Serving time there is like getting a slap on the wrist for a felony.”
Sergeant Owen moved around the desk. “That’s what reeks. After that, there’s no more information on Brooks. I can’t even access her file after her release. No parole info, no nothing. The last name Brooks checks out. There’s no Ariel Weeks in the system who served time during the time she did.
“Our male victim is a John Doe.”
“Okay, the Mercedes comes back under Weeks, but her arrest record comes back as Brooks. So she had an alias. But why?” Lily asked flipping over the sheet
“Double life, maybe?” Evan suggested.
Lily held up the photo of her victim from the profile sheet. “Can I use this to show the husband?”
Sarge said. “It’ll have to do. Black out all of the information and see if you can get the husband to positively I.D. her.”
Alec leaned forward and removed his cell phone from its case. “It’s the hospital. Weber. Okay. Thanks.” He hung up and looked at Lily.
Both sides of his cheeks were speckled with flat brown marks trailing toward his lower jaw. It was like looking at a flood map labeled with dots. His shoulders rolled forward as if they were weighed down by his ripped muscles.
Alec scratched the top of his shaved head. “Kyle had a diabetic seizure. The doc said it’ll be a few hours before he can speak to us. I’ll go up there and wait.”
As Alec left the room, Lily caught Jeremiah staring hard at her. She zipped up her jacket, unsure whether she was being self-conscious or upset at him for being nosey.
If only she could be like most expectant mothers excited to reveal their news, then her partner’s words probably wouldn’t irritate her like a swarm of mosquitoes at a summer barbecue.
Sarge went and sat back down behind his desk. “Mills. Go get familiar with your office space, while I talk with these two.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Jeremiah exited, closing the door behind him.
Several seconds passed in silence. Sarge leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the teak desk. “You two work well together. But because both of you still have strong feelings for one another, I believe it’d be best to limit the amount of personal contact between you guys while on duty. We can’t have personal feelings interfering with professional ones. Especially, after what happened during the last case. Being held hostage isn’t an easy thing to get over.
“Lily, I know you’re probably pissed off at me for partnering you up so soon after Morgan’s accident, but I think Mills will be good for you. You’ll have an extra body to help work on this godforsaken case.”
“Good for me? He called me a chick instead of addressing me by my given name.”
“I’m sure you put him in his place.”
“Of course. Morgan not being here has been difficult for me, but I’m moving on.”
“Good. Go make your notification and take Mills with you.”
Lily and Evan stared at each other as they left the room.
A heaviness settled in Lily’s body. She wasn’t sure what to feel; all she knew was that the small sense of security she’d had with Evan constantly nearby was gone. They’d been through so much together, especially during the last three weeks.
Evan gently squeezed Lily’s elbow and winked. “We’ll be okay.”
He had put his life on the line to save Lily and that had brought them closer than they had been in a long time. She’d wanted their relationship to move past ‘what will others think,’ but what was the right time to move on after shooting your husband who tried to kill you?
Chapter 4
After sunset, the Charger pulled into a long driveway leading up to the Weeks home. Located on the north side of Fort, just past the cemetery on Highway 89, sat an Italianate home surrounded by twisted bare trees that had curved to their final resting places some years ago. The hip roof and cornice needed to be restored, but the bay windows made the charming old home appealing.
A maroon Chrysler minivan parked pointed in the direction of the front porch, which was held up by square columns.
Lily shut off the engine. “Let me be the one to tell the husband about his wife.”
“This isn’t my first notification.”
“Your notification precedents don’t get a say. This is my case. I’ll take the responsibility.”
“Yes, boss.”
Idiot. I’m about ready to tell you what you can do with your boss. Lily got out of the Charger and closed the door behind her. What was Jeremiah trying to do? Insert his ‘I’m the new detective let me show you what I can do’ routine?
This was her case. She wasn’t going to let him mess up the interview with the husband.
Soon, Lily and Jeremiah were standing on the porch waiting for someone to answer the doorbell.
A few moments later, a man wearing a camo hoodie and jeans opened the door and stood back, his face ashy, streaked with dried tears.
On the other side of the door, toddler TV shows and giggling from little ones leveled Lily. It was something she’d wanted to hear in her house one day. Especially during birthday parties and holidays. At their age, were they missing their mom? Anxious to tug on her clothes, wanting to be picked up?
Lily lifted her jacket to display her badge. “Mr. Brian Weeks?”
The man nodded and took a sip from his coffee mug. “Come inside.”
Lily and her partner stepped into the overheated home and waited by the entryway of the door as Brian struggled to pull himself together. “Is Ariel going to be okay? Did you find her? What hospital is she in?”
There’s never a right time to tell someone that the love of their life is gone from this earth. Lily handed Brian the photo of Ariel’s mug shot. “Is this your wife?”
“It’s her.”
Lily took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to tell you sir, but your wife has been found dead.”
A wave of tears flooded Brian’s round eyes. He huddled in a corner, trying to keep out of sight of the twin boys sitting on the floor. They were entranced by the orange puppet on the television screen as it recited the alphabet. The boys had dark, tight curly hair and chunky cheeks. They looked to be about five years old and oblivious that their mother wouldn’t be coming home tonight.
Brian’s sobs rose in volume in between breaths.
Lily’s chest ached. Here was a man who had lost his wife and the mother of his children all in the same day. “I know this is hard, but I’ve got to ask you some questions.”
Brian sighed and leaned against the four-paned window. “No. This can’t be true.”
Lily eyed Jeremiah, who went to be with the boys. “I’m afraid it is, sir.” She leaned in closer and whispered. “Can you tell us about what your wife did or said recently? Was there an abrupt change in her routine?”
Brian’s cries turned into whimpers. “Not long ago, my wife went from being a happy woman to someone who was always wound tight. I couldn’t understand why. We had everything we ever wanted. For a while, I thought Ariel was having an affair.”
“Was she?”
“No. She swore to me that it wasn’t an affair. It was work. There was a business deal that wasn’t turning out the way she’d hoped. She showed me a few of the notes and letters. I can’t remember what she called them, but it was then that I understood.”
“What was the business deal?”
Brian shook his head. “All I know is that my wife took on a job as a waitress at a club.”
“Did Ariel tell you what kind of club?”
“No. She didn’t say anything else. Then, Ariel started staying out late
with the people from her job. Especially with a girl named Diamond and her boyfriend, Mikey.”
“Have you ever met them?”
“No. Ariel kept her work and family life separate.”
“If you never met, how do you know it was them?”
“Ariel told me. She said they were with the mob.”
“The mob?”
“Yeah. Like those movies? You know—the mob.”
Lily wrote down some notes. “Do you know where Mikey or Diamond live?”
“No.”
“Do you know their ethnicity?”
“No.”
“Are you willing to part with the letters?”
“Those are private.”
“I know they’re private. We’re just trying to see if there’s something in there that may provide more information. How long were your wife and you married?”
“Almost five years.”
“Had you two been getting along recently?”
A pinched expression settled on Brian’s face. “We were happy.”
As cries erupted from the twins, Jeremiah made cooing noises to calm the little ones.
“It’s dinner time for the boys. Can I give you an answer tomorrow about the letters?”
“Tonight would be better. Each hour we lose gives your wife’s killer an extra hour to get away.” Lily dug into her inside jacket pocket and produced a card. “Here’s my cell number. If you decide to help or need anything, call me. Day or night.”
Brian took the card. “Thanks.” He scooped the twins up in his arms and headed toward the kitchen. “Daddy’s here.”
Lily and Jeremiah made their way out the door, got into their car and backed out of the driveway.
Jeremiah said, “You actually believe in mob stories?”
“You don’t?”
“Well, not really. Maybe in places like Chicago or New York. I’ve never heard of mob stories growing up in Milwaukee. Gangs, yes. I had to fight to stay out of one.”
Lily turned to Jeremiah. “You know why we only heard about those places? Because the mobsters back in the day made those places famous.” She focused her attention back towards the road and steered the Charger back toward the station.
Jeremiah said, “Have we been partners long enough for me to insert my four cents?”
Lily merged onto the bypass. “Sure.”
“Why would our victim hang out with the mob? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Not hanging out with the mob. Friends with people who are in the mob.”
“Still it’s crazy. Looking at this from a guy’s point of view, if I had a wife and I found out she was doing these type of things, I’d have to put my foot down. That’s just inviting danger into a happy home.
“I think he’s still protecting his woman. He’s not telling us everything.”
“I agree. Now we’ll have to start from scratch.” Lily accelerated, positioned the needle at sixty-five and hit the cruise control button. Deep in thought, she ignored most of what her new partner was talking about.
Lily screened the darkness, straining her eyes to watch for deer on the road. Headlights coming toward her dipped in and out sight as the cars came over the hill.
So many questions and not enough answers. Yes, the husband is covering for the woman he loved. As for the brother-in-law, Kyle’s not telling everything he knows. How did he know it was Ariel’s car? There are lights on his side of the river but not on the ones along 106. What did the killer do for lighting when they drove into the river, trying to dump the car?
Did my John Doe, found in the front seat, fight for his life or did this person catch him off guard?
Lily signaled, took the 106 exit and got off the highway.
“This isn’t our exit,” Jeremiah said.
“I know,” Lily said slowing down at the stop sign. “Just need to see something.” In no time she was riding alongside the Rock River. “Look,” she said, pointing out Jeremiah’s window.
“See what? It’s dark.”
“Exactly. With the little light near the pier, it’s hard to make out anything. I don’t believe Kyle saw Ariel.”
Lily continued east, passing the boat launch. She looked over at the apartment building where Kyle lived. It was hard to tell, but she just couldn’t see how the brother-in-law saw anything from his balcony in the dark.
“Mr. Kyle played us.” Jeremiah placed an e-cigarette to his lips.
“Would you put that out?”
“I forgot. It’s not cool to smoke around pregnant women.” He rolled down the window and tossed the e-cigarette out. “I’m trying to quit anyway.”
Lily expelled a breath and made a u-turn. Jeremiah continued to talk, but she ignored him, focusing on where she needed to start in the case.
Less than ten seconds later, Water Street came into view. Lily parked the Charger in front of the two-story police station and tuned herself back into Jeremiah’s ramblings.
“You can bet Ariel spilled her guts in those letters,” he said. “There’s something in there all right. Private or not, why not hand them over if it might help with the case?”
“I’m starting to wonder if Ariel was an informant and was building a case while at Braden,” Lily mused. “She used an alias, ‘Jasmine Brooks.’ She did some time, ended up working at a strip club as a waitress, and now she’s dead? You’re never put in the system only to just be erased. If she were an informant, it’d make sense.
“But before we go any further with this hunch, let’s check the database. See if you can connect Diamond and Mikey to the club.”
“It would make things easier.”
“I’ll call the prison and see if I can find out anything about our victim. If there’s one thing I don’t like to do is wait. However, this case doesn’t have room for oversight. One mistake and I.A. will be all over us.
“We need to find out what our victim was up to during the last months of her life. Our only hope is Kyle. He’s the key in propelling this case forward. Oh, and text Alec and let him know that someone will be on the way to the hospital who knows sign language.”
“You really think Kyle knows something?” Jeremiah was skeptical.
Lily nodded. “I hope Alec can get what it is we need out of him.” She glanced over at the clock on the dash: eight thirteen p.m. “Hauser should be calling us soon for the autopsy. When he does, we’ll head over to the medical examiners building.”
“I like how you think, Sho—I mean, Lily.”
Lily got out of the car and slammed the door.
Jeremiah caught up to her. “My bad, I’m learning. The last thing I want to do is set you off. Working with all these men, you must have a stash of estrogen that you’d unleash if one of them got on your bad side.”
My God. I could strangle this guy. “Does any of the stuff you say register in your head before it comes out of your mouth?”
“I never thought about it.”
“You should start thinking about it. You sound like a male chauvinist.”
“I’m definitely not one of those.”
“Good. Cause I hate bad cops. The only thing worse is male chauvinists. I detest them.”
After they arrived at their cubicle, both detectives got to work.
All around them, people tapped on keyboards as space heaters rattled underneath desks to keep the room warm. The room hummed like a busy hive.
As Lily sorted through the stack of paperwork and returned the necessary documents back to their files, a photo fell and landed on her desk.
She glanced down at the glossy image, and her heart skipped a beat as she focused on the picture taken the day before her wedding—months ago. Staring back at Lily, with his bearded chin dark against his pale face, was Julius, the tyrant who’d taken the coward’s way out instead facing a jury of his peers to answer for his crimes.
Out of the corner of her eye, Lily felt Jeremiah’s eyes watching her.
Jeremiah said, “Old memories?”
She sna
tched up the picture, crumpled it in her hand and tossed it into the wastebasket. “More like dead ones.”
Lily woke up her computer and did a quick search for Braden Women’s Correctional Facility. She dialed out, skipped past the automated message and waited for the toneless voice on the other end to identify herself.
“Superintendent Young.”
“I’m Detective Blanchette over at the Fort Atkinson Police Department, and I wanted to see if you could provide some information about an inmate who served time at your facility about a year ago.”
“What’s the name?”
“Jasmine Brooks?”
Light wheezing on the other end broke up the silence lingering over the phone. Lily wrote the word Christmas in block letters on a scratch pad as she waited.
The superintendent cleared her throat. “Verify the inmate’s date of birth.”
Lily opened the case file and zeroed in on the profile sheet. “8/23/82.”
There was some clicking. Then a beep.
“That file’s locked.”
“You can’t access your own records of former prisoners?”
“Look, ma’am, the file’s locked and there’s nothing else I can do.”
“Do you remember anything about the inmate?”
“I just started here in January. But her facility social worker might be able to tell you something.”
“May I have the social worker’s name?”
“If I can find it. Let me check another place.”
Lily heard a soft click on the other line and wasn’t sure if the superintendent had hung up. She looked over at the miniature Christmas tree with fiber optic lighting sitting on the corner of her desk. I don’t want anything for Christmas except a family gathering and Evan. After a few minutes had passed, Lily heard the line pick up.
“Detective?”
“I’m here.”
The superintendent cleared her throat again. “During intake, each inmate is assessed, evaluated and assigned a custody classification. The assessments are included in the prisoners’ electronic file, and we file a separate hard copy of the assessments for data reasons.
“I did find Jasmine Brooks’ assessment. D.O.C. #20490.”
Her Final Watch (A Detective Blanchette Mystery Book 2) Page 3