Just Cause

by Carolyn Arnold

  “Well, now you can tie him back to the Russians at least.”

  “I can’t believe his watch was still kicking around after all this time.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “So Calin, was he acting on their behalf, or was he merely interference they needed to deal with?” Madison voiced the question, although rhetorical—it was one she had given a lot of thought to over the years. She believed that the defense attorney had made plans of his own, but the Russians found out and sought their revenge. She still wondered if, and how, Mason Freeman figured into all of this. He owned a company called Knockturnl but he ended up marrying Bryan Lexan’s fiancée. Knockturnl also used the same stationery found by Lexan’s body.

  “How did you tie the initials back to him?” Madison asked.

  “Because of you. Your notes on the Lexan case were comprehensive. You had mentioned Calin in reference to the Russians. So when I did a database search on the initials JC I used that information.”

  “You’re brilliant.” Any recollections, or throbbing pain, were muted.

  “We make a terrific team.”

  “And Terry, did you tell him?” Madison asked.

  “I’ll have to, but I haven’t yet. His job is to hold those men responsible for what they did to you. Anything else that is found in that room would be additional charges, outside of his main focal point right now.”

  Madison experienced the familiar pang of hunger, but its source wasn’t physical, it was for redemption. She dismissed the darkness of her determination and said, “Terry has always been single-minded.”

  Cynthia laughed and shook her head. “He’s not that bad and you know it.”

  “Do I?” Madison laughed. “Just kidding. Were you able to find anything else that can put Calin in the vicinity of the room and not just his watch? His watch could have made it there without him.”

  “I don’t think so. My guess is that Calin was taken to the torture room.”

  “But the proof?”

  Cynthia shook her head. “Not yet, but keep in mind, this was over—what?—five years ago. I don’t think they’ve stopped their torture habits, and they’re good at cleaning house. All we can get from the stains on the floor is blood type, no DNA.”

  Cynthia kept talking, but Madison’s thoughts shuttled her to the past.

  The door was opened. I was shoved in. They turned on the light…and I saw it. The chair, its restraints, the neck latch…

  Her legs buckled.

  “Maddy?” Cynthia rushed to help her regain her balance. She held onto Madison with one hand and reached for the rolling task chair with the other. “Here, take a seat.” She dropped Madison into it.

  Madison’s heart palpitated and she felt light headed.

  “You’re going to have to—”

  “I know, start taking care of myself. So everyone tells me.” Madison massaged her forehead and went to get up. She met with Cynthia’s hands on her shoulders, holding her down.

  “Stay right where you are.”

  “I’m not an invalid.”

  Cynthia crossed her arms. “You almost fainted.”

  “I didn’t almost—”

  Cynthia cocked her head.

  “Fine.” She hated feeling like this, helpless and unable to perform her job the way she knew she had to. All she wanted to do was storm downstairs and confront the Russians about James Calin. It was one step closer to getting answers about the lawyer as well. She summarized what she knew already. “Calin pretty much just disappeared. His body was never found.”

  “Well, I’ve opened up a search for any victims that would come close to his description.”

  “Terrific.” Madison held back the fact she already had an open search in place for this. Calin had no living relatives and all efforts to find him had led to a dead end.

  By the way Cynthia looked on her, Madison sensed she took her silence as a weakness, a residual from almost fainting, from having been through so much.

  “Between us, Cyn, I’m a little off my A-game.” She raised a pointed finger at her friend. “But you tell anyone and I’ll—”

  “Yeah, I know, you’ll kill me. Maybe we should go out and get drunk.” A listless smile lifted Cynthia’s mouth.

  Madison wasn’t a huge drinker, but it might not be a bad idea.

  -

  Chapter 23

  MADISON LEFT THE LAB AND fine-tuned the search parameters she had set up for James Calin. She limited it to the three-month period before and after the lawyer was killed.

  She thought about the evidence collection as she waited for her computer. Homeland Logistics was still a secured crime scene and it would likely be days before its release.

  Her desk phone rang.

  “I have someone here to see you about a liquor license.” It was Officer Ranson from the front.

  “Knight, in my office now.” Sergeant Winston came up behind her, snapping his fingers and disregarding the fact that she held a phone to her ear.

  “I’ve gotta go.”

  “I heard. Don’t worry about it, I’ll get someone else.”

  Madison hung up actually thankful to be called into the sergeant’s office.

  “What’s up?” she asked the question before she cleared the doorway. She noticed Chief McAlexandar and instinctively withdrew.

  “Close the door,” Winston directed her.

  She jacked a thumb behind her. “There’s someone here needing to get a background and prints done for a license.”

  “Someone else will handle it.”

  Winston’s eyes held a conversation. Since when was she volunteering to take care of her ‘desk-riding duty’ and there would be no way out of this one—whatever this one referred to yet, she didn’t know.

  “Sit.” He gestured to the chair.

  She shut the door and took the chair beside the chief, but not before moving it a few extra inches farther away from him.

  McAlexandar slapped the Stiles Times on Winston’s desk.

  “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

  Her shoulders sagged. This man exasperated her. The entire situation did. She wanted it behind her—now.

  “Have you seen the article yet?”

  She shook her head. She had intentionally been avoiding it.

  “Well, it seems King made you out to be a hero,” Winston said.

  She looked from him to a flushed McAlexandar. “A hero?”

  “Yeah, Knight, it seems the city has a savior, and that’s you.” McAlexandar snorted out a laugh. “Ridiculous. What the hell is this city coming to?”

  “Read the article.” Winston extended the paper across the desk to her.

  With heart racing, she picked it up and read the title.

  Just Cause Has Stiles PD Breaking All the Rules

  Her heart stalled and she pinched her eyes shut.

  “Go on. It gets much better.”

  She detected the faint glimmer of a smile on Winston’s lips while McAlexandar sat stiffly.

  She scanned the article, picking up on random words and phrases.

  …for her own purpose, to bring resolution to a forgotten case, she needed to find justice, she was willing to sacrifice her own life in exchange.

  She read the last paragraph in full.

  It can be concluded that the city has a gem in Detective Knight, who isn’t a stranger to the pages of the Stiles Times. But her courage and determination has her pursuing justice, even when most would have turned their backs on it. The events that led her into the Russians’ business front were substantiated. It can be summed up in two words: Just Cause.

  She swallowed heavily as she put the paper back on Winston’s desk. She felt the burning stare on her profile from McAlexandar but didn’t turn to acknowledge him.

  “How d
oes that feel?” Winston asked.

  It left her speechless, except for one concern. “He mentioned me by name.”

  “That he did, and it’s too late to retract it now.”

  Madison put a hand to her forehead. Suddenly she wasn’t feeling well. As if on cue, her cell rang. The caller ID showed it was her sister, Chelsea. She routed the call to voice mail.

  Winston continued. “We’re pleased that King spun things in the favor of Stiles PD. It was pretty risky in that interview room, wasn’t it, but we’re not going to beat a dead horse. Listen, we need your help.”

  She sensed McAlexandar growl beside her.

  “You need my help?”

  “Don’t make us beg for it, because it won’t happen. You’re still going to have to see a shrink, but we want you actively pursuing this case.”

  “This case?”

  “Do you believe you can fire a gun?” Winston gestured to her sprained wrist. “You can fire a gun?”

  Her strong hand was her right. “Yes.”

  “The murdered lawyer case. That’s if you’re still interested.”

  McAlexandar turned to her, and she to him.

  “I have full clearance to pursue this? Reinstated to full duty?”

  “Don’t make me say it twice.”

  “What about clearance from a doctor?” She had thought about this when he mentioned the shrink but was initially going to let it pass.

  “It’s been taken care of.” Winston’s eyes shifted briefly to McAlexandar. “Along with the IA investigation. It’s been closed, permanently.”

  Madison followed his line of sight. The chief sat with his hands clasped in his lap. He didn’t acknowledge either one of them.

  She was loving this. The irony of having a man who hated her being responsible for the green flag amused her. If the chief had a choice, he would rather fast track her to the unemployment line. And if her suspicions were correct about the chief being tied to the Russians somehow, this situation would upset him.

  She addressed the sergeant. “What about the shrink?”

  “Not an option. You’ll still go.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine? We’re rushing you to full duty and we get fine? Unbelievable.” The chief wagged his finger at her.

  “Don’t make it sound like it was your choosing.”

  McAlexandar rolled his eyes. “You have no respect.”

  She had a lot she’d like to say in response to that, like, respect has to be earned for one, but this time she kept quiet.

  Winston leaned back in his chair. “There is one condition, though, seeing as you’ll be participating in the active investigation.”

  She noted the word active, and, in reference to the lawyer, it made her experience victory. He was finally going to get the justice he deserved, and she was going to be the one to bring it to him. She was so elated from being given the case, she almost missed the negative side. “One condition?”

  “You are to clear every step by me. Do you understand? You’ve never been any good at communication.”

  The urge to come to her own defense bottled up in her chest, but she mentally forced it back down. “I can do that.”

  “You will do that if you want to keep the case.”

  She nodded.

  “Detective Grant will accompany you wherever you go. He doesn’t go, neither do you. Something isn’t cleared with me, you don’t go.”

  The elation that came with everything he told her, had her feeling as if the chains that had been bound around her had been removed, yet they’d been replaced by rope. But still, the pressure eased up. She could breathe.

  “Do you understand, Knight?”

  She smiled. “Absolutely.”

  “Now get your ass out of my office and get some real work done.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  She was sure to bump McAlexandar’s shoulder on the way by. While this meeting would have caused him to swallow his pride, it bolstered hers. She would finally see resolution for the dead lawyer, and possibly even set the past right.

  MADISON CAME UP BEHIND TERRY at his desk.

  “I’m back.”

  “So I hear.” He kept his eyes on his monitor.

  She stood beside him and looked at his profile. “Terry, aren’t you happy?”

  “Of course.”

  “You don’t seem—”

  He matched eyes with her and she could see bitterness lingering in his irises. “You almost died.”

  “We’ve been through this. I didn’t.”

  “You need to take the time to rest and heal. Deal with this.”

  “You’re pissing me off, you know that?”

  He ignored her.

  “Terry, did you—”

  “Yes, I heard you.” He pushed out from the desk. His hand rubbed the back of his neck the way he always did when he wished for more answers than he had.

  “What is your problem anyway?” she asked.

  “You. Plain and simple.”

  There was a spark of animosity in his eyes and it stabbed at her heart. “Terry?”

  “Well, you run off to God knows where. You don’t call me for backup. Hell, I would have gone with you.”

  She laughed.

  His lips sat in a flat line.

  “You would have gone with me? You’ve been wanting me to let go of this case for a long time. You say that sometimes you don’t get all the answers. You say—”

  “Listen, if I’m such a bad partner, maybe you should get a new one.”

  He walked away and left her experiencing an empty feeling. Her eyes misted and she had to swallow the lump that formed in her throat. She wasn’t used to this emotion and she didn’t like it.

  She thought of Sovereign and Blake—both, men she used to care for, even love. Now, they had turned their back on her when she needed them the most—and people wondered why she had an issue with men.

  Her cell rang and it showed Chelsea again. Might as well get it over with.

  “Maddy, Mom is flipping out.”

  “I don’t have time for this.”

  “Make time. She called this morning, all upset. I’m surprised she hasn’t called you, but you know how she is sometimes.”

  Why was her mother even reading the Stiles Times? Didn’t the papers in Florida offer enough entertainment? Madison glanced at the clock. A few hours from now she would be at the preliminary trial, giving her testimony as the prosecution’s star witness.

  “I really need to go.”

  “Stop right there. Don’t you hang up—” She paused as if trying to ascertain whether Madison remained on the line. “Why, Madison? Why would you do something so stupid?”

  “It’s all right. I’m okay. Everything is fine.”

  “Everything is fine?” The emphasis put on her statement had Madison picturing Chelsea crossing her arms and letting out a huff. “You think that you’re a superhero? Those movies are quite popular right now. Jim and the girls love ’em, but trust me when I say you do not possess special powers. You are mortal.” The last word cracked as it came out.

  On the count of three, pull the trigger.

  “I’m fine.”

  “So you keep saying, but what about us? What if we lost you? Did you think about that? The paper made it sound like you went in there on a solo mission. What did you do?”

  Madison passed another glance at the clock. How was it, at her age, others had the ability to instill shame or guilt? She shouldn’t feel the need to defend her position. She’d acted. Everything worked out in the end.

  “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I need you to.”

  “Come on, Chelsea, I’m fine.” She noticed the word fine slipped off her lips again. She had to get off the line before she said that placating word one more time. �
��I’ll call you later.”

  “If you don’t, I’ll be call—”

  “Love you.” Madison cut her sister off and hung up the phone. She couldn’t afford to let emotions into the picture and run the show. She had to be in control, and now more than ever. This afternoon she would watch these two evil men plead their innocence in court, but first she had to talk about her feelings with a stranger.

  -

  Chapter 24

  THE PSYCHIATRIST’S OFFICE WAS LOCATED downtown, on the fifth floor of a multi-use building. As Madison took the elevator, she knew she had to shake the thoughts about Terry’s attitude toward her and get on with the case. She needed this doctor to sign her form and give her a pass—the sooner, the better.

  McAlexandar had expedited the process with a physical doctor, yet she still had to go through the motions with the shrink. She would likely have to face an egotistical male who would tell her that she had anger management issues and a problem with authority figures. He would pin the blame on her upbringing, and her parents—after all, isn’t that how this industry worked? Talk out your feelings, let it all out, and when you’re finished you’ll feel better, but your relationships will be destroyed.

  Madison opened the door and entered a reception area that had ten chairs set out around the perimeter of the room. The color palette consisted of soothing shades of greens, yellows, and oranges. Somehow the designer had managed to combine them and make it esthetically pleasing.

  She reported in at the reception desk.

  The woman repeated Madison’s name. “You’re here to see Dr. Connor?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’ll be with you in a moment.”

  She? Did she just say...

  Madison grabbed a business card from the holder and found a chair. Three doctors worked out of this office. It didn’t take her long to find Connor—Tabitha Connor, Ph.D.

  Shit! The he Madison had conjured in her mind was a she.

  That was a worse scenario than facing a man with her innermost emotions. Women had the natural ability to see beyond words, they felt them.

  Not long after sitting down, Madison was called in.

  Connor’s office followed the theme of the reception area, utilizing soft tones. Her walls were taupe, but artwork, throw pillows, and furniture complimented it with color. There were walls of bookshelves filled with journals and collectible pieces. There was a chaise lounge, couch, and an egg-shaped sofa chair. The back of it was to Madison.