Just Cause

by Carolyn Arnold

  “Wait,” Mark called out.

  Everyone looked at him. Being the younger person in the lab, he was usually more reserved. “This is more than just a metal detector.” A sly smile. “I should have told you, I guess.”

  Madison glanced at Cynthia, who was smiling.

  “It allows us to get imagery of what is beneath the ground as well.”

  All of them went over to where Mark was.

  “Here.” Mark pointed to the screen when they were all close enough to see.

  The outline of a body was curled beneath them.

  “You are a genius!” Madison slapped him on the back and Mark momentarily lost his balance.

  “Thank,” he righted himself before falling, “you.”

  “How far down is he?” Terry asked.

  Mark pointed to a reading. “Says it’s only five feet.”

  Madison pulled out her cell phone and called Richards in. There was work to do.

  -

  Chapter 47

  THEY SCOURED THE SCENE FOR HOURS, and as the sun lowered in the sky, lights were brought in to illuminate the ravine. In all, four bodies were found. While Madison had anticipated more, she figured the Russians likely had several dump locations, possibly more, just like this one.

  Bullets were found with each set of remains, but it still had to be determined if this was the cause of death.

  “These are not hollow-point bullets,” Cynthia said. “If they were they’d be flowered, the metal would be bent back to resemble petals.”

  “So they were shot with different bullets than Lexan?” Madison had expected some evidence to align and so far it wasn’t.

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

  “You’ve got to be shit—”

  “How does this surprise you?” Terry came up beside her. “I mean, really? You thought that they would match?”

  Cynthia dismissed Terry’s mocking inquiry and carried on with her own line of thought. “It could be a match to the one pulled from Douglas’s maid. It is the right caliber. All bullets and fragments will be compared for land and groove impressions.”

  “So, you think they’re hanging onto a gun from five years ago?” Terry asked, in disbelief.

  “Why not? It’s possible. They believe themselves to be untouchable,” Madison said.

  “Like I said, further analysis needs to be done before the bullets can be tied to a specific weapon.”

  “All right. Well, get it all processed. I want anything you can give me to nail this bastard.” Madison bobbed her head toward a clearing. “Terry, can we talk?”

  “We are talking.” He didn’t move.

  Madison glanced at Cynthia, who excused herself.

  “What is your problem?”

  Terry’s jaw tightened. “Those men who testified that you went in with your gun drawn.”

  She was aware of, and counted, the five blinks she did before speaking. “Yes.”

  “Well, their records are clean. Not so much as a parking ticket. Both of them are family men, Maddy. Why would they lie? I want to believe you. I’m on your side, but—”

  “You’re on my side, but you’re accusing me of going in there with my gun drawn looking for a confrontation.”

  “I never said that you went in firing rounds.”

  The pulse of adrenaline reverberated through her head. “You know that part isn’t true because you have the forensic evidence to back it up.”

  Terry ran a hand down his face and wrapped it around to rub the back of his neck.

  “Listen, you said they’re family men. Isn’t that enough right there? They have something to lose—their loved ones. And if Dimitre levels a lawsuit against me, that fear is still alive and well.”

  “Not assuming. He will. He wants to appear innocent.”

  “Too late for that.”

  “Is it? The guy gets away with everything.”

  “Not everything. He is behind bars.”

  “Yeah, for one measly murder. He’ll walk out. He won’t die behind bars and you know it.”

  “He will if I have anything to do with it.”

  Terry waved a hand. “I just wanted to tell you about the men so you have a heads-up.”

  The fact that he seemed to doubt her innocence gnawed on her. She had to let that aspect go and focus on what she could control. “We know that Douglas, his maid, and his lover all died because of this site.” She gestured to take in the area. It was alive with activity. Every qualified technician was pulled in to help out. There was too much ground to cover and too little time. “And I’m sure we’ll be able tie this back to Dimitre. The fact Douglas became a victim will only add credibility.”

  Terry got her attention. “So we have—say—ten victims. Lexan, Sergey, Anatolli, four pulled from this ravine, Douglas, his maid, and his lover. There are various MOs here too. We have different bullet types, a sniper’s shot, a broken neck, and a stabbing. Neither man from the warehouse shows any sniper training in their background.”

  “Dimitre has a lot under his employ. Maybe we’re looking for more than one someone.”

  “I’m thinking that maybe one of these family men are not so innocent, maybe both of them.”

  Madison and Terry turned when Richards and his assistant loaded one of the bodies onto a stretcher. She didn’t envy them the trip up the hill.

  “There’s more.”

  She looked at Terry.

  “I did more of a background search on Mason Freeman.”

  “And?”

  “Well, his father had dealings with Dimitre a long time ago. He passed away a few years back, but the records show he was in business with Dimitre for a brief stint until they parted ways.”

  “Parted ways? Is that possible? Usually, you’re in the mob for life.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  “How did you find out all of this?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve been working on this for days, while you were off here and there. Going to doctor’s appointments and such.”

  “Seriously, Terry?”

  He laughed.

  “Well, speaking of my being off here and there, I’ve got to go. I have that dinner date with the reporter. But tomorrow morning, you and me, we’re headed to talk to these men. And Freeman.”

  -

  Chapter 48

  WHEN MADISON ARRIVED AT PICCOLO ITALIA, King was already seated. He was reading on a tablet and had a bottle of red on the table, a glass three-quarters full in front of him. He wore a blue dress shirt, the top two buttons were undone, and he had paired it with black pants—Dockers, Madison guessed based on the fabric and the sharp pleats.

  He didn’t notice her approach.

  “Mr. King.” Madison took the seat across from him and thanked the hostess for leading her to the table.

  “How nice of you to join me.” King moved the tablet beside his place setting.

  “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

  “And here I was going to say you look nice.”

  She conducted the obligatory glance down at her attire. She had just thrown on a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. She dressed it up with a black blazer, but no jewelry, no refreshed makeup, and certainly no eye shadow.

  “You’re probably being more than generous, but thank you.” She reached for the wine bottle.

  “Let me.” He retracted his hand when he caught her eyes. “Ah, yes, you like to do everything yourself.”

  “Well, I’m more than capable of pouring my own wine.”

  King laughed, and it put her at ease. She found herself smiling.

  “I don’t mean it like that. I don’t drink a lot.” She had quieted up before she risked rambling on. The purpose of tonight was PR—what she wouldn’t do for her job. She took a sip of
wine, followed by a deep breath. “My sergeant said you want to know more about—”

  “Welcome to Piccolo Italia. My name is Marianne and I’ll be your server this evening.” A dark-haired woman in her early twenties stood at the side of their table. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

  Madison shook her head. Her original plan was to have what she always did here so she’d be ready to order the minute she sat down. Now, her eyes went to her wine. “Just a few minutes, please.”

  “Certainly.” The waitress left.

  Madison took a long sip of the red. She let the wine coat her tongue and appreciated its oaky flavors as they overtook her palate. She took another sip, this one a quick mouthful and swallow.

  “I take it that it meets your standards.”

  “What is it you want to know about me?” she asked the question, as the fact weighed in that today was too much. First a shrink made her feel guilt, or, at the very least, made her aware that she carried it around with her. And then, the four bodies. The reward at the end of the day was dinner at a classy restaurant, seated across from a man who wanted to get inside her mind.

  “I want to know what makes Madison Knight tick,” he said.

  And he didn’t hide that fact by dancing around it…

  “Tick?” She laughed and took another drink of wine. Was sharing one bottle going to be enough?

  “Yes, the public knows that you’re one determined cop, that you’re even willing to put your life on the line, but who are you? When you don’t have the badge and the gun, who is Madison Knight?”

  “I have a dog.” She lifted her glass to her lips but didn’t take a drink. She lowered it, thinking better of it. She needed to slow down before the alcohol loosened her lips.

  “You have a dog.” King took a draw on his wine and noted the comment in his tablet. “That will touch people.”

  That was her, always worried about pleasing other people. Another sip of wine.

  “People will love to hear about this softer side of you, and, while that is very interesting, I think the point I want to get to is your personal life. What is it like?”

  Madison’s instinct was to bolt. “I’m here only because I really have no choice. No one has the right to make me dig into my feelings but my shrink and that’s—” Shit! She caught the reflection in his eyes.

  “You see a point in psychiatry.”

  She settled back into her chair, why, she didn’t really know. “Can we talk off the record?”

  “The entire point of this is so that it’s on record.”

  “Listen, I just really don’t know what you want from me. I have a dog, I love Hershey’s bars.” Speaking of, it had been a while since her last one…

  She continued. “I have a strained relationship with my mother, I’m single and happier that way. My younger sister is perfect. She’s married, has three daughters. Sometimes I watch TV, but don’t usually have time to. I rarely sleep. I have one woman who I consider my best friend.” She let out a deep breath.

  “That was good. I can use all of that. When you’re not at work, what are you doing?”

  “Is that a trick question?”

  “You’re one of those who doesn’t know how to relax, aren’t you?”

  “I’m relaxed right now.” She took another draw of wine and felt it go straight to her head. It was time to order. Where was that waitress?

  “You like your wine.”

  “Please, don’t put that down.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m complicated, all right. I don’t know how to calm down. I’m wired twenty-four-seven. If there’s something to do—and there always is—I’m doing it. It’s just how I’m programmed. Work is what makes Madison tick.”

  Ack. She had to stop drinking the wine. Not only was she providing too much in the way of personal things, but she was also referring to herself in the third person.

  She put the glass back on the table. “I should really get going.”

  “You haven’t eaten dinner, and they have a nice brie appetizer.”

  Appetizer? This was starting to feel like a date.

  “Another time.” It was a dismissive pleasantry. She had no intentions of seeing the man again. And, if there were a God, he’d make that prayer come true. She stood.

  “There is one thing we didn’t touch on, Detective. Your grandfather, his murder? The real reason you became a cop and have a thing against the Russian Mafia. I want to discuss that with you.”

  How did he know all that? If he knew, did that mean Chief McAlexandar knew all this time? She was certain he was King’s informant from the beginning.

  She leveled eyes with him. “My mother has a saying. It’s nice to want and not always get. Good night.”

  “YOU’VE GOT TO GET THIS UNDER CONTROL.” His caller’s voice came through with his native Russian accent. “You’ve got to stop her before she destroys everything. Do you appreciate what is at stake?”

  He swirled yet another refill of Scotch, the ice cubes clinking against the glass, before taking a swig.

  “You have my word.”

  “She’s got to be silenced. Must I handle things directly all the time? Prove your loyalty.”

  He didn’t possess the stupidity or arrogance to rebut with the fact he had already proven that, time and again. When it came to this particular Russian, there was only one acceptable response—compliance.

  “I will take care of things.”

  “See that you do.”

  The line went dead.

  -

  Chapter 49

  MADISON WENT INTO THE STATION with a Starbucks cup held firmly in one hand, a Hershey’s bar in the other. The wrapper was pulled back and she took a bite. Heaven.

  She didn’t realize she’d closed her eyes to savor the chocolate until she opened them to Terry. He lifted his cup to her in greeting.

  Sergeant Winston came out of his office, closing the distance to her in large strides. “How did it go with the reporter, Knight?”

  She wasn’t going to get into everything this morning. She hoped that King would prove his decency and leave the matter alone, but she knew better. He was a reporter after all. Getting the scoop was more important than morals.

  “It went fine. Ready, Terry?”

  “Ah, yeah.” He looked between the two of them and stood beside Madison.

  “All right, let’s go.” Madison threw the crumpled chocolate bar wrapper into the garbage. She took a few steps away.

  “Terry filled me in this morning. He was in early,” the sergeant said.

  She felt like saying, good for him. Based on the way he watched her, she wondered if he knew about her interaction with the chief, but if he did, it wouldn’t be a smart move for the chief. Winston walked away.

  “Where to first?” Madison asked.

  “Well, the guy’s names from the warehouse are Donald Barnes and Gregory McDonald.”

  “Donald and McDonald?” She snickered.

  “Listen, I didn’t name them. Anyway, both of them live modest lives, make the average wage of the country, and have a wife and two kids. It doesn’t really matter who we start with.”

  Madison looked at the clock.

  There was just too much to do and too little time to do it all. There was still the forensic evidence and autopsy results from Douglas, his maid, and his lover, not to mention the other bodies pulled from the ravine. Richards had passed the skeletal remains along to a forensic anthropologist in a larger, nearby city for identification.

  BARNES LIVED IN A QUAINT, middle-class neighborhood in the west end, which catered to families. There was a public school close by and a couple of parks within a few blocks.

  “Who knows if they’ll even talk to us? Golden’s probably told them to keep their mouths shut,” Terry said.

  “How was that anyhow?”

&
nbsp; “What? Dealing with Golden? Oh, just peachy.”

  Madison laughed at his sarcasm.

  Barnes’s house was a brick bungalow with a large front yard. A wishing well, complete with a bucket, sat in the middle of the lawn.

  The door opened to a woman in a green t-shirt and beige pants. Her eyes squinted in the sunlight.

  “Mrs. Barnes?” Madison asked.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Detective Knight and this—”

  “Knight? You’re the detective who went into my husband’s work with her gun raised. Get off our property now.” She pulled back on the door and Madison stopped it with a counter action. “Get your hand off my door.”

  Terry touched the sleeve of Madison’s shirt and she let go of the handle. The screen door slammed, the panes of glass rattling in between the metal framing.

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I don’t need a lecture, Terry.”

  She raised her hand and knocked.

  The woman yelled, “Seriously?”

  The interior door whooshed open—the force causing the frame of the screen door to buckle inward.

  She stood behind it and spoke through the glass. “I’m going to call your boss if you keep up this harassment. Don gave his statement. He knows what he saw. Now leave.”

  Madison took in the woman’s demeanor. “Who are you afraid of, Mrs. Barnes?”

  She crossed her arms and shook her head. “Why do you think I’m afraid?”

  “You’re shaking.”

  “I’m chilly.” She rubbed at her arms. “I don’t care if you’re buying it.”

  “Were you threatened? Was your family? We can protect you.”

  “All you want to protect is your ass. You don’t care about us, about Don, about the kids. You care about your career. Well, he’s not going to lie and retract the truth.” The angles of her face sharpened. “Now get off my property.”

  The interior door slammed louder than before. This time Madison turned to leave.

  “You’ll have a call on your cell by the time we hit the car,” Terry said.

  “Good time to put it on silent then.” She passed him a look, but she didn’t get the volume turned off before it rang. But it wasn’t who she was expecting. She was tempted to hit ‘ignore’ but accepted the call.