by J. M. Madden
“Meeting Roark was just a coincidence. We bumped into each other at a club neither of us would usually even be in. My tire was slashed before he and I ever started talking to each other. As a matter of fact, I’m the one who approached him.”
“And maybe that first slash of the tire truly was a coincidence,” Olivera reasoned. “Roark might have seen that as a good opportunity to exploit your trust. You might just be an opportunity that presented itself to him.” Olivera’s smug expression was grating on her.
“You think this is something he would do?” she asked Charger, scrutinizing his face as he thought to answer.
“I don’t know him anymore. He burned me too many times and I stopped taking his calls. He reached out to me a couple days ago and wanted some information,” Charger admitted, averting his eyes as he spoke. “He wanted me to do a background check and run the DMV on someone.”
“Who?” Olivera asked, his anxious pen hovering over the paper.
“Her,” Charger conceded, gesturing with his chin over at Demi. “I didn’t give it to him. I haven’t given him anything in a long time.”
“What happens now?” Demi asked, looking back and forth between the two men. Olivera looked like an excited kid about to go on a shopping spree while Charger looked like someone just ran over his dog. But they both looked like they thought Roark was involved.
“We’ll file this report and then we’ll bring him in. As a courtesy for his history with this department we’ll hold off on arresting him as long as this doesn’t escalate any further.” Charger finally sat down across from her and folded his hands, looking like he was praying.
“No, hang on a second. He doesn’t even know I’m here. He deserves a heads up. If this isn’t him then he’s going to be completely blindsided. That isn’t fair.” Demi was still holding out hope that Roark wasn’t involved directly in this.
All three of the other people in the room spoke at once but Olivera’s voice was the loudest and took over the others. “The upper hand is exactly the type of thing we need with a guy like Roark. A heads up will give him time to cover his tracks and we can’t have that. He’s too good at what he does.”
“This is crazy,” Demi groaned, feeling like she was now in some bizarre dream world she couldn’t break out of. She couldn’t decide what would be worse, if Roark wasn’t the one harassing her and she had to face him after this or if he was and she had to deal with that truth. She didn’t want to go up against him in any way.
“He’s crazy,” Tori added, rubbing Demi’s back, trying to comfort her.
“I just don’t know what to think right now,” Demi admitted, the first tear finally falling. “I really liked him. I know that sounds silly but I thought I was a good judge of character.”
“You probably are,” Charger offered, patting her hand gently.
Olivera cleared his throat and stopped taking notes for a moment as he spoke. “He’s a master manipulator and you couldn’t possibly be prepared for something like that. I have an idea. When we bring him in you can listen to the interview through the observation booth. Sometimes that helps make it all feel more real and you can process the different emotions.”
Demi nodded in agreement. She didn’t think she’d believe that Roark was involved unless she heard it for herself.
“Is there anything else you aren’t telling us?” Charger asked, releasing her hand and looking deep into her eyes, searching for something. It unsettled her to be scrutinized in such a way.
“No,” she answered flatly and averted her eyes. “ I’ve told you everything pertinent.”
“Great,” Olivera sang out. “Now tell us everything that you don’t think is pertinent so we can get a full report going. I’ve got enough here to have Roark picked up now. Any idea where he might be other than his place?”
“He had a job interview today. I’m not sure where. I don’t know where his apartment is. We always stayed at my place.”
“Always?” Charger asked, looking skeptical. “You said it’s been over a week that you’ve been seeing him. How many nights has he been at your place?”
“All of them since our first actual date. We were going to go to dinner but a couple hours before he was going to pick me up my four tires got slashed in front of the house. I called him to cancel and he offered to come over. We ended up just getting takeout and he stayed over. He’s been at my place every night since.” Demi’s cheeks were bright red as she stared down at her fidgeting fingers.
“We’re not judging you,” Charger assured her, softening his face and giving her a charming half smile. “You’d be amazed what we come across, this is not something you should be embarrassed about.”
“I’d imagine you’ve seen it all,” Demi nodded. “Will you guys be on this the whole time? I mean, you’re homicide detectives and no one’s been killed here. Isn’t this somebody else’s problem?”
“We’ll see it through. With the history Roark has here I’m sure our superiors will support that.” Charger looked over at Olivera who shot back a look that said he certainly wasn’t going to quit on this.
“I’m looking forward to seeing this guy finally pay for something rather than getting away with crime after crime. No way I’m giving this case up,” Olivera cheered, too happy for the scenario.
“Why don’t we actually investigate this first,” Charger emphasized angrily. “We don’t rely on coincidence and circumstantial evidence. He deserves a shot at explaining himself and we owe him our time in investigating this properly. Innocent until proven guilty.”
“Proving him guilty hasn’t seemed to be enough in the past,” Olivera muttered as he stood and made his way for the door. “I’m going to get him picked up. You go ahead and dig into the details and try to find someone else who might have done this. Only one of us will be wasting our time.”
When Olivera stepped out and the room was quiet again the rest of them sat for a moment exchanging awkward glances. “You don’t want him to be guilty do you?” Demi asked, meeting Charger’s sad looking stare.
“It doesn’t matter what I want. He either is or he isn’t. My job is to find out. If I got into this line of work because I liked happy results than I’d be an idiot. I didn’t agree with what Roark did on the job, manipulating things to go our way, but I certainly see why he did it. The bad guys get a hell of a lot more chances than they should and we get more roadblocks than seems fair. We’ve all been there, standing at the edge of what’s right and wrong and wondering where the real line is. Roark just jumped the line and never looked back. I hope he’s not behind this harassment, but if he is, I won’t hesitate to do my job. We’ll make sure you’re safe, Miss Kay.”
There was very little to hold onto at this moment when everything felt like it was crumbling around her, but his words were an anchor. They meant something and she wanted to believe him. She wanted to feel safe. So much of her life had been a lie – she hoped this was the truth.
SIX
“You’ve got to be shitting me right now,” Roark barked as Olivera pushed him down into a chair in the interrogation room. Demi had seen this on television a thousand times, but sitting on the other side of one-way glass was far more unsettling than she could have imagined. She didn’t feel like it was possible that Roark really couldn’t see her. She felt vulnerable even though Charger had insisted she was completely safe.
“You’re the only joke here, Roark,” Olivera cut back, slamming the door to the interrogation room. “And I doubt you’ll be laughing long.”
“You’ve been waiting for this for a while, Olivera. Let’s hear what you think you’ve got on me so I can get the hell out of here and back to my day.”
“Back to that job interview you didn’t really have today? We’ll call that lie number one and work our way backwards from there,” Olivera laughed as he sat down and folded his arms confidently across his chest. Demi watched as the flash of confusion on Roark’s face morphed into one of understanding. The fact that he didn’t cou
nter Olivera’s point and insist he did have a job interview let her know he had lied about it.
“You talked to Demi?” Roark deduced, still with a casual posture. He was pissed, that was clear enough, but he didn’t seem rattled by the idea of being detained.
Charger stepped into the room, moving quickly and looking angry. “I told you to wait for me,” he barked at Olivera.
“Thank God,” Roark hollered. “Talk some sense into this moron, Charger. He had his boys pick me up and bring me down here for no reason. I’ve got shit to do today.”
“It’s not that easy, Roark. There’s a complaint against you. A report’s been filed and we need to address it. But you know I’ll make sure you get a fair shot.” Charger sat down and placed the folder in front of him.
“Well that makes one of you considering Olivera here has had it out for me since I made detective before him. How’s that axe you’re grinding?” Roark narrowed his eyes at the chubby detective.
“Getting sharper by the minute,” Olivera retorted, raising an eyebrow at him in challenge.
“Can we get on with this? Demi came in and filed a report, you heard my name and decided I was the prime suspect in her tires getting slashed?”
“No, she came in and said that you showed up and then this stuff started happening. She told us you talked her out of calling the police and at some point she started to believe it was you. That’s what brought her in today. That and the threatening note you left in her locker at work.” Olivera unfolded the paper and slid it across the table.
“What are you doing?” Roark asked, looking down at the paper and reading it quickly. “This hasn’t been dusted for prints? Why would you even tell me about it rather than trying to slip me up and get me to mention it accidently? You’re showing your hand. Rather than proving I didn’t do it you’re trying to just tell me I did. I don’t like you, Olivera, but you’re better than this. At least do your job. Because while you’re here focusing on me you’re missing a huge piece of this puzzle.”
Olivera fell silent as he snatched the note back and tossed it into his folder. “What piece of the puzzle is that?”
“She’s not telling you something about her past. Read that note. That is a pretty targeted message written as if she should understand it. There’s another player here. Someone other than me, because I clearly have no motive in all this,” Roark shot back confidently.
Demi felt her stomach fall hard toward the floor with a nervous thud. What in the world could Roark know about her past that would be causing this?
“Oh, you have a motive. You’re a sick bastard who likes to control everything. You’re pretending to stalk her so she’ll be so scared she runs into your arms. You’re her knight in shining armor. The more afraid she is the more you have her right where you want her. That’s why you slashed her tire that night you picked her up in the bar.”
“First off, I didn’t pick her up. She sat down with me. I didn’t even notice her in that shithole and wasn’t looking for a piece of ass. I was working. Secondly, unlike your fat ass I don’t have a problem getting women. I don’t need to trick them into wanting me in their bed.”
The brash, cocky tone in his voice was enough to rattle Demi.
“If you don’t have any evidence then I’ve got nothing else to say to you besides the fact that you’re barking up the wrong tree and wasting time. Judging by that note she is in danger, and focusing on me because you have some kind of vendetta isn’t going to keep her safe.”
“But you are?” Charger asked, tossing his hands up in exasperation. “You’re going to solve this mystery all on your own? You don’t need anyone. Just like the old days.”
“Come on, Charger, you know damn well the things I didn’t involve you in were for your own good. And no, to answer your question, I’m not going to solve this on my own. I’m done. I like Demi, I hope this works out for her, but I’m not interjecting myself into this any further. You know my rule. I don’t protect people who don’t want my protection. Obviously her coming in here tells me she’d prefer not to have me around. Put a tail on me so that the next time she gets her tires slashed or a note is left for her you can rule me out. Then maybe you’ll do some actual detective work and figure out what she’s hiding and why.”
“You know something and won’t tell us? That’s being reckless with her safety, don’t you think?” Charger jabbed at him but Demi could see he wasn’t taking the bait.
“It’s not my secret to tell and it’s not like she’s in a position not to tell it. She’s probably still here somewhere. If she’s really worried about her safety tell her to drop the act. As for me, I’m done. You won’t see me around her again and you won’t hear anything about me pursuing this case. If you come up with some kind of evidence that I’m stalking her then drag my ass back in here. Otherwise, this is goodbye,” Roark announced as he stood and pushed in the large metal chair. As he made his way to the door, Demi held her breath and analyzed the look on his face. There was nothing but poise and cool indifference as he reached for the door handle.
Weren’t the detectives going to stop him? Weren’t they going to ask more questions? Demi’s mind was reeling as the door slammed shut and the two detectives sat there staring at each other.
Her long day got even longer when the seat Roark had just left was suddenly the one she was asked to sit in. Much different than the casual conference room, this real life interrogation room was intimidating. It was devoid of any color or attempts at comfort.
“Miss Kay,” Charger asked, looking down at his notes and then back up at her. “I’m guessing you heard what Roark had to say about the situation.”
“I did,” she gulped. “It didn’t seem like you asked him very many questions. I didn’t expect you to just let him walk out like that.”
“His points were all valid,” Olivera interjected, all the wind knocked out of his sails now.
“You told him about the letter right out. He was right. You were being sloppy. Why not see if he mentioned it himself? Then you’d know he was involved. It sounds like you were being smug and that’s why he got to walk out of here,” Demi pointed out as her cheeks flushed.
Olivera nearly spat out his swig of coffee as he started to speak. “Excuse me, missy, I don’t need you telling me how to do my job. Especially when you don’t give me all the information up front. You want to hold on to some dirty little secrets from your past then you can deal with the consequences. Those curve balls are what compromise cases.”
“I don’t have a secret. Whatever bullshit he was feeding you I’m clueless. We never talked about our pasts. The only thing he knows is where I’m from. You said you didn’t give him anything on me when he called so he’s obviously bluffing. And it worked.” Demi stood to leave but Charger gestured for her to sit back down. That was the difference between her and Roark. She didn’t have the courage to keep walking when they asked her to take a seat.
“We all have skeletons in our closets,” Charger said gently, trying to create a safe place for Demi to open up to them. “Roark seems to believe there is something in your past that might be linked to these events. He’s flawed but he has the best gut of any cop I’ve ever met.”
“He’s not a cop,” Olivera cut in. “And if she says she’s got nothing interesting in her past then we can all agree that this is just some game Roark is playing to get us to back off of him. But I’m not taking any chances. I’ve already put a tail on him and if he slips up even a little bit I’ll be all over his ass.”
“Because you care if anything happens to me or because you want to nail him for something?” Demi asked, twisting her face up in frustration.
Olivera didn’t answer. He just jotted something else down in his notebook and then stood to leave. “I’m going to get someone assigned to patrolling your house and the surrounding area.”
“I’m sorry about him,” Charger apologized as he unbuttoned his shirt sleeves at the wrist and rolled them up to his elbows.
/> “Is this good cop bad cop, because I’m not holding out on you? There is no reason to play games. I’m a boring kid from Maine. I work at the hospital.”
“Detroit has one of the highest unemployment rates in the country. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone talk about coming here for a job.” Charger was trying not to sound like this was an interrogation but Demi was interpreting it as such. Her skin was prickly with annoyance.
“There are even fewer jobs on a remote island off of Maine. Before the downturn got really bad St. Augustine Hospital was going to be a state of the art teaching school determined to breathe life into the community. Now it’s a half built struggling place to triage gun shot wounds and assault victims. But it’s my hospital now, that’s why I stay. I have friends there. It’s a community.” Demi’s anger grew as she found herself over explaining in defensive tones. She was the victim here, but suddenly she didn’t feel like it.
“Nothing back in Maine we should know about? Some old flame who followed you out here? This note says you were told to leave. That tells me whoever wrote it doesn’t want you in Detroit anymore. Is there anyone back home who would want you scared and considering going back to Maine?”
“I’ll give you a list of my ex-boyfriends going all the way back to sixth grade. None of them is hung up on me. Trust me, they’ve moved on. Most are married and have kids by now. No one would care that I’m in Detroit enough to want me to leave. If it’s not Roark doing this I can tell you it’s not someone who has ever been in my personal life.”
Charger cleared his throat as he slid the paper and pen over to her. “I’ll take that list of boyfriends or anyone you’ve been involved with. Even if it’s just casual hook ups like Roark. I need them all.”
“All of them? I mean, I didn’t get everyone’s name along the way,” Demi huffed as she picked up the pen and snatched the paper. “Can I just write down which public bathrooms I found their phone numbers written in and you can track them down? Clearly you’re under the impression that I just hook up with random people. I’ve lived in Detroit for three years. Two of which I’ve spent completely immersed in a clinical trial that’s taken up all of my time and attention. The night I met Roark I was celebrating the success of that trial and I didn’t sleep with him. I’m not some,”