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Guilty Photographs

Page 7

by S I Taylor

Chapter 8

  Coolidge had just finished reading the last paragraph of McKinley’s report on Senator Dempsey’s case when Chief Agent Franklin Buchanan barged into McKinley’s office.

  Chief Agent Buchanan was a very tall man. He had white curly hair that was receding at his temples. He had a long forehead with wrinkles of wisdom, as he called them, on his smooth brown skin. He had big brown eyes, but his drooping eyelids covered most of his vision. The chief always wore a three-piece suit and looked more like a GQ model than the FCCA chief.

  “Agents McKinley, Coolidge, and Bush, you’ve been reassigned.” Specks of saliva jumped out from his gapped teeth every so often when he spoke.

  Coolidge and Bush exchanged a look of disappointment. They were going back to another data-related assignment as they did when one of them—primarily McKinley—would get distracted and screw the investigation somehow.

  McKinley quickly intervened. “Chief, I should be the one to be reassigned instead of the entire team. I was the one who wasn’t focused. I should’ve known better.”

  Chief furrowed his brow in confusion, the squinting making his eyes disappear.

  “I’m the one who should be sitting behind a desk while Agents Bush and Coolidge solve this case.”

  “Agent McKinley, what are you rambling about? You three are being reassigned because there’s an even bigger case that just occurred in the Huntersville warehouse business district five.”

  Now it was the agents whose brows furrowed in confusion.

  “Oh, is this another case about a senator, congressman, or politician?” Bush asked as he riffled through the stack of papers on McKinley’s desk. McKinley was distracted for a minute but he knew Bush was slightly nervous and needed something to do with his hands.

  “No, but he’s one of Forbes’s wealthiest men in Huntersville with many political connections,” Chief said, walking around the room.

  “Sir, Huntersville is outside of our district,” McKinley said, crossing his arms.

  Chief stopped to look at them. “Yes, I know, but this is a high-profile triple murder case and you three are the best suited for this.”

  “Understood, sir. Do you know who the victims are?” Bush asked as he placed his hands in his pockets.

  “One of the victims is Nicholas Trivaldi, Junior, and his father is pissed. We need this case wrapped up fast. You have a few hours to get your things ready. There’s a flight scheduled for two of you to go to Huntersville, but I need one of you to stay in headquarters to write reports and conduct brief updates to the staff here. I’ll leave it for you three to decide who’s staying. In the meantime, here’s the file.”

  He handed McKinley a yellow manila folder with the word “Classified” stamped across it in bold red letters. McKinley looked intently at it. It was rather strange, considering that for murder cases the files tended to be large and bulky like Senator Dempsey’s file, which apparently they would be handing over soon.

  McKinley took out the file, which consisted of only two sheets in the folder and a business card. The first paper he pulled out had a list of ten names or aliases which seemed to vaguely resemble a witness information sheet. The other sheet of paper was the warehouse information. And the business card was the contact information for Deputy Chief Lyndon Polk of the Huntersville Sheriff’s Department.

  “Sir, the information in the folder is missing a lot of things,” McKinley said.

  “I know. We only have that to go by. That’s why we need for two of you to go investigate. The local sheriff’s department is doing a sloppy job at this and they just discovered the bodies late last night. Trivaldi Senior contacted the media to bring attention to this case and since it made headlines and considering his importance in the community—providing loans to small businesses, providing higher wages to his employees, not to mention he’s funding more than half of new construction to the housing development in Huntersville. On top of that, he’s one of the top contributors to the presidential election. Trivaldi is a very influential man and the media and the citizens love him. FCCA headquarters executive officers personally contacted me to assemble the best team we’ve got for this case.”

  “We’re talking about the same Nicholas Trivaldi that we have an open investigation against drug trafficking and money laundering, right?” Bush said more of a reassurance than a question.

  Chief smiled. “Yes, Agent Bush, the same one. This might be an opportunity to get information on that case as well and help Agent Martinez and his team with that case. They’ve been working on it for months without a good lead. I have faith in you three. If you guys can close both cases, the transfer Agent Coolidge and Agent McKinley put in two years ago to Miami might be granted.”

  Coolidge was a few feet away from them as if taking the information in from a different angle. “All right, sir, we’ll make sure to get a full report in a few days,” she said.

  “Good.” He patted McKinley on the back and rested his hands on Bush’s shoulders. “I’m counting on you three for this job. If there are any leads let us know as soon as possible,” he said as he looked at them with hope for a quick and easy closure.

  Coolidge’s right hand was at her hip as she nodded. “We will, sir,” she replied.

  He turned toward the door and looked to them once more. “I have high expectations of you three,” he said before he left the office a little more at ease than he’d entered.

  They all turned toward the others, their expression different.

  “Is it just me or do I feel like we have a lot of pressure on this case?” Coolidge said, concerned.

  “Nah, we got this,” McKinley said. His cool tone was convincing. He knew that if he wasn’t confident in his own words his partners would sense it and call his bluff.

  “Guys, I vote to stay behind. I’ll write the reports and update Chief,” Bush volunteered.

  Coolidge raised a brow. “I’m sure you’d rather stay home than travel to good ol’ Huntersville.” McKinley wondered if she could ever tone down the sarcasm.

  Bush shook his head slowly, pursed his lips, and paused before he answered. “Nah, I just hate flying and the whole airport atmosphere. I’ll leave the legwork to you two.”

  “Well, I’m glad we got that settled right away. You know what?” Coolidge paused and looked at her cell, pretending to scroll through it before she continued. “I looked at the word ‘team’ several times and I’m sure there isn’t an ‘I’ in it, in fact I also looked at the word ‘group’ and that also didn’t have an ‘I’ in it. Don’t you agree, McKinley?” Coolidge looked at Bush, but he shrugged, brushing her comment off.

  “Leave him alone, Coolidge, he’s scared of flying and prefers to stay home,” McKinley said with a grin.

  “You know I’m in the room, guys. You can’t talk about me in front of me,” Bush said.

  Coolidge frowned and her hands rose to her hips as she tapped her foot on the carpeted floor. “Well, you decided for the team without consulting with the team while the team was in the room,” Coolidge countered.

  “Guys, settle down, play nice,” McKinley said as if he were scolding children.

  Coolidge looked at Bush again and then diverted her gaze to McKinley, squashing whatever squabble they had. “So, McKinley, you up for the challenge?” She smiled and her tone softened.

  “If this gets us a better promotion and a move to the biggest headquarters in Miami then I’m game,” McKinley said. He wasn’t sure but he had a good feeling about this new case. As if he felt that this would be the case that would define their position within the bureau.

  “Glad we’re on the same page,” Bush said. McKinley looked at Bush and it was as if he could tell that Bush also felt the same. His smile and his relaxed shoulders proved it to him.

  Meanwhile, Coolidge stood rigid with her hands across her chest. She stared at Bush, then smirked and shook her head.

  McKinley walked to his desk and sat in front of his computer, typing. “What are you doing?” Bush asked. But
the question was more of a warning than curiosity. McKinley knew the reasoning behind the question. Bush seemed afraid that McKinley was drifting into his hobby of finding his sister.

  Bush’s concerns were well understood and without glancing up at him McKinley answered calmly. “I’m researching Huntersville to see where Coolidge and I should stay.”

  “Fair enough,” Bush said, sounding more relieved than he intended.

  McKinley looked up from his computer. “Coolidge and I will be on the first flight to Huntersville. Bush, make the reservations for Coolidge and myself. We’ll be staying at the Huntersville Inn East a few miles from the sheriff’s office. We’ll be close enough to get to the station quickly and respond to anything if they need our assistance.” McKinley started dictating commands as if he was the lead investigator when in fact they all had equal say, but Coolidge and Bush didn’t mind his leadership, which oftentimes was borderline commanding, as if talking to military troops before going to war.

  “Before I forget, Bush, make sure that the safehouse that we have in the area is fully stocked and ready if we need it. Coolidge, don’t forget your federal travel card and pack light, as we are going to close this case faster than the last.”

  “You sound sure of yourself,” Bush said, looking at McKinley with a raised brow.

  “Kind of arrogant if you ask me,” Coolidge added, her lips curled into a half smile, sure that her remark hit a slight nerve of uneasiness with McKinley.

  “I’m neither. I’m confident, that’s all. We did well last time and we’re riding on that confident train,” he assured them.

  Coolidge huffed and turned toward the door. She seemed as if she wasn’t convinced but chose to back down instead of arguing.

  Coolidge looked between McKinley and Bush. “As the old saying goes, ‘Don’t count your eggs before they hatch.’ I don’t want you to get disappointed like the first case we ever had. Which was reassigned because we were making rookie moves, ahem, like this one.”

  Bush didn’t need much convincing at times but today Coolidge was swaying his opinion like a pendulum.

  Bush and Coolidge both looked at McKinley, who seemed to disagree with them. “Don’t worry, we’ve come a long way from the rookie years, thankfully, and I have faith in us.”

  Coolidge jerked her head at Bush. He in turn seemed convinced at the small pep talk.

  “Anyway, I’m going home to pack. I’ll meet you at the airport, McKinley. Bush, text me the departure times so that I can be there early,” Coolidge said.

  “Sure thing, Coolidge,” Bush said. “I’ll text you the itinerary too, McKinley.”

  “Cool. Thanks, man. I’m right behind you, Coolidge,” McKinley said, glad that they were able to work things out smoothly.

  “Good luck, guys, and safe travels,” Bush added. He smoothed his hair back twice and fidgeted with the straps of his wristwatch, something Bush did when he was anxious.

  They all walked out of McKinley’s office. Coolidge and McKinley headed for the elevators and Bush toward his office to work on his assigned task.

  Michelle Coolidge had been coming home to an empty home for years until her mother got her Rocco, a white Siberian husky. Even though she argued with her mother about her allergies and that huskies shed a lot of hair, she grew to love Rocco, and now she couldn’t imagine life without him. She would go hiking for hours on the Cowles Mountain Trail with Rocco three times a week and if she could, she would go more often but work often demanded most of her time.

  She stood outside of her ranch-style home imagining Rocco alert in front of the door waiting for her to enter. She slid the key inside the keyhole and she could hear his anticipation as he barked once with joy. She opened the door to brace herself as Rocco, her two-year-old puppy, weighing nearly sixty pounds, jumped into her arms.

  Her home was spacious her kitchen had all-white wooden cabinets with stainless steel appliances and a gray quartz countertop. The fresh cashmere wood scent that sprayed throughout her living room and dining room reminded her of the sweet scent of the outdoors.

  “Hey, little guy.”

  She knew Rocco was nearly half her size but the nickname stuck and suited him since she almost swore that he thought he was the eight-pound puppy he once was at two months.

  He barked again.

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  She scanned the room and as always, the house was as neat and tidy as she left it. Rocco was a well-trained husky and it was attributed to the month-long training school she attended with Rocco.

  “You’re such a great dog.”

  She walked over to the kitchen and gave Rocco a treat and watched as he gulped the grilled medium-sized chicken patty. She patted his head and knelt next to him.

  “I need to go out of town and Grandma Estelle will take care of you for a few days.”

  As if he could sense her departure he whimpered. She nuzzled him. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

  She stood as she took her cell phone from the kitchen counter and called her mother.

  The phone rung twice before Michelle heard her name.

  “Hello, Michelle.”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Michelle.” Her mother’s voice sounded so delighted to hear her voice. “I was thinking about you and I wanted to confirm our dinner plans for tomorrow night,” Estelle said.

  “I was also calling in regard to that as well.”

  “Good, I made reservations for Plumeria Vegetarian Restaurant. That place you like so much at the end of Park Boulevard. The receptionist was so nice. She said that the place gets packed in the evenings and that they usually don’t take reservations but I told her that I was on a strict eating schedule and she made the accommodations to have a table reserved for us at six tomorrow night. I’m thinking of inviting Chad so you can finally meet him. He’s a doctor, you know, if you two get married you won’t need to work that dangerous job.”

  Her mother was a very animated and carefree person who could talk for hours if not stopped. Estelle was always looking for a boyfriend for Michelle since her younger brother, Ralph, was already married and with a baby on the way. Her mother wanted Michelle to also have a family and be a housewife like her and now like Natalie, her brother’s wife.

  “Mom, please. I don’t want you to set me up with anyone. Besides, the last guy you set me up with had a long criminal background and was under investigation for fraud.”

  “I know, honey, that was unfortunate, he seemed like a good young man. He’s my hairdresser son and she talked wonders about him so much that I thought he was interesting enough for you.” Her tone was apologetic but then shifted to an exuberant tone. “However, this time, I got my sources correct and Chad Newman is a respectable surgeon at Sharp Memorial Hospital.”

  “Thanks, Mom, but I can find my own disaster date alone.” She thought about the dating app she had subscribed to a few months ago but yet to create a profile. “Besides, I actually called you so you could come over and get Rocco for a few days.”

  Estelle gasped. “Don’t tell me that you’re leaving on vacation when we had plans.”

  “No, Mom, I have to travel for work on this new case. I don’t want to leave him at the kennel as the last time he didn’t eat for two days and when I got him back he seemed to have lost so much weight.”

  “I’m sorry. I know. No worries, Rocco and I will have fun together.”

  “Mom, I haven’t walked him today since I need to pack and get my things ready for this trip. I’ll take him for a quick walk now, but can you do me a favor and walk him as well?”

  “Sure, Rocco and I need some alone time. I’ll tell your father to pick him up on his way home this evening.”

  “I’m sorry about canceling our plans, Mom.” Michelle loved spending time with her mother. Since her friend list was short, Michelle spent most of her time with Rocco or at work. Besides, she didn’t like to gossip and thought that gossiping was something that women did. She tried to befriend Tiffany, the re
cords keeper from the first floor at work. They went out for a few drinks after her shift with a few other girls from the office. But when the night was spent talking about everyone from work Michelle had tuned them out. When she got home, she attributed her headache from shaking her head all night and not from the five tequila sunrises she had.

  “It’s okay, dear, we will postpone when you get back.”

  “Thank you, Mom, I love you.”

  “Love you too, Michelle.”

  She ended the call and looked to Rocco. “Grandpa Steve is coming for you. Behave, okay, little guy?”

  He wagged his tail and after she took him out for a quick walk to do his business, he followed her to the bedroom and watched as she took her suitcase from her closet and started packing.

  Her cell phone chimed with a text from Bush. Her flight was in two hours, giving her enough time to heat her leftovers. She took out the glass bowl of grilled vegetables and tofu from the fridge and heated it in the microwave. She grabbed Rocco’s bowl and placed two scoops full of dry dog food in it. She watched him as he wagged his tail in anticipation for the savory meal. The microwave dinged and the kitchen was filled with the scent of steaming food.

  She and Rocco both ate their meal in silence. She looked at the time walked to the sink and washed her dish.

  “Grandpa will be here in an hour and Grandma will walk you again.” Michelle spoke to Rocco as if he understood and he stared at her intently, not breaking eye contact. Then he barked once.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  She grabbed her suitcase and then her cell and called a cab to take her to the airport.

  Carter McKinley’s home was still in boxes and he’d moved to this new apartment at least a year ago. The only thing that was set up was his office, which was a mess with papers everywhere, and his bedroom, which was for the most part clean and well-kept except for his pajama pants that he discarded that morning on the carpeted floor when he went on his early morning jog.

  When he broke up with Claire he’d put dating on hold and became consumed with finding his sister. That’s all he did most of his free time. His parents were a mess and he attributed his chaotic and manic state to them. He supposed he treated finding Monroe like his parents were addicted to drugs.

 

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