by S I Taylor
John Doe reached for his pocket once more and seemed to have relaxed a little once the recorder was in McKinley’s briefcase and he was certain that he would not sign a statement.
He looked a little at ease, but he seemed wary of the written statement that he would not sign or attest to before the perpetrator was caught. McKinley thought that John Doe didn’t want to be another statistic of premature death due to informing the feds about anything.
“Is that fine with you? Or you want me to blink several times to simulate a camera and record a mental picture that way?” Coolidge said, annoyed.
He looked her way for a split second and got back to his coffee. “That won’t be necessary. Just as long as I’m not signing that,” he said, pointing at the notepad.
“You won’t today,” Coolidge said.
“I won’t until I decide I want to,” he snarled.
“Well, since we’ve got the small details out of the way, let’s begin, shall we?” McKinley interrupted. McKinley nodded to Coolidge and she began writing.
“Can you tell us what you saw on the night in question, Wednesday, June eighth, between the hours of three and eight in the morning?” McKinley asked him.
“I stay across the street from the warehouse and that night my lady companion was visiting. It was just the two of us drinking and having a good time, enjoying the night on my front porch,” he said.
“Can we get her name, address, and possibly a phone number to confirm your whereabouts?” Coolidge asked, looking up from her writing.
“No, she’s not involved in any of this, and she won’t talk to you guys,” he said. John Doe spoke in a low growl, gritting his teeth. He dug his index finger on the table as he spoke and then pointed.
McKinley was not surprised at his comment and was starting to doubt his credibility.
“Okay, so, did you see something out of the ordinary?” McKinley asked.
John Doe’s demeanor was calmer. He adjusted himself in his seat before he answered. “Not at first. I saw a young slim girl from a distance with three men. They were chatting, laughing, and having a good time.”
“Okay, then what else happened?” McKinley asked.
John Doe removed the fedora, revealing a very shiny bald head. “I’m not sure, because we went inside to get more drinks and when we got back outside, they were gone,” he said.
McKinley only had a second to notice before Coolidge slammed the notepad on the table and stood, causing John Doe to quickly place the hat on his head again.
“You fucking wasted our time,” she said.
The coffee shop patrons looked at them, waiting for the next action to take place.
“Coolidge, calm down. Sit the fuck down!” McKinley told her through gritted teeth.
Coolidge and McKinley looked around as McKinley wrapped his hand on her arm and dragged her back to sit.
“He didn’t see shit and he made us drive all the way out here for nothing,” she whispered, digging her fingers on the table at every word she spoke.
McKinley looked at her, wishing that she would calm down. He had an opportunity to study John Doe but her outburst interrupted him.
“I wasn’t finished,” Mr. Doe said. His eyes were glued to his hands wrapped around the coffee mug.
“Excuse my partner. She’s eager to give the families any news we come across. Please continue. What else happened?” McKinley asked. He was beginning to dislike Coolidge’s attitude as she took the good-cop-bad-cop routine too far at times. He thought that maybe next time they should switch roles.
Coolidge snatched the pen and notepad again, eyed him, and began to jot down his statement.
“If she interrupts again, I’m not talking,” Mr. Doe said.
“She won’t. Right, Coolidge?” McKinley said.
“Right!” she said through her clenched jaw.
McKinley and Coolidge listened as Mr. Doe continued with his recollection of that night.
“When we came back outside it was maybe ten minutes later. We didn’t see anything but the lights outside of the old warehouse flickered on and we knew it wasn’t a passerby because you have to be a few feet in front of the door in order for the lights to turn on. My friend and I stayed outside for a few more hours and headed back indoors. I work early so I left at about seven thirty in the morning to make it to work on time. When I was getting inside my car, I saw the same girl covered in blood stumbling down the street. I felt sorry for her. I wanted to give her a ride home, but I didn’t want to get involved in whatever she had going on. I figured it must have been bad, especially now that you two came looking for me.”
This was the first lead McKinley and Coolidge had in three days. Although they were desperate for information they wanted this to be credible, particularly in his writing. But they would settle for this for now. They had four more names on the witness list that could tie loose ends and complete the puzzle.
“Did you get a closer look at her?” McKinley asked.
“Nah, I didn’t want her to see me staring. Besides, from the amount of blood she had on her I didn’t want to be her victim as well,” he added.
Coolidge stopped writing to look up at John Doe, who didn’t make eye contact. “As well?” Coolidge asked. “You said as well as if you’re certain she was a perpetrator, not a victim.”
“Shit, I don’t know. You can’t be too careful. You tell me, if you saw a bloody girl walking in broad daylight, would you stop to help?”
“Yes,” Coolidge said quickly.
“Right, you’re a cop, of course you would stop to help.”
“No, I would stop because I’m human,” Coolidge responded.
McKinley looked between them both and saw how irritated Coolidge was getting; meanwhile, John Doe remained cool and unfazed.
“Are you sure you didn’t notice anything else? There was nothing unique about her that you can remember?” McKinley probed.
John Doe placed his head further down toward his chest, probably trying to think about that night and morning and any other details he might be forgetting.
His hands touched his beard as if the act would spark a memory. “Now that I think about it, she was wearing a blouse that reached midthigh. I wasn’t sure if she had really short shorts or if she was walking around in her panties. She was also holding her purse tight around her body and holding her side. Maybe she was hurt there,” he said.
That was peculiar, McKinley thought as he and Coolidge briefly looked at each other. A naked, wounded girl and no one helped.
“What about the identity of the other three men who were with her?” McKinley continued with his questioning.
“I already told you, from the distance their faces weren’t clear, and it was dark. If I couldn’t make out her face, what makes you think I would be able to make out their faces?” John Doe said, annoyed.
“Right, but I have to ask. So, did you see any of the men leave after you sat there with your friend or after you saw the girl? Maybe your friend saw them leave after? Or perhaps did you see any new person arrive?” McKinley asked.
“I didn’t see anyone else besides the people you’re asking about,” Mr. Doe said, “I’m not implicating my friend and everything you ask should be directed toward me. Whatever I tell you is what I saw and what happened. If you feel as if you need another witness statement, then go get that elsewhere. But from me you’ll get what I say.”
He tugged at his ear as he swirled the coffee cup around, as though he was controlling anger that was about to emerge at any time.
“Okay. Well, are you certain that the same girl who was there that night was the same girl who left the next morning?” McKinley asked him.
McKinley looked attentively at him, but John Doe never looked up from his drink. He was nursing that coffee and by now McKinley was sure it wasn’t hot anymore.
“I can’t be one hundred percent certain but I’m sure there was a girl there with them,” he said.
“Can you say that the girl you s
aw that night was the same girl you saw in the morning?” Coolidge added.
“The body type and height were the same, so take that piece of information as you please,” he said.
“This man is impossible,” Coolidge mumbled only for McKinley to hear.
Although John Doe seemed sketchy and had a few requirements for his statement, McKinley was grateful for the information. His recollection of what occurred seemed plausible considering that he knew information that only a witness would know, since the gender or the number of people who were in the warehouse was not made public yet.
Coolidge stopped writing and looked at McKinley, then at Mr. Doe.
“If we have further questions will you answer them in the future?” Coolidge asked.
“Maybe,” he said coolly.
She shook her head slowly. “Great. Thanks,” she added sarcastically.
“Thank you, Mr. Doe. We appreciate your cooperation. If you do remember anything else please give me a call,” McKinley said.
McKinley handed him one of his business cards and John Doe didn’t reach for it. McKinley held it for a few seconds and then placed it on the table.
“If you don’t have any further information then our conversation is complete,” McKinley said.
John Doe remained sitting there along with them. “Aren’t you guys leaving?” he said, still looking at his coffee and never making eye contact.
McKinley’s plan was to wait until John Doe got up so that he could assess his height, body type, weight, and gait. But John Doe was a step ahead of the game.
“Yeah, we were just gathering our things and we’ll be on our way,” McKinley responded as he cursed under his breath.
McKinley jerked his head and signaled to Coolidge that it was time to leave. They both got their things and left the coffee shop. They hopped inside the SUV and headed for Huntersville.
“I don’t trust him,” Coolidge said.
“I agree, especially the fact that he never made eye contact with us. I can read people, but he was not cooperative,” McKinley said.
Coolidge nodded. “I wanted to stay to get a feel of what he really looks like,” Coolidge said, staring back into the coffee shop from the passenger seat.
McKinley turned the GPS on and maneuvered through the streets until he found the freeway.
“I know I was thinking the same. But he gave us more information than he let on. We already know where he lives and all we have to do is just get a surveillance team to figure out who he is and how credible his story pans out,” McKinley said.
“Yeah, good idea, and I’m sure that by ‘surveillance team’ you mean us, right?” she asked with a grin.
“Of course, if you want it done right, you got to do the job yourself.”
She nodded in agreement. “Absolutely. So, when do you want to get started on this new lead?”
“We need to get to the ME’s office to get the report of the final cause of death and then finish working through the list of potential witnesses we have to confirm Mr. Doe’s allegations about that night. Something about him doesn’t seem right. He was too cautious, too meticulous about saying too much or not enough. As if he was being coached somehow.”
“Yeah, I got that sense too. However, he is implicating himself and most people in that neighborhood seem to keep quiet about what really goes on around those parts.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” McKinley said.
Coolidge looked through her briefcase and pulled out her notepad. She seemed to be going over her notes. “Did you notice the watch he was wearing?”
McKinley furrowed his brow, wondering about the relevance of the watch to the case. “No, what did it look like?”
“I can’t be certain because I’ve never seen it before. I happened to catch a glimpse of it when he reached for the voice recorder. It peeked out from his suit.”
“Coolidge,” McKinley said alarmed, “out of all the times you start a scene you couldn’t have pointed it out to me sooner?”
McKinley stopped the car and watched as Coolidge shrugged. “McKinley we’re in the middle of the freeway. You want to get us killed?”
Honking horns erupted from behind them but McKinley was transfixed by what he just heard.
“Do you realize that could’ve been a big lead? Fuck, Coolidge. Sometimes…”
“My bad. I thought you saw it too. What, you wanted me to casually start a conversation about watches or grab his arm and demand him to tell me about where he got the watch?”
“No, you’re right. It would’ve been impractical for us to say anything in regards. But at least you could’ve created a diversion to see it again or nudged me to alert me.”
“Awesome, next time I’ll think of those things to get your attention.”
“Anyway, we can’t do anything now. I just thought that maybe we could’ve used that to find out about him. I saw a watch the other day, well, never mind. It doesn’t matter now.”
“Was he the same guy that was wearing this watch?”
“No, John Doe has dark skin and a beard, the guy I saw the other day—Nixon—had fair skin and was clean shaven.”
“Okay, well, get in contact with this Nixon character and ask him about the watch.”
He sighed. “I can’t because then I’ll have to tell him who I really was and tell him about what we were doing. I don’t want to give any details about the case to anyone not involved.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She sighed. “I’m beginning to wish we would’ve stayed in San Diego on Senator Dempsey’s case.”
McKinley looked at Coolidge, who had sunk into the passenger seat. He placed the car in drive as a small vehicle passed him repeatedly honking. “Yeah, but it’s not like we had a choice.”
She pursed her lips and nodded.
They drove back to the sheriff’s office to finish off the four remaining witnesses on their list.
They arrived at the sheriff’s office and proceeded to the conference room. They were confident that they were moving somewhere and that the rest of the witness list would guide them in the right direction.
Coolidge dialed the number for witness seven and placed the call on speaker. Witness seven answered and when Coolidge introduced herself the person on the receiving end hung up. McKinley dialed the number again and the call went to voice mail.
Witnesses number eight and nine had provided fictitious phone numbers and no other contact information was provided for them.
Witness ten only had an address but it was not local. It was a location in New Orleans. Coolidge contacted their New Orleans FCCA division to drive over to their residence to get a written statement from them.
They waited for a response from the New Orleans division and an hour later Coolidge and McKinley were informed that the location was an abandoned hotel building near the airport in Kenner, a suburb of New Orleans.
“Fuck, the only lead we have is sketchy at most,” he told Coolidge.
She slid the notepad and the witness list across the table in frustration. He watched her as she stood up, agitated, and started pacing the small room.
“I know. Our last case was not this cryptic. It was too easy almost. It was an open-and-shut case,” she said. “I felt like that would’ve been the same for the senator’s case.”
“Indeed, even though we didn’t have a lead to begin with, the people we did find as witnesses were cooperative and eager to help. The people here are not agent-, police-, or any uniformed-official-friendly for that matter. Which gives us a great disadvantage as they will not talk or give us any information.”
She stopped pacing the room. She stood holding the back of the chair silent. Thinking. Then her phone rang and she answered it quickly.
“Hi, Mom. Yes, I’m fine, well, a little agitated but I’ll be okay. How’s Rocco doing? Yes, I know he’s a good dog but I still have to ask about him, Mom. I miss coming home to him. I’m not sure how many more days I’ll be here but I’ll call you back once I’m in the ho
tel room. Love you too.”
It amazed McKinley how sweet Coolidge got when she spoke to her mother, but then switched it when she spoke to him. He watched as she placed her cell phone in her suit jacket and looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said.
“Yeah, it’s a disadvantage how Huntersville citizens are so closed off,” she said.
And just like that Michelle switched to Agent Coolidge when she ended that call.
His brow furrowed and he realized that she was replying to his last comment. So he nodded and watched her.
She shrugged. “We can’t let that be a wall in our path. It’s getting late. We should go to the ME’s office tomorrow morning to find out about the final cause of death for all three victims.”
“Yeah, I’m exhausted.” He figured she wanted to speak to her mother and probably to Rocco as well.
They gathered their things and headed back to the hotel. They’d made no new progress but at least they had something they could work with, even if it wasn’t a sworn statement from “John Doe.”
Chapter 13
“Good afternoon, we represent Southern Specialized Pest Control and we were contacted by the neighborhood’s association committee for a possible termite pest outbreak. We’ve inspected and sprayed a total of ten homes in the community and this complex is next on our list,” Barbara informed the guard.
Disguised as pest control exterminators, Nixon and Barbara waited at the entrance while the guard confirmed their identity.
An older gentleman, he looked like he should be sitting at home enjoying his retirement. His snowy hair, his sunken green eyes with bags underneath, and the tired look on his face made Barbara feel a little sorry for him. She didn’t want to be that old and still be trying to make ends meet. His light blue uniform fit loosely around his body, which made him look sloppy at best.
“Oh, yes, the association representative informed us that pest control was arriving next week,” the guard said. He looked at them, confused.