Wyatt had done a simple background check on him before hiring him, and now he thought he needed to take a closer look at the results, make sure everything appeared as it should and he hadn’t missed anything. Isabella stuttered and brought Wyatt out of his revelry.
“I-I-I heard Denver and my mind just went berserk, thinking of my mother, my job, my whole life there, or was there. Now I don’t know where anything is, and it crossed my mind it might have something to do with me.”
Wyatt looked at her thoughtfully as his mind tried to absorb her important words.
Chapter 24
When his cell phone rang, Dave had just taken a big bite out of an apple while putting sugar in his fifth or more cup—he’d already lost count—of coffee for the day. He really needed to cut down on the caffeine. After answering and listening for a moment, he said, “I’m on my way.”
He closed his cell phone. Having lost his appetite he threw his apple in the trash, grabbed his jacket, and sprinted toward his car.
Only a couple minutes away from the crime scene, he could already hear sirens of fellow police officers on the way. There would be a big showing, especially since this crime involved one of their own.
Dave arrived at the park in a matter of minutes, coming to a screeching halt. Vince Evans and Mark Foster, both homicide detectives, stood outside, away from the large area of the parking lot and woods cordoned off and secured with yellow crime tape. He could see one or two people from the crime scene lab inside the area, a flash every now and then from the photos being taken. Dave got out of his car and walked over to join Foster and Evans.
“Hey, man. You’re not gonna believe this,” Evans said.
“Why?”
“It’s Richards. Detective Wayne Richards. You worked with him, right?”
Dave’s shoulders slumped, and he hung his head. He took a deep breath and two steps backward. He and Wyatt both had worked with him in Vice. They both knew him well. Richards had shocked them all when he put in for a transfer. Married with two small, adorable children, Richards thought he had seen too much undercover and needed to change back into the uniform, thinking it would allow him more time with his family, that it would be his dream job. And Richards, now a patrolman, had stopped at the park at Dave’s personal request.
Dave rubbed his eyes that had, for some reason, filled with some sort of water element. “What happened?”
Evans replied somberly. “While on patrol he called in a stolen vehicle that appeared abandoned. Didn’t hear anymore from him so we did a search, got a Code 4 response. And then no more responses, so we checked out his last location and found blood leading into the woods over there.”
He pointed to where Dave saw the coroner entering the woods. Dave quickly headed in the same direction with Evans following a short distance behind.
The crime scene was clear now except for a couple of forensics officers and the coroner, the surrounding atmosphere somber as many other officers arrived along with the chief.
“You’ll be notified of any new information as it comes along. Only those authorized or directly involved in the investigation are allowed to stay,” Chief Orrin explicitly ordered, directing everybody back to their duties.
Forensics took photos, many, many photos, of everything: footprints, tree scrapings, blood stained grass, and of course, the body, and the gunshot wound.
The coroner did his job while Dave waited patiently nearby. He had worked a number of cases with him and had known him well. Dave knew him to be a straight shooter and approached him to get a straight answer when he stood ready to leave.
“Can you give me a time of death, Doc?”
Doc answered vaguely, “Probably a few hours ago but I’ll know something more definitive once more tests are conducted.”
“Thanks. You’re the best, but we both know you can do better than that. It’s vital that I get a better estimate now. I really need to know,” Dave implored. “It involves another case of human trafficking and a young woman’s life is at stake.”
Doc scrutinized Dave, then shook his head and finally said, “Based on the temperature of the body,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “my better guess would be between ten and eleven this morning.”
Dave looked at his watch and slapped Doc on the back shoulder. “Thanks. I really appreciate it. Please keep me posted with any new information.” Dave turned and hurried to his car.
He leaned his head on his hands on the steering wheel. He tried to make some logical understanding out of a senseless death. According to Doc, Richards died about the same time a patrolman had visited Wyatt wearing his badge. Now that he knew the connection, he just had to prove it—and find the goddamn murderer.
Dave called again and spoke in short and abrupt bursts with Wyatt.
“I’m on my way over. We need to talk about some new developments you both need to know about and I think you should hear it in person.”
Trying to maintain a sense of calm and humor for Isabella’s sake, Wyatt asked, “We’re having sandwiches. Do you want to join us?”
“No, thanks. Unfortunately, I’ve lost my appetite. You better eat up now because after I tell you what I just found out you won’t be hungry either. I can guarantee it. I’ll be there shortly. Bye.” And he hung up the phone.
Dave’s cell phone rang before he had time to put the car in reverse.
“Hi Dave, you sittin’ down?” It was Tim who worked on background searches.
“Why, what’d you find out?”
“Well, a couple things. First, there’s no missing persons report filed on Isabella Donnelly. Second, our operative tells me Spike is just outside your back door in Norfolk. And no info back on Terrell yet, but I’m still working on it.”
“Thanks for the info, Tim. Let me know as soon as you find out anything.” Sighing heavily, Dave closed his phone.
Chapter 25
Wyatt tried to take a couple more bites of his sandwich, but his desire for food waned. His mouth tasted of dry anxiety. He looked sideways at Isabella, who was sitting staring straight ahead and not eating either.
He moved to sit beside her. He was trying to think of something consoling to say to her when she suddenly wrapped her arms around him.
“Something terrible happened, didn’t it?” she said through quivering lips.
Taken aback by her change in behavior, Wyatt tightened his arms around her, gently pulling her back toward him. He could get used to feeling her in his protective arms.
“We don’t know for sure yet. Dave’s on his way here to fill us in. Listen, you already made it through a tough time with your abductors and you’ll make it through this too. You’re stronger than you think.”
He looked in her eyes, lifted a finger to brush away a tear on her cheek. So vulnerable, he thought. He truly loved the feel of her in his arms, and when they’d kissed earlier, he’d almost lost control.
He lowered his lips to her welcoming mouth. Her lips moved beneath his, kissing him back. His heart rate spiked, a sudden kick in his chest thudding vigorously down to his groin. He put his tongue into her hot open mouth, his lips absorbing her like a sponge, while her hands caressed his neck, moving in and out of his hair.
Pushing her down onto the couch, he nibbled on her ear and kissed her neck. Neither heard the sound of a doorbell in the distance. Their hearing dulled, so engrossed with each other’s scents and tastes.
The ringing doorbell, now accompanied by heavy banging, got their attention and simultaneously they realized it came from the front door. They pulled apart and sat up.
“It’s probably Dave, but stay here while I check. I’ll be right back.”
Wyatt walked up the stairs, taking two at a time. He quickly looked out the window and recognized Dave’s unmarked car in the driveway. He saw the look on Dave’s face and knew immediately that something terrible had happened. He opened the door and a somber Dave entered. They talked in the foyer before turning to go downstairs.
When Dave and W
yatt returned to the family room, Wyatt noticed Isabella had piled up the sections of the newspaper. Dave nodded to her and sat on one side of the couch while Wyatt crossed the room to sit down with Isabella as they waited for the bad news they knew would come.
Chapter 26
Dave looked at them, saw Isabella’s swollen, pink lips. He also noticed how comfortable they seemed to be together. He wondered if their bond would be broken with what he had to tell them. He cleared his throat and took a couple deep breaths. He didn’t know any other way to tell them what he had learned except to just say it, put it out there in front of them straight up. He ran his hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his tired neck while looking in his lap. And began.
“First of all, we found some interesting information out about Michael. He was arrested a few years ago on various charges including fraud. He’s also known to have affiliations with a gangster named Spike out of Denver, but he conducts ‘business’ all over the world. We have reliable information from a very trustworthy source.” He looked at Wyatt’s face for comprehension, and when Wyatt nodded, Dave continued. “Spike recently, well as recent as a month ago, moved his operation to Norfolk. He’s expected to leave the area by late Tuesday evening.”
“What does any of this have to do with me?” Isabella asked crossing her arms over her chest, her right hand partly covering her mouth.
Dave took a deep breath. “We think Spike is behind your abduction. He probably hired someone like this Joe person to abduct you, bring you here to Virginia to be delivered to him. He planned to pay someone in Denver for you but left before the deal went down. When he set up in Norfolk, he contacted the kidnappers to make the delivery. And when they attempted to deliver you to him, you escaped. We think Michael could be involved somehow but haven’t quite been able to make the connection.”
“This can’t be happening to me. This kind of thing happens to young women who spend time in local bars and get into trouble. Not someone like me. Not a second-grade school teacher, for heaven’s sake.” She ran a trembling hand through her messy hair and with wild eyes looked back and forth between Wyatt and Dave while thumbing her nervous fingers on her knee.
“How or why would you think Michael is involved in this? He’s just an old boyfriend.”
“He may be involved and only because of his previous association in or with this gang,” Wyatt answered.
“Exactly what is it they want from me?” Isabella asked tremulously.
Dave looked at Wyatt, then back at her.
“Usually, human trafficking is when someone recruits people, transports them, or keeps them as a slave, primarily for sex. Most of the time, they use some kind of force or fraud,” Wyatt explained.
Isabella shrank back into the couch, covering her face with her shaking hands, not wanting to hear anymore, not able to believe, or to comprehend.
“But why me? I don’t understand.”
“We’re still putting it altogether. This is just preliminary information.”
Wyatt reached for her other hand, running his rough fingers back and forth across the top of her smooth silky hand, and she relaxed.
“Dave, tell us what else happened. I know there’s more and I want to hear it all.”
Dave hesitated, and then stuttered. “Remember Wayne Richards, who, who worked Vice about six or seven years ago?”
“Yeah, he got married and put in for a transfer. Why?”
“He, uh, it was his badge number you gave me earlier, remember?” After an awkward pause, Dave looked at Wyatt. Seeing the incredulous look on his face, he continued. “I asked him as a favor to patrol the park this morning. Apparently, Richards did a very good job, too good a job. They found his half-naked body in the woods a short distance from the parking lot, dead from a gunshot wound to the head.”
Wyatt said slowly, “Oh my God! What happened?” When Dave wavered, he continued, “Come on, man, spill it. I need to know.”
Dave, reluctant to say the words, knew Wyatt needed to know. “Richards just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’d been undressed down to his underwear, his uniform removed from the crime scene, along with his squad car. We think whoever shot Richards could be responsible for abducting Isabella. We also think he’s still out there looking for her.”
Wyatt had stood and had begun pacing while Dave was talking. When he realized what had happened, he turned to Dave. “So you think whoever killed Richards and the guy who came here this morning could be the same person? Since he had Richards’ badge on he probably had his entire uniform and car.”
Dave nodded. No words were necessary.
Wyatt sat down. He looked at Isabella. Her face was full of confusion and fear, and tears ran down her cheeks. Good, let’s keep it that way. The less she knows or understands the better off she’ll be.
He reached for and squeezed her hand. She felt a warm sweet sensation of security wash over her. He seemed to be saying, “I’ll take care of you.”
“This guy, this murderer, must be very self-confident to do something like this in a public place in broad daylight. Jesus Christ! And then to have the balls to come here looking for her?” Wyatt said as again began to pace the floor looking from Dave to Isabella.
“That’s what I figure. I think the guy is desperate since he’s got a deadline, a delivery date. He’s expecting a big payoff from Spike for delivering her, and from what we know about Spike, he’s ruthless. This guy has nowhere to go that Spike won’t find him. And once he becomes this violent he’ll take risks, become reckless. And make more mistakes. The more chances he takes, the more mistakes he makes, the more opportunities we have to catch him.”
“What about Richards’ family? How are they holding up?”
“Chief’s on his way over to his place right now to talk to his wife. I know it’s going to be really rough on all of them. They’re a very close family. His wife and kids were his life.”
“I’ll try to help them out financially. I know money won’t help with this kind of loss, but at least they’ll know one of our own cares about them,” Wyatt said.
Chapter 27
Isabella felt numb, strangled, weighted down, and burdened. Her mind was scalded, and her life out of control. She couldn’t understand all the ramifications of what had happened, but she did know a police officer had been killed, a man who loved his job, loved his wife, and loved his adorable children. And it all happened somehow because of her, because she had been abducted and had escaped.
This is my entire fault. But what did I do? I still don’t know what I did to cause this Spike guy to want me. I don’t even know him or anyone in a gang. Why couldn’t he pick on someone else? Why does he want me? None of this makes any sense.
She shuddered thinking about what could have happened to her had she not escaped! She covered her ears with her hands to try to drown out the conflict. She couldn’t bear the thought.
She remembered Wyatt saying something about one of their own. What did he mean, “one of their own”? She stood, her hands becoming fists on her hips, and looked at Wyatt.
“Wait a minute. Wh-what do you mean one of our own?” she asked with tight lips and narrowed eyes.
Wyatt shrugged.
Her voice shook with anger. She was assured he had deceived her. “I asked you if you were a cop and you told me no. Did you lie to me?”
He stood and began to pace again. He picked up his water bottle and took a long drink. He offered a drink to Dave, who declined. Dave leaned back on the couch in a relaxed mode, cavalier but anxious to hear Wyatt’s explanation. Wyatt looked at Isabella, waiting patiently for an answer, her eyes following his every move.
“Remember I told you I grew up with Dave, knew him all my life?” She nodded and he went on, “We, we also worked together. We were partners for about seven or eight years until about five years ago. Then I started working at my father’s company and the rest is history.”
Stunned. Speechless. A feeling of betrayal travel
ed through her heart. She felt as if she listened to the proceeding with a surreal feeling of detached anxiety. While getting to her feet she asked incredulously, her voice cracking, “You mean you’re a cop? You lied to me.”
“I worked with Dave as his partner years ago, yes.”
They stared at each other but neither said anything. She tried to wrap her head around this bombardment of information. She couldn’t believe it. Wyatt had been a cop years ago. She wanted nothing to do with cops. People died when they were around cops, she knew that as a fact. Up close and personal.
“Is that it? Is that all you’re going to say?” Dave asked Wyatt.
“Yes, that about does it,” Wyatt said as he nodded.
“Now that everything’s out in the open, Isabella, I think you should consider coming into the federal protective custody program. You’ll have the entire police department at your dis—”
“No, no, no,” she screamed at him, waving her hands. “I don’t trust a bunch of cops to babysit me, or protect me, as you may call it. People die when they’re around cops!”
Wyatt and Dave exchanged puzzled looks. Wyatt grabbed a soon-to-be-out-of-control Isabella by the arms, walked her back to the couch, and forced her to sit.
She shook all over from anger and fear. She couldn’t breathe, a great feeling of hopelessness washed over her as she felt the familiar ache of loss deep within her heart.
“Why?” he said softly. “Why don’t you trust cops, especially to help you?”
She was quiet for a moment. Then, when she finally spoke, it was in bursts and her voice cracked, brittle with anger. “My father,” she faltered, “died, was sh-shot while in your so-called protective custody program.” She pursed her lips in anger and fisted her hands. “So I know firsthand how well it doesn’t work,” she managed to spit out.
Confer, Lorelei - Deadly Deception (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 11