by D. A. Brown
A patrol officer had let her past the crime scene tape when she identified herself as a detective, and David’s ex-wife.
“Don’t got too far in. It’s a mess,” he’d said.
“Oh, God.” Jess stopped in the doorway.
The room was a chaotic jumble . Either David was a first class slob or someone had tossed it. A few laptops lay scattered across the floor. An unmade bed, the sheets crumpled into a ball against the wall, and a small desk, were the only pieces of furniture. The strong smell of sweet cologne lingered in the air. It wasn’t a run-of-the-mill aftershave either. She’d never known David to use cologne - he had a sensitivity to perfumes and strong scents, that always made him congested.
David’s body had come to rest against a wall, his head hanging on his chest.A gaping hole was left where the round had exited the back of his skull and passed through the plaster. A blood trail on the wall followed his head to the floor. He’d been standing against the wall, like a traitor facing execution.
Sophia hunched down to look at his face. He was barely recognizable. Tiny white fibers clung to the entry wound in his forehead. His white tee shirt was soaked with blood that dripped down to his blue jeans. The pool of blood on the floor was strangely deformed as though it had fallen on something in a slightly rounded shape - something that wasn’t there anymore. Both of David’s arms were splayed open as if in one last effort of surrender.
A bloodstained pillow lay on the floor next to him, a smudge of blood surrounded a bullet hole. No wonder his landlady didn’t hear anything. The killer had used the pillow as a silencer.
Sophia had been almost clinical in her attempts to guard her privacy and here she stood, a few feet away from her ex-husband’s body, and she was about to become a witness in his homicide investigation. She was going to have to tell homicide detectives that she was waiting to meet him at the coffee shop. The past was once again going to consume her present.
Sophia felt as though she was intruding, as she always did at a crime scene, peering into the most private of places at the worst of times.
She’d hated him for so long it was difficult to feel anything. But she knew better than anyone, the emotions were there, waiting to come to the surface.
“Hey, you doing OK?” Jess touched Sophia on the arm. “You want to step out and wait for homicide?”
“I guess.” She continued to survey the room, hoping for a clue, a dropped weapon, a shoe print.
Something. Anything.
“Let’s go out and get some fresh air. They’re going to want to talk to you, anyway.”
Sophia took one last glance at David’s body. “Sure.”
Rain had started to fall in sheets. Sophia and Jess got into the car and turned on the engine to get the defroster going.
“This has to be related to my case.” Sophia took a deep breath.
“So let me get this straight. He told you that he knew something about the Halifax case but he couldn’t just tell you over the phone. Didn’t he come to your house? Why didn’t he just tell you then?”
Sophia pushed a wet tangle of hair back from her face. “He said he had to show me something. I got the impression it was something on a web site. He didn’t want to use my computer. Honestly, I thought he was full of shit, that he was just using it as an excuse to see me. Before a few days ago, I’d had zero contact with him. I thought he was either dead or had moved back to California.” The adrenaline was beginning to subside and a heavy fatigue was settling in.
“Oh, lucky you. Here comes Taylor from homicide. He’s a real piece of work.”
Drew Taylor was one of three homicide sergeants. He was famous for stonewalling on every case and brewing up a contemptible reputation as an asshole just for the sake of it. Sophia had run afoul of him when she was a new patrol officer, making the big mistake of telling a reporter that she was responding to a homicide just as she got out of her patrol car. Taylor hated the press so much that he took delight in holding back as much information as he could, even going so far as to give a fabricated cause of death to some rookie who promptly dropped the nugget on a local reporter. The station manager was furious when his ‘exclusive’ turned out to be as far from the actual facts as possible. It took the department’s media unit months to mend the damage.
Sophia stepped out of the car.
“Detective Benedetti, what are you doing out here?” Taylor pulled up his hood and looked past Sophia at the front of the house. Rain ran down the front of his cap.
“It’s a bit of a long story.”
“Make it as long as you want. I’m on overtime now. You can talk to me all night.”
“The victim is my ex-husband, was my ex…”
“Ok, must say I didn’t see that coming.”
“Nor did I.”
“And…?”
“And he called me out of the blue a few days ago and told me he had some information for me on a case I was working…” Sophia looked at Jess.
Two homicide detectives came up the walkway. They were the on-call guys, not necessarily the ones who would investigate the case. Sophia knew them both. Terry Shriver was in his late forties and recently widowed. His partner, Rodney Stringer was pretty new to homicide.
“Sorry to interrupt. Have you been in there yet?” Shriver didn’t acknowledge Jess or Sophia.
Taylor nodded in the direction of the house. “Just got here. Go ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Rodney smiled at Sophia but kept walking.
Sgt. Taylor turned to Sophia. “Feel free to cut to the meat of this, Detective.”
“I was supposed to meet him for coffee this morning over on Queen Anne.”
“So you two were not on good terms?” Taylor smiled.
“No, we actually weren’t on any terms. I hadn’t heard from him in over two years.” Blood began to course to Sophia’s face. Taylor knew full well what had happened between her and David. Everyone on the department knew the story. It was department lore.
“Any idea who might have wanted him dead?” Taylor started walking to the house ahead of Sophia. She waved off Jess and pointed to the car.
“Well, if he had something that implicated a suspect in my case, then I guess that would be a start. But I don’t even have a suspect yet. I’ve just started working it.”
Sophia steadied herself down the stairs to the basement. Moments earlier, she’d been fine. Now she struggled to summon the will to remain detached.
“I hope this doesn’t bother you to come back in here, detective.” Taylor looked over at Sophia. “If it’s too much for you, we can do this back at the office.”
Sophia took another deep breath but kept her eyes off David. “I’m fine.”
“You know, I’ve been through a few wives and a couple of them were raving bitches, I mean absolute cunts.” He slid on a pair of latex gloves and leaned over David’s body. “But I can’t say that I’d ever want to see them like that. Poor bastard.”
“Hey sarge. Look at this.” Stringer waved Taylor over. Sophia followed.
Holding his flashlight to a bullet hole in a kitchen cabinet door, Stringer opened the door and ran his hand over the back.
“Bastard dug out the round.”
“Make sure you take a hard look. Maybe it ricocheted somewhere.” Taylor yelled over his shoulder. “Anyone find a casing yet?”
“Nope. But this place is a mess. It could be anywhere,” Shriver said.
“Someone wanted to make sure they weren’t identified.” Taylor looked at Sophia and frowned.
Sophia suddenly wanted to leave, to stand out in the pouring rain with her face to the sky so she could cry without anyone knowing.
“Tell you what. Why don’t you head back to your office and I’ll have one of my guys call you for an interview.” Taylor pulled out his cell phone.
“And don’t worry detective, I don’t really think you did this. But hey, we gotta do that old due diligence, don’t we?”
Sophia and Jess barely sp
oke on the way back to headquarters. She let Jess drive, fearing she was too distracted to make the short trip without running someone over. Her reaction to the surgical strike of David’s homicide surprised and alarmed her. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to work murder cases. She’d only responded to murders as a patrol officer. There was no crossover on the department. You worked the cases assigned to you based on the crime. If a homicide had a sexual assault component, homicide worked it. Sexual assault detectives only worked rapes and child abuse cases. She wouldn’t be allowed to work a case in which the victim was known to her, but still - Taylor was one of the sergeants who had to approve her transfer. This could change his opinion about her readiness.
“That was awkward.”
“Give yourself a break. Taylor’s an asshole. You did fine.”
“I don’t think he likes women.”
“He likes women but only the ones he thinks he can get into bed.”
“I wasn’t very strong out there.” Sophia laid her head back against the head rest.
“You were a rock star.”
Sophia laughed. “I’m not sure I’d go that far.”
“Name one other officer on this department who’s had to deal with something like.”
Jess was right. Sophia wanted to find the bastard who killed David herself. There’d be nothing left of him when she was done.
It was a little past one o’clock when they arrived at the office. It was Friday, so the hallways were empty, most detectives having skipped out early to golf or hit the bars. The rain was going to make the bar a lot more likely destination. She was relieved she wouldn’t have to answer a million questions.
As soon as she and Jess rounded the corner into the bullpen, they ran into Pierson.
“Walker from homicide was looking for you.” Sgt. Pierson said.“What do those guys want with you?”
“We sort of fell over a homicide, ” Jess said.
“Who’s dead?”
“My ex-husband.”
Pierson looked at Sophia for a long time. He mouth twitched as though he was suppressing a smile. Then it went slack. Even he could see by the look on her face that Sophia wasn’t joking.
“I’m sorry.”
Sophia told him about David’s visit to her house, the thumb drive and the crime scene.
“I see.” Pierson leaned against the wall and buried his hands in his pockets. “How did he die?”
“One shot to the head.”
Pierson grimaced. “Go talk to Walker and then take the rest of the day off.”
Guys on the department said a lot of shitty things about Pierson, but he usually had the sense to realize when detectives had reached a breaking point.
Detective Avery Walker sat at his desk reading email.
“You were looking for me?”
He stood up and grabbed a legal pad. “Let’s go some place more private.”
“Here is fine. I’ve got nothing to hide nor do I think I’m going to be able to tell you much that’s going to be helpful.”
“Have a seat then.” He pulled over another detective’s chair.
The homicide unit was surprisingly open. Given the sensitive nature of the cases they investigated, it was a bone of contention with many of the detectives that they didn’t have an enclosed and secure space to work their cases.
“So what’s your relationship to this incident again?”
“The victim was my ex-husband.”
“Right.”
“But you knew that.” Sophia crossed her arms and looked at Walker.
“I got a very quick brief from one of the guys at the scene.” He made a note on his pad.
Sophia made it easy for him. She knew the questions he had to ask and she gave him a running narrative. They were done in under an hour.
As she reached her desk, her cell phone rang. It was Tommy.
“What the hell happened, Soph?” His voice was hoarse.
“Where are you? I just had the most fucked up day and it would have been nice for you to have been there.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.”
“Don’t.”
“What happened to Montero?”
“I don’t know. He was supposed to meet me. He didn’t show.”
“Aren’t you leaving something out?”
“I’m really not in the mood.”
“Ok, so he’s dead. What does his death have to do with our case? My cell phone is blowing up with calls from guys on the department.”
“Screw it. People can talk to me if they want to know what happened.”
“For fuck’s sake, I took a day off. I had some shit I needed to do. It’s not personal. I can take time off without permission from you or anyone else. Jesus, I’m just trying to find out how you are. If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine.”
“Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow.” Sophia hung up the phone.
If it was related, David’s death had changed the dynamic of her case. But knowing David, he could have been involved in a million other things that could have produced the same outcome. She’d long suspected that when they were still married he was not just programming software or re-building computers for his geeky buddies. He had lots of unexplained income that found its way into a bank account he didn’t know she’d discovered by accident. They’d fought about money often. He was furious about how much she made, how she could supplement her income by working off-duty while he had to scrape by working under the table repairing computers for friends. He hated being the one with the shitty job. Despite his protestations to the contrary, he was still inextricably bound to his macho hispanic heritage. He was a failure. A failed cop and a failed breadwinner.
Sophia swung by Candy’s house and picked up Bodhi. Her tail could barely keep up with her wiggling butt. The dog could get her to smile even in the worst of moments.
Sophia’s cell phone was on vibrate but she still heard it buzzing on the counter in the kitchen. She glanced at the number. It was the Chief Dispatcher. The CD only ever called when something was a high priority or a sensitive incident.
Sophia picked up.
“Homicide’s out on a reported kidnapping. Your name came up on the call. Does the name Grace Halifax ring a bell?” He clicked over to radio before Sophia could answer, updated a robbery call and got back on the line.
“She’s victim in one of my cases.” The sound of several other voices competed for the dispatcher’s attention. “Who’s reporting her missing?”
“The mother, I assume. The call is a cluster.”
“This whole case is a cluster,” Sophia murmured.
“Now a homicide sergeant is asking for you to call the office. Here’s his cell.”
Sophia scribbled the cell number on a post-it pad. “Thanks.”
She hung up, and pulled her jacket over her sweats. She didn’t even want to know how bad she looked. Thank God I work mostly with men. No one will even notice what I’m wearing.
Bodhi nuzzled her leg as she dialed Stinson. She stroked the dog’s neck.
“Ok, first off, I’m sorry for being a bitch earlier. Secondly, I need you to meet me at the Halifax house. Ginny Halifax is reporting that Grace has been kidnapped.”
There was music in the background of Tommy’s phone. “Not a great time, Soph.”
“Stinson, I don’t give a shit if you are about to stick it to Cindy Crawford. I need you to come in.”
“Cindy Crawford is way too old.”
“Stinson!”
“I’m having dinner with my daughter. Give me an hour. That’s the best I can do.”
“Tell Tina I’m sorry I busted up some father/daughter time.”
“She’s used to it. Drive carefully. Lot’s of fruits and nuts on the road.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Halifax house was overflowing with cops, some taking copious notes, others hanging out in front waiting for something to do. True kidnappings were extremely rare and when they involved a child, ev
ery cop in the city wanted to help.
Rumor had it that the FBI had been called in to consult but so far, the scene was mostly guys Sophia recognized from SPD.
Ginny Halifax sat on the couch in her pristine living room, surrounded by her white furniture. Her eyes settled on the group of detectives and patrol officers oblivious to the ‘no shoe rule.’ George sat next to his mother, hands folded in his lap. When he recognized Sophia, a slight smile lit his face but it was vanquished by a stern look from his mother.
Ginny stood up and lunged towards Sophia. “This is all your fault, you bitch. You went to Barrett’s school and harassed him and now those sickening people, those… those creatures, took my Grace.” Tears streamed down her taut face.
All eyes in the room fell on Sophia.
From behind Sophia came a familiar voice. It was Tommy.
“What people you are talking about, Mrs. Halifax? Where’s your husband?”
“I haven’t been able to reach him. I assume he’s in surgery.” She settled back down on the couch. “And those people,” she said, “are the animals that Barrett is exposed to at that school.” She put her arm around George’s shoulder and pulled him close.
Ginny Halifax was the kind of woman who hated other women. Sophia turned back to Tommy and let him take the lead. In other circumstances, she might have challenged Ginny.
“I think we need to talk to your husband, ma’m. You know, just to make sure there’s no misunderstanding here. Maybe he’s with your daughter.” Tommy pulled out his phone. “What’s his cell number?”
Ginny Halifax rattled off the number. One of the homicide guys moved over to her and squatted in front of George and let him hold his badge.
Tommy stepped into the foyer. Sophia followed, squeezing by three patrol officers. Tommy signaled for Sophia to come closer.
“I don’t think she’s been kidnapped. I think she’s been taken somewhere by the family because they don’t want her to talk to us. I’ll bet you my left nut she’s with the father. Or he knows where she is. And I think Barrett’s in on it.”