Redemption Lost

by Cindy M. Hogan

  “Where were you between the hours of eleven and one last night?” One of the detectives asked.

  So, she’d only missed the introductions then. Good.

  “I was here.” His voice was calm, collected.

  Christy’s eyebrows shot up. That was a lie—she’d watched Alvarez arrive well after one a.m.

  “Is there anyone who can corroborate that?” The other detective asked.

  “What’s this all about?” Alvarez asked.

  “Sir, can anyone corroborate that you were here?”

  “The staff here, I suppose. I never left my room. Why?” The alarm in his voice was rising.

  “Your aide, Bradley Durham was found last night.”

  “Oh, thank the heavens,” Alvarez said sounding giddy. “Where did you find him?” So, Mrs. Alvarez hadn’t managed to get ahold of him. Christy listened intently, his reaction could be telling.

  “In his apartment, dead.”

  “What?” Alvarez said. “That can’t be. Did you say, dead?”

  “Yes. His girlfriend found him last night.”

  “No. No. This can’t be.” Christy wanted to turn around and watch, but thought she might be seen. She needed to hear the entire interview.

  “Sir, do you know anyone who might want to harm him?”

  “No.” Alvarez’s voice was sharp. “Everyone loved him.”

  “We understand the relationship between an aide and a senator can be close. Could you take a minute and think about that? Anything might help.”

  The senator did pause. A very long pause and then said, “Dead?” like it was a question.

  “Was he acting different over the last a little while? We were told he wasn’t at work for several days this last week.”

  No response.

  “Sir?”

  “No,” he said again. “No.” The words came out as cries, pleas almost.

  “We only have a few more questions.”

  “No,” Alvarez said. “I need to call my wife. Go home. No. I’m sorry,” he said absently. “I need my wife.”

  Christy peeked behind her. She couldn’t hold back anymore. It didn’t seem the interview would be going on much longer, and she had to see his face. One look would tell her if his sadness was real. But he was turned away, his head down in his hands until he stood suddenly.

  In a flash, Christy stood and moved the chair back where it belonged, took a seat, and looked away from the door. It opened and Alvarez said, “I’m sorry. I need to get home. I need to call my wife. We’ll have to talk later.” He shuffled out of the room.

  “He was pretty broken up,” one detective said as they exited the room.

  “Yeah. I think we can probably mark him off as a suspect.”

  “Not yet. He still has some things to clear up first.”

  “He didn’t seem like a man who’d committed murder. He was distraught.”

  “Only time will tell.”

  The detectives disappeared around the corner.

  The senator had lied. He hadn’t arrived at the hotel until after one. If the camera above the door was working properly, they should have a picture of him entering. She remembered though, that when he entered, he was wearing a hoodie. The only reason she’d known it was him was because she had seen him put that hoodie on. He was hiding something, and she needed to find out what.

  Chapter 6

  CHRISTY

  Christy swapped her rental car for the black Camry. She needed to get back to the city—to the crime scene. She stopped at an outlet mall and bought some detective-looking clothes—a blue button-up and khakis—and picked up a little breakfast, a muffin and some orange juice. Somehow once she had them in her hands, they were no longer appetizing and she set them aside.

  Marybeth’s friend was dead and Alvarez was hiding something. Had Alvarez killed him? Why did the police see him as a possibility? She hadn’t wanted to tell Marybeth that little detail over the phone. After she talked with Mikelle, she’d have that meeting with Marybeth.

  Slowly, the landscape changed, and houses and businesses popped up all over, getting thicker and thicker until she turned off the freeway and headed into Bradley’s neighborhood. He lived in a small apartment complex with only sixteen tenants.

  The entire parking area and grounds were blocked off, and a whole slew of reporters were corralled in a little section of sidewalk out front. The detectives would be tight-lipped about certain pieces of key evidence on this one, and she needed it all. She got as close as she could to the apartment building then pulled out her binoculars to assess the scene. If they hadn’t taken away the body yet, she might have been able to snag much-needed information, but she wasn’t that lucky. The crime scene was being picked over, recorded, and assessed by a bunch of people in white suits. Ace would have to help her get her hands on the photographs of the scene.

  Christy would have to go in and act like she belonged, schmoozing up to the investigators in order to get the information she needed. She took another good look at the scene to decide on an entry point and which investigator she would target. That’s when she saw her. A girl, hunched over, her arms folded across her chest, sat on a set of steps at the opposite end of the building. She was surrounded by one male detective with short cropped hair standing in front of her and another, who looked very similar, only with brown hair instead of blond, sitting beside her.

  The girlfriend. Mikelle.

  She had found Bradley. Christy most likely didn’t need to talk to anybody except for her. She gave them half an hour to move away from the girl so she could move in.

  She didn’t have to wait that long. A guy in a white suit came over to the two detectives and led them over to the site where Bradley had been found. The detective with blond hair said something to the girl before leaving her there. She didn’t move, just sat there. Christy grabbed the orange juice and muffin she’d neglected to eat and headed over to Mikelle.

  “Make way,” she said as she walked toward a couple of the officers protecting the area. She gave them no more than a quick glance as she brushed past them and went straight for Mikelle, the untouched muffin and orange juice in her hands. They didn’t even question if she belonged.

  As she passed, she heard some of the officers discussing the case. Apparently the M.E. had declared the time of death as the day Bradley had gone missing. Christy gritted her teeth. He’d been dead the entire time they’d been looking for him. They’d never had a chance.

  Mikelle’s head hung low. She probably stayed on the step not because she wanted to, but because the detectives told her she must. Christy bent down in front of her and held out the muffin and orange juice. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

  Her eyes flicked up to the proffered breakfast. She had to be ravenous despite what she had experienced.

  “No, thank you,” she croaked.

  “It’s okay to eat,” Christy assured her. “It’ll make you feel a little bit less hollow.” She moved the food and drink a fraction closer to the girl. She reached up and took them.

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you mind?” Christy indicated the spot next to Mikelle, and she shook her head. Luckily, the stairs were wide, so she had plenty of space to sit without crowding her. She wanted to be close enough that Mikelle could feel comfort in her presence, but not feel overwhelmed.

  Mikelle took several bites of muffin and drank about half of the orange juice.

  “The detectives are going to be caught up over there for a little bit. You want to maybe walk behind the building to get away from all the madness?”

  “Sure.” She stood up.

  Christy hollered at the nearest officers, “When the detectives come back, could you let them know we’re in the back?” The two officers nodded. Mikelle finished off the muffin as they walked behind the building to a little playground tucked way in the back, but she set the drink down on the picnic table as she passed it by to sit in one of the two swings on the playground. She rocked gently back and forth, and
Christy took the other swing. “We want to catch the guy who did this. Sometimes, starting over and telling a new person everything that happened makes you remember details that will help in the investigation. Do you think you could tell me? One more time?”

  Mikelle looked sideways at her. “Do I have to?”

  “No. But if you want us to find who did this, then you might want to.”

  She shook her head and closed her eyes. When they opened, they were brimming with tears. “You’ll never catch them.”

  She knew who it was. “Wait a minute. You know who did this?”

  Mikelle froze. Her rocking stopped and she shivered.

  She was scared.

  “Listen. We can protect you. I know you know who did this. If you tell me who it was, we can catch them. And until we do, you will be safe.” She’d get Division to put a protection detail on her as soon as the interview was over.

  “No!” Mikelle blurted, her fidgeting hands in her lap now. “You can’t protect me. He’s too powerful.”

  Christy took a stab in the dark. “Do you mean Senator Miller?”

  “Miller?” The way she said it, how her brow furrowed and contempt shone in her eyes, Christy knew it was a senator, just not Miller. Her heart thudded hard in her chest.

  “Senator Alvarez?” Why would he kill his own aide?

  Mikelle’s eyes went wide, and she stood up. The swiftness of her movements underlined her fear.

  “Please,” Christy said, reaching out to her and taking her hand. “Don’t leave. I promise you. We can protect you.” She did stop but didn’t sit. “Sit down. Please.”

  Mikelle was shaking so badly, she had a hard time grabbing hold of the chain of the swing.

  “Tell me what you know, so we can get him.”

  She let go of the chain of the swing and rubbed her hands together. “You don’t get it. If I say something, I’ll be dead just like Bradley.”

  “I thought Bradley and his boss had a great relationship.”

  “They did—until a couple weeks ago when he found something out.” She covered her mouth and her eyes flicked around the playground as if afraid someone was listening in.

  “What did he find out?”

  She was shaking her head, her mouth open as she looked up at the sky like she was deciding if she could speak the words. She bit her lip before looking at Christy. “He’ll kill me.”

  “Just tell me what happened. What did Bradley find out?”

  “He was supposed to be perfect. Bradley looked up to him, and he was supposed to be perfect.” The girl wiped her nose on her sleeve. Christy knew one thing for certain, no one was perfect. She didn’t dare interrupt Mikelle, though. Her eyes flamed with fury and fear. “But he wasn’t perfect, and Bradley, he couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t believe he was working for a man who wasn’t honest and would do such a terrible thing.” Christy looked at the front of the building, and the two detectives from earlier were headed straight for them. She only had two minutes tops.

  “It’s now or never,” she said. “We can protect you.” If anyone could, Division could.

  “He was cheating,” she whispered.

  “With the votes? With other senators? Cheating what?”

  She was shaking her head “No. With other women.”

  Would the senator kill for that? “You have proof?”

  “I don’t know.” She started to cry. “He was using his phone somehow. An app or something, to meet up with girls. Bradley found out. He was so angry. He was supposed to be honest and good, but he was a cheater. I told Bradley to leave it alone, to just quit instead. He wouldn’t.”

  “But—did Bradley have proof or something?” Christy pressed. “Something that would incriminate Alvarez?”

  Mikelle nodded. “On his phone. Alvarez wanted it, but he wouldn’t hand it over. He hid it. I bet Alvarez was pretty disappointed when he found it wasn’t on Bradley.” Her voice was bitter, and her jaw quivered despite the contempt she was trying to show.

  Christy watched as Mikelle slipped her hand unconsciously into her pocket, then pulled it out immediately. Mikelle had the phone.

  A voice barked across the playground. “What’s going on? Who are you?” Christy turned toward them. It was the shorter, blond detective who had spoken, and he was staring at her with eyes narrowed.

  “Victim’s advocate. You two scared this girl.” She’d get away with this as long as they didn’t ask for ID.

  “Oh, brother. Who let you in?” The taller officer asked as they arrived.

  “She’s entitled to a victim’s advocate because she is a witness to a brutal act. And you two know that.” She hoped there was something written in the law that supported her claim. She was grasping at straws.

  “Sure, but not before she’s totally processed,” the blond said, but Christy could see doubt in his eyes. He didn’t know the law.

  “She told you everything she knew. She’s been here almost twelve hours. She needs a place to lie down and get away from this.”

  “She’s keeping something from us.” The taller of the two frowned. “And until she fesses up, we can’t let her go.”

  “I’m sure that by taking her to a hotel where she can get a few hours of rest will make her feel more like she can talk to you.” She turned to Mikelle. “Wouldn’t you talk to these men again after you’ve had a chance to rest?”

  She looked at Christy like a lifeline and nodded. “How about I take her up the street to a hotel and get her checked in?”

  The detectives were already shaking their heads. “I don’t think so,” they said almost in unison.

  “You two can come along. I just want her to get the respect and comfort she needs as a victim.”

  “We’ll take her.” The blond took a step forward.

  “And I assume you’ll pay for the room?” Police departments were notoriously tight on funds, and she hoped they’d balk at that.

  “Fine,” he said, finally giving up. “She rides with us over there, though.”

  “Is that okay with you?” Christy asked Mikelle, trying not to let on she was uncomfortable with it.

  “Yes.”

  Christy went with her to the detective’s car. Just as Mikelle reached for the car door, Christy darted a hand out in front of her, pulling the door open herself. Mikelle stepped back, startled, and stumbled into Christy. Christy reached out a hand to steady her. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she apologized, even as she dipped her hand into Mikelle’s coat pocket. “Are you all right?” She pressed Mikelle’s arm with her other hand, giving her sensory input to distract Mikelle from what she was really doing.

  “Um, I’m okay. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to open the door.”

  Christy nodded, pocketing the cell phone unseen. “My fault. Here, let me help you in.” She guided Mikelle into the car and smiled comfortingly as she slid across the seat. “I’ll follow just behind you. Don’t worry—we’re going to make sure you’re safe.”

  Mikelle just stared at the seat in front of her as the detectives got in the car. Christy’s hurried over to her car and waited to follow them out. She would just ensure that Mikelle was taken care of, then she’d get the phone back to HQ. She needed Ace to get on finding out what Bradley had on Alvarez.

  The detectives didn’t move. One of them looked over his shoulder at her—or more accurately, her license plate—then pulled out the car’s laptop and typed furiously.

  They were tracing her car. The ruse was up.

  She started her engine and pulled out onto the road, calling Jeremy as she maneuvered through the streets. “I have a problem.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m going to need an extraction in a few minutes, and Mikelle needs protection like five minutes ago. Wait until you hear.” It didn’t take long for a squad car to pull out behind her, followed quickly by another. In seconds, their lights were flashing and sirens blaring. She slammed her foot on the gas.

  “What did you do?
”

  “I just blew my cover. I’ve got two squad cars on my tail, and I’m sure more will join them soon.”

  “Stay on the line. I’ll get Division. I’m pretty sure it’s Leo that’s in charge of the cars and evasion.”

  She’d never met Leo, but she hoped he was good at what he did. He’d have to be to get her out of this mess. A police car sped toward her, three blocks away in the opposite lane, and she heard the sirens of another squad car coming in the distance. She didn’t have much time. She’d noticed them too late. She would be caught, and Division would be more than pissed.

  She heard several clicks and then Leo’s voice came over the line. “Christy. Take your next right and immediately take a left.” His voice was deep and soothing, that of a radio host on an easy listening or talk radio station.

  The right turn was already upon her and she jerked the car down a one-way street. Cars parked along both sides and two-story brick homes and three-story apartment buildings stood on both sides. After the first stately house, she turned left onto a much narrower road. “I hope you meant alley.” The squad car was now behind her, lights and sirens blaring. The detectives’ car had driven past. They wouldn’t be involved in the chase since they had a suspect in their car.

  “Another left when it comes.”

  The large squad car was gaining, so she waited until the last second to turn. She was back on a one-way street, this one even narrower than the first one. The squad car passed. By the time he took the turn, she was way down the street.

  “Step on the gas.”

  She did.

  “Good. Turn right and speed up again.”

  Christy was alarmed to see the squad car turning onto the main road too. He’d made up a lot of ground. His car had much more power than hers.

  “In three blocks, turn left then right and right again.”

  Three blocks? The cop car would be on her by then. She pressed the gas all the way to the floor even though she was coming up on a light. It was green and she prayed it would stay that way. She sailed through. Three cars were about half a block in front of her and the red light turned green. They needed to get out of the way. As if they heard her, two pulled over, yielding right of way to the cop, sirens blaring, coming up behind them. Frustration filled her. If they caught her, it could set the investigation back, way back.