Justice Delayed

by Patricia Bradley

  “Why does he allow bad things?”

  Maggie sighed. “I don’t know. And sometimes what looks bad at first turns out to be a blessing in disguise. Like your dad.”

  “What are you talking about? How could my dad’s heart attack be a blessing?”

  “You said he had a blockage in his main artery and no symptoms. A lot of men die from that kind of heart condition. But they discovered his and fixed it because he had a heart attack.”

  She hadn’t thought of it that way.

  Maggie tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “You know, God isn’t waiting for us to mess up so he can ‘get us.’”

  “Feels like it to me sometimes,” Andi said with a hollow laugh.

  “He’d much rather we depend on him and not get in the mess in the first place.”

  “You sound like Treece. She’s always on me about running ahead of God.”

  “She sounds pretty wise.”

  “I suppose.” She thought about the pills in her purse, how she had come to depend on them but couldn’t depend on God. Maybe it was time to change that. She pulled the sun visor down and checked the traffic behind them to see if anyone was following.

  “I hope we find Jillian, but with only a town and a post office box, I have my doubts,” Maggie said.

  Andi flipped the mirror up. She did too. “I’ve done some checking, and I didn’t find any trace of her anywhere except for a Facebook account that had no posts, no photos, nothing—except a city on the other side of the state from where she lives. It’s almost like it’s a plant.”

  “I think she’s hiding from someone,” Maggie said.

  “So do I. And I think she holds the key to this whole case,” Andi said as her phone rang. The hospital. Her mind automatically went to her dad, ratcheting up her heart rate. “Hello?”

  “It’s me, Chloe.”

  Andi’s heart slowed as her muscles relaxed. “How are you?”

  “Better. They’re moving me to a safe house today.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Um . . . I really need to see you before I leave. I . . . I did something really bad.”

  “Oh, Chloe, I’m sorry, but I’m on I-40 and an hour away from Memphis. But it can’t be that bad. Can it wait until I get back?”

  “I’ll be gone.” She sounded close to tears.

  “Can you just tell me?”

  “I’ll try. You see, I . . .” Silence followed, then a deep sigh came through the phone. “I can’t do it. Just be careful and I’m sorry.” The line went dead.

  “That was strange,” Andi said.

  “Who was that?”

  “A runaway I tried to help and ended up getting her shot.” Andi dialed Treece’s number. When she answered, Andi said, “Can you go to the hospital and talk to Chloe? She just called and wanted to tell me something in person, but I’m too far away from Memphis to turn around and come back, and she’s being transferred to a safe house later today.”

  “I planned to visit her this morning.”

  “Good. See if you can get her to talk about it.”

  “Will do. Are you all right now?”

  “I’m fine.” She was still disappointed in Will.

  “I talked with Will. He hates what happened, and he wrapped the sculpture really carefully before he left with it. X-raying won’t damage it.”

  “I don’t want to discuss him. He had no right accusing Stephanie of smuggling. She wasn’t the only flight attendant living in the house.”

  “That’s just it. He believes they all might have been involved.”

  “You’re kidding.” She glanced to her left. “Even Maggie?”

  “No, only the flight attendants. Did you know they all flew internationally?”

  She did. What if Will had been right? The man who broke into her apartment was looking for diamonds, and in spite of what she’d said to Will, no one but Stephanie could have put the diamonds in the sculpture.

  Was it possible her sister really was a smuggler?

  David surveyed the ceramic studio. A fireplace took up most of one wall, and a sofa sat near it. A worktable was in the center of the room, under the light. A potter’s wheel was positioned near the door, and in a small adjacent room were five-gallon buckets. Glazes, he suspected. Dried up, for sure.

  Dust coated everything, and had even before the crime scene unit dusted for fingerprints. He was told they’d gotten good photos of shoe prints, but that was all. The burglar hadn’t thought about the dust from years of neglect and hadn’t seen the footprints he left behind in the dark, although they would have to be separated from the ones left yesterday.

  “This was my great-grandparents’ first home,” Brad said, standing beside him. “And the only reason my dad didn’t tear it down after Stephanie died out here.”

  That explained why there was a fireplace in such a small building. David tapped the mantel, looking for a hidden compartment, but it sounded solid. He turned around.

  “Where do you want to start?” Brad asked.

  “File cabinet, I suppose, unless you know of any place your sister might hide something.”

  “I wasn’t into clay—too busy playing sports—but Andi was out here all the time. Let me call and see if she’s remembered if Stephanie had any secret hiding places.”

  David wandered over to the file cabinet and opened a drawer. Nothing but glaze recipes, invoices . . . He closed it and opened another.

  “Andi didn’t remember any secret places,” Brad said, “but she’ll call back if she does.”

  “Any word on whether any evidence was recovered at her apartment this morning?”

  “Just like here, no fingerprints. Oh, and by the way, if my mom happens to come out here, she hasn’t been told about Andi’s break-in. Or any other details of this case.”

  David gave him a thumbs-up. “Did anyone other than your grandparents live here before it was turned into a ceramic studio?”

  “Mom and Dad. They lived in it while our house was being built. Personally, I thought it was a waste of a good apartment for my sister to use it for a pottery studio. But Dad didn’t want to go to the expense of putting in heat and air—it’s cooled with fans and heated by the fireplace. Not that it bothered Stephanie.”

  David laughed, then turned and caught Brad staring at the fireplace, an expression of wistfulness on his face.

  “She pit-fired her art pieces in it. Sometimes I wonder if she’d lived whether she’d be this famous potter by now.” He looked away. “Sometimes I wish Dad had torn down the studio.”

  David understood why, and he certainly would have understood if Tom Hollister had torn the building down. After his wife’s death, David would have moved out of their house if it hadn’t been for uprooting his daughter. Still thought about it sometimes, even after five years. “I’ll start with the filing cabinet.”

  Brad nodded as his cell phone rang. “It’s Treece.” He answered and listened. “Right now?” he said. “Okay.” He pocketed his phone. “She wants me to come to the hospital and talk to the girl who was shot Wednesday night.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll keep working.”

  “I won’t be long.”

  After Brad left, David started with the file cabinet, going through every piece of paper. An hour later, he dragged a two-step footstool to the cabinet and sat down to go through the bottom drawer.

  A shadow crossed the door, and he looked up, recognizing Brad’s mother. She was petite like Andi but with lighter hair. She frowned, clearly not remembering him. “Mrs. Hollister, David Raines. We met at a fundraiser once.”

  “Oh, now I remember, Lieutenant, and call me Barbara,” she said. “Have you discovered the reason someone broke in to the studio?”

  “Not yet.” She seemed reluctant to enter the building. “You can come in, if you’d like. The crime scene unit is finished.”

  “I’ll stand here.” She flattened her lips but scanned the room from the doorway. “This is the first time I’ve looked inside s
ince that night.” She took a step back. “If you need anything, I’ll be in the house.”

  He followed her outside. “Do you know of any hiding places in the studio?”

  Her mouth relaxed, and a tiny smile tugged at the corners. “Stephanie didn’t realize I knew she’d found it, but yes, there is one. Tom’s grandfather built this house, and he made a hidden compartment in the mantel. It’s where he used to keep his cash. Steph kept her diary there. I never read it, of course.”

  He hated to ask her to come back inside. “Could you tell me how to find it?”

  She squared her shoulders. “I’ll show you. I just realized how silly I’m being by refusing to enter the studio.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Yes, I do.” She marched through the door to the fireplace. “It’s right here.” She turned a piece of molding on the mantel, and a thick panel slid back. “What’s this?” she said and pulled out a sheaf of papers.

  “Here,” he said, examining the two-inch board that hid the opening. No wonder it didn’t sound hollow when he tapped it. The grandfather was a smart man. “I have on gloves, let me take them.”

  When she handed the papers to him, he spread them out on the table and scanned the writing. “Is this Stephanie’s handwriting?”

  Barbara peered over his shoulder and caught her breath. “Yes. Those are the cities she used to talk about flying into.” Suddenly she straightened up. “Do I need to leave since this is police business?”

  “You don’t have to leave, but maybe you shouldn’t read this.”

  “I understand,” she said and backed away.

  David returned to the papers. There were four pages with writing on front and back, and they looked like some sort of log. The last page contained a journal entry.

  Jillian is upset. But I know she’s taking diamonds out of her shipments and replacing them with inferior rough stones. JD will be furious when he finds out when I go to the FBI.

  I should never have let him talk me into bringing those diamonds into the country, but at least I only did it once. I should have gone to the FBI then. What if customs had searched my purse yesterday? I can’t believe he stashed those diamonds in my purse. He’ll come back tomorrow looking for them, but I’m taking them to the FBI. Until I do, they’re safe in the horse sculpture. Can’t tell Laura

  He looked for another page, but there wasn’t one, and he flipped back to the first page and tried to make sense of the log.

  Delivered to AJ:

  Paris—November 10 - 3 - SH

  Paris—November 12 - 5 - JB

  Paris—December 3 - 9 - L

  Paris—December 10 - 10 - JB

  Paris—December 20 - 9 - L

  The list went on. As he studied the pages, his heart sank. Will believed the four flight attendants in the house were smuggling diamonds into the States. David had hoped it wasn’t true, but what if this was a log of their activities? SH had to be Stephanie, but her initials appeared only the one time. JB must be Jillian Bennett. The two Ls listed—was that Laura or Lacey? And who was AJ?

  29

  WILL LEANED FORWARD to view the image on the scanner. The stone Andi found showed clearly along with two more in the horse’s belly.

  The tech beside him whistled. “That’s a good-sized diamond.”

  “Looks like it’s about the size of a quail egg.”

  The tech pushed a button, and a scale appeared. “If a quail egg is an inch and a half by three quarters of an inch, yeah. How many carats do you suppose that is?”

  He forgot Carl was a total city boy. Will pulled up a website on his tablet that showed photos of uncut diamonds and their cost. After converting the size to millimeters, he said, “According to this, eighteen to twenty carats.”

  “But you won’t know until you weigh it,” the tech added.

  And that was his problem. He’d promised Andi he wouldn’t destroy the horse. He found a comparable rough diamond on the website and scrolled down to the price.

  Forty to fifty thousand dollars? That couldn’t be right. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the screen again.

  Carl looked over his shoulder. “Are you kidding me? The stone we’re looking at in that horse might be worth forty-five thousand dollars?”

  “I don’t know.” Will dialed a gemologist he knew and described the rough stone. “I believe it was smuggled into the country.”

  “The shape sounds like an octahedron, and it’s probably high grade, since no one would go to the risk and trouble of smuggling inferior diamonds,” his friend said. “You say it’s about twenty carats?”

  “I can’t weigh it, but according to the dimension we’re getting from the scanner, it should weigh about that. And there’s two more, half that size.”

  “I really need to see them, but a ball park figure—if the clarity is good and the right shape—it could easily be worth around forty-fifty grand, twenty-five for the smaller ones. Maybe more, depending on their quality.”

  “What would they have been worth in the late nineties?”

  “All three of them . . . Again, this is just a rough guess, probably in the neighborhood of seventy or eighty thousand.”

  Will thanked his friend and hung up. Money like that could easily get someone killed. He rewrapped the horse in bubble wrap and locked it in the property room, hoping it wouldn’t get broken. Andi was already furious with him, and if anything happened to the sculpture, she’d never forgive him. Might not anyway.

  He checked his watch. Eleven. He’d have to hurry to catch the insurance investigator.

  He was approaching the I-240 split when his phone rang, and he pressed the answer button on the steering wheel. “Hello.”

  “Will, it’s Treece. I’m at the hospital with Chloe, and she just told me she set us up Wednesday night.”

  “What? Never mind, I heard you. Did she say who was behind it?”

  “She doesn’t know. Her pimp had Chloe call and get Andi to meet her that night. Chloe didn’t know they were going to attack us.”

  He flipped on his right signal and took the loop that would take him by the hospital. “I’ll stop on my way out of town. Call Brad and get him to meet us there,” he said. “But do me a favor. Don’t say anything about the diamonds and Stephanie. I want more information before I tell him.”

  “Brad’s on his way, and I won’t say anything.”

  Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the hospital parking lot and hurried inside. Brad and the marshal were already in Chloe’s room when Will walked through the door. The fifteen-year-old’s face was ashen.

  “Am I in trouble?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Of course not,” Brad said. “We just need to ask you a few questions.”

  “I don’t know anything except I heard Jason talking to somebody on the phone, and then he made me call this number and talk to Andi. He told me if I’d do it, he wouldn’t sell me to this other guy.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I didn’t know anyone would get hurt.”

  “It’s okay.” Treece wrapped her arms around the girl.

  “Where can I find this Jason?”

  “I don’t know,” she wailed. “I don’t know where anything is in Memphis. I got off the bus somewhere downtown, and Jason kind of protected me when this other guy harassed me.”

  And the next thing the poor kid knows, she’s hustling. Will turned to the marshal. “What time is Chloe supposed to be transferred to the safe house?”

  “Late this afternoon.”

  Brad spoke up. “I’ll get Reggie to bring mug shots of local pimps and see if she can identify Jason from any of them.”

  “Good. One of you call Andi and let her know. I’m meeting a TBI agent on the other side of Jackson about Larry Ray Johnson’s pickup.”

  Brad gave him a curious glance. “I’ll walk out with you.”

  “Sure.”

  As they rode the elevator to the lobby, Brad asked, “Do you have time to run by the studio? David is already
there, and the crime scene unit should be through by now.”

  “I don’t have time. I’m meeting the TBI agent at one. Besides, Andi is the person you want—she spent a lot of time in the studio, and she might know where Stephanie kept things she didn’t want others to see.”

  “Andi’s on her way to Doskie, Tennessee, wherever that is.” Out on the sidewalk, Brad stopped him. “What’s going on with you and Andi?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There could be only one reason you’d ask me to talk to Andi for you—there’s a problem between the two of you. What gives?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on, I’ve been watching you two. You’re obviously falling for her, and I think she feels the same way. What happened?”

  Will tapped his fingers against his leg. He wasn’t ready to get into this with Brad, but when he called his sister, she’d probably tell him. “This morning . . .” He didn’t want to do this.

  “What?”

  “Andi found a rough diamond in the horse sculpture, and I found two more with the scanner.”

  “Diamonds in that ugly sculpture of Andi’s?” Brad rubbed his forehead. “How did diamonds get there?”

  Will suppressed a groan. Why couldn’t this wait? It was enough that he’d probably lost Andi over it. He didn’t want to lose his friend today as well. “Look, you’ll have to either wait or ask Andi. I don’t have time to explain.”

  Will started to walk away, and Brad grabbed his arm. “Wait a minute.” Then his eyes widened, and he sucked in a breath. “Are you—”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Will planted his feet. “I told Andi I thought Stephanie was smuggling diamonds.”

  “Do you have proof?”

  “Not yet, but last night I came across an article about diamonds being smuggled into the country by airline employees. And Lacey mentioned diamonds in one of the letters she’d started to Andi.”

  “I have to think about this.” Brad took a step back, and then suddenly he exploded.

  Will saw the punch coming and ducked, but he wasn’t quick enough. Brad’s fist caught the side of his cheek. Will grabbed Brad’s wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. “I’m not fighting you.”