by Jordan Dane
“And you better give me your keys to the van,” she added. “Jessie will need her wheels. Preferably a vehicle not reported as stolen.” When he looked confused, she added, “It’s…complicated.”
“Yeah…well, I’m not exactly in the mood for complicated.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “You’ve been a good friend to Jessie. She could use one.”
He slumped against the door of the ambulance, looking exhausted. When he winced in pain, she took it as a sign for her to leave him alone. A real pity.
“Well…I’ll make sure she gets these.” She jingled the keys in her hand. “You take care of yourself.” She reached out a hand and touched his face. The gesture surprised him, but when he looked at her, he smiled.
“Yeah, sure.” He nodded. “And thanks…Alexa.”
With Sam at his side, Ray escorted Jake in cuffs to a waiting officer, who took the man into custody. Breathing in the night air had revived her, but not half as much as seeing Ray up close and feeling his hand at the small of her back. Considering what had nearly happened, she felt lucky to be alive. And although having someone take care of her now wasn’t entirely necessary, it did feel damned good to let go—just this once.
“From his ID, he’s Jake Culver. Get him checked by the paramedic before we take him for a ride,” he told the officer, then pointed a finger at her. “And you’re next. No argument.”
“Yes, sir.” She saluted.
“Detective Garza?” An officer from the tactical team waved Ray over to another squad car. And Sam came along, not wanting to let him out of her sight.
“Thought you should know,” the cop said. “We found a guy on the premises. He claims not to know anything about what happened in there, but he was behaving suspiciously so we’re bringing him in for questioning. He’s got no ID and was not in a sharing mood.”
Sam leaned down to get a better look into the vehicle and a cop flipped on an interior light. She squinted into the backseat, but smiled and shook her head at the man who avoided her eyes.
“That’s Sal Pinzolo.” She stood and told Ray and the other officer. “He’s muscle for Nadir Beladi, a major drug dealer who runs hookers, too. Jessie thought the guy might have something to do with Mandy Vincent’s murder and gave me his driver’s license to run.”
“What?” Ray asked. “How…never mind.”
He narrowed his eyes and smirked—probably realizing that she’d been keeping secrets on Harper’s case—her attempt to edge him out on their bet.
“Yeah, and he might have been the guy who tried to kill me inside, but I can’t swear to that. I was pretty messed up, not seein’ real clear.” She winced. “But if the fire crew finds charred remains inside, then I’d have serious doubts about who I saw. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“That son of a bitch,” Ray cursed, and glared at Pinzolo. “Are you sure you can’t ID the bastard?”
“Sorry. Wish I could.” She sighed. “But if I know Jessie, she probably has some theories on what happened. I’ll bring her in tomorrow…see if she learned anything from Jake while they were locked up. Alexa, too.”
“Good idea. We’ll get a chance to sweat these guys during interrogation.” He stroked her hair but turned toward the other cop. “Keep this joker separated from the guy I arrested, especially at the station house. I don’t want him playing intimidation head games.”
But when Jake got into the back of the next police cruiser, the interior light came on, and the bartender got a good look at the man in the next vehicle. Pinzolo glared back. Sam knew by the look on Jake’s face that Pinzolo had delivered his message without using a word.
“Too late.” She nudged her head and Ray caught Pinzolo staring at Jake. “I’d say the damage is done.”
“We’ll see about that,” he assured her. “If this asshole is involved, we’ll get them talking.”
She had faith in Ray. He was a solid interrogator. But Beladi and Pinzolo had evaded the DA for a reason. Once they lawyered up, it would be business as usual. And Jake didn’t have the backbone to be more than an expendable pawn in their game. If it turned out any other way, she’d be surprised.
She had her mind on the job when Ray took her hand to lead her to a paramedic. He was taking charge of her well-being, and she was happy to let him. But having Ray holding her hand made it difficult to suppress a smile, even though she gave it her best shot.
And failed miserably.
Jess found it hard to turn away—the fire mesmerized her. It had become addictive, with an unrelenting pull, similar to the torturous hold Danny Ray Millstone had had on her…until now.
A part of her wanted to watch the bastard’s place burn to ashes with no remnants left except for the scars she would always carry, both inside and out. Fire crews had moved in to control the blaze, but the old mansion had fallen. It would no longer stand as an affront to the life she’d made.
“Alexa made sure Max got home okay.” Sam interrupted her melancholy moment. “And she gave me the van keys that she got from Harper.” She handed her the keys. “I’d say she’s been a nice addition to your circle of friends.”
Jess took a deep breath, unable to look away from the dying blaze.
“Yeah. I agree,” she said. “And I might have to rethink how I feel about Ray Garza. The guy’s growing on me…like a tumor, Harper would say.”
Jess tried to smile, but her heart wasn’t in it. Her thoughts still plagued her.
“Can you come by the station house tomorrow?” Sam asked. “We’ll need your statement…see if you can help us piece this together. Sal Pinzolo was arrested on the property.”
“What?”
“He claims not to know anything about what happened, but anyone connected to a guy like Beladi has his own agenda.”
“Yeah, especially that mean bastard.” She crossed her arms, and added, “Jake had a lot to say in there. If he’s smart, he’ll keep talking. And Harper could use the help.”
Jess thought of the implications of Pinzolo getting caught red-handed on Millstone’s property. He could have come to kill Jake on the orders of Beladi and set up the dumb jerk for the murders to throw suspicion off his employer. And someone had started the fire and locked them in that room with the door bolted shut from the outside.
Adding Pinzolo to the equation—killer turned arsonist—gave her theory a certain plausible ring. But that left her wondering about motive. Had Jake told her the truth about having a side business that Mandy found out about? Did Beladi and Pinzolo uncover the enterprise that Jake ran under their noses and come for their pound of flesh? And who had been the brains behind framing Harper?
She had a feeling the case would hinge on what the bartender had to say. Surely, Jake would see that telling the cops what really happened was his best insurance to stay alive, even if he had to implicate himself. If he served up Beladi on a platter to the DA, he might get an offer of witness protection and start a new life somewhere else. She didn’t like the idea that Jake could get off scot-free, but that option was the lesser of two evils.
Men like Beladi and Pinzolo had to be stopped.
“You want to stay with me tonight?” Sam offered. “I don’t want you to be alone…not after what happened.”
“No…I’ll be okay.” She glanced at Sam. “Besides, you might get lucky. I saw how Ray looked at you. And from where I stood, the feeling looked mutual.”
They watched the fire in silence. Jess knew Sam had her own demons, that had started the day her life crossed Millstone’s path. And she couldn’t think of anyone else that she’d rather share this moment with than Sam—a woman who’d risked her life to save a friend.
“You know, Sammie. Nothing says ‘I love you’ more than running into hell for a friend. Hallmark doesn’t make a card that says ‘I’d die for you,’ but maybe they should.”
“I didn’t run into a burning building thinking I was gonna die, Jessie. I only wanted you to live.”
Despite all they’d been
through tonight, Jess had to smile. “The only good thing that ever happened here…was that I met you.”
She put her arm around her friend and watched as Danny Ray Millstone’s mansion burned to the ground. Jess felt the heat radiating on her skin, heat that would purge away only a fraction of her ordeal. In her heart she knew her nightmare would never end—the psychological wounds had cut too deep and would remain—but seeing Millstone’s legacy go up in smoke had given her closure to a part of her life she wanted to forget.
Like the phoenix from Greek mythology, she felt reborn to a new life she had earned, rising out of the ashes of her degradation—a resurrection that would be forever grounded in pain.
People say that whatever doesn’t kill a person makes them stronger. But for her that wasn’t much consolation when the lesson came at a price she never wanted to pay.
CHAPTER 29
Next morning
After she and Alexa made their formal statements to the police, Jess convinced Sam to let them observe part of Jake’s interrogation from behind a two-way mirror. Ray joined them. In a dark room, they watched as Jake went through the motions. His arrogance was gone, replaced by his fear of an unknown future. He looked pale under the lights and slumped in his chair like a whipped dog.
But Jess hadn’t felt sorry for the bastard. She had come to the police station for answers, especially where Seth’s own future was concerned. What she discovered was something she didn’t expect. Jake had confessed to everything, letting Seth off the hook for murder. After the hospital released him, Harper would be free to go. And she couldn’t have been happier.
Yet her relief over his good news was tainted by the fact that Pinzolo had become Mr. Teflon.
“It’s too early for this.” Alexa took another gulp of coffee.
“Yeah, tell me about it.” Ray heaved a sigh, clearly not happy with the situation. “Pinzolo lawyered up. But we didn’t have enough to file charges on him anyway. We cut him loose this morning. And Jake is too stupid to see that using the same lawyer isn’t in his best interest.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Jess grimaced.
“Wish we were,” Sam added. “And whatever intimidation game Pinzolo played on Jake is protected under attorney-client privilege.”
“This is insane,” she ranted. “What happened to Jake’s story…the one he told me? He could be a witness for the DA against Pinzolo and his boss.”
“That’s why I think Jake was played,” Ray clarified. “He kept his mouth shut until his lawyer showed. The next thing we know, he’s saying that he killed Desiree because he found out she was still seeing her ex-boyfriend.” He turned toward her. “And when he got wind off the street that you wanted to question Jade, he decided to kill her. He’s in there making his formal statement now.”
“So why frame Harper?”
“He claims Harper was set up out of pure meanness. A fit of jealousy over the time he spent with Desiree. The kid smacked of money, and he wanted to put him in his place.”
“No, no way.” She crossed her arms, shifting her gaze between Ray and Sam. “This wasn’t a crime of passion about jealousy. Hell, Jake’s no Casanova. And like I said, he told me Mandy found out about a business he was running on the side…right under the devil’s nose. Now I can’t see him taking on Beladi and Pinzolo alone, but then again, stupidity is more Jake’s speed.”
“I second that.” Alexa raised a finger.
“Hey, I believe you two,” Ray said. “But he hasn’t corroborated Jessie’s version of the story. And a written confession aces any rendition of ‘he said she said.’ Not that it matters, but did anyone else hear Jake confess?” He pointed to Alexa. “Did you?”
“Sorry. Can’t help you. I was down for the count,” the blonde said. “But even if I was willing to lie—which I do quite well by the way—it wouldn’t add up to much with dick-for-brains in there willing to confess.”
Jess clenched her jaw to temper the rage churning in her belly.
“She’s right.” She glared at Jake in the next room. “Max won’t make a credible witness, and no one else but me heard Jake. Plus, I’m guessing any good defense attorney would say my relationship with Harper is plenty of motivation for me to accuse someone else.”
“If we can’t get Jake to turn state’s evidence against Beladi and Pinzolo, then Sal will walk away from this a free man.” Sam sighed. “Nothing definitive places him inside that house. And without a real confession from Jake, we can’t pin those murders on Pinzolo as an accomplice either.”
“This smells like a cover-up, but I’m missing pieces to the puzzle.” Jess shook her head. “Someone had to lock us inside that room. The door was bolted from the outside. That’s attempted murder. And my gut tells me Pinzolo set that fire. What about an arson charge?”
Now she was grasping at straws, scheming for any way to lock Pinzolo up.
“The arson investigator is our next stop.” Sam nodded. “He’s giving us his preliminary findings. Very unofficial. But maybe he’ll give us something meaty to chew on. I’ll let you know. Call me later.”
“Yeah…thanks.” She nodded.
“Oh and before I forget,” Sam added. “A private investigator, Luís Dante, came in to file a report…said you stole his car. When he heard what happened, he dropped the charges. But he told me to say that you owe him a beer. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah…sort of,” she muttered. “Thanks, Sam.”
Rapt in thought, Jess left the observation room with Alexa, heading for the parking lot. Sal Pinzolo walking away clean made her skin crawl. She’d faced him before and witnessed his cruelty, especially when he had the advantage. She’d have to watch her back. Next time, he wouldn’t settle for a beating.
“Well…one good thing might come of this,” Jess observed with a sideways glance.
“Oh, yeah. What’s that?”
“Jake will be out of the gene pool.” She shrugged. “Darwin’s theory is intact.”
Alexa raised an eyebrow. “I feel better already.”
Sam walked into the meeting room with Ray, noticing that another man stood in the far corner, waiting for them to arrive. Dressed in uniform, arson investigator Captain Joe Collins, was a tall, lean man with alert blue eyes and short-cropped dark hair, cut military style. By reputation, he was a quiet man and an unconventional thinker with a penchant for details. Good qualities for an investigator.
“Good morning, Captain. Glad you could make it.” She smiled. “I’m Detective Sam Cooper, and this is Detective Ray Garza.”
Sam liked him the instant he shook her hand with a firm grip, not the limp grasp some men thought women preferred.
“Call me, Joe.” A corner of his lip curled into a half smile.
“First names work for us, too,” she said, offering the man a seat at the conference-room table. They sat as she began. “I know this is much too early in your investigation to make this official, but anything you can tell us might help move our case forward.”
“Well, bottom line, nothing I found thus far points to arson,” the captain said. “To put out the blaze, fire did their basic surround and drown, lots of water dumped. And as you might imagine, any trace evidence got hit with it, too. I used arson dogs to detect the use of accelerants, and they came up empty. But let me ask you a question…since you were inside.”
“Yeah…shoot.” She nodded.
“Was there any room in the house that seemed like the source of the blaze…an area that was more engulfed in flames than the rest of the house?” the man asked.
“Yeah, toward the back on the first floor, near the room that had been bolted shut.” She crossed her arms and fixed her gaze on the arson investigator.
“In a vacant house with no electricity, fires don’t start by accident, especially if the fire was concentrated the way you describe. That raises a red flag for me as an investigator.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you remember smelling anything unusual at that location?”
She thoug
ht about it a long moment, delving into the horror of last night. When she didn’t answer right away, Ray leaned closer.
“Sam? What are you thinking? Just spit it out. Say the first thing that comes to mind.”
“I smelled something”—she wrinkled her nose—“medicinal. But I couldn’t place it.”
“Could it have been rubbing alcohol?” Collins asked. “Or some other household product?”
“Yeah, it could have been. Why?”
“The dogs in our K–9 unit are trained to detect certain types of petroleum-based accelerants, but not the entire range of flammable household products.” He shook his head, his face grim. “Isopropyl alcohol is water soluble and can be washed away. No trace evidence left behind. If your firebug used rubbing alcohol or some other similar product to set that blaze, then I’m afraid we’ll never prove it.”
“Don’t you have other ways to test…for the presence of rubbing alcohol, at least?” she asked.
“Dogs can smell the smallest unit of measure better than our electronic detectors can quantify,” Collins explained. “In short, if the dogs fail, then we don’t have much. Plus our K–9 unit is only a tool in our investigation. We confirm anything the dogs find with trace analysis from the crime lab. But in this case, that didn’t happen. We’re still talking to possible witnesses, but I’m afraid arson is a long shot.”
The captain got to his feet. “That’s all I’ve got, but I’ll call if that changes.”
“It is what it is, Joe.” Ray stood and shook the man’s hand. “Thanks for coming.”
“Anytime,” Collins said as he gripped Sam’s hand.
After the arson investigator left, Sam stood and stared out the window, disappointment setting in. Ray shut the conference-room door to give them privacy.
“What now?” he asked, his voice low. “We got nothing on Sal Pinzolo. I can still work Jake under the radar of his lawyer if you want. But with Pinzolo on the loose, I know you must be concerned for Jessie.”