Seeking the Truth

by Terri Reed

  “Will the officers be able to gain access to the building?”

  “No. The front door is locked.” Yvette motioned she’d go downstairs. “My neighbor will let the police in.”

  “I’ll make a note of it,” the dispatcher said. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  As Yvette hurried down to the lobby, Rachelle explained about the attack and that she believed it was the same man who’d pushed her off the subway platform earlier that day. “Can you inform Chief Jameson of the NYC K-9 Command Unit?”

  She wondered if Carter would be told. She hoped he’d want to see that she was okay, but she knew he was angry with her and probably wouldn’t care.

  And that left her feeling hollow inside.

  * * *

  “Sweetie, go wash up and we’ll have a snack,” Carter told Ellie as they entered the apartment they shared with Noah on the top floor of the three-family house. Jordy’s widow, Katie, had the second floor, and their parents had the ground level. Zach used to occupy one of the bedrooms in Carter’s place, but after his marriage to Violet Griffin, he moved out with his bride. So now the room was a catch-all for stuff they weren’t sure what to do with.

  Frosty went to the water bowl in the kitchen and lapped greedily at the cool liquid. Carter didn’t blame him. The heat and humidity was brutal in August.

  “Okay, Daddy. Be right back.” Ellie ran down the hall to the bathroom, slamming the door in her wake.

  Carter winced but decided to refrain from getting after her about closing the door more gently. It was a constant battle.

  Remnants of Ellie and Noah’s tea party littered the small living area and kitchen space. Apparently, Noah hadn’t taken time to clean up before leaving for the precinct. Resigned to taking care of it, Carter washed the tea set and placed the tiny cups, saucers and teapot on the dish drainer to dry. Cookie crumbs were scattered across the top of the miniature purple dining table in the center of the living room and on the rug. With a shake of his head, he vacuumed up the mess. When he turned off the vacuum, he heard the chime of his cell phone.

  Carter glanced at the caller ID. It showed Noah’s private line at the precinct.

  Ellie ran into the living room. “Can I watch my show?”

  Distracted, he nodded and answered the phone. “Noah?”

  “Hey, just thought I’d let you know Miss Clark was attacked in her apartment building.”

  The news sliced through Carter. Guilt flooded the wound. “What happened? I thought Faith was escorting her home.”

  “She did. All seemed fine, so Faith left.”

  As he would have. The NYPD didn’t have the resources nor the manpower to provide around-the-clock security for any one person. Almost afraid to, he asked, “Is Rachelle okay?”

  “Yes. Shaken. A neighbor scared the guy off.”

  Relief soothed the inner chaos a bit. “Is she at the precinct?”

  “No. Officers are with her at her apartment.”

  Pacing, Carter stated, “Whatever hornet’s nest she stirred up by probing into Jordan’s life brought this on.” The grim knowledge made his chest tighten.

  “Agreed.”

  “She’s not safe staying in her apartment.”

  “Again, agreed. She needs around-the-clock protection until we can eliminate the threat to her life.”

  He wondered if her family could afford a private security team. “We also need her research notes. If these attacks are connected to her investigating Jordy’s death...”

  “Yes. Carter, I want you to handle this. Find a way to keep her safe and get the information.”

  Though he wasn’t looking forward to seeing Rachelle again, he knew it was crucial that he press through his own issues with her being a reporter and step up to not only protect her, but also discover why she was being targeted. And he prayed in the process they would uncover the truth of his oldest brother’s death.

  “Text me her address, will you? Maybe Katie can stay with Ellie.”

  “Aren’t Mom and Dad back yet?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll check.” Alexander and Ivy Jameson lived on the bottom floor of the house they’d purchased to raise their kids in. For years the two upper-floor apartments had been rentals, until the four brothers were ready to have their own space.

  As the oldest, Jordan, and eventually Katie, had taken the second floor, while Carter and his late wife, Helen, had taken the top floor. But then Helen passed, leaving him to raise Ellie alone. Noah and Zach had moved up from their parents’ apartment on the first floor to live with Carter and Ellie.

  “Sending you Miss Clark’s information now.”

  A short ding announced the arrival of the text. “Got it. Heading over there ASAP.” He was glad he hadn’t changed out of his uniform yet.

  Carter clicked off the phone with his brother. “Ellie girl,” he said, tucking his phone back into the pocket on his vest. “Let’s go downstairs and see if Grandma and Grandpa are home.”

  Without hesitation, Ellie jumped off the couch and raced to the door. “Frosty,” she said. “Let’s go see Grandma and Grandpa.”

  Frosty was slower to move off his bed, but he happily trotted over to her side and squeezed past her out the door.

  Carter followed the two down the staircase to his parents’ apartment. Using his key to unlock the front door, he heard movement in the kitchen. Ellie raced through the rooms with a squeal of delight. Carter entered the kitchen, where his parents were unloading groceries. Frosty went in for a quick pet before settling on a large dog bed in the corner of the dining room reserved for when one of the K-9s came to visit.

  Ivy Jameson smiled and held out her arms for her grandchild. “Hello, love bug!”

  Ellie jumped into her grandma’s arms. Carter’s heart swelled. His parents had been so great. After his wife passed he had been at a loss, unsure what to do, or how he was going to raise a child on his own. His whole family had stepped up and helped. Especially his parents.

  Carter greeted his mother with a kiss on the cheek and his dad with a hug.

  “Would you to be willing to watch Ellie for a little bit? I’ve been called back in to work.”

  Three sets of eyes stared at him. His father nodded his understanding. The worry in his mother’s eyes churned Carter’s gut.

  Ellie tilted her head. “Are you going to see Rachelle?”

  Carter dropped his chin and stared at his little girl. How on earth had she known? “Yes, honey. I have to talk to her again.”

  Ellie nodded. “You need to help her some more, Daddy.”

  Love for his child swelled in his chest. She was so compassionate. “I will, sweetie.”

  “You could bring her home for dinner,” Ellie said.

  His mother arched an eyebrow. “Rachelle?”

  Before Carter could reply, Ellie said, “She’s a reporter and she fell down. Daddy’s helping her. She’s really pretty and I liked her—so did Frosty.”

  Inwardly groaning, Carter shook his head. “I’m not bringing her home.”

  His mom ruffled Ellie’s hair. “Why don’t you go into the den and set up a board game for us.”

  “Yippee!” Ellie ran off, leaving Carter to face his parents’ questioning gazes.

  “You’re helping a reporter?” His dad’s tone brimmed with incredulity. “They’re piranhas. Why would you want to help anyone in the media?”

  Knowing how frustrated his family had been by the press over the past five months, Carter understood his father’s sentiment. “Dad, she’s in trouble. She’s mixed up in something very dangerous. She’s already had three attempts on her life today.”

  His mother frowned. “That doesn’t sound good, though it doesn’t surprise me. Reporters go snooping around whether they are wanted or not.”

  His mother’s words were so spot-on that for a moment Carter did
n’t have a reply.

  “Can’t someone else help this woman?” his dad asked.

  Carter remembered the look of compassion and empathy on Rachelle’s face when they’d talked about Jordan. He shook off the image. “She’s in trouble and it’s my job to protect her.”

  His mother turned away to handle the groceries. “Let somebody else be her hero. The media have raked our family over the coals enough. We don’t need any more contact with reporters. And there are certainly enough police officers who could deal with her.”

  “I was given a direct order from Noah,” Carter said. “You can take it up with him. In the meantime, yes or no to watching Ellie?”

  His mother paused. “Of course we will.”

  His father came over to him and put his hand on his shoulder. “Use caution. Don’t get caught up emotionally. Stay focused on the job.”

  He was emotionally involved because whatever Rachelle had stirred up had something to do with Jordan’s death. But he couldn’t say that to his parents.

  “I’d tell you not to worry, but I know that won’t stop you,” he said. “So, I’ll just say Frosty and I will be careful.”

  At the sound of his name, Frosty scrambled to his feet.

  With a morose sigh he couldn’t contain, Carter grasped his dad and gave him a hug. “Love you, Dad.”

  “We love you, son.”

  His mother hurried over for her own hug. “We can’t lose you, too.”

  With a kiss to his mother’s cheek, Carter stepped back. “I’ll let you know when I’m headed home.”

  He paused at the front door to call to Ellie. “Sweetie, I’m going.”

  In a whirl of arms and legs, Ellie ran out of the den, where his parents had a plethora of board games and other toys for Ellie and the next soon-to-be grandchild. She launched herself into his arms. “Okay, Daddy. You be careful and take care of Rachelle.”

  Holding her tight, he breathed in the soft scent of her shampoo. His heart expanded in his chest. “I will.” He kissed her on the top of the head and set her down. With a salute, he and Frosty exited the house.

  With the dog at his heels, he jogged to the department-issued K-9 vehicle that he used to cart Frosty around. He had to park up a couple of houses because curbside parking was scarce in the neighborhood. The short driveway had room for two cars. Katie’s car was already in the driveway. The other space they reserved for Noah. His parents didn’t drive anymore since they preferred public transportation and walking.

  He entered Rachelle’s address into his GPS, hit the siren and headed out.

  When he arrived at Rachelle’s apartment, he was greeted by Officer Faith Johnson and her dog, Ricci.

  “I feel so bad,” she said. “The building was secure. There was nobody else around. I should’ve walked her inside. I knew it, but I had to get back to my other duties.”

  “You did nothing wrong. I’d have done the same thing.” Though his motive for leaving wouldn’t have been for the job. He’d pawned off the duty to Faith to begin with because he didn’t want to have anything more to do with the reporter. Guilt wormed a hole through his conscience. “She’s safe now,” he continued. “That’s what matters.” And he would make sure she stayed that way despite his own feelings.

  Faith nodded, “True. Thank you.”

  He and Frosty entered the building and found Rachelle sitting on the bench in the lobby talking with two plainclothes detectives. A dark-haired woman in green scrubs held her hand.

  Rachelle’s gaze snapped to his and the look on her face nearly upended him. Relief? Joy? She should be angry at him for leaving her in the lurch.

  She rose and came toward him, the dirt on her gray pencil skirt and cream-colored silk blouse stark reminders of how close she’d come to being killed in the subway. The new red abrasion at her throat tied his stomach up in knots.

  Stopping two feet away, she said, “I—You’re here.”

  Frosty nudged her hand with his nose.

  “Noah called me,” he told her as he watched the way her fingers slid through the dog’s fur in the spot behind his right ear that he loved to have scrubbed. At first glance the movement seemed casual, but she was clearly soothing herself as much as the dog. He cleared his throat before he spoke to make sure his question would come out as gently as possible. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  As he listened to her story, concern grew and spread through his chest. “Are you sure it was the guy from the subway?”

  She shrugged. “He had on a gray shirt. I didn’t get a look at his face.”

  The other woman walked up, sliding her arm around Rachelle’s waist. “Can she go to her apartment now?”

  “And you are...?”

  “This is my upstairs neighbor, Yvette Grant,” Rachelle answered him. “If she hadn’t come along when she had I’d be dead.” A visible shiver racked her body. Frosty leaned into her, as if offering his support.

  “Let me confer with the detectives.” Carter stepped aside with the two detectives and they filled each other in on the day’s activities.

  Detectives Sanchez and Walsh introduced themselves. Then Sanchez said, “The guy gained access to the building by posing as a floral delivery man. The forensic tech didn’t find prints on the vase of carnations left in the stairwell.”

  “We’re going to canvass the area and see if we can find where he obtained the flowers,” Walsh added.

  Carter handed them his card. “Keep me updated. I’ll be handling Miss Clark.”

  The detectives nodded and left the building. Carter went to Rachelle. “Let’s go get your things. You can’t stay here.”

  “She can stay with me,” Yvette offered.

  Shaking his head, Carter said, “She needs to be away from this building. The assailant knows where she lives.” He turned his gaze to Rachelle. She stared at him with what appeared to be shock and confusion. He explained, “We need to get you out of the city. Do you have family somewhere we can call?”

  Seeming to absorb his words, she tucked in her chin. “No, I’m not calling my family.”

  His heart twisted in his chest. He wondered what the story was there. Obviously, they weren’t close. He couldn’t imagine life without his family.

  “I’m not leaving New York.” There was a stubborn glint in her eyes that didn’t bode well. “I don’t mind going to a hotel.”

  He sighed. “Let’s discuss this in your apartment.”

  With a frown, she headed for the elevator.

  “This was just a trick to make me take the stairs.” She yanked the Out of Order sign off the door and pushed the button. A second later, the doors slid open. She stepped inside, tapped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you coming?”

  Exchanging a glance with Frosty, Carter muttered, “This is going to be fun.”

  FIVE

  When the doors opened on the fourth floor, Carter and Frosty put a hand up to prevent Rachelle from stepping out first. He made sure the hallway was empty, then held his hand on the elevator door to keep it from closing. “We’re good.”

  Rachelle quickly turned and hugged Yvette. “Thank you so much. You are a blessing.”

  “Be careful, okay?” Concern laced Yvette’s voice.

  “I will.” Rachelle clung to her for moment, then stepped back.

  Yvette shot Carter a quick glance before saying to Rachelle, “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

  Rachelle nodded and stepped out of the elevator car. The door shut behind them. Without a word, Rachelle led Carter and Frosty to the last apartment at the end of the hall. He had to admit he admired her strength under pressure. The woman had a spine of steel.

  She dug into her purse for her keys. With shaky hands, she attempted to unlock the door.

  “Here, let me.” As Carter took the keys, his fingers brush
ed over hers. She was cold, no doubt still reeling from the most recent attack. He slid the key in the lock and opened the door.

  She hurried to block the way. “It’s small,” she warned. “We’re not tidy. I have two roommates. They share the bedroom. My domain is the living room.” She bit her bottom lip, her cheeks pinkening.

  Carter shrugged. “I’m not going to judge you. I live with a messy six-year-old. I just need your notes and you need to pack a bag.”

  Looking unconvinced, she moved aside so he could enter first. Frosty sniffed the air, then lay down, indicating there was no discernible threat.

  Carter barely refrained from whistling. Okay, this was messy, beyond what three men and a six-year-old could do, back when Zach still lived with him, his daughter and Noah.

  In a flurry of apparent nervousness, Rachelle grabbed the clothes on hangers dangling from the ceiling fan and hung them in the entryway closet. Then she righted the sofa bed, which had been out and unmade.

  The dining room table had stacks of notebooks and loose papers, pens and highlighters, covering every square inch. Up against the wall was a freestanding whiteboard written on with notes and arrows and circles. There was a small kitchenette and a short hall with two closed doors, presumably the bath-and bedroom.

  The place was hardly big enough for one person let alone three.

  Moving to stand beside the dining room table, she gestured to the disorganized chaos. “Everything I have on Jordan’s case is here.” She gestured to the whiteboard. “And here.”

  He joined her by the table, taking in the looping cursive covering the pages. “You do all your notes by hand?”

  “I have some things on the computer, but I think better with pen and paper. I do all my first drafts by hand, then type them in.”

  He couldn’t imagine taking that time or having the patience to work that way. He hated doing his reports. He typed by hunt-and-peck. If he had to do them by hand, then type them in, he’d... Well, it would make for a very bad day.

  “I don’t know how we’ll get the board out of here with just you and me,” Rachelle said. “You might just want to take pictures of it.”