Justice in Slow Motion (Drexel Pierce Book 3)

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Justice in Slow Motion (Drexel Pierce Book 3) Page 23

by Patrick Kanouse

Drexel pulled out his sidearm. He switched off the safety, but he kept the pistol pointed to the ground as he walked up the driveway. “Sabeen, I need you to step away.”

  She turned and looked at him. She looked back down the driveway to the back yard.

  Drexel walked a few more steps up and saw him sitting in the lawn chair. At least four beer cans crushed around him. In his right hand, he held a revolver—the butt of it on his thigh and the barrel pointed toward the driveway, though not at Sabeen. In his left, he held another beer. Missy noticed Drexel, barked, and then refocused on Sabeen.

  Drexel continued walking forward. “Hector, can you put the gun down?”

  Tears flowed down his cheeks.

  “Do what he says,” said Sabeen.

  “Sabeen,” said Drexel, “I need you to step away.”

  “Do what he says.” Hector spat in front of him.

  Drexel said, “Step away. Now.” He saw her look at him from the corner of his eye. She gritted her teeth, shook her head in a small back and forth movement, but stepped back. Missy watched her and then looked at Drexel. She bared her teeth and barked at him. “Hector, what’s happening? Why’re you doing this?”

  He snorted. “You know why. You fucking did this to me.” He raised the pistol up, but it was still pointing away. It was a dangerous visual aid.

  Drexel heard more sirens. Soon, a half dozen police cars would block roads, and officers would evacuate neighboring homes and surround the man with the gun.

  “I happened to find out about what happened to you.”

  “That’s what I mean. Jesus.”

  “So what’s next? Where does this go?”

  Hector shook his head. Missy barked. “It ends.”

  Drexel waited to make sure Hector had nothing else to say. “It doesn’t have to. You can put that gun down.”

  “You’re going to arrest me.”

  “Yes. Yes, I’m going to have to. But right now, it’s pretty minor. Until you pull the trigger. You pull that trigger, everything changes.”

  “Everything’s already changed. You know it.” He raised the revolver again. Higher, but more aggressively.

  “You need to keep that gun down. Unless you want to drop it. That’d be better.”

  “I’m not fucking dropping it. I deserve to die.”

  Drexel felt the anguish in the man. “You don’t.” He took a deep breath. “What happened to Vickie?”

  Missy barked. A patrol officer stopped a few steps behind Drexel, who risked a look back and gestured with his palm for the officer to stop. When Drexel looked back at Hector, he saw a patrol officer behind Hector, but Missy saw him too and barked. Hector did not notice.

  Hector said, “What? You think I killed her?”

  “You went to the restaurant, Fling, right? To ask for money?”

  Hector nodded. “Yes. I waited until everyone left. I didn’t want anyone knowing. I asked her. She already knew what I’d done. Knew that I’d gone to Hank even. He had told her. She yelled at me. Told me she wouldn’t help. That I needed to tell her mother.” He lifted the can of beer and drank from it. He lowered it and shook it. “Empty.” He crushed the can and dropped it on the ground beside him. He lifted up the cooler lid next to him and pulled out another can. A cube of ice clung to the side of the can as he closed the lid. The ice cube slid down and off as he lifted the beer and set it on his thigh. He opened the can and took a drink. “I left. I left her. She was alive when I left.” He lowered his head. “Oh God, the last thing with my daughter was a fight about how I had failed.”

  “So you didn’t kill her.”

  “No. God no. But I failed her. She told me David Hussain has been more of a father to her. I raised her. I encouraged her. And he’s more of a father?”

  “She was angry.”

  “Si. She was.” Hector took another drink. “But I left. I knew it was a matter of time before Sabeen found out. Before I was exposed as a failure.” His eyes focused on something distant. “When it was just me knowing, I could take it. But… But.”

  Drexel took two steps forward, but Hector snapped his eyes back on him.

  Missy looked at Drexel and then the two patrol officers. She barked.

  Drexel said, “Okay. So you didn’t kill her. I believe you. But you were there close to when she was killed. Did you see anything? Anyone?”

  “Just the fucking flowers. Hank beats her up and sends her flowers. But I’m the failure.”

  “Flowers?”

  “Yeah. On the steps at the back.”

  “Roses?”

  Hector squinted at the detective. “What the fuck does that matter?”

  “Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.”

  “What the fuck—”

  Drexel did not have time until later to register the sequence—and only then as he wrote the report. Missy barked. Hector raised the revolver to emphasize his point. The two patrol officers fired. One bullet slammed Hector in the back through the lawn chair’s mesh fabric. The second hit him above the left nipple. He slumped in the chair, the revolver and beer both fell to the ground. His hands falling to his sides behind them. Missy barked more. He heard Sabeen scream from the road. Drexel switched the safety on as he leapt the fence and ran up to Hector. He kicked the pistol away. Missy barked. Drexel looked down at her and saw a fine spray of blood droplets on her fur. He looked at Hector. The patrol officer that came from behind was calling for an ambulance, but Drexel knew that it was too late. He placed his hands over the hole in Hector’s chest. Hector opened his eyes. They were heaving. “Lirios.” He closed his eyes. “Carajo.” And then they closed. What a terrible last word was the thought that crossed Drexel’s mind as he looked down and saw the wet ring on Hector’s jeans from the beer can. The can itself on the ground and the beer flowing out. But Drexel knew one thing now. He knew who the killer was.

  ***

  Two Internal Affairs detectives, Jesse Coroda and Alison Farmer, and their forensic team arrived at the Hector Lopez shooting scene. Before they had arrived, Drexel had ordered the two patrol officers to separate. They stood in silence in the rising heat, watching the smoldering wood turn to hot ash. Hector’s body lay on the grass where Drexel had moved him and where the paramedics attempted to save his life. They had cut open his shirt, and the sticky electrodes for the defibrillator stuck to his chest and abdomen. Plastic wrappers and gauze littered the ground around his body.

  Jesse and Alison interviewed the patrol officers individually, using the Lopez house to ask their preliminary questions. Drexel watched the forensics team mark the spots where Drexel and the officer behind him had stood. And the spot where the other officer had rounded the side of the house behind Hector.

  Alison walked up to Drexel, with Jesse behind her, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “So we let Eric go. We’ll have more questions for him and Shawn later. But they both say you didn’t fire.” She pulled out a notebook and grabbed her pen to write.

  Drexel nodded. “Didn’t even raise my gun.”

  “Can I have it?”

  Drexel pulled out the Glock and held it out, grip toward Alison.

  She took it, smelled the barrel, dropped the clip out of the gun, and ejected the bullet in the chamber. “We’ll get this back to you later. Tell me what happened.”

  Drexel told the story, including the context of Sabeen calling him and his arrival through to the shooting and subsequent efforts to save Hector.

  “Do you think it was a justified shooting?” asked Jesse.

  Drexel looked at him and then back at Alison. “Yeah. He had a gun.” He pointed to it on the grass. “He was cavalier about it. I told him to stop waving it around. The last time, I can see how it was imminent danger.”

  “But you didn’t shoot.” Alison gave him a thin smile.

  “Maybe because I’m the stupid one.” He scratched his ja
w next to his ear. “My gun was lowered. I was talking to the suspect. It was a calculated move to try to de-escalate the situation. And I knew I had two officers with me, ready to shoot if necessary.”

  Alison nodded.

  Jesse said, “Seems to me pretty clear cut. The super’s not going to be happy about yet another police shooting, but this one won’t keep him up at night.”

  Alison said, “You’re done here. You can go. We’ll follow up with more questions as we have them.”

  Drexel nodded and walked down the sidewalk. Six patrol cars still sat in the road, their blue lights swirling into the humidity and heat. He looked at his phone: 2:34 in the afternoon. He asked one of the officers standing by his car if he could get a lift home. The man, Frank, nodded. On the way to the Ukrainian Village, Frank queried Drexel on what had happened, which the detective obliged with the details he had. After Frank dropped him off and pulled away, Drexel called Victor on the way into his apartment building, telling him he would write the report and send it in later that day. As he entered his home, Hart—always a keen sensor of when his owner has had a rough day—sauntered up to him and walked between his legs and then looked up at him. Drexel picked him up, cradled him, and then petted him between the ears. Hart drifted off to sleep, so Drexel put him down. He then took a long, hot shower, standing beneath the water and contemplating how desperate Hector’s situation had turned, that he had taken money from the man who abused his daughter. A bad bit of luck—no more had wrecked Hector’s life. And now Sabeen had lost both daughter and husband. Drexel could not fathom it. And even with all this death, Vickie’s killer was free. But not for long.

  ***

  Drexel dialed the number for Josie’s, the flower shop that had delivered Vickie’s favorite lilies.

  “Hello, this is Josie’s, and I’m Rick. How can I help you?”

  Drexel introduced himself and explained the reason for his call. Vickie regularly received lilies at Fling, and he wanted to know who that person was. “So I’m hoping you can help me identify that customer.”

  “I know who you’re talking about. He comes in every week. I’m usually working,” said Rick.

  “By every week, do you mean a specific day?”

  “Almost always. Usually Thursdays. Sometimes Wednesday. But mostly Thursdays.”

  “You’re sure its the same person who sends lilies to the Fling restaurant for Victoria Lopez?”

  “Yes sir. The Fling delivery is newer. Before that it was Hussain’s. But that’s been the only change in like two years. So you get to remember the regulars like that. Same flowers to the same person.”

  “Do you know his name?” asked Drexel.

  “That I do not. Weird huh? He always paid in cash. Never thought to ask him his name, but we always said ‘Hello’ like we knew each other more.”

  “What does he look like?”

  “Pretty average looking guy. Shaved head. That’s the only thing that stands out.”

  “Thin? Big? Tall? Short?”

  “Average. Not sure what else to tell you. Other than buying lilies every week is some dedication. Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. This is helpful. When was the last time he was in?”

  “Last week.”

  “Not this week?”

  “Not yet.”

  “For deliveries to restaurants, do you normally deliver to the hostess stand?”

  “Ah, that’s right. We’ve been doing this so long I forgot. Yes, we normally do, but he always insisted on leaving it at the back door. Said he didn’t want to get her in trouble. For a good customer like that, that’s a small thing, right?”

  “Yes, that’s right. Do you have any cameras monitoring the place?”

  Rick chuckled. “I laugh because we’ve recommended it to the owner. But she’s not interested. So no, no we don’t.”

  “Well, this has been very helpful. Thank you.”

  “Sure, sure. Oh, one other thing.”

  “Yep?”

  “I remember he always played around with an electronic cigarette.”

  Drexel smiled. He did not need any more confirmation. Hector’s final words had provided the information to find his daughter’s killer, and Rick had provided the last necessary clues.

  Chapter 31

  Drexel called Adam and told him he had some follow up questions. Adam seemed annoyed but said he would be at the nightclub for a couple of more hours.

  Drexel asked Daniela to join him and arranged for a couple of uniformed officers to tag along. On the way over, Drexel told Daniela about the final encounter with Hector, and his statement about the flowers.

  “So you’re thinking this Adam guy is the killer?” she asked.

  Drexel nodded his head. “Hank couldn’t remember that Vickie hated roses. And he didn’t send her lilies every week. Adam’s been around for years. Several witnesses talked about how whenever Hank was around, so was Adam. Or so it seemed.”

  “So how do you want to play this?”

  Drexel shared his thoughts as he drove them through the mid-day traffic. He pulled the car to a stop across the street and half a block down from the nightclub. The patrol car pulled into a space a few spots ahead. He informed officers Callahan and Pritzker that he did not have an arrest warrant, but he expected a confrontation. The officers nodded, and Callahan said, “We’ve got your back.”

  They walked to the entrance of the nightclub. Drexel knocked on the door, with Daniela standing behind him. He heard the lock mechanism click and thunk. The door opened.

  Hank stood at the entrance. His eyes darted between the four Chicago cops. “What the hell is this? I told you I didn’t—”

  Drexel had not thought that the husband would be at the club, but he took it in stride. “Hank, we’re here to see Adam.”

  Hank’s brow furrowed and he squinted, but he nodded once and stepped aside, holding the door open as the four cops entered. “He’s in there playing with cocktail recipes.” He gestured to the bar.

  Callahan kept a close eye on Hank as he stepped around the officers and walked toward the bar. “Adam, you’ve got company.”

  Adam’s head popped up. “Oh. Detective I thought it was going to be just you.”

  Drexel smiled. He introduced his three compatriots and then asked Adam to step out from behind the bar. He pulled up one of the chairs. They had all been unwrapped since his last visit, but they were still standing in a corner,

  Adam turned off the faucet and grabbed a towel. He dried his hands and tossed it on the bar top. “I’d offer you a taste of a few of the cocktails we’re trying out. Don’t have names for them yet. But you strike me as a straight whiskey man.” He stepped from behind the bar and walked to the chair.

  Drexel nodded for him to sit as he grabbed another chair and sat it across from Adam. Daniela and the two officers remained standing. “How long had you been in love with Vickie?” asked Drexel. He watched Adam’s eyes lose focus—a drifting of his mind outside the immediate context—and then snap back. The detective knew he had his killer.

  Adam looked at Hank, who stood blinking and his attention darting between Drexel and Adam. Adam said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pulled out the electronic cigarette and started spinning it between his fingers.

  Drexel leaned back and crossed his arms. “Come now. We’re in the process of getting the surveillance video from Josie’s. They wanted a warrant to keep it all strictly legal, but I’m sure a judge will give it to us.”

  “Josie’s?” asked Hank.

  Daniela said, “A flower shop. Vickie received weekly deliveries from it, including the day she was killed.”

  Drexel said, “And they always delivered them to the back door. The instructions were specific. Thing is, Vickie tossed them in the trash week after week.”

  Adam slid back in his seat and str
aightened up. “Okay. I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do. You’ve been in love with Vickie for a long time. What, since you first met her?” Drexel shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You loved her, but she was married to this guy, your best friend. So you couldn’t do anything about it. But then you realized, he beat the shit out of Vickie. You acted surprised when I told you. You even gave me the excuse Hank and Vickie gave you, I’m guessing. ‘Oh, that was a car accident.’ But you knew the truth. So what the hell? Why does this asshole deserve this consideration. Yeah?”

  Hank said, “Adam, tell them you didn’t love her.”

  Drexel put his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. He looked right at Adam and said, “Hank, what were your wife’s favorite flowers?”

  “What? What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Adam knows. He’s the only one that got her what she liked. The bald man, sharply dressed with an electronic cigarette showing up every week at Josie’s and buying—?”

  Hank looked at Adam, who looked back at him. “No,” said Hank. “You didn’t.”

  Adam said, “Her favorite flowers were lilies.”

  Hank advanced, and Adam stood up, knocking the chair back in the effort. Drexel stood up and inserted himself in the path between the two. Callahan advanced forward and said, “Stop right there.”

  Hank glared at Adam.

  Daniela said, “Officer, why don’t you escort Hank outside?”

  Callahan nodded. “Sir, come with me.”

  Hank glared at Adam.

  Callahan said, “Sir, you need to come with me or I’ll place you under arrest.”

  Hank’s jaw trembled and the hate in his eyes welled up with tears. He nodded once, turned, and walked out. Callahan followed. Pritzker walked so that he could see out the door but from inside.

  Drexel said to Adam, “Sit down.”

  Adam looked at him. As he sat down, he said, “She loved lilies.”

  “You went there to help her, right? Offer her a way out?”

 

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