Mission

by Camilla Chafer

  Lily stopped as she walked past me with a tray of empty glasses. "Did you drive here?" she asked.

  "I did."

  "Keys?"

  I fished them from my pocket and handed them over. "Take her home, please," she instructed Maddox. "She definitely wobbled."

  "I would never drive drunk!" I protested. "I'm not even drunk. I have heels on!"

  "I can't breathalyze you so I need to be sure you don't drive. Your car can stay in the lot overnight or you can send someone over to pick it up. Sorry, the police visited all the bars on this street last week and laid down the law. They warned me I could get prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law so now I have to be extra careful."

  I was too tired to argue. That, combined with the two glasses of wine, meant Lily was probably right. Plus, it was nice to have a friend watching out for me. "I can get an Uber," I told them both.

  "I'll take you home," said Maddox.

  "You drank the same amount as me."

  "I'm bigger than you. I metabolize alcohol faster."

  "Fine, but we have to get two burgers on the way because I’m hungry," I announced as my stomach gave a small but ominous rumble.

  "You're buying, and I want a large order of fries," said Maddox.

  "Fine, and two chocolate milkshakes."

  "You drive a hard bargain. Deal."

  We waved to Lily and Ruby as we walked out the front doors, turning left. Before we even walked a full block, we got to his car. I texted Solomon that the pool car was invited to a sleepover behind the bar and I'd be home with hot burgers soon. Then I buckled up.

  "We'll hit the drive-through off Century Street," said Maddox. "Then I can take you home. Hey, have you ever thought about getting a normal job?"

  "I think you asked me that already."

  "Yeah. One day I hope the answer will be yes."

  "You've seen me doing a normal job. I’ve never been successful." I smiled as I thought about all the creative ways I devised to assuage my boredom when temping.

  "Fair point."

  My cellphone rang and I smiled as I answered, "I knew you'd want a burger too."

  "I do but it'll have to wait. We found the vehicle," said Solomon.

  "I know. It's at Lily's. My sneakers are on the floorboard."

  "No, not that vehicle. The getaway vehicle from the bank. Lucas located it and managed to track it a few blocks. It was listed as being stolen so there was no address on record but I've had people searching the neighborhood where it was last sighted and we found it. We've had it under surveillance for an hour. No movement."

  "Where are you?"

  "Harbridge. We seem to be in the one part that hasn't been gentrified yet. Looks pretty rundown."

  "We? Who's we?"

  "Me and Delgado. Fletcher and Flaherty are watching the back. You should be here too."

  "What about their strip bar case?"

  "This takes precedence."

  I checked my watch. "I can make it in less than fifteen minutes."

  "Look for my car and try to be inconspicuous."

  "Got it." I stuck my phone in my pocket. "They found the getaway vehicle. This could be it! Case solved."

  "From the bank? Let's go," said Maddox. "Call it professional curiosity but I want to see how this plays out."

  "I knew you couldn't resist."

  Maddox hung a right and we sped onto Century Street, turning before we got to the drive-through. That was disappointing but I figured the perps would not wait for us to eat dinner before they engaged in their criminal activities. We drove a few blocks at normal speed, spotting Solomon's car and parking around the corner a block away. We hurried over, and I slid onto Solomon's unoccupied back seat.

  "This is a surprise," said Solomon, glancing at Maddox. His arm rested casually on the open window.

  "He was giving me a ride home," I explained. "Lily took my keys."

  "Thanks," said Solomon. "Are you drunk?"

  "No!"

  "No problem. Lexi was buying the burgers," said Maddox.

  Delgado twisted in his seat. "You bought burgers?"

  I held my hands up. "Nope. Solomon called before we could get there."

  "Man," sighed Delgado, "I'm hungry."

  "If this goes well, I'll buy everyone a burger. Now stop thinking about your stomachs," said Solomon.

  That was hard to do since I'd been craving greasy carbs ever since the matter came up. "Which house are we looking at?" I asked.

  Delgado pointed. "The blue two-story at the end of the block. We spotted the van in the garage around back."

  "That was a good spot."

  "If you call peeking into two hundred windows and crawling through alleys overgrown with weeds that were being used as mattress dumpsters a good spot," retorted Delgado. "I need to wash my boots."

  Solomon looked down at the passenger floorboard where Delgado rested his boots. "And while you’re at it, my car. I wondered what that smell was."

  Delgado looked affronted. "You did not think that was me!"

  "You know Serena will insist you disrobe in the street rather than letting you inside the house smelling like that," I told him, reasonably sure that would be the case. My sister kept a neat house and there was no way she would let the foul stench of Delgado's boots violate her rules.

  "I'll walk in through the garage. She'll never know."

  "You're a brave man," I said, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll miss you."

  Solomon smiled as Delgado shook his head before picking up his cellphone and making a call. "Any movement?" he asked, then, "I'll call you back." Turning to us, he said, "It's getting late and we haven't seen anyone enter or exit the house. No lights came on. No television."

  "Maybe the bad guys are taking a nap?" suggested Delgado.

  "At this hour? That's amateur level napping," I said. "No one takes a nap at this time of night. It's almost nine PM!"

  "There's a good view of the house. You haven't seen anyone get up for a drink or a snack?" asked Maddox.

  "No," replied Solomon.

  "Maybe they ditched the van and took off. Is the house abandoned?"

  "I took a walk past the mailbox and it's empty. Someone mowed the lawn in the last month," said Delgado.

  "Perhaps they ditched the van and went out?" I suggested. We were all quiet for a moment, staring at the silent house.

  "I have a bad feeling," said Solomon.

  "Has anyone notified MPD?" asked Maddox.

  "We didn't even notify the Feds, yet here you are," said Solomon without looking around.

  "In an unofficial capacity," said Maddox, unperturbed by the small show of irritation from Solomon. Having worked together before, they knew each other well enough. For a while, it got a little rough, but that soon settled into a friendship of sorts and a level of respect that grew less grudging as time went on. I was responsible for part of that, given my relationships with both men, but I made my choice. Although, when Ruby mentioned polygamy...

  "Why is your face screwed up like that?" asked Delgado. He twisted around to look at me again. "What did you just think of?"

  "Something dirty," said Maddox. "Probably too obscene to reveal."

  Solomon glanced at Maddox, then at me.

  "Nothing," I said.

  "Huh."

  "Yeah!"

  "Sure."

  The three men stared at me before they exchanged looks, shaking their heads and refocusing their eyes on the house.

  "Why don't I just knock on the door?" I asked, before adding, "which was what I intended to do until things got weird because of you three."

  "Actually, that's a good idea," said Solomon.

  "Are you kidding? You're sending Lexi to knock on the door of a getaway driver for a van full of armed men?"

  "There was a woman too," I reminded him. "Do you know of any female bank robbers?"

  Maddox's eyebrows drew together as he shook his head. "I'm sure that makes things much less dangerous. She'll ask the color of your nail
polish before she shoots you in the head."

  "I'm not going to knock, wait until they answer and ask whomever it is if they ever drove a getaway vehicle! There's a direct view into the living room from the front stoop. I'll take a peek, knock and pretend to be asking the neighbors to sign a petition. You can take a photo of whomever answers the door before they slam it in my face," I said, pointing to the camera resting across Solomon's lap. "You can even mic me for extra points."

  "I don't have a mic kit in the car but everything else works," said Solomon.

  "One of us should go," persisted Maddox.

  "You have FBI etched into your forehead," I said. "Solomon and Delgado would scare the living crap out of the homeowner. I'm wearing nice heels, so I'm the least obvious."

  "Which is exactly why I hired you," said Solomon, smiling again. He reached into the door pocket and pulled out a clipboard and a sheaf of paper, which he handed to me. "Go and do your perky thing."

  "Yes, boss."

  Maddox sighed.

  I hopped out of the car and Solomon called our colleagues at the rear of the house to alert them to my presence. Slightly emboldened by the wine, I walked down the street, aware that at least three pairs of eyes were fastened on me as I reached the house. The brisk air gave me the shivers and I hurried up the steps, raising my hand to knock before I leaned toward the window, getting a solid view of the living room. My fist froze before it ever hit the wood.

  A man lay face down on the floor and the mottled pattern of the carpet couldn't absorb the blood pooling around his still body fast enough.

  Chapter Eleven

  "You just found him like that?"

  I lifted my eyebrows at Jord, resisting the urge to check the nearest mirror to see if I raised them in a sufficiently scathing manner. "I sure as hell didn't put the bullet in him," I said.

  We stood on the sidewalk, a short distance from the house, while two uniformed officers unrolled a reel of yellow crime tape and cordoned off the house and yard. Since they arrived, sirens blaring, the neighborhood seemed to stir, the quiet houses now full of sticky beaks, peeking out from behind half-closed drapes. A few people even strolled into their yards, crossing their arms as they looked on with unabashed interest.

  "How long has he been dead?" asked Solomon. He stood by my side, his arm close enough that his body heat radiated into mine. It crossed my mind to hold his hand but I was too aware of how many people would think I was a “weak, little woman” struggling to cope with the sight of a dead body. If only they knew! Screw them! What did I care? It was cold and I just found a corpse. I slipped my hand into Solomon's, twining my fingers with his. His fingers closed around mine, his thumb brushing over mine reassuringly.

  "He's stiff as a board. The ME can give a more accurate hour but my guess? Some time last night," said Jord.

  "What makes you think that?" asked Solomon.

  "Apart from the rigor mortis, there are remains of takeout in the kitchen. No breakfast items."

  "Was his bed slept in?" I asked, since the dead man's food choices weren't a definitive timeline. Neither was bed but it would support Jord's theory.

  "Hard to say. He wasn't much of a housekeeper."

  "How many plates for the takeout?" asked Solomon.

  "He ate from the container. One fork. Before you ask, yes, I recognized where it came from and I'll be confirming the time of delivery shortly. That'll narrow the window of death while we wait. Excuse me." Jord stepped away as one of the uniformed officers called his name, beckoning him over.

  "Why did you want to know how many plates there were?" I asked.

  "If he had company for dinner, the same person might have shot him. If they were sloppy, they could have left DNA evidence behind on a fork or a drinking glass. If he were dining alone, maybe he wasn't close to any of the bank crew. Regardless, someone shot him and he wasn't expecting it," said Solomon.

  "I would have definitely ordered more egg rolls if it were my last supper," I said, nodding in agreement.

  Solomon regarded me. "That's all?"

  I shrugged. "Potstickers too," I decided. "If I hafta go out like a light, I'm grabbing all the good stuff first. Chicken fried rice. That crispy beef thing we both like. Maybe throw in a banana fritter."

  "And to wash it down?"

  "Cocktails. Something fruity. Maybe a flashing ice cube."

  Solomon narrowed his eyes. "Have you been thinking about this for a long time?"

  "No thought required." Movement caught my attention and I leaned in to get a better view, then sighed. Exactly whom I thought it was: Garrett. I wasn't surprised to see him. Murder was his business, far more than Jord's, even though my youngest brother was the first detective to arrive on scene.

  "This is a surprise," said Garrett, strolling towards us like we arranged to meet at the park for a picnic. "Just like a family reunion. Again."

  "Daniel isn't here," I pointed out.

  "He's busy on another case," said Garrett. "But three out of five siblings, a couple of in-laws, and an FBI agent slash ex-detective are pretty good going."

  My phone began to buzz and I checked the screen. I sighed. I held it up so Garrett could see. "How does she know?" I asked. "There is no way Mom or Dad know anyone on this street!"

  "You'd be surprised. Mom's network is far-reaching."

  I ignored the buzzing and stuck the phone back into my pocket. If Mom's network were so extensive, she could find out from someone else what we were doing. She probably already had the crucial information: none of her children were injured. Before I could say anything else, Garrett's phone trilled. He reached for it, sighed, and put it in his pocket.

  "Who's the stiff?" he asked, glancing towards the house.

  "That's an excellent question," said Solomon.

  "And the answer is?" Garrett waited.

  "We don't know yet," I told him. "Solomon and Delgado tracked the getaway van from the bank to this location and the dead guy was inside the house."

  "The bank? As in the heist? Jord's case?" Garrett scratched his chin.

  "The very same," said Solomon.

  "That's why we called Jord. Investigating a bank heist is one thing. A murder quite another," I pointed out. "It's too much of a coincidence for the cases not to be related. Are you going to work together on this?"

  Garrett shrugged. "Most likely. The DA already started making noises about sticking an attempted murder charge on the robbers when they're caught. He's up for re-election next year and prosecuting an attempted murder on a cop is good publicity," he explained, raising a hand to wave to Jord as he walked towards us. "Plus, going hard on a bank hold-up makes terrific headlines."

  "So, the ME is taking a look now but I'm certain this is murder and not self-inflicted. Garrett, do you want to confirm?" asked Jord. Garrett nodded. "I ran the plates on the van in the garage and it was stolen a week ago from a car lot. I noticed a key tossed on the driver seat. Nothing in the back but I'm going to have the techs go over it for any trace evidence."

  "I'm surprised they didn't dump and burn it," said Maddox. "Seems careless."

  "You're still here," said Solomon.

  Maddox half-smiled. "Burgers," he replied.

  "There are burgers?" asked Garrett. He sniffed the air. "Where?"

  Solomon sighed. "What is it with you all and your empty stomachs?"

  "You've seen how we were raised," I told him as I checked my watch. It had been a long time since lunch and although seeing the corpse briefly put me off, the hunger pangs started up again. "Maddox has a point. Why didn't the thieves burn the van? They had to know MPD would be on high alert looking for it and the moment it was identified, it would be too hot to move."

  "There's not a lot of security around here," said Delgado. "I figured they drove the van into the garage and everyone took off. Or maybe the crew were dropped off on the way so they could disperse. It's not like they were carrying large bags filled with cash. Could be that the driver was supposed to dump it right away, or
hide the vehicle and dispose of it when everything quieted down. The alley is overgrown enough that no one would go searching there."

  "You said the key was in the van? Maybe they hoped someone would steal it? The next thief gets caught and ends up an accidental patsy," I suggested. "No one would believe they just 'happened' to steal the van and didn't have anything to do with the prior crime."

  "The only hole in that theory is a thief would give up where they found it to save their own ass from a hefty indictment. That would lead directly to here and the occupant," said Jord.

  "Yeah, I guess," I conceded. "So, we're back to the idea that it's a high probability the guy inside that house is our driver."

  "Or, at the very least, he was on the crew or closely associated with them," said Solomon. He fixed Jord with an assessing look. "Where does that leave MPD?" he asked.

  "I can't disagree with anything you've said," replied Jord. "The theory fits. I have an ID on the guy. Thomas Mackleton. Montgomery native. Arrest record for stolen vehicles since he was a teenager. He is... he was twenty-six, and he's been clean for two years. Didn't have a steady job."

  "How'd he afford the house?" I asked. "I know this part of Harbridge isn't a great neighborhood so that pulls the rent down, but it looks like there’re three bedrooms and a sizeable yard plus, the detached garage."

  "It's a squat. When I went inside, I found notices on the floor about foreclosure. I figured Mackleton found it empty and homesteaded. He jerry-rigged the electric power and I'm pretty sure he's leeching internet services from the neighbor."

  "Mind if I poke around?" asked Maddox.

  "Knock yourself out," replied Jord, stepping aside to let Maddox pass.

  "Can we?" I asked.

  Jord tilted his head. "No!"

  "You let Maddox!"

  "He's an FBI agent! He asked as a courtesy. Saying no wouldn't mean a thing."

  I turned to my oldest brother, and the most senior officer on scene. "Garrett?"

  "No. Poke around later behind my back like you usually do," said Garrett.

  "I have never!" I protested.

  "Did you find a weapon?" Solomon interrupted before anyone could call me a liar.