All the Hidden Sins

by Marian Lanouette

  The one person or thing she’d miss was Jake. Her parents also, if she was being honest. Though they’d been a pain in her ass lately, they were still her parents. They loved Trevor. Once she settled in after a year she’d contact them, but first she had to make sure she disappeared without a trace. The Midwest might have been better, but she didn’t like their winters. No, don’t second guess your choice, Kyra. Arizona it is.

  * * * *

  A little too fast, he pulled into his garage. She lied. Determined to find out what was going on with Kyra, he headed into his home office. After booting up his computer, he ran searches on Kyra’s, Tom’s, and Phil’s finances. While that was running, he made phone calls to a couple of snitches, then a friend at the FBI. He wanted to know if they ever looked at Stack with an eye to the underworld. He also wanted everything they’d collected over the course of their surveillance on Phil Lucci. With those fires stoked, he went into his kitchen. He mixed a drink, then sipped it on his way into the living room to try to unwind.

  He contemplated the outcome of his searches when Dina popped into his head. Wasn’t she the one who’d introduced him to Kyra in the first place? Without looking at the time, he reached for his cell phone and punched in her number.

  “Dina, it’s Jake Carrington,” he said, as she started to speak.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No—why?”

  “Well, it’s after midnight.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t look at the time, but it’s important.”

  “Go ahead,” she said, her voice heavy with sleep.

  “Dina, Kyra’s husband got attacked tonight. I need to know all about her.” Dina’s sharp intake of breath in his ear spelled doom. She wasn’t going to betray her friend. “Dina?”

  “Why are you asking? Kyra’s not a suspect is she?”

  “No, she’s not. But everything I find leads back to a friend of hers. Someone’s got a hard-on for her. How long have you known them?”

  “I’ve known them for about five years. The divorce didn’t surprise me.”

  “Why?”

  “Kyra seemed restless. That’s my opinion. She was withdrawn. When she spoke of Trevor, though, her love for him showed.”

  “What about her gambling?” Tricky subject. Knowing full well he might be sued by Kyra for invading her privacy without a warrant. What trouble was he causing by telling Dina about her addiction? But it had to be asked.

  “Tom used it as an excuse. Listen Jake, she’s my boss. I like her, but we’re only work friends, if you get my drift.”

  “I do. Has anyone bothered her, harassed her that you know of?”

  “No.”

  Dina had started to shut down the conversation in the way she answered him. In his gut, he knew he’d better ask the right question before she refused to answer any more.

  “Dina, I’m doing this for her safety. Whoever beat him up tonight threw her name and mine into the mix. They said the beating came from us.”

  “Oh, Jake, I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault. Has she talked about a guy named Phil Lucci?”

  “I don’t…wait. There was a Phil who’s been calling her the past several weeks.”

  Now we’re getting somewhere. “What’s her reaction to his calls?”

  “Reaction? I’m not privy to the calls, but the little I can tell you is that she’s pleasant, businesslike, nothing more.”

  “One more question. How many times has he called her in the past several weeks?

  “I’d say...five times or so.”

  “Thanks, I owe you dinner for waking you.”

  Jake hung up. Dina’s answers swirled in his head. Five times wasn’t a lot to call a person over several weeks. What did Phil want? Was he trying to convince her to go out with him again? Or was it business? What business? Something niggled at the base of his skull , trying to get out. Jake reached for the aspirins, popped a couple as he racked his brain.

  Questions with no conclusive answers. Then answers that led to more questions. He went to check his computer to see if his search had produced anything concrete. It was still running. He decided to get some shuteye.

  An hour later he was back up, pacing his living room. A grisly idea refused to die. Though he tried to push away the most disturbing idea, it was the only one that seemed the most plausible. If it was business—Kyra and Phil’s relationship—it had to be about her job. He wrote down words on his pad, moved them around. What was Kyra’s specialty? Cemetery? Crematory? His pen stopped in midair.

  Oh, for Christ’s sake! NO! Not that.

  He’d slept with her, had started to care for her. Was she disposing of bodies for Phil Lucci? What department did he start with at the state level? Whose job was it to audit cemetery records? How was it possible to prove what he imagined she was doing for Phil? Was Dina involved? Is this why Stack was killed? No. That didn’t fit. Kyra had told the truth when he asked her about Stack.

  Kyra, an accomplished liar? A sociopath? The workings of his mind mulled information around until it clicked into place.

  Around six a.m. his cell phone rang. “Hello?”

  His back ached. He’d fallen asleep in the recliner. He stood and stretched out the kinks.

  “Jake, Byron Gates here. You called?”

  “Byron, thanks for getting back to me. Who audits the cemeteries around the state?”

  “My department. The State Health Department. You didn’t find a problem, did you? After that scandal last year, we’re right on top of things now.”

  “No, don’t worry, nothing like that. Can we meet for lunch today? I’ll explain everything when we meet up.”

  “You got my attention.”

  After making lunch plans, Jake hung up. Soon he’d know if she had falsified records. Shit, if she had, his career was over and she had made him a patsy. His phone rang again before he jumped into the shower.

  “What’s up, Louie?”

  “I caught one. Do you want me to pick you up?”

  “No, you’re lead on this one. I’ll be tied up with IA this morning.”

  “Stack?”

  Jake grimaced, “No, me.”

  “You? What the—”

  Jake cut him off. “Kyra’s ex got beat up last night. Miller’s division caught the case. Supposedly, the attacker said it came from me.”

  “That’s bullshit, Jake. Miller’s an asshole.”

  “He is, but I have to go through the motions. I’ll fill you in after lunch.”

  Chapter 34

  Kyra didn’t sleep well. Up early, she decided to head into the office. Two burials yesterday and one today created a lot of paperwork. She had to update the files and record the permits. Outside of a cremation tomorrow, she’d be done. She understood that at the close of the day her career ended. She’d never be able to find work in this field again without recommendations. Kyra had trained Dina to do cremations, but she didn’t like it. Kyra hadn’t pushed her, now she was sorry for that. She didn’t like leaving them in the lurch, but Trevor came first.

  Who was she kidding? She was doing this to protect herself.

  “Hey, you’re here early.” She jumped at Dina’s voice.

  “Morning. I’m trying to catch up on the paperwork.”

  “I heard Tom got beat up last night. Are you okay?” Dina said as she took a seat in front of Kyra’s desk.

  “How’d you hear that? Did it hit the morning edition?” Kyra’s voice squeaked.

  “No, Jake called me last night.”

  “Jake?” This wasn’t going to be good. Her pulse quickened, her mouth went dry. Why didn’t he believe her?

  “Yeah. He asked a lot of strange questions. Kyra, are you all right? Sit.” Dina helped her into her chair.

  “I’m fine. What kind of questions?”

  While D
ina relayed the conversation she’d had with Jake the night before, Kyra calculated Jake’s reasons. She’d need to leave sooner than planned. She needed to pull Trevor out before school ended. Why didn’t things ever go smoothly?

  Later, with the Bargain News in her hand, Kyra contacted the number in the ad. She made the appointment to look at a car at lunchtime. It was a 2008 Audi A4. She hoped there was nothing wrong with the car because it was going cross-country after she picked up Trevor.

  * * * *

  Jake walked into the Internal Affairs division with his shoulders straight, his manner professional. His surroundings reminded him of corporate America. The secretary took his name before he sat in the far corner facing both the hallway and the door. Annoyed at this interruption in his investigation, he picked up a magazine to control his anger. He thumbed through it, not comprehending what was on the page, his mind elsewhere. After twenty minutes, the lieutenant who came out surprised him. He knew him. In fact, Frank Rinaldi had worked cases with him before Rinaldi transferred to IA.

  “Jake, I’ll be handling this interview. Good to see you again. Please follow me.”

  Once inside the lieutenant’s office, Jake took the seat in front of the desk while the lieutenant sat beside Jake instead of in his office chair. Two equals having a discussion, not a lynching. His nerves settled down.

  “Jake, Sergeant Miller filed this complaint. I’m here to tell you that your captain has already called to express his opinion in this matter. As you know, every complaint, no matter who files it, must be investigated.”

  “I understand,” Jake said.

  “Good. I interviewed the victim last night and although he doesn’t like you, he didn’t see you doing something like this. I also interviewed his soon-to-be ex-wife and she appears to be innocent of this. The only thing we have here are allegations with no proof. You do date Mrs. Russell, correct?” Lieutenant Rinaldi asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You were also the one to file charges against Mr. Russell for the attempted rape of Mrs. Russell.”

  “No, Mrs. Russell filed charges. I was a witness to the attempted rape. I subdued Russell and relayed my account of events to the officer who responded to the call. I’m the one who called for the uniforms, convinced Mrs. Russell to file charges. Mr. Russell was turned over to the uniforms who arrived on the scene after I called for a wagon.”

  “How did you feel about Mr. Russell attempting to rape your girlfriend?”

  “The man should be locked up. Any person who attempts to rape anyone belongs behind bars. Men like that are cowards.”

  “It angers you?” Jake knew he was being baited.

  “Yes, that’s why I subdued him and called for backup.”

  “What are your long-range plans with Mrs. Russell?” Lieutenant Rinaldi asked.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Jake tapped his fingers on his legs.

  “Answer my question, Lieutenant,” Rinaldi said.

  “Our relationship has run its course.”

  “Why is that?”

  “It’s personal.”

  “Nothing is personal in an IA investigation, Lieutenant, you more than anyone should understand that.” Again, with my rank. Rinaldi’s putting me in my place. He’s not letting me take control. Impressive.

  “I broke it off to resume a previous relationship.”

  “What relationship was that?” Rinaldi asked.

  Jake ran a hand through his hair. “I’m in love with another woman. We decided to give it a second chance.”

  “I see.”

  Jake didn’t fill the silence. He waited Rinaldi out. Where the hell were these questions leading?

  “Do you have anything else to add to your statement, Jake?”

  “That’s it?” Tread carefully here. What’s Rinaldi up to?

  “Yes. Sergeant Miller was out of line filing this claim before he completed his investigation. He filed on hearsay, not evidence. IA agrees with Captain McGuire. Now, McGuire said you had a delicate matter to discuss with Internal Affairs?”

  “A Detective Carl Stack—is he or was he under investigation by this department?” Jake asked.

  “I can’t reveal that, Lieutenant.”

  “Stack’s dead, and my investigation into his death is leading me to some strange places.” It’s not the time to give too much away.

  “Such as?” Rinaldi asked.

  “See, I don’t want to put a black mark against a man’s name until I’m sure. His death is being investigated by the state police. It happened in their territory,” Jake said.

  “And you’re involved, because?”

  “Because I’m running Missing Persons right now and one of his cases doesn’t hold together.” Jake watched Rinaldi process the information.

  “Yes, we were investigating him,” Rinaldi said after a time. “He lives, I mean lived, above his means and always refused to work with a partner for the last couple of years,” Rinaldi said.

  “And?” It was like pulling teeth, Jake thought.

  “And it looks like he associated with known criminals.”

  “Can I get names?”

  “No. You have to follow your investigation. When you’re further along, we’ll compare notes.”

  Jake stood, reached out his hand, took Rinaldi’s in his.

  “I’ll let you know, if and when you find anything to aid in our investigation,” Rinaldi said.

  “One other thing. Did the name Phil Lucci come up in your investigation?”

  Rinaldi had answered his question without answering his question. Thank you, Frank.

  On the way back to his office, Jake checked his watch and contacted Louie. Not bad. IA had detained him for an hour. Rinaldi went easy on him. What this told him was that they didn’t put credence in Miller’s complaint, but were required to go through the motions. His respect for Internal Affairs had increased.

  “Are you still at the scene?” Jake asked cutting off Louie’s greeting.

  “Yep.”

  “Address?”

  Jake wrote it down then headed out. He wasn’t needed at the scene, but he was too antsy to sit at his desk. And truth be told, he needed Louie’s calm and logic. Stupid as that sounded, even to him, Louie had been his rock his whole life. Louie’s mind worked out things others missed. Jake wanted to bounce some stuff off him.

  He pulled up to the scene. Let his gaze roam the area. He noted the bystanders. He drew back his jacket to expose his shield as he ducked under the crime scene tape.

  “Where’s Sergeant Romanelli?” he inquired.

  The uniform at the door said, “He’s in the back bedroom with the body, Lieutenant.” Jake nodded as he continued walking into the house.

  In the doorway, he stopped. He fixed his eyes on the victim. He liked to study the scene before he touched anything or anyone gave him information pertaining to the crime. The body always told its own story. Sadness filled him. A Caucasian woman, in her twenties, brown hair with blond highlights, five-five, one hundred twenty pounds. Manner of dress, suggestive, not slutty. Dress hiked above her waist told him most likely a sexual assault. The panties lay over by the bed as if they’d been whipped off and thrown.

  The victim appeared to have been entertaining someone or had plans to entertain. A wide gap in her neck gave him probable cause of death. A sharp knife. Doc McKay would give him shape and size. He’d guess she’d been dead since last night. The eyes, already filmed over, stared at the ceiling, almost as if in prayer. A pretty girl in life, judging from the pictures he saw around her apartment. Death still showed some of that beauty, but in a creepy sort of way. Louie walked over to him.

  “Meet Miss Ellen Laurel,” Louie said and gave Jake the run-down.

  “Any suspects or witnesses?”

  “Nary a one.”

  “Nary? S
eriously?” Jake loved Louie’s expressions. “Who found her?”

  “Her best friend, Cindy Kalen. She said Ellen didn’t go into work today or answer her phone. At first she figured the date lasted longer than expected. The thing is, this girl always answered her phone. It’s why her friend got worried.”

  “Will you be done by one?”

  “Yeah, you want to grab lunch?”

  “I have a lunch date, but I want to bounce some stuff off you.”

  Louie gave him the eye. “I’ll look you up when I get back. Want to give me a heads-up?”

  “Not here.”

  Back at the station, the day promised to be a long one. It was only ten thirty. In his pocket, his cell phone rang. Good, his snitch.

  “Yo, Lieutenant.” Caller Id. Jake needed to remember to block his number.

  “Yo, back at you, Dickieboy.”

  “I hate that nickname,” Dick Kendal, Jake’s snitch, said.

  “What have you got for me?”

  “Stack was a weasel, man. He’d come down here to score. If you wanted to get paid for your product he’d threaten to lock you up on trumped-up charges. You ask me, he got what he deserved,” Dick said, as he sniffed into the phone. Back on the coke, Jake figured.

  “I didn’t ask you. Why didn’t someone work him over? If he was stealing from you, he had to be hitting on others. Right?”

  “Because he was protected.”

  “By whom?” Jake asked.

  “Come on, Lieutenant, you wanna get me dead?”

  “No, I don’t, Dickie. Give me something.”

  “You know how I love that show about the mob on HBO?” Dick asked.