Promised Box Set

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by James Kipling


  “For your information, Ashlee Thompson was not a stranger and, even though I didn’t do it, she got what was coming to her! You said you know all about me? Well, I know a thing or two about you, too. How about the fact that both your parents were murdered and nobody has been able to find their killers?”

  The words stung her like a hard slap to the face. She took a deep breath and almost staggered under the verbal assault.

  Pierce saw what was happening. “Chelsea, you’d better step out, I’ll handle it from here.”

  It was a command not a suggestion. This time she obeyed. She needed time to think, to process what she had just heard. Her chest tightened and her heart pounded with a mixture of fear and confusion. Somehow, she found the strength to walk out of the investigation room.

  Chapter 5

  A confused Chelsea almost staggered back to her desk. What did Quincy mean? How did he know about her parents? What else did he know about her? Could he have been that caller?

  Not knowing what else to do, she flipped on the computer and started searching. There had to be some connection somewhere. As she searched randomly, she sensed the presence of someone standing behind her. She turned around and saw it was Dean.

  “That was a rough one, eh?” He sounded very sympathetic.

  She nodded, not daring to speak in case her voice revealed the turmoil she was in.

  “Don’t let what Quincy said in there bother you. You know that when people are desperate they’ll say anything to get off.”

  That might be true, but how did he know about her parents?

  “Because of the blood on his clothes, they’re bound to hold him for a while,” Dean told her.

  That gave her small comfort. However, it would give her some time to look more closely into what he had said. The phone on Dean’s desk rang and as he stepped away to answer it, he spoke to her.

  “Remember, I’m always available if you want someone to talk to.”

  As he left, a thought flashed through her mind. Why not look up the case on the police database? She had thought about it several times, but lost her nerve every time she considered doing it.

  This time she decided to go ahead. She had to find out all there was to know. Maybe, she would find the truth and be able to make sense of what Quincy had said.

  Just as she was about to log into that section of the database, she heard Pierce calling her name. Suspecting what was going to happen and with an uneasy feeling in her gut, she approached his office. Dean gave her a cheer up sign as she passed his desk.

  In Pierce’s office she tried to keep her eyes on the plaques on the wall, to avoid looking directly at him.

  “Do you know Justin Quincy?”

  “No.”

  “Obviously he knows you, and there seems to be a connection between you and the crime we’re investigating.”

  “I don’t know what is going on Pierce, believe me, I don’t.”

  “Is there anything that you aren’t telling me?”

  “You already know about all you should. It’s all there in my file… I told the therapist everything when I was a rookie and you people sent me to her.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t necessarily mean everything, knowing how secretive you are.”

  She had to admit this was so, but she saw no reason to spill her innermost thoughts for everyone to read and neatly file away. She stood there not knowing quite what to say.

  “It will take me some time to figure this one out,” she told him.

  “I couldn’t agree more and that is why I’m considering having you removed from this case, unless you can give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

  No, this couldn’t be happening. She wanted to stay on the case. She had promised Mrs. Thompson to find her daughter’s killer. Plus for her own personal reasons she wanted to stay on. She had to continue.

  “Pierce, please do me a favor. Just give me a little more time. A few days maybe, to sort this out. It means a lot to me.”

  She saw his mouth twitch and knew he was having a struggle doing what she asked.

  “Chelsea, I really don’t know if I can do what you ask.” His face was set, although his eyes were understanding.

  She felt she had no choice but to tell him what she had done. Maybe he would understand her request.

  “I didn’t want to tell you this, but I copied a file from the department and took it home…”

  “What?”

  “The file about my parents—I wanted to see if could find any clues as to who their killer might be.”

  “But you know that’s against Department policy and could get you—”

  “Don’t say it, there’s worse to come…”

  His eyes opened wider as if he could not imagine what could be worse.

  “This morning I received a phone call from someone saying he knew about my copying the file.”

  Now he seemed even more worried. “Did you tell anyone what you had done?”

  She nodded.

  “That means there’s a dirty cop among us.”

  “You want me to help you with this one?”

  “No, just give me a few days and I’ll see what happens. If I get in over my head I’ll let you know. But this is something I would rather do alone. All I need is a few days.”

  He paused for a moment, and then sighed heavily.

  “All right, Chelsea, you know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I’ll cut you some slack, a few days and that’s it.”

  Relief flooded her. She had to try and trace that anonymous call and follow up on some of the information she had found in the file and check if there was any connection between them and Quincy.

  “What I’m suggesting now, though, is that you go home and get some rest. Your lack of sleep has been showing.”

  Chelsea turned to leave when he called her back.

  He lowered his voice and spoke in a confidential tone. “Chelsea, this is just between you and me. Don’t be too quick to share everything you know with Weston. He has a probing curiosity I don’t yet fully understand, and since we don’t know him too well, I’d suggest a little caution.”

  Chelsea opened her mouth to protest angrily, but thought better of it considering the huge favor he had just granted her… at his own risk. He mistook her angry looks for something else.

  “Don’t get mad at me for saying this. I could have said more, but chose not to. I’m not blind you know…I see how you two have been looking at each other. But that doesn’t mean you should get careless. And remember, it is not wise to get personally involved on the job.”

  Again she swallowed back the angry retort and stormed out of his office. How dare he intrude in her personal life? What right did he have to speak to her about such matters? She was a grown woman and certainly knew how to conduct her own affairs.

  “Sure,” she replied. As if to prove this point, she went across to Weston’s desk.

  “Want to come with me? I am going by the pathology lab to see if they have found out anything else.”

  “Sure,” he eagerly replied.

  She grabbed her bag while he took his gun from the drawer and together they left the office. Along the way she thought of Pierce’s words. Her boss seemed to be suspicious of Dean, but for her she was not sure. He was kind and thoughtful, always seeming to be concerned about her welfare. This made her feel good. But most of all, he was the first person she had opened up to in a long time, and it did bring some mental relief. There were some minor nagging concerns, but she figured in time as they got to know each other better things would become clearer.

  Pierce thought he knew everything, but she felt sure he was wrong about this one.

  Chapter 6

  In the parking lot the rain had finally ceased and the ominous clouds had given way to a baby blue sky. All the clouds had shifted to the mountain tops in the distance and the Arizona heat was back. As she slipped behind the wheel of the car she was not sure what
to do at the moment. She felt like talking, but then was hesitant, remembering what Pierce had said about Dean. It was not that she fully agreed with or believed Pierce.

  “Is everything all right?” Weston asked.

  “More or less. This is all just a little overwhelming to be completely honest. I think I can get past it though. Tonight I will have more time to reflect and get a handle on things.”

  “So are you off the case?”

  “Not for the moment. Pierce has given me a few days to sort things out, before that possibility arises again.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I’ll come up with something.”

  “If I can be of any help, let me know.”

  “I will. But what about you? You seemed somewhat distracted today.”

  “Well, I’m still puzzled by the motive Quincy would have for killing Ashlee. She was not a drug user and I doubt very much that they ran in the same circles.”

  “Do you really think Quincy killed her?”

  “I actually do. But he has a strong defense based on what he told us. It will be very hard to make the charge stick unless we find something new.”

  “Suppose he really didn’t do it? Then what?” Chelsea asked. She had been considering such a possibility, although she had come down hard on him during questioning.

  “Maybe he didn’t. He’s into drugs, but if that’s all, there’s no motive...”

  “Sometimes there doesn’t need to be a motive. Not every killer plans on who to kill and why.”

  She shook her head. What Quincy had said made her believe he was responsible for Ashlee’s death, but why? She seemed like a regular college student and she wasn’t into drugs. Well, so it seemed at the moment, anyway; until they talked to her boyfriend, who they had not yet been able to locate.

  “Why do you think we can’t find Austin Rodriquez?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you know something I don’t?”

  She watched as his reaction changed for a split second, but he regained his composure quickly.

  “No. I know as much as you do,” he answered smoothly.

  They drove along in silence for a while. Then she said, “I hope we get a breakthrough soon. I hate it when there is nothing solid to go on and we are groping around blind. Maybe we’re looking at this all wrong.”

  “I feel the same way too, but have you asked yourself how he came to know about your parents?”

  “That is anyone’s guess, but disturbing nonetheless. He is thirty-one, so when my parents were murdered he would have been only sixteen.”

  “What city are you originally from?” Dean asked.

  “Why does that matter?”

  “There might be an overlap between you and Quincy that we don’t know about.”

  “I am from here,” she said slowly. “I lived on the southwest side of town though.”

  “Earlier you told me you had relocated to here.”

  “To the east side,” she said slowly.

  “Well, tomorrow we’ll look and see if maybe there is something connecting you or your family and Quincy all those years ago.”

  Her mind trailed off for a moment as she rummaged through all the memories of her childhood, trying to recollect ever hearing the name Quincy.

  “Now that I think of it, there was a woman in our neighborhood named Quincy, Gabrielle Quincy.”

  Chelsea remembered her because she lived in the seedier part of town and kept mostly to herself and wouldn’t let her children out to play with others. Rumor had it that she was on drugs and treated her children badly.

  “Do you think Quincy is related to her?”

  “That we’ll have to check on and find out,” she said, as she pulled into the parking lot of the morgue. “We’ll talk later.”

  Quickly she got out of the car and entered the building using her security badge. Dean followed closely behind her. Pushing open the heavy glass door she saw Josie sitting at a desk entering data from files into the computer database. This was tedious but important work that Chelsea was really glad she didn’t have to do.

  “Hi, Chelsea; hey Dean,” Josie said, getting up. “Just give me a minute and I’ll call Cara for you.”

  Chelsea watched as she disappeared down the corridor to fetch her sister. With her auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail, Josie didn’t look like she was twenty years old. She still appeared as if she should be in high school, rather than in college studying to become a lawyer.

  Cara appeared shortly and motioned for them to follow her. The morgue was probably the creepiest place Chelsea had ever visited. She recalled one evening while she was getting a report on a teenager who had died suspiciously, she could have sworn that one of the bodies moved. Cara explained that this happened sometimes due to gases moving around in the body. That did nothing to calm her fears, and she often wondered if the stories she heard about ghosts hanging around the morgue might not be true.

  “Did you find anything of interest to us?”

  “Yes,” she said, as they stepped into the morgue. They all pulled on lab coats before she uncovered the body.

  “She was several weeks pregnant and she also had traces of cocaine in her wounds. It transferred from the knife which most likely was also used to cut the coke.”

  “So, other than that, you’re saying she did not test positive for any drugs,” Dean inquired.

  “No. I am going to take the fetus’s DNA and see if it matches that of anyone we may have in our system.” Josie informed them.

  “Good idea. So, this also means we must find her elusive boyfriend. He might definitely know something.” Chelsea said.

  “Yes, but before you go, look at these x-rays of her fibula. You see the fracture?”

  “Yeah, what about it?”

  “The x-rays on the right are from when she visited the doctor nearly two months ago, and those on the left are the ones I took this morning. She broke it again, presumably while trying to run away from her attacker. That made her an easier victim. And Chelsea, whoever did this severed her aorta before inflicting these other wounds. That would suggest some sort of rage.”

  “Was there anything underneath her nails?”

  “No, which indicates her attacker was fully covered so that her efforts to fight him off didn’t register on his skin. The person who murdered her came prepared. He knew what he was doing.”

  “How do you know it’s a male?”

  “These wounds are deep. Women are generally weaker than men. I can’t say you should rule out women, but she would have to be extremely strong to inflict these kinds of wounds.”

  “Thanks, Cara, you’ve given us quite a bit of food for thought. Call me if you find out anything else.”

  “I will, and I do hope you catch this brute. He must be brought to justice.”

  Chapter 7

  As they returned to the car, Chelsea and Dean talked over the new information they had just received. It sounded like a male, possibly even Ashlee’s boyfriend, especially since she was pregnant. They had to find this bastard and soon. All efforts so far had failed to locate him, but he couldn’t have gone that far. But if Rodriquez was the killer, it would mean Quincy was speaking the truth about his innocence. This case needed serious re-thinking. No question about it.

  “Do you want me to drop you home?” Chelsea asked.

  Dean hesitated a moment, then said, “How about some food first?”

  “I don’t see why not.” She hadn’t had a proper meal since that hurried cup of coffee in the morning, and God knows she had nothing at home.

  “Great, it will be my treat. Do you like Mexican food?”

  “I am not too sure about that. I usually have soup.”

  “Well, you will eat some real food today. In the mean time we can continue pondering the details of the case.”

  “Sounds good to me. By the way, where are we going?”

/>   “Broadway and Kolb.”

  That meant she would have to pass her building and turn off at the next left. On the way back, she would drop Weston off then return home.

  “You need to get into the left lane.”

  This she did. The steady flow of the traffic kept her occupied, but that didn’t prevent her from observing the way Dean was watching her, somewhat furtively. She pretended not to notice and wondered what he had on his mind. Suddenly, she saw Kolb coming up ahead.

  “Where should I turn?”

  He looked out the window and pointed. “At the sign that says Macayo.”

  She saw an orange building with blue trim and wondered how she had never noticed it before. She pulled in. It didn’t appear to be too busy, as there weren’t many cars in the parking lot.

  “Why is it so—colorful?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t design it.”

  Quite right. She smiled at her stupidity. They went inside. It was spacious and with an attractive décor. They had created a fiesta theme with bright colors that went well together. It was a little wild, but she liked it.

  The waiter seemed to know Dean and led them to a table for two tucked away in a cozy corner. She wondered how often he came there and with whom.

  Dean ordered something to drink and as they waited they chatted.

  “So why did you become a cop, Dean?”

  “As strange as it might sound, I was inspired by my family. There were always on the opposite side of the law. I eventually figured that the knowledge I had about people like them would be a great asset to me if I ever decided to become a cop, which is what I eventually did.”

  “So they were involved with drugs?”

  “Yes, and I couldn’t stand to see how it destroyed their lives and the lives of those they sold the drugs to. I decided not to be a part of that, so I broke free from it.”

  “Did they not know you were a cop?”

  “No, I never told them, and since I was always undercover they didn’t figure it out until one of my personal informants turned on me.”

 

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