Conviction: Book 3 of the Detective Ryan Series

by Andrew Hess

“Ali, I get it, but you’re working yourself nonstop. You need to relax. We went through the entire box last night. We didn’t find anything.” His eyes washed over me. “And based on the mess on the floor, you didn’t find anything today either.”

  “You don’t get it. If I’m right, whoever is behind this had a hand in ten deaths, killed two others, tried to kill me, took my sister hostage, killed my boyfriend and made it look like my partner did it. He’s broken into your home, and made it known he is coming after me. I plan on finding out who he is and putting an end to this before he hurts any more people.”

  “I understand, but you’re pushing yourself too hard. You need to give yourself time to process the information and to rest.”

  “Or what, James? Are you going to rat me out to Esposito again? Are you gonna have him remove me from the case? News flash; I’m a big girl and can take care of myself.” I grabbed the files and placed them back in the box. “And if for some reason I get taken off the case, I’ll still look into on my own whether you and Esposito like it or not.” I grabbed the box and headed for the front door.

  “Where the hell are you going?”

  “Somewhere I can investigate without anyone bothering me.”

  I bolted from the house and placed the box of files in my trunk. With the driver’s side door open, I threw myself inside, casting an angry look up at James as he stared at me from the doorway. I didn’t know where I would go after I met with the D.A., but I knew I needed to be alone.

  Walking up to the D.A.’s office, I realized it was the first time stepping foot inside, let alone meet him in person. I let the secretary know I was there to see Mr. Garrett. She called him to verify before escorting me in to see him.

  “Ah Detective Ryan, please come in and have a seat.”

  Richard Garrett was a tall, skinny man. Although with all the bicyclist apparel around the room, you would think he would look more athletic.

  “Mr. Garrett, nice to finally meet you.”

  “No it’s not,” he laughed. “No one likes to meet me. Everyone knows I’m the asshole that makes the toughest decisions, or so I hear.”

  I tilted my head to hide the smirk. Richard Garrett had a horrible reputation for being ruthless in the courtroom. He had disregard for emotions, whether it be for the victim’s families or the general public. He did what was necessary to get the conviction. I was ready for that version of him, not this mildly charming man who sat behind his desk cracking jokes.

  “Mr. Garrett, I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

  “No worries, Detective. Although, I am interested to hear your theory about Detective Johnson’s case.”

  I went into a detailed explanation of what transpired in the last year, beginning with the Campus Killer case. I told him about the incident on the bridge and everything with my sister. When I brought up DeFalco’s final words before I pulled the trigger, Richard’s face cringed.

  “So you think he was trying to tip you off about a partner or someone that controlled him?”

  “I didn’t think much of it at the time, but I was brought in for an impromptu meeting with Dr. Claire Cain.”

  “The case that Ms. Reed is overseeing?”

  “Yes. Dr. Cain and her attorney requested the meeting to tell us she had been receiving death threats in prison. She told us she had information about the man that’s behind several investigations including the Campus Killer.”

  Mr. Garrett started pacing behind the desk as I told him the backstory. “And you believe her?”

  “It confirmed what DeFalco was trying to tell me. And her friend was murdered in her own home shortly after.”

  “So tell me; how does this have anything to do with Detective Johnson’s case?”

  “The man I have been referring to has made an attempt on my life and that of my sister. In the last few months, he broke into my car and left me flowers that night. He had the same bouquet delivered to the precinct with a card referencing an attack on my sister. We all went to my house. Rodney made it there first, but said someone attacked him. He has proof of head trauma from a physical altercation.”

  “Yes, the defense has made that information available to me as well. But how are these files going to help you prove he was set up?”

  “I want to check the evidence surrounding the blood spatter the bullet trajectory. I think the area might have been staged.”

  “Detective, you know my reputation. You know what’ll happen once I take this to the courtroom. If you honestly feel like you can prove he was setup, then by all means, take the info and prove me wrong.”

  Mr. Garrett picked up a thick folder and held it out for me to grab. “Thank you. I owe you one.”

  “Yes you do, Detective. And if you fail to convince me, I will collect on it.” His sly smile indicated he had a plan formulated well before he called me.

  “What exactly do you plan on collecting?”

  “Dinner; just you and me.”

  I didn’t know what kind of game he was playing, but I was willing to bet my dating life on Rodney’s innocence. “Alright, you got a deal.” I grabbed the folder from Mr. Garrett’s hands and smiled. “But if it was a date you wanted, all you had to do was ask.” He held up a finger to most likely ask me out on a date. “Sorry, but you’ll just have to wait to see if I can prove you wrong.” I slipped out of the office before he could speak another word.

  I now held all the information the D.A. and our collective police departments had on all three cases. Somewhere in those files held the proof of Rodney’s innocence and hopefully a lead to the man pulling everyone’s strings.

  I drove around for an hour and a half trying to think of a place I could go. Nothing seemed appealing. The precinct wasn’t private, James’ house was out of the question, and Rodney’s house would be a huge conflict of interest. There was only one place I could go that I knew no one would think to find me. I decided to go home.

  Coming up to the place I called home for so long felt a bit foreign. The house had been placed on the market to sell right after I closed the Campus Killer case. It never sold, but I was urged to stay away from it due to it becoming widely known as the house Detective Ali Ryan lived in.

  I slid the key into the lock and opened the door. It had been nearly eight months since the last time I stepped foot inside the house. Even when it went up on the market, I let Matthew go inside with the realtor. Inside was darkness, but I remembered everything about the place. I remembered where the furniture was placed and how much I loved coming back after a long day of work. I remember spending nights curled up on the couch with Matthew and the late nights, binge watching movies I rented with Amanda. It was home to me, and was the perfect place to look over Rodney’s case files.

  Chapter 22-Ali

  By morning I had read the reports twice, but was no closer to using them to my advantage. It was something I needed help with and thought of two people I trusted that could help me, but first I had to meet up with Rodney.

  I pulled into the parking lot for the walkway and found Rodney in his workout clothes. “I was beginning to wonder if you were gonna show,” he called out as I opened the car door. I wasn’t wearing my normal workout clothes, which he noticed right away. “What gives, Ali? You’re not running today?”

  “I didn’t have my clothes.” Before he could ask, I waved him off. “James and I got into an argument and I left last night; long story; don’t really wanna get into it.” I nodded to the car and held up two cups of coffee. “Come on; get in. We have a lot to talk about.”

  Rodney jumped into the passenger seat of my car as I told him about my meeting with the D.A., the box of files Esposito gave me, and the multiple cases I was working that may be tied to his.

  “You really think you can prove I didn’t do it?”

  “I hope so, or else I’ll be forced to go out on a date with Mr. Personality himself.”

  “And I’ll be going to prison.”

  “Oh yeah, that too.” I smiled
to let him know I was joking around. “I have an idea that I’ll need some help with. I figured I would ask a few guys at the station and maybe Fred.”

  “What about James?”

  “Don’t get me started on him.”

  “What happened between you two last night?”

  “He said I was pushing myself too hard and needed to take a break from the case before I burned out.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Rodney said as he drummed a finger on his chin. I knew he was referencing the times Matthew used to tell me the same thing.

  “Whatever,” I spat. “I didn’t wanna listen to him lecture me or threaten to go to Esposito if I didn’t listen like he did the other night.”

  “So where’d you go?”

  “Back to my old house. I figured no one would think to look for me there, which meant no one would bother me.”

  “That was stupid and dangerous, Ali. You know there’s some psychopath out there with a hard on for you.”

  “Thanks for the picturesque description.”

  “You know what I mean. You’ve got a target on your back, and this guy is looking for a chance to take you out.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. For now, I need to see if I could get a few people to help me figure a few things out.”

  “So no run today?”

  “Raincheck, partner. One quick question before I go. On the night of the shooting, did you see anyone in the room with you before you were attacked?”

  “No. I had my back to the door and swept the room and behind the door. I turned to leave and that’s when I got hit.”

  “Thanks, Rodney.”

  “Hope it helps.”

  “I think it will.”

  After saying goodbye, I drove back to the precinct, hoping to catch a few guys that were about to start their shift or just ending one. I caught Reyes and Lombardo walking out of the station and decided to ask for their help, despite their drunken phone calls when I refused to speak to Rodney.

  “Hey, you guys got some time to help me with something.”

  “Why should we help you?” Lombardo snapped.

  “Because I’m trying to help your friend get the charges dropped, unless you want to see him get carted off to prison.” There was something in Lombardo’s eyes I didn’t trust. He was colder than usual. The hostility in his voice made me want to punch him in the face, but Reyes’ voice interrupted that thought.

  “Sorry, Ali, we’re heading out to look into a missing person’s case.” Lombardo swatted at Reyes’ arm. “What?”

  “You want her stealing our case too?”

  “Are you serious? She’s got enough on her plate. I don’t think she wants to add a missing person to her case load.”

  “Look, Lombardo; I don’t know what your issue is with me, and frankly I really don’t care. I got more important shit to worry about.”

  I stormed through the precinct doors, finding most of the station was empty. I saw the lieutenant sitting in his office. He glanced up at me and moved towards his door.

  “Ryan, what are you doing here? And why aren’t you dressed for work?” Not wanting to explain what happened, I decided to change the subject.

  “I need you to come with me. I have a theory about Matthew’s shooting. Hopefully in will clear Rodney of all charges.”

  “How do you intend to prove that?”

  “Rodney said he was attacked when he entered Amanda’s room, but didn’t see anyone in there.”

  “And…”

  “No one entered the house after us, which meant Matthew had to be there already. If he was in the room, Rodney would have seen him.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “Either he was brought into the room after Rodney was attacked, or he was kept somewhere Rodney couldn’t see him.”

  “That’s going to be hard to prove, Ali.”

  “Not if we find a way to retrace the trajectory of the bullet and blood spatter. If I’m right, the patterns won’t match up.”

  “And how do you suppose we figure this out? Neither of us are analysts or experts on bullet trajectory nor blood spatter.”

  “No, but we both know people that do.”

  “You can’t expect everyone to drop what they’re doing just to help you with one of your crazy ideas. People have work; I have work to do.”

  I snatched the car keys off his desk. “So do I.”

  “Hey, get back here. Give me my keys back” He chased me out to the parking lot as I walked closer to his car. “Don’t you dare touch my car.” I disregarded his command and inserted the key into the lock. “Ali, I’m warning you; touch my car and I’ll bust you down to school crossing guard.”

  I knew he didn’t have the authority to demote me down that far, but wasn’t going to push my luck any further. “Then make the call, get whoever we need down here, and let’s get to the bottom of this case.”

  “Fine, can you give me fifteen minutes to finish what I was doing and make the calls?”

  “Sure, but I’m holding your car ransom.”

  He walked away mumbling something in Spanish. My guess was it translated into something like “pain in my ass is going to be the death of me.”

  About an hour later, the Lieutenant arrived at the house I rented, the site of Matthew’s death. We waited for our experts to arrive. We made sure to call in favors to the people we trusted the most. No one was happy to be there, but understood the severity of the situation. This was our best shot to clear Rodney’s name.

  I went over the files and pictures the D.A. had provided with the team. I had them run through the findings and recreate the shooting. Then we tested out my theories along with my response time. My first theory didn’t hold up. The shooter couldn’t have brought Matthew inside the room shot him from a standing position, untied him and escaped in the time I ran from the living room to the bedroom.

  My second theory held merit. I believed the shooter had Matthew tied up on the floor and moved him into position after knocking Rodney out. He fired the shot and cut the rope.

  My final theory was far-fetched even for me. “What if the shooter knocked out Rodney and had Matthew tied up against the bed? He crouched down and fired a shot, making it look like Rodney was falling.”

  “He would still need to get the bindings off before you got in the room. And what about the blood spatter?”

  “I have my theories on both of those, but need more evidence to support them. For now, can we run an analysis on the bullet trajectories to see where Matthew stood when he was shot?”

  “We could run some tests and get back to you in a day or two,” one of the men said. It would have to do for the time being.

  “Thanks guys, I appreciate it.”

  I watched as they collected the rest of their data and vacated the house. I took a seat on Amanda’s bed looking at the areas I found Rodney and Matthew in. There was something about that night that still felt off. There was something I was missing, and I didn’t want to leave until I figured it out.

  A hand closed on my shoulder. I looked up and found Lieutenant Esposito standing next to me. “Go home, Ali. Get some sleep. Hopefully tomorrow we’ll have some answers.”

  Home…that had become a foreign concept to me. My house was empty and still waiting to be sold. The house I rented was tainted with memories of the worst day of my life. And James’ house had a feeling of someone watching me at all times. Maybe it was time to find a new home.

  Chapter 23-PM

  The Puppet Master pulled into the parking spot directly behind his latest fixation. She caught his eye weeks ago, with her toned, tanned legs, her outfits that left little to the imagination, and a body that he couldn’t wait to claim. As much as he wanted her to be another name on his list, she needed to wait. The plan had to come first, and she would have her turn to be another name on his list.

  His eyes locked onto her stilettos as they touched the pavement. Her skirt fell just above her knees as she smoothed down the fabric. As her head
shifted, the Puppet Master bent over the center console, pretending to look for something in the passenger seat.

  Slowly counting to ten, he returned to the sitting position to find the woman strutting towards the courthouse. His session wasn’t due for another few hours, but he felt the pull to watch his obsession in action.

  He kept his distance from her on the security line, but his eye never wavered from her. He watched every move she made, and which courtroom she was in. Slipping in moments later, he took a seat in the back, watching as she took a seat in the front. Leaning forward, he could see her conversing with another man. Seeing the man dress in khaki pants, black sneakers, and a polo screamed client.

  The conversation appeared one sided, as the attorney gave her client her typical spiel. His eyes were focused on her chest and the cleavage that was bursting to pop out of her low cut top.

  “All rise!” the bailiff shouted. A sea of people stood as the judge entered the courtroom. As they sat, the bailiff called the first case.

  The attorney stepped forward, buttoning her blazer as her client followed her through the swinging door. She pointed to the table, ordering her client to sit down.

  “Your honor, my name is Rebecca Reynolds, and am representing Mr. Young in this case.”

  The Puppet Master smiled as he lounged back in his seat. His eyes locked on his target as she conversed with the judge. She pleaded the defense’s case, but ignored the prosecution. A deal had been put in place for the defendant to plead guilty to a D.W.I. Her client stood and looked at Rebecca. His eyes lowered to her cleavage and back up to her eyes. She nodded her head and turned to face the judge. Her client accepted the deal, ending up with a year of probation and sixty hours of community service. The judge banged the gavel, concluding their case. Rebecca escorted her client away to discuss what would happen next.

  Once Rebecca Reynolds strutted out of the courtroom, the Puppet Master decided to slip out and follow her. He listened for the clicks of her heels, noticing they stopped. Her eyes darted around the corridor, falling briefly on the Puppet Master. He smiled as he walked by, seeing her phone clutched in her hands. She dropped her head to check her message.