The interview room door swung open and Navarro entered with a bottle of water, which he handed to Julia.
“Almost done, Julia. Washington wants to talk to you. Your account of events matches up with Prejean’s.”
“So Prejean is saying that LaBeau didn’t actually confess to the killings.”
“Well, Prejean said LaBeau didn’t deny it.”
“The department can’t wrap this thing up with a pretty bow. What did you find at LaBeau’s house?”
Navarro gave an almost indiscernible head nod in the direction of what Julia knew was the two-way mirror as Washington entered the room and handed Navarro a piece of paper.
“Another address we need to check. I just called the sheriff’s department in Montcalm County. LaBeau’s wife said he had a cabin up there,” Washington said.
“So that means you didn’t find anything to connect LaBeau to the Magic Man Killer at his house here in Detroit. Did LaBeau write any tickets to April Young, Heather Burns, or Christy King? That’s circumstantial, but still, it’s a solid connection if LaBeau made contact with all three women. Come on, Beth, you said I was embedded in the story. I almost got killed an hour ago, so I’d like the courtesy of some answers.”
“Navarro spoke to Christy. Go ahead. You can tell Julia, but it’s off the record for now.”
“Christy said she was pulled over by a cop in the city a few months ago for running a red light, but she said it was dark and she couldn’t be sure if the officer who pulled her over matched the photo we showed her of LaBeau,” Navarro said. “She said the officer didn’t hit on her.”
“But we can’t rule out that it wasn’t LaBeau. He pulls her over, sees that Christy is his type, and he gets her address from her license,” Washington said.
“What about the two victims?” Julia asked.
“LaBeau never wrote a ticket to April Young or Heather Burns. But he still could’ve pulled them over, looked at their licenses, gotten the information he needed, and let them go without a citation. We’re questioning their family members to see if either victim mentioned anything about being stopped and possibly harassed by a police officer,” Washington said. “This is turning into a public relations nightmare. LaBeau was a cop. The fact alone that he was targeting women and offering a pass on a ticket or an arrest for sex or their phone number is not going to go over well. With the past chief’s incarceration, this department’s reputation has barely made its way out of the Dumpster fire it was in. And now we’ve got this.”
“LaBeau doesn’t represent the entire department,” Julia said. “And you found out what he was doing.”
“You found out,” Washington answered.
“What about the voodoo angle?” Julia asked.
“Branch grew up in the South and moved here when he was a teenager. His wife wasn’t aware of him practicing any kind of black magic, but we got some names of his relatives, and Russell is trying to track them down.”
“Were there ever any complaints lodged against LaBeau?” Julia asked.
“Off the record?” Washington asked.
“Your call. The press is going to start digging around about this,” Julia said. “I’d be completely transparent if I were you. Otherwise, it looks like you’ve got something to hide.”
Washington looked up to the ceiling and shook her head. “This was before my time as chief, but there was a complaint filed against LaBeau by a woman he pulled over who was drunk. She claimed he tried to come on to her, but his dash cam was off, so it was her word against his. IA investigated, and it turned out the woman had a history of suing people, trying to make a quick buck, and Internal Affairs cleared him. Are you absolutely sure that LaBeau didn’t admit to killing those women?”
“I’m positive. LaBeau said something about not ‘going down for this,’ and it ‘was a mistake.’ There could be a lot of different interpretations for what he meant.”
“The mistake could be his own admission that what he did was wrong,” Washington said.
“Or that he was being wrongfully accused as the killer,” Julia added. “Pinning LaBeau is a quick and dirty way to wrap up the case. But what if you’re wrong? Do you honestly think the killings are going to stop?”
“I’ve got a press conference to go to. If you get a call . . .”
“If I hear from the Magic Man Killer, you’ll be the first to know. If LaBeau didn’t do it, then the real killer wouldn’t want someone else to take credit for his work. If you’re straight up with the press and public that you’re looking at LaBeau as a suspect in the murders, I think it would piss off the real killer. He’d call me, and then you’d have your answer.”
“If it’s not LaBeau, we’ll see if the devil wants to come out and play. Julia, you’re free to go. Time for me to face the jackals.”
“Whether it was LaBeau or not, we still haven’t found Charlotte,” Julia said.
“No body, we keep looking for her, no matter what,” Navarro said. “I’ll walk you to your car, Julia.”
Navarro steered Julia to the back exit to avoid the media that were gathering in front of the precinct. Julia felt an odd sense of not being with her regular crew, since she and Navarro bypassed the press and arrived at the outdoor parking lot and her SUV a block away from the station.
“Washington wants the killer to be LaBeau,” Julia said.
“Not necessarily. It would solve one problem, but create another one for the department. She’ll do the right thing. Until we confirm LaBeau is MMK, I want you to stay at the apartment. Washington is pulling the surveillance detail off you and your family, so you need to stay close. I need you to do one more thing for me.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t want you to be alone with Prejean until we wrap things up.”
“Prejean just saved my life.”
“I don’t trust him. Tillerman said Prejean’s story about meeting him at the New Orleans airport wasn’t true.”
“Tillerman is a liar. Why would you take his word over Prejean’s ?”
“Right now, anything that pertains to you, I need to look at. Corporal Smith has a connection in the New Orleans PD. I asked him to give the cop a call. It was unofficial, so it wouldn’t come back to Prejean. I asked Smith to make out like he was just curious about what kind of officer Prejean is, since he wants a job here in Detroit.”
“You ran a background check on my friend?”
“It wasn’t a background check. Too many things about Prejean aren’t adding up to me. The NOLA cop said about two months ago, Prejean and his partner got a call on a domestic. Prejean shot and killed the common-law husband, because he said the suspect pulled a gun. The woman who got beat up claimed Prejean planted the weapon after he shot the guy.”
“Prejean is a good cop. He wouldn’t do that.”
“His partner vouched for him, and IA cleared Prejean of any wrongdoing. He kept his badge, but there’s still a cloud around him. That’s why I think he wants a transfer to Detroit. I think he also could’ve planted the voodoo doll at the park. Whether he’s the killer or not, he wanted to make out like he was still helpful to the investigation. Things aren’t good at home, and if he gets good points on the MMK case, he slides into a job in Detroit.”
“If you’re liking Prejean for the killer, then explain to me how would he be able to scout out the victims’ every move before their murders if he was in Louisiana?”
“He could’ve done it while he was on leave during the IA investigation. He was sidelined when April Young was killed, and he wasn’t on duty the day Heather Burns was murdered.”
“Come on, Ray. That’s a stretch. I don’t like what you’re doing here.”
“If you’re mad at me for looking into Prejean, I’m sorry. But I have to check him out. If he didn’t do anything, then I stand corrected. My mistake. But I have to be sure you’re okay.”
“If you and Prejean don’t like each other, that’s one thing. But if you’re accusing him of being the killer, you’re wrong,” Julia sa
id. She got into her vehicle and slammed the door. “I’m heading back to the apartment to see my kids.”
“If the Magic Man Killer is still out there and he sees the press conference about LaBeau potentially being the killer, he might want to make a showboat move. Stay put at the apartment and I’ll try to get there as soon as I can. I’m not trying to be a jerk about your friend. I’m just trying to look out for you and your boys.”
“I know, Ray,” Julia conceded.
“So we’re good?”
“Of course.”
“All right,” Navarro said, sounding relieved. “Don’t let your guard down.”
He leaned in through the open window, gave Julia a quick kiss, and then rapped his knuckles on top of her car. “I mean it, Gooden. That paranoia that you’ve carried around with you since you were a kid? This time, it’s okay to hold on to it tight.”
* * *
Julia sat on the floor in the living room of the temporary apartment. She had her shoes off and each little boy sitting by her side. Will was engrossed in playing a smashup derby battle with two of his miniature figurines, Spider-Man and one of his archenemies, Venom, while Logan, whose black magician hat was perched on top of his head, practiced shuffling a deck of cards.
Julia ran a finger over the silver Peace locket around her neck, the one Charlotte had given her, and realized the crucial first twenty-four hours of her friend being missing were coming to a fast close. The ticktock of the inevitable likelihood that Charlotte would be found alive was now a pipe dream at best.
“We are out of butter, and I need to pick up some groceries at the store,” Helen said. Helen was wearing her coat, a blue scarf was draped over her hair and tied at her neck, and she clutched her purse at her side. “I go out now and take the boys so you have a few minutes. You look tired, Miss Julia. Little boys will come with me. Ah, I see the extreme excitement from the children who won’t even look at me when I offer to take them out for some fresh air. Fine. Bribery then. We stop at the ice cream parlor first.”
“I want to go with Helen,” Will said. He jumped up with his toys still clutched in his hands and gave his mother a kiss on her cheek. “Sorry, Mamma.”
“It’s okay, sweet boy. You didn’t do anything wrong. But Helen doesn’t need to cook.”
“Of course I cook. A new place, we need some normalcy. It’s good for you, good for the children, and, especially, good for me. I’ve been stuck all day in this apartment with the policeman standing guard. Now we are free. One hour or so, we will be back. Come on, boys, get your coats. We give your mother some time to rest.”
“I don’t want to go. I left my tape recorder in Uncle Ray’s apartment. I have an idea for a magic trick I want to try,” Logan said.
“Logan can stay with me. Helen, I need to talk to you about something. In private.”
Julia pulled Helen into the hallway and away from curious ears.
“The police think the officer who committed suicide is the killer they’ve been investigating. But there’s still a chance he’s not. I don’t think you or the boys are in danger. I believe the killer’s only interest is in me. If you insist on going out, keep Will as close to you as possible. Never let him out of your sight. And if anything happens, or anything gives you pause, no matter how small, you need to make me a promise.”
“I know. I call you or Mr. Ray. My life spent with you must require that I keep you both on my speed dial. What a world.”
Julia helped Will put on his coat and kept a guarded watch as Helen and Julia’s youngest son made it to the elevator. She then affixed the dead bolt and the lock on the door handle and returned to the living room, where Logan had his deck of cards fanned out across the floor.
“I need the tape recorder in Uncle Ray’s place.”
“We’ll get it, but I want to talk to you about something first. I’m not trying to scare you, but it’s a good reminder. If anything ever happened to me, who would you call?”
“Uncle Ray.”
“Good. Tell me his number again.”
Julia waited until Logan recited Navarro’s personal cell phone.
“Now can I get the recorder? I want to do a ventriloquist trick.”
“I’m going to make a work call in the bedroom. It’s to my editor, and the details aren’t for little boys to hear.”
“Time-out, Mom. How about you let me go to Uncle Ray’s for a couple minutes? You can take me over and then I can find the tape recorder and practice my trick until you’re done. I’ll lock the door. I swear, I won’t let anyone in. I promise.”
“ ‘Time-out’?” Julia asked. “What’s that all about?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful. All the kids on my basketball team say it. Come on, Mom. Let me go to Uncle Ray’s. I won’t do anything stupid. I swear.”
“I don’t know,” Julia said, and analyzed the situation in her head. She’d given Virginia only a brief lowdown of what happened with LaBeau back at the abandoned restaurant in Cass Corridor, and she knew she’d need to get into some graphic details that she didn’t want Logan to hear.
“Five minutes. And you keep the door locked. Swear to me, Logan. The only person you would open the door to would be Uncle Ray, or Helen, or me.”
“I promise, Mom.”
“I don’t love this, but come on.”
At the front door, Julia peered out the keyhole and unfastened the locks when she saw the hallway was empty. She let herself and Logan into Navarro’s apartment with her spare key, scooted Logan inside, and clicked the dead bolt in place.
“I’m going to check the apartment first before I leave you alone in here.”
“You mean like look in closets and under beds? Can I help?”
“You practice your trick. Mom will handle it.”
Julia scoured every potential hiding place in the apartment, and when she was satisfied, she took a seat next to Logan on Navarro’s couch and grabbed his hand.
“I’m going next door and I’m going to lock the door behind me. What are the rules?”
“I know. I don’t open the door for anyone. Do we need a secret code if something happens?”
“Nothing is going to happen.”
“Things always happen, Mom. I got it. If one of us is in trouble, we bang hard on the wall, kind of like Morse code. Two times, like this,” Logan said, and pounded his little fist against the common wall between the two apartments. “And then we call Uncle Ray.”
“Like I said, nothing is going to happen. But if it did, you’d call Uncle Ray and wouldn’t leave this apartment even if you knew I needed help. Promise me.”
“Okay. I promise.”
“Practice your trick and I’ll be back in a few minutes. No trying to eavesdrop on my conversation with my editor by putting your ear against the wall. I know your ways, little boy.”
Julia kissed the top of Logan’s shiny black hair and let herself out. She locked the door to Navarro’s unit and returned to their apartment to call her editor.
The doorbell buzzed as soon as she reached the living room, the unfamiliar chime making Julia jump.
Julia tried to walk soundlessly, her feet treading lightly across the carpet until she reached the peephole and a view of the common hallway of the eleventh floor.
Prejean stood on the other side of the door.
“Julia, are you there? It’s Prejean. Is everything okay? I heard that you were here.”
Navarro’s warning hung in Julia’s head, but then she flashed to an image of her old friend coming to her rescue, gun in hand, when LaBeau was about to kill her.
“Hold on,” Julia said. She grabbed her cell phone in case her gut was wrong and opened the door up a few inches so the protective chain was still in place.
“Washington told me she pulled the plug on your cop babysitter. I figured that was a bad move until she can figure out whether LaBeau is her man. I heard you left the station, so I wanted to come by before I left, to be sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you going to let me in? Some hospitality you Midwesterners have. Shoot, I got perps who treat me better than this.”
“I’m sorry, but let’s catch up later.”
“Is someone in there with you?”
“No, I promise.”
“I don’t believe it. Back up. I’m going to break down the door.”
“No. Don’t do that. I’m fine.”
Julia watched as Prejean reached for his weapon, preparing for a showdown.
“Okay. Hold on,” Julia said. She unlatched the security chain and opened the door for Prejean to come inside.
He kept his weapon leveled as he entered the apartment and pushed Julia behind him.
“Prejean, I’m alone. I’m not being held against my will. Without a security detail, I’m just being cautious.”
“Well, that’s good, but you don’t need to be that way with me,” Prejean said. He secured the gun back in his holster and locked the door behind them. “I’m heading back to New Orleans pretty soon. It looks like the case is wrapping up. I’d like to stay and try to find Charlotte, but my supervisor doesn’t want me to be on loan any longer. Are you sure you’re okay, girl? You look kind of funny.”
“You weren’t at the coffee shop when the police set up Tillerman. Why was that?”
“Because I was looking for Charlotte. You know I always got your back, but you had a fleet of cops around you. I wouldn’t have let you go there if I didn’t think you’d be safe.”
“Tillerman told Navarro the story about you meeting him at the airport was a lie, that he didn’t even fly down to New Orleans after I called and warned him not to come.”
“Well, darlin’, that boy is the one who’s lying. I met him there at the Delta Terminal, and he got on a plane back home. Why’s Navarro trying to cause trouble with you and me? This is where this is coming from, right? You can tell him, I’m not after his girl.”
Prejean took a step toward Julia and she backed up, down the length of the hallway into the living room.
“When we were in the park in Royal Oak, did you plant that voodoo doll in the tree?”
“What are you talking about, and why are you moving away from me? You know who I am. Navarro’s been putting poison in your mind about me, like sewage in the water killing the fish.”
You Fit the Pattern Page 27