Power

by Debra Webb

  This was exactly why chief of police was as close to politics as Dan ever intended to get.

  “When did you discuss the preliminary results of a case that isn’t yours with someone in the coroner’s office?” Jess wasn’t Gina’s source; of that he was certain. And, as she pointed out, the odds that she had given his mother anything other than a hard time were slim to none. Yet she wasn’t being completely straight with him. He knew her too well.

  “That question is irrelevant. Why were her shoes set aside? What about the way she had to hike up the skirt of her dress? Feels like a lot of prep work for accidentally falling over the railing. And the bruise she got near the time of death matches the width and pattern of the handrail. So unless she climbed on something before jumping and then that something somehow got moved before we arrived, there is no way she jumped. Why aren’t those questions being asked?”

  Oh yeah. She had spoken to Schrader. That was the only way she could know about the bruise. He and Black had had a lengthy discussion about each of the inconsistencies she’d named. Dan was well aware of how the situation looked. But charges could not be levied unless they had evidence and motive. Speculation would not win a case in court.

  “We’re a team, Jess. All of us. You, Black, me… the whole department. I understand you reached certain preliminary conclusions about this case but the case is Black’s. If you have assessments or gained knowledge that would be of use, then by all means, share that knowledge with Black. But don’t walk around with this you-against-Black or you-against-me chip on your shoulder. That won’t help us get the job done.”

  “I think maybe you need to have this conversation with Chief Black. I have my doubts as to whether he’s interested in hearing anything I have to say. And, frankly, it sounds like the case is already closed.”

  Dan held up his hands in surrender. She was more right than she knew. Keep the peace, he reminded himself. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe Black doesn’t care what your assessments are, but I do.” He settled his hands on his desk. “Give me your latest thoughts on the Chandler case. I’m listening.”

  She stared at him for a moment as if assessing whether he was merely patronizing her or not. “What’s the motive? Evidence alone isn’t enough. We both know that. And when there’s no evidence, motive is everything.”

  “Since we don’t have any evidence,” Dan argued, “and no clear motive, we don’t exactly have a case for anything other than accidental death.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Well, now, Chief, that depends on your definition of evidence and motive.”

  “Touché,” he capitulated. “There are obvious inconsistencies that may or may not fall under the usual evidence categories, but those haven’t led us anywhere. As far as motive, Chief Black has dug deeply into all those close to the victim. There’s a sizable insurance policy the husband is set to gain, but he has an alibi that is confirmed by his cell phone records. He was, as he stated in the initial interview, at the Botanical Gardens when he and Darcy spoke last and during the time frame of her death.”

  “He could have paid someone to do the deed,” she countered.

  “Chief Black found no evidence to indicate that was the case.”

  “What time did that final call end?”

  He picked up the file on his desk and reviewed the list of calls made from Mayakovsky’s cell. “The last call ended at twelve thirty-one.”

  During the hesitation that followed, Dan could almost see the wheels turning in her head. She was calculating the time it took to drive from the Botanical Gardens to the Chandler home.

  “Fourteen minutes,” he said, relieving her of having to deal with the math. Chief Black had provided a Google map of the most direct route from the gardens to Chandler’s home. “Sufficient time for him to have removed the battery from his phone so that it didn’t reach out to any towers—or just leave it at the meditation garden until he returned—drive to Cotton Avenue, throw Darcy Chandler over the railing, and drive back without being seen.”

  “But you don’t believe that,” Jess challenged.

  “I do not.” Like Jess, Dan had some pretty good instincts of his own. Mayakovsky might be lying about a lot of things, but he was telling the truth when it came to how much he loved his wife. That, of course, didn’t mean he hadn’t flipped out and committed an impulsive act, but proving that would be almost impossible without some sort of evidence.

  “What about the affair she was having? Was that avenue pursued?”

  How the hell could she know about that? “What affair are you referring to?”

  She shrugged. “It’s probably just a rumor. I heard she was having an affair this go-around instead of the husband. Maybe the Russian didn’t like having the tables turned on him. Maybe that insurance policy started to look better and better. Or maybe the guy involved in the affair rubbed him the wrong way.”

  “As I said, Chief Black has investigated all areas of both Mayakovsky’s and Darcy’s personal and professional lives. If Mayakovsky was having an affair, we found no one who could corroborate those rumors. And, just so you know, the prenuptial agreement provided for a settlement that’s equivalent to the insurance payout, so money is not a viable motive.”

  “What about the dance moms? There are those who would do most anything to ensure their daughter’s position on the competition team. Corrine Dresher certainly seems the type to go to great lengths to get what she wants. And her daughter was the one who found Darcy and the one wearing the white boa.”

  “Chief Black is on top of it, Jess. He has given due consideration to anyone at all close to the victim. Darcy Chandler spent a lot of hours with her dancers that morning, including Katrina and her white boa. You need to trust him and me on this.”

  “I’m really trying, but—”

  The intercom on his desk buzzed. Damn it. This was not the time for an interruption. He’d asked his secretary to hold his calls.

  “Are we done here?” Jess stood. “I have work to do on the Simmons case. And that might be important.” She nodded toward the phone on his desk.

  “That can wait. I need to know we’re on the same—”

  The damned intercom buzzed again.

  “We can finish this another time.” She turned and strode toward the door.

  “Jess, wait.”

  Ignoring him as she so often did, she opened the door and came face-to-face with Annette.

  His secretary, Sheila, tried to peek beyond the two women. “Chief, I—”

  Instead of moving aside, Annette and Jess started talking at once. Sheila shook her head and walked away.

  “I’m sorry for the interruption,” Annette was saying.

  “We were finished anyway,” Jess tossed back.

  He’d spoken to Andrea not two hours ago and she’d seemed fine. Had something else happened that Annette felt couldn’t wait?

  The door had scarcely closed behind Jess and Annette was already around his desk and in his arms, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “What happened?” His impatience and frustration wilted.

  She burrowed her face in his jacket and murmured, “Brandon is leaving me and I don’t know what to do. I need you, Dan.”

  12

  If Jess were really lucky she would escape the building without running into any more trouble. Being called before the boss once a day was plenty. Running into his ex-wife in his office was just icing on the cake.

  Things felt strange between her and Burnett since he’d showed up at her motel room way after hours with Annette’s perfume on his jacket. Maybe the whole strange thing was her imagination running away with her. Or his way of keeping the necessary distance on the job. But it felt like something more complex than simply being discreet.

  Annette just kept showing up in the mix. Jess didn’t want to be jealous of her. If Annette needed Burnett’s help with Andrea, Jess certainly understood. But it hadn’t felt like Andrea was having real problems related to her abduction when she and Jess met earl
ier to view the video. Sure, the kid had reason to be all screwed up, but she’d seemed more determined than anything else. A little sad, yes, but mostly determined to help solve the mystery around her dance teacher’s death.

  Maybe Annette had decided she wanted Burnett back. A massive knot immediately formed in Jess’s gut. Annette and Brandon could be falling apart again. It had happened before.

  Jess couldn’t slow down to consider the concept or why she felt as if she’d swallowed a bag of rocks one by one. She needed off this floor and out of this building. Fact was, she didn’t want to analyze those confusing and abrupt feelings she suffered way too often of late. Burnett’s love life was no more her business than Annette’s was. Jess had made it clear with her rules that her relationship and Burnett’s was more like an adult version of friends with benefits.

  God, had she just thought that?

  It was true. She wasn’t supposed to get all hung up on the emotional issues.

  Get your mind on work, girl. The work rarely let her down. Just that once. With the Player.

  The next item on her agenda was checking in with Harper to see if he had ferreted out any more leads on this Nina woman and getting an update from the search team commander. Then she needed to pay a visit to the high-and-mighty Katherine Burnett. She owed Jess an explanation. Not that she actually expected to get one, much less an apology, but she did not intend to simply let it slide.

  “Now it’s my move.”

  At the elevator she decided the stairs would work to her advantage. Burn off a little adrenaline and avoid being anyone’s captive audience.

  Once inside the stairwell with the door closed between her and the fourth floor, she paused to catch her breath. She checked her cell for calls and set the ringtone from silent to that wonky clang she preferred—only because it was impossible to miss no matter the chaos surrounding her. She stared longingly at the steps that would take her down and out of the building. Away from any possibility of running into that trouble she wanted to avoid. The longer she was in Burnett’s presence the more likely he was to pick up on the idea that she was up to something. Yet part of her wanted to go back to his office and boot Annette Denton out of the way so she could come clean with him.

  How mad could he get at his own mother? He already knew about the ME’s concerns, so there was no need to spill on Schrader. The part that she really felt guilt over not sharing was the video Andrea had shown her. That he needed to know about. Jess had called Lori on the way over and given her the update.

  She really should tell Burnett but since he was otherwise occupied, she could drop by Black’s office and tell him. Would that put more pressure on Andrea? Would it have the slightest impact on Black’s final decision?

  Probably not. One documented argument that was a whole year old did not a motive for murder make. Except that the woman in the video was the last person to see Chandler alive, to their knowledge. And her daughter was the one to find the body and she’d been wearing that white boa.

  Black needed this information to properly assess his case.

  The door burst open behind Jess, and Deputy Chief Black joined her in the stairwell.

  Well, here was her chance.

  “Chief Black, I was just about to come by your office.”

  “That’s good, Chief Harris. Saves me the trouble of dropping by yours.”

  Great.

  Jess’s office was on the third floor in the only available space large enough to accommodate SPU. Black’s office, on the other hand, was just the other side of Burnett’s.

  He opened the stairwell door she had just exited. “After you.”

  Jess couldn’t help wondering as she passed Burnett’s office if Annette was still in there.

  One would think with a degree in psychology that she could head off those foolish and immature emotions. That she would have some extra insight that explained away those feelings of uncertainty that went along with her career as well as her personal life. But that wasn’t the case.

  Sometimes it just didn’t matter what you knew. The heart had a mind of its own.

  Just now, she had a feeling her heart was not the part of her that was in jeopardy.

  “Please, sit down, Harris. Let me get organized and we’ll get this done.”

  Jess perched on the edge of one of the chairs in front of his desk. Her desk was exactly like Black’s. Big, rosewood or mahogany. She never could tell the difference between the two. Her team members had the midlevel management desks. Faux wood and metal. They also had the more generic chairs. Like Black, Jess had the high-back, leather-tufted executive chair. The one glaring difference between their offices was the file cabinets. The ones lining the wall in her office were beige metal beasts. Black’s file cabinets were an exact match to the rich wood of his desk.

  But her window was bigger. She’d take that over wood file cabinets any day.

  “Chief Burnett assured me that you were not the source of the leak at Channel Six.”

  Startled to attention, a moment was required for Jess to formulate a response. “That’s right.” Burnett had told Black she wasn’t the leak?

  “You can understand,” Black suggested as he took his seat, “how I might have arrived at that conclusion.”

  Wait a minute. Her head was still spinning from his announcement about Burnett. “When did you speak to the chief?” As far as she knew, he was still in his office with Annette.

  “I was in his office when the news first aired.” Black adjusted his glasses. “I admit that you were the first person to come to mind. I was certain you were responsible but the chief assured me that was not possible.”

  Jess blinked, stunned just a little. “Is that why you wanted to talk?” She owed Burnett an apology or maybe he owed her one. Why had he made her feel as if he suspected her when he’d obviously defended her before they’d even discussed the situation?

  More of those confusing signals.

  “There’s more,” Black assured her. “Why don’t we get comfortable and do this right, Chief Harris? I think it’s time we found our common ground.”

  Oh Lord. She’d heard about Black’s let’s-get-comfortable briefings. “I’m all ears, Chief.”

  “You were not pleased about the Chandler case coming back to my division.”

  Old news. “I got over it.” Did every step have to be rehashed repeatedly?

  “Whether you realize it or not I have taken into consideration your thoughts on the shoes and the bruising on the victim’s leg. We’ve diligently attempted to address those issues, but there simply doesn’t appear to be any relevancy. Those two points, together or separately, do not change my final assessment of the tragedy that occurred.”

  Jess wasn’t really surprised. More disappointed than anything. Oddly, Burnett hadn’t talked as if the decision was a done deal. He’d assured her that Black was still weighing the case. “I hope you’re right, but my instinct says you’re not.” It was just the two of them. Might as well say what was on her mind.

  “We found no evidence of suicide or homicide. No glaring motive for the husband to want his wife out of the way.” Black turned his hands up. “I can only assume that Ms. Chandler dropped something or reached for something we could not find and fell in the process.”

  Jess had considered that theory. She had gotten down on her hands and knees and inspected the wooden ledge beyond the railing. She’d searched for an earring back. A ring. Anything. She’d found nothing.

  “So you’re going with accidental and calling it a day.” Now she really was disappointed.

  “The coroner has already signed the death certificate. He just called a few minutes ago. I was about to pass that news along to Chief Burnett but he’s busy at the moment. Unfortunately, this false leak to the press precluded my official public announcement. We’ll get to that in the morning, I suppose.”

  “Was the family notified?”

  “Of course.” He shook his head. “That’s actually the part I find so troubling
. This groundless leak does nothing but hurt the family.”

  Jess felt confident that Burnett’s mother wasn’t the only one behind the leak to the media. Dorothy Chandler, the grandmother, had most likely spearheaded the maneuver in an effort to head off Black’s public announcement. Ballsy lady. Was the woman so determined to find the truth that she’d hoped to force the BPD’s hand?

  Couldn’t blame her for that.

  “So that’s it? Doesn’t matter that the husband had one affair after the other or that Darcy Chandler was having one of her own? The problems between the husband and Corrine Dresher? The white boa feathers between her fingers? None of that matters?”

  Black’s gaze narrowed in suspicion. “Who said Darcy Chandler was having an affair?”

  Oops. “It may have been one of the dance moms.” That was a flat-out lie but it didn’t really matter now, it seemed. Funny how he honed in more on the affair than anything else Jess noted.

  “I don’t recall reading that in your interview reports.”

  “Really? I was sure I made note of the possibility of an affair on her part.”

  “Let me be clear. We are closing this case, Chief Harris. There is nothing more to be gained from keeping it open. With a high-profile family like this, dragging our feet in closing the case allows for exactly what happened today. Gossip and innuendos. For the family’s sake, we’re settling this business so that they may get on with their lives. No one wants to prolong the pain of their loss.”

  Evidently he was trying to tell her something, but the victim’s family was telling her something different. “Shouldn’t justice be our prevailing motive? Families like the Chandlers know the less pleasant aspects that come with their positions in society. Their every move, good, bad, or otherwise, is picked apart by the media. Why would we be swayed by that one way or the other?”