by Stella Bixby
“Would you like to explain to me why you think he is?” I asked.
“You think this is a game? You’ve been arrested. You could go to jail. You’ll probably lose your job. Especially if you don’t cooperate.”
“I don’t think it’s a game, but I also don’t think you have enough evidence to convict Jacob of the murders. If you did, you would have locked him up when Selena first went missing.”
“Maybe we’ve come upon additional information.”
“Like the arm and the shoe?”
“Among other things,” he said.
Was he talking about the board in Desmond’s house? I hadn’t had an opportunity to look through the pictures on my phone.
“Jacob has an alibi for both nights,” I said.
“You and Jacob seem to be good friends.” Bryant leaned back in his chair. “Maybe you helped him kill Desmond.”
Shayla stifled a gasp.
I gaped at him. Then panic welled up inside me. If they searched my car and found the check, they’d surely think the only reason I was defending Jacob was because he’d bribed me.
“Don’t look so surprised.” He ignored Shayla. “We know Desmond was harassing you. Texting and calling and showing up at your place of work.”
“He wasn’t harassing me. He was trying to get me to help him find Selena.”
“You mean find her killer?”
Damn. “Yeah, I mean her killer.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Did Desmond think she was still alive?”
“Who knows what he thought,” I said as airily as I could. “He was kind of crazy. But I didn’t kill him.”
“Where were you last night?” Bryant asked.
“I was at our apartment,” I said, looking at Shayla. “And then I was going to go to my boyfriend’s house, but I went to my parents’ house instead.”
Shayla frowned. Did she know I never had any intention of going to Garrett’s house?
“Did you go straight to your parents’ house?”
“Yep,” I lied. “You can ask my mom. She knows I was there.”
“We already have.”
If mom told them what time I got there, they’d know I lied. But by the look on Bryant’s face, she hadn’t.
“What would you think if I told you Jacob’s alibis have fallen through?”
“What do you mean, they’ve fallen through?” I asked.
“Elodie admitted she lied.”
“If she wasn’t with Jacob, does she have alibis for those nights?”
I was just throwing it out there, but the way Detective Bryant’s mouth twitched told me he hadn’t thought of this angle. Though I’m sure he would have gotten there.
“From what I hear, Elodie was only one piece of Jacob’s alibi,” I said. “Cedric can probably attest to where he was last night and maybe even the night of Selena’s disappearance.”
“Cedric has conveniently gone missing.”
“Then maybe he did it,” I said. “Maybe he killed them. I mean, he is the one who drives the Escalade.”
“Why would that matter?” Detective Bryant asked. “From what we know, Selena drove herself the night she was murdered—and yes—she was murdered. We may not have found a body, but no one could lose that much blood and live.”
“I guess you’re right.” I shrugged, thankful he hadn’t caught onto me knowing about Cedric’s car bashing into Desmond’s. Especially since they probably hadn’t found Desmond’s car yet.
“Do you know why Desmond was at the reservoir when he was killed? Or how he got there?”
He still thought I had something to do with all this.
“If I give you the information I have, will you let me go?” I asked.
“If I let you go, will you stop looking into this investigation?”
I didn’t answer. We sat staring each other down. I could see Shayla shift from one foot to another out of the corner of my eye.
Finally, Detective Bryant spoke. “I cannot give you permission to continue with this investigation.”
I didn’t respond.
“But I do want to know what you have. Let’s say, if it’s good enough, I’ll let you go.”
“That doesn’t seem very fair,” I said.
“It doesn’t have to be fair. I could lock you up for interfering with an investigation after being given multiple warnings not to do so.”
I considered this. I’d never be able to speak to Elodie if I was stuck in jail. “Okay, I’ll tell you what I have.”
He smiled. Shayla looked irritated but relieved. Her TO looked like an asshole.
“You saw the arm and the shoe. We both did.”
He nodded.
“But I’ve spoken to Jacob multiple times. He jogs at the reservoir every day. And he’s never acted out of sorts.”
“Maybe he’s just a good actor.”
“Or maybe he didn’t do it. I mean, today, he jogged right past the tent covering Desmond’s body without flinching.”
“You weren’t working this morning. How do you know that?”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Antonio told you, didn’t he?”
“No,” I said too quickly.
Shayla’s eyes narrowed.
“But you did talk to him this morning.”
He knew.
“I did.”
Shayla shook her head and looked down at her shoes.
“But it was because I wanted to know if Jacob said anything to him.”
“And?”
“He didn’t. He had no idea.”
“And did Antonio tell you it was Desmond?”
I didn’t want to get Antonio in trouble, but I couldn’t admit that I already knew. “Yes. But when I told Jacob, he was genuinely surprised and seemed almost sad.”
“What else did he tell you on your little joyride?”
This guy was getting on my nerves. “Nothing you probably don’t already know.”
“Try me.”
“He told me about the night Selena disappeared.”
Detective Bryant’s mouth twitched again. “And what exactly did he tell you?”
“If you let me go, I’ll let you listen for yourself.”
“You have a recording?”
I nodded.
He hesitated.
“Okay,” he finally said. “But if it’s not good enough information, you’ll be right back here.”
“Deal.”
Shayla and her TO stayed at the station while Bryant took me back to my car.
“I hear you’re pretty torn up about Luke leaving,” he said.
“He’s a friend,” I said, trying not to give up my true feelings.
“We’re all bummed by it too.”
Was he trying to be my friend now? Did he think that would make me want to give him more information?
“You know, if you wanted to become an officer, you’d probably be a good one.”
“Thanks, but I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to carry a gun. I don’t want to go on annoying calls. I’m not cop material.”
He laughed. “So you figure you’ll just take the fun parts?”
“I like to see justice served.” I shrugged. “And I don’t feel like justice has been served for Selena.”
He mumbled something under his breath.
“What’s really going on with this case?” I asked. “Did Jacob pay off the department to keep quiet?”
“If he had, do you think he’d be in a jail cell right now?”
“Then why did this case get pushed under the rug?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do you even know?”
“Here we are,” he said, pulling into the parking lot where I’d parked Cherry Anne. I gasped at the sight. Her windows had been bashed in, the trunk was open, and the tires were flat.
“What the hell happened here?” Detective Bryant asked.
I
turned an accusing eye on him.
“You and I both know the police wouldn’t do this to someone’s car.”
“Then who did?” I snarled.
“We’ll find out.”
I got out of the police car and carefully walked around the car.
“Don’t touch anything,” Detective Bryant said. “There might be prints.”
I wasn’t about to touch anything. When I got to the other side, a shiver ran down my spine.
The word STOP was spelled out in green spray paint that looked terrible against the red door.
“You’re gonna want to see this,” I said.
Detective Bryant came around the other side and frowned.
“Now do you think I’m responsible for Desmond’s murder?”
“I never thought you were,” he said. “That looks like a threat.”
“Stop what?” I asked.
“Investigating. We found a similar note at Desmond’s house.”
“What else did you find at Desmond’s house?” I asked, trying not to let on that I knew more than I should have.
“We’re still going through all of it. It was a disaster.” He looked inside the car. “It looks like they didn’t take anything.”
My work bag was still in the trunk, though all the contents were spilled out. My uniform shirt, duty belt, and bulletproof vest hadn’t been touched at all. My purse was on the floorboard of the passenger seat, while everything that was inside now littered the mat. And my phone was in the cupholder exactly as I’d left it.
“I never turned off the recording,” I said, reaching through the window careful not to cut myself on the shards of broken glass, and picked up the phone.
“You shouldn’t touch that.”
“Don’t you want to hear what’s on it?”
He hesitated then nodded. “Play it.”
17
The first part of the recording was basically what I remembered.
“Why were you asking about his cars?” Detective Bryant asked.
“I had a hunch.”
“What kind of hunch?”
I didn’t respond. I wasn’t about to give away that Desmond had called me and told me he was being rammed by a car like the one Cedric drove.
The rest of the conversation elicited very little reaction from Detective Bryant. He took a few notes when Jacob talked about the night Selena had died.
When we heard Detective Bryant arresting me, he didn’t look my way.
Then the recording was quiet.
The entire recording was four hours long.
We listened for a bit, but nothing came through. My patience was wearing thin. I fast-forwarded.
“What if we miss something?” Bryant asked.
“I don’t want to sit here for four hours listening to this with you. I can send you the recording, and you can listen to the entire thing yourself.”
I fast-forwarded some more. Still nothing.
“I will want you to send it to me.”
I fast-forwarded again and landed directly in the middle of what sounded like my windows being smashed in.
“Rewind it,” Bryant said.
I glared at him.
“Sorry. I just want to know what happened.”
“I do too,” I said and rewound it until it was silent again. Then we waited.
Finally, we heard what sounded like a car approaching—a loud car. The engine idled as we heard two doors slam shut.
Almost instantaneously, we heard the windows shatter, one by one. The sound brought tears to my eyes. Cherry Anne was almost like a member of my family.
“Do you see it?” A woman’s voice said.
Bryant looked at me expectantly.
I shrugged, my palms up. How was I supposed to know what they were looking for?
“It’s not here,” a man who sounded a bit like Cedric said. “Maybe he never gave it to her.”
Bryant looked at me expectantly. I shrugged. I had no idea what they were talking about.
“Open the trunk,” the woman said.
A shuffling to unlock the door and open the trunk, then a click. The voices became muffled, but it sounded like the two people were arguing.
We listened as they presumably dumped out my work bag. Thankfully they hadn’t taken my duty belt or badge. Not that having a park ranger badge would get them very far.
The woman’s voice was the next thing we heard. “It’s not here.”
“Maybe she doesn’t have it,” the man’s voice said.
“If she does, she could ruin everything.”
My mind reeled. What would I have that was worth breaking into my car for?
“Just leave the message, and let’s get out of here before someone sees us,” she said.
“Do I have to?” the man asked.
“Should I grab that pepper spray from the back?” she said, then laughed.
“That’s not even funny,” he said, but his voice wasn’t angry. They actually sounded like they were pretty chummy.
And now I knew the man was Cedric.
The faint sound of a spray paint can came and then stopped.
“And flatten the tires for good measure.”
“You want me to slash her tires?” Cedric sounded taken aback.
“No. Don’t slash them. Just let out the air. It’s already going to cost her a fortune replacing the windows and paint.”
Yeah it was.
I remembered the check in the pocket of my jacket in my backseat. I’d probably have to cash it now.
On the recording, we could hear the car doors close again and the car driving away.
There was still over an hour left on the recording, but the rest of it probably didn’t matter.
“Mind telling me what happened there?”
The only thing I knew for sure was that the man was Cedric. Otherwise, I was as clueless as he was. “I wish I knew,” I said. “Maybe they got the wrong Mustang.”
The look he gave me said he and I both knew that wasn’t the case.
“Either way, doesn’t this prove it wasn’t Jacob? I mean, he was in custody when all of this happened.”
“What makes you think whoever did this is the same person who killed Desmond and Selena?”
“Didn’t you say Desmond got the same note as I did? Wouldn’t that mean—”
“That you could be next?” Bryant gave me a pointed look. I hadn’t thought of it that way.
“Did you recognize the voices?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Did you?”
“I have a hunch, but I’m not entirely sure.”
“Care to share?” I asked.
“Why would I share when you refuse to do the same?”
“I know nothing,” I said, but we both knew I was lying.
“This is why I didn’t want you on the case in the first place. I know you know something. You can keep telling yourself you’re in it to find justice, but you can’t fool me. You’re either doing this because you like the thrill of the chase or because you like the attention you get when you solve a crime.”
I opened my mouth to refute his accusations, but he cut me off.
“Just send me the recording.” He handed me his business card with his cell written on the back. “Do you need a ride somewhere? We’re going to have to process this like a crime scene.”
“I’ll call my boyfriend,” I said. “I mean, fiancé.” I looked down at the ring. I still wasn’t used to calling him my fiancé.
When he was distracted calling the crime scene techs, I pulled my jacket from the backseat. The check and the note were still inside the pocket. I transferred them to my jeans pocket before asking Detective Bryant, “Can I take my jacket with me? I’m a bit chilled.”
He glanced over and shook his head, motioning for me to put it back, then returned to his phone call.
I put it back and wrapped my arms around my torso. It wasn’t a particularly cold day, but all the adrenaline in my body had dissipated. Chills ran up and do
wn my arms.
18
My car was already being processed by the time Garrett showed up.
“Sorry, babe. I got here as quickly as I could.” He looked over at my car. “Holy cow. What’s this all about?”
“It’s nothing,” I said, instantly regretting asking him to come pick me up. I should have called my sister or Nikki. This would just make Garrett more worried than he already was.
“It doesn’t look like nothing. It looks like you could be in danger.”
“Give me one second,” I said and walked back over to the trunk of my car. “Can I take my uniform stuff for work?”
I had asked the guy processing the items, but Detective Bryant cut in. “You won’t be needing them.”
“What?”
“You’ve been suspended.” He held out a printed email from Ursula Vilago, the Parks and Recreation Director. My big boss.
“And here I thought we were bonding.”
“I didn’t get you fired. That should count for something.”
“When do I get un-suspended?” I asked.
“That depends on your actions,” he said.
I knew he wasn’t talking about how quickly I could solve the crimes.
“Once I’m confident you won’t interfere anymore, I’ll ask the director to reinstate you.”
“They can’t suspend me on your word alone.”
“Even if Ursula and I weren’t personal friends, your arrest today sealed the deal.”
I let out a frustrated growl. “How am I supposed to pay my bills?”
“Not my problem,” he said and turned away from me.
“You can’t take anything that was in the car when this happened,” the crime scene technician said.
“I got that,” I said, my voice angry.
I probably should have put my phone back, but there was no way I would give them my phone loaded with incriminating evidence. Thankfully, I’d already gotten the check and the note.
I got into Garrett’s car without a word.
“Did I hear him say you’re suspended from your job and that you got arrested today?”
“He’s just being a prick,” I said. “I did nothing wrong.”
“Didn’t he tell you not to intrude?”
I glared at Garrett.
“Sorry,” he said.
I looked back at the road.