Elusive Justice (Kensington-Gerard Detective series Book 2)

by K. T. Roberts

  “I know you’re up here, son. C’mon out.” Zach said.

  Jake’s body trembled, the flashlight now shining in his eyes and blinding him. He covered his eyes with his hands as though doing so would make the man carrying it go away. Zach moved the beam to the side and climbed up until he was on the attic floor, easing his way over to where he saw the boy and squatted down in front of him.

  “Hey buddy,” Zach said. “Don’t be afraid. I’m a cop and I’m here to help you. My name is Detective Gerard.” He placed the heavy badge in Jake’s hands so he could feel it. “Are you okay?”

  Jake didn’t acknowledge. “You saw what happened, didn’t you?” Jake’s deep blue eyes continued to stare. Zach extended his hand. “C’mon out here so we can talk. Okay?”

  Jake wasn’t sure what to do, but the man’s voice sounded friendly. He didn’t look like he was going to hurt him. Using a slow crabwalk, Jake made his way out of the corner and stopped in front of Zach who pulled him to his feet, his brows pulling together in a frown.

  “You have blood on your shirt and knees. Did you get hit?” Jake remained speechless. “Can I take a look at your stomach so I know you’re okay?” Jake took a quick step backward. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Please let me take a look.” Jake pulled his t-shirt up while Zach shined his flashlight over the boy’s chest. “Yeah. There’s a nice man downstairs I’d like to have look at those cuts. Okay, buddy?” No response. “Will you come downstairs with me?”

  Jake nodded in agreement, then winced from the pain and rested his hand on his stomach. His lower lip quivered when he looked up at Zach and it must have been the warmth in Zach’s eyes, the color of coal, that helped Jake unleash the tears he’d been holding in. Zach put his arms around the boy and allowed him to cry with the boy’s shoulders shaking from his sobs.

  “It’s going to be okay, buddy,” Zach said pulling a clean hankie from his back pocket and handing it to him. Jake blew his nose while Zach was patting his back to reassure him he was safe. “You’re gonna be okay, buddy. I promise.”

  After Jake had pulled himself together, Zach spoke. “You ready to go downstairs?” Jake slowly agreed. “I’ll go down first.”

  Zach stepped backward and waited for Jake to do the same. When the boy was on the steps, he continued down until they both reached the bottom where McGee was waiting for them.

  Seeing McGee had Zach glaring at him as he hit the last step. Zach wasn’t fond of Red because he was lazy, and certain the guy must have known someone higher up to have achieved the rank of detective. He heaved out a sigh and hoped Jessie, who was now working in Missing Persons, was happier than he was. He told himself to stop whining and do his job.

  “What are you doing here, McGee?” Zach asked. “Why aren’t you outside canvassing like I told you to do?” He said, helping Jake down onto the floor.

  “I came back to fill my bottle with water and heard you talking to someone. I figured it was the suspect and thought you might need my help,” he said.

  “Well, that was very nice of you, but how much canvassing did you get done?” Zach asked.

  “I didn’t finish. ATF is next door.” Zach held up his finger.

  “Hold that thought. Let me get someone to look at this young man’s cuts.” He called out to a medic. “Can one of you guys take a look at this kid’s stomach and chest? He needs medical attention.”

  The medic walked Jake into another room away from his father’s office. When the medic asked him to remove his t-shirt so he could examine him, Jake looked to Zach who nodded in the affirmative. Zach returned to his conversation with McGee.

  “ATF raid? The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives?” McGee nodded. Without another minute passing, Zach pulled out his cell phone and called dispatch. “Detective Gerard here. Why wasn’t I told there was an ATF raid on the house next door?” he asked with belligerence.

  “You should have been told when you got the call to the address,” the clerk said. “I can’t speak for the previous dispatcher, but my shift started exactly five minutes ago, otherwise I would have told you, Zach.”

  He huffed. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t told.” Frustrated, he blew out a breath tired this dispatch wasn’t as forthcoming with information as the two-one precinct. Disconnecting the call, he turned to McGee. “Did you talk to them?”

  “I did, but you know how those guys are.” McGee stared at Zach blankly. “They’re not very friendly and didn’t offer much of an explanation.”

  “Did you ask what happened? Whether there was an exchange of fire outside?” Zach questioned angrily.

  “Yeah,” McGee said flatly. “One of the agents told me after I mentioned we had a victim, so he filled in some of the details.” McGee shook his head. “I tried pushing him a little harder to get more information and he finally spilled the beans and told me as soon as they raided, all hell broke loose and the guys scattered.”

  “I’m always amazed at some of these agencies by their lack of preparation when it comes to raids. What the hell did they think they were going to do?” Zach said. “Stand still with their hands in the air?”

  “I guess.” McGee rolled his shoulders and grimaced.

  “And, so what else happened?” Zach asked impatiently.

  “He said agents ran after them and that’s when they exchanged fire. He said a stray bullet could have gone anywhere. I guess they never thought about anyone being home next door.”

  “Never thought of anyone being home?” Zach smirked at McGee. “So like them. More interested in the guns than a potential homicide.”

  “Well, maybe I misunderstood.” McGee shrugged.

  “You probably didn’t, McGee.”

  “Right before I came inside,” he continued, “I noticed ATF was in the process of moving evidence out. Pretty big haul from what I could see.” McGee angled his head to the side. “You know how territorial those guys are.” McGee removed something from his pocket and began clipping his fingernails. Zach stopped talking, which caused McGee to look up.

  “Do you mind?” Zach said with sarcasm that didn’t stop McGee from proceeding.

  McGee didn’t bother looking up this time. “Hey, it’s better than walking around with ragged fingernails.”

  “Well, perhaps you should leave the grooming for when you’re at home.” Zach was biting on his lips to stop before he got carried away. The main focus at the moment was this young boy. “Before you return to your canvassing, I want you to go over there and get whatever firearms were used, including ATF weapons so we can have ballistics confirm if one of their agents killed our victim, or it was one of the gun runners. Now get back out there and be tough. If they know you’re uncomfortable about stating what you want, they’ll walk all over you.” McGee saluted and turned on his heels.

  Zach returned to the boy’s bedroom where the medic was taking care of his cuts. “How’s he doing?” he asked.

  “We’re getting rid of those nasty cuts,” the medic said. “Aren’t we, Jake?” The boy nodded.

  “So that’s your name.” He extended his hand hoping to make the kid feel better knowing he had a friend and wasn’t alone, “Does Jake have a last name?” he asked.

  “Thomas.”

  “Where’s your mom, Jake?” Zach asked.

  “I don’t have a mom. It’s only Dad and me.” Jake gave Zach a soulful look. “Is my dad going to be okay?”

  Zach slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, buddy.” After hearing Jake had lost both parents, he wanted to cry for the kid. He knew what it felt like to lose a parent, and not speaking with the other, but he wasn’t an eleven-year old boy.

  “How about other relatives? Do you have someone I can call?”

  “I have an Aunt Irene.”

  “Where does she live?”

  “Browns Lane.”

  “That’s good, Jake. Would you happen to know her phone number?”

  “I can look it up,” he said, and, then made a beeline toward his father’s of
fice before Zach had a chance to stop him. The paramedic threw his arms up in disgust.

  “Detective, seriously. Can’t you wait until I’m finished before you ask him questions?”

  Zach caught his plea on the fly as he took off after the boy. “Jake, don’t—” But he was too late; the boy had already seen the coroner leaning over his father’s dead body while the CSI team dusted for fingerprints. Jake screamed and shot down the hall to another room, slamming the door behind him.

  Zach ran after him and opened the door, but Jake wasn’t sitting on the bed. Remembering what it was like to be traumatized at his age, Zach had a hunch he might be under his bed. Getting down on all fours, Zach ducked his head down to see. Jake was curled up into the fetal position, sucking his thumb, his body trembling. Zach tried to reach out to him with his hand, but Jake jerked back further.

  “It’s all right, Jake,” he said, and decided it was probably better to wait a while to question the boy. “We can talk later. Okay?” Zach wasn’t sure if Jake heard what he’d said because his hands were now over his ears. Zach walked back out of the room into the hall.

  “I need to get him checked out,” the medic said, rushing toward him.

  “I know. Let me see what I can do.” Zach reentered the room a few minutes later. Stooping down, he called out to the boy. “Jake, I know I told you I’d give you some time, but the medic needs you to let him finish. So please come out from under there. You don’t want those cuts to get infected, do you?” Jake wasn’t moving. Zach stretched his arm under the bed. “Give me your hand, Bud.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “MRS. STONE?” Zach said standing on the porch of the small bungalow in front of the screen door. Eyeing his surroundings while he waited, he noticed an old beat up 1998 Chrysler mini-van parked in the driveway. Tiny handprints covered the back windows of the vehicle. The dark blue paint on the roof of the vehicle had begun to fade. Zach took notice that the screen door was in desperate need of repair too. The paint on the door frame was chipped and peeling. That told him she was either single or had a lazy husband.

  Holding out their badges for verification, Zach eyed the heavyset woman, who appeared to be in her early thirties, and whose kinky permed hair resembled dry hay. He didn’t know much about permanents, but he was relatively certain it was a botched up job.

  “NYPD, ma’am. I’m Detective Zach Gerard, from the five-one precinct, homicide division, and this is my partner, Detective Red McGee.”

  “Homicide?”

  “May we come inside?” he asked.

  She seemed rattled by the fact he’d said homicide division. “Not until you tell me what this is about.”

  “Jake Thomas.”

  “Oh God, no! What happened to Jake?”

  “Nothing, ma’am, but can we please come inside so we can talk in private?” he asked again.

  Her facial expression seemed to change after he’d confirmed nothing happened to Jake. Taking a step to the side, she opened the door to allow them to enter. Slightly disheveled, she smelled like Clorox as did everything else.

  “Sorry to be such a mess,” she said and adjusted the headband she wore to keep hair from falling in her eyes. “I was scrubbing the floors.” She blew out an exhaustive breath.

  A muscle ticked in Zach’s jaw when McGee tripped over the landing. Breaking his fall, McGee grabbed onto the side of the door and managed to steady himself. Zach gave a disgruntled sigh and shook his head. McGee was always doing something stupid. He told himself he had to stop getting caught up in McGee’s drama, that no matter how annoyed he got over the things he did, the guy wasn’t going to change.

  “Are you all right?” the woman asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.” His face flushed a bright red. “My ego’s a little bruised, but that’s nothing new. I didn’t see that extra bump there.” He pointed.

  She gestured for them to follow her to the living room and headed down the short hallway. Zach glanced around the room and raised his brows. After seeing the outside of the house and the old relic car she drove, he was surprised to see the cleanliness of her house.

  As he watched her move across the floor, her long strands of dark brown hair, now wet from perspiration hung down and swayed with the movement of her hips.

  She adjusted her headband that seemed to be holding her bangs out of her eyes and made her way over to a bulky armchair covered in a floral print. “Tell me what happened to Jake?” she said with exasperation.

  “He’s okay,” shot out of McGee’s mouth so quickly Zach never had a chance to say a word.

  Zach cleared his throat. “His father was shot and killed early this morning.” The woman gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “I wish I could give you more of the details about what happened, but I can’t. What I can tell you is Jake is physically fine, and other than some cuts on his chest from crawling on his stomach over broken glass to get to the phone to call 911, he’ll be okay.”

  “Aww, that poor kid. He must have been so scared.” She shook her head and sighed. “Can I see him?”

  “As soon as you’re cleared, Child Services will schedule an appointment with you. In the meantime, I’d like to ask you a few questions,” Zach said.

  “Okay. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I’ll tell you what I know.”

  “Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt Mr. Thomas?” he asked.

  “No. Harold was a quiet man who idolized his son and vice versa.”

  “Do you know why he was at home?”

  “Harold worked from home. He did it so he could keep an eye on Jake.” She stopped talking when the back door slammed and a small child with flaming red hair rushed inside the house. “I’m hungry, Aunt Irene,” she whined.

  “Excuse me,” she said and walked to the kitchen cabinet, reached inside and pulled out a bag of cookies. “Here, Jackie.” She handed the child two cookies. “Give one of those to Billy.”

  “But I want two cookies for me and two for Billy.”

  “You’ll spoil your dinner and your mama is going to be pretty mad at me if you don’t eat.” She gently brushed the child’s curly hair away from her face. “So why don’t you be a good girl and go back outside and share your cookies with Billy. Okay?”

  “Okay,” the child said begrudgingly and took off like a shot calling out Billy’s name.

  “Are you related to those children too?”

  “No. I’m their babysitter.”

  “Were you close to Jake?” Zach kept a watchful eye on her facial expressions to determine whether she was telling the truth.

  “We had a pretty good relationship. He was a very nice boy—well-mannered and very respectful. I’ve watched him for several years, but as you can see, I watch a lot of kids,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “That poor child. He’s such a sensitive boy. I can’t imagine how he’s handling this. Thank God he’s okay. I am curious about one thing though, Detectives, what made you come to me?”

  Zach’s brows furrowed from the surprise of her question. “We’re here because Jake told us you’re his aunt.” Zach ran a hand against his brisk chin.

  “That was a formality Harold insisted upon—I’m not a relative.” Zach jerked his head back in surprise. He’d wanted to ask her more serious questions, but she continued talking. “I don’t think he has any other family left. I know his mother died when he was three. Harold tried to stay home as much as he could and still earn a salary to support them, but he needed someone who was reliable, and that was me.”

  “So, you’re not related?” McGee asked.

  “Well, the kid didn’t have any other family, so I guess because he saw me more than other people, Harold told him I was his aunt.” Zach jotted down some notes.

  “That changes everything,” Zach said.

  “How do you mean?” she asked.

  “Well, it means that Family Services won’t be interviewing you to be Jake’s guardian.”

  “But I’m the only ‘so-called’ relat
ive he knows. I’ve watched him for seven years, so I might as well be a relative.” She sighed. “Does that mean I’ll never see him again?”

  “No. It doesn’t,” McGee interrupted. “You could apply for adoption.”

  “Well, I don’t know if I would want to adopt him. But that means he’ll be put in one foster home after another. I don’t want to see that happen to the kid.”

  Zach placed his hand on McGee’s arm to stop him. “I’ve got this McGee.” He turned to the woman, “So then how did you know the deceased?”

  “Harold and I met when he used to eat breakfast and lunch at the diner where I worked in the Bronx. He was pretty quiet then, but we became friends from his frequent visits. Then after his wife died, he came out of his shell a little bit. When I lost my job, he asked where I was going to apply for another job. At the time, I had no idea, but when he told me he had a son who was going to need some looking after, he wanted to know if I’d watch him. Quite honestly, up until that point, I didn’t even know he had a son, let alone that he’d been married. I really hadn’t thought about babysitting for children, but he was willing to pay me good money so I accepted the job . . . and,” she gestured toward the voices outside, “that’s actually how I got my start. You know, running my own day nursery.”

  “What else can you tell me about Mr. Thomas?” Zach asked. “Do you know who his employer is?”

  “I didn’t ask, but like I said, he was so secretive, I’m pretty sure he worked for the government.”

  “Did he have a badge or something that made you think that was his employer? Government plates on his vehicle?”

  “No. I suppose I shouldn’t have said that since I really don’t know, but I have other friends who do work for the government and they act the same way Harold did. They have rules that no one else but them follows. You know what I mean?”

  “No, I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. He worked very hard, but he was pretty laid back . . . except when it came to Jake.”