“Tell me about the clerks in the typing pool.”
“Well, Janet Everton’s two teenage daughters were abducted at twelve. The abductor apparently thought they had money because he called for ransom. They were so poor, they barely had enough money to pay their bills.”
“Oh God, that poor woman and what she must have gone through,” Jessie said.
“She believes her girls were sold into prostitution. Their bodies were never found either.”
“I hope Janet realizes that even if she did have the ransom money, the kidnappers would have most likely taken the money and never returned the children.”
“She knows that, but she’s living with not being able to get her children back because she didn’t have the money.”
“I’m sure, Abby. None of this is easy for anyone, not even the investigators.”
Abby nodded. “I know. I guess it’s natural for us to want to blame others . . . it makes it easier for us to deal with.”
“Believe it or not, Janet hangs out on 42nd Street praying she’ll see her daughters parading up and down the street looking for men.”
Jessie’s eyes closed in disbelief. A sharp pain stabbed in her gut trying to imagine what all of them were going through. “Did you ever receive a call for ransom?” she asked.
“No. My parents didn’t have money. We were comfortable, but that was it. Nothing fancy about our home or the way we dressed. My dad drove a beat up old Honda.” She shrugged again. “We were an average family.”
She latched onto Abby’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”
Abby’s eyes misted again. “I appreciate that, Jessie. I really do.”
She dried her tears with another napkin Jessie handed her.
Abby stared into space. “You know, the one thing that gives me solace is knowing Justin has his favorite teddy bear.” Her mouth curved into a slight smile. “He loved that bear. He called him Cubby and brought his teddy bear wherever he went.”
“Has anyone in the department offered to help?”
“No. And I haven’t asked. I know how busy everyone is. I keep hoping something will turn up when I least expect it.”
“Well, I’m going to help you,” Jess said with conviction. “I’ll do this on my off time. I’ll get the evidence box and read through every detail. Maybe a fresh set of eyes will find something the others missed.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Of course I will. You know I can’t make any promises though, but I can promise I’ll spend every spare minute I have. If I find something that no one else has, I’ll get this case reopened.”
Abby leaned over and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Jessie. I also have a box of things I’ve collected over the years that I can give you.” Abby sucked in her breath and blew it out. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
CHAPTER FOUR
DETECTIVE ZACHARY GERARD stood in the center of the office and motioned for his partner to join him. “Lieutenant wants to see us, McGee. Let’s go,” he said when he noticed McGee bite into a powdered doughnut.
McGee made a face. “Not until I finish my breakfast?”
“No, my good man. When the Lieutenant calls, you stop what you’re doing and go.” He shook his head. “Didn’t they teach you anything in the academy?” Zach barked. McGee groaned as he put the doughnut back down on the napkin and began to carefully wrap it.
“Uh, you might want to wipe the powdered sugar off your mouth before you go in there with me,” Zach suggested. Seeing the white powder around his mouth brought back memories of the day Jessie had rubbed it off his mouth. He smiled to himself remembering her comment. Oh Christ, don’t go getting all syrupy on me just because I wiped your mouth. Her simple touch damn near stopped him from breathing because it brought back his strong desire to make love to her again.
He remembered all the sweet things she’d said and had done during their years together even though she tried to act as though it did not matter. Regardless, even though she fought it, their bond became stronger. And he still felt that way every time they made love.
In his mind, she was his soulmate. If he could break through that tough exterior—show her being committed wasn’t a fatal sentence, things could work out. He scratched the stubble on his chin. All he knew was that he loved her more than anything. Somehow, living together, both so determined to have their own way, it just didn’t work how either of them had planned.
He smiled to himself, jerking the thoughts from his mind. Maybe they were much better as friends—with benefits.
Watching McGee tape the napkin together so his donut wouldn’t get stale. Zach snickered.
“Seriously?” It was easy to see that McGee was miffed by Zach’s comment but he really didn’t care. They had a job to do. “Will you hurry up, for chrissake?” Zach gestured with his hand. “You could have made the friggin’ donut with the time you’re taking.”
“Geez Gerard, cut me some slack, will you?” Pushing his chair back, he stomped like a child trying to catch up to Zach, who’d already knocked on the lieutenant’s door.
“Enter,” Lieutenant Tyrone Miller’s deep voice echoed through the door. They entered the office where two men sat, one looking annoyed, the other screamed ‘rookie’.
“Detectives Gerard and McGee,” the lieutenant said, “I’d like you to meet Special Agents Lowell Springer and Jerry Bega from ATF.”
Springer was a burly man with light brown hair. His hooded eyes made him appear angry. Bega was a young Hispanic rookie with that fresh-out-of-training look. The excited expression and wide smile on his face said it all: this was his first case. The men acknowledged each other.
“Have a seat,” Miller said to them. “These men are here to talk about the 168 Reville Street incident. I believe that’s right next door to where your homicide victim lived.” Nodding toward agent Springer, Miller said, “Why don’t you fill us in on what was going on next door to our homicide.”
Looking mildly annoyed, Springer started to describe the events that led up to the early morning raid. “We’d been monitoring those bozos next door for several months. Our undercover notified us about a major distribution going down and there was no question, we had to move fast if we were going to catch all the major players. We’d already waited far too long for this to happen. So we conducted a raid on their weapons stash. As soon as we broke down the front door, a couple of suspects made a run for it out the back door. Our agents, who were covering the back entrance, shouted at them to stop, but one of them started shooting an automatic weapon while running toward the back of the property. Obviously, he wasn’t very careful about where he was aiming and thankfully, he was wounded before being subdued and taken into custody. It was all over in less than a minute.”
“Yeah, a minute too long,” Zach said, referring to his victim.
“Hey, Detective, shit happens,” Springer snapped back.
“Regardless, I’m surprised we weren’t notified about the raid,” Zach huffed.
“Like I said, Gerard, it was a last minute decision. We got the word and went for it!” Springer glanced at the lieutenant as though waiting for his support. Miller never acknowledged.
“Okay, Springer,” Zach said shaking his head. “It’s obvious you’re not going to give me the answers I’m looking for. I’m the first one to understand last minute raids, but someone from your office could have contacted all the agencies to let us know. Regardless of shit happening, I need those guns,” he blurted out. Springer’s brows arched in defiance. “And for the record, I didn’t appreciate your guys giving my partner a hard time about turning them over.”
“You’re right, Gerard. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Zach blinked his eyes in disgust. “And that’s why we’re here. But I won’t give them to you until you promise to have your ballistic experts rush them through.”
“Yeah,” the lieutenant said, “good luck with that one.” His head dipped to the side, “We can ask, but you know how busy they are.
If we had a magic wand,” the lieutenant smirked, “I’d wave it, but you know how that goes.”
Springer ignored his comment. “And while we’re talking about not appreciating things, Gerard, you need to get out of the way of our investigation.”
“Really?” Zach shot back with a demand. “I have a homicide to solve. I’m not going to take it on your word that it was the smuggler who fired the shot that killed my victim. I want the proof and the only way that’s going to happen is through ballistics.”
“I’m well aware of that!” Springer fired back. Lieutenant Miller shifted uncomfortably in his chair, momentarily distracting Springer. “You guys are unbelievable,” Springer said shaking his head. “You know, it never ceases to amaze me how you local folks come running to us to include your issues in our federal cases when it suits your needs, but when it doesn’t, you fight us tooth and nail to keep us out.” He shot Zach an angry look. “This is now our case, so stay the fuck out of our way.”
“I beg your pardon,” Zach said, his voice raising in volume. “No, no, no, no, no!” his fist hit his leg. “We have two entirely different cases here. You have a weapons smuggler and I have a homicide to solve. My guy was killed inside his home by a stray bullet that came from your raid. That, sir, makes it my homicide.” He glanced over at Lieutenant Miller who was staring at him, a slight grin on his face. “For chrissakes, we have a kid here who watched his father die,” Zach stressed. “Where the hell is your compassion.”
“Whoa . . . whoa,” Special Agent Bega joined the conversation, his hand held up in the air. “What kid?” He looked from one person to the next. “We weren’t told anything about a kid. Was he hurt? Did he see anything?”
“The boy’s not ready to talk yet,” Zach said. “He’s still in a pretty fragile state.”
“You’ll be seeing him tomorrow, isn’t that right Gerard?” the lieutenant said almost catching Zach off guard.
“I want one of my agents to go with you,” Springer insisted.
Zach scratched his nose trying not to overreact. “I’m not trying to be difficult Springer, but I’d like to tell him ahead of time before your agent’s pounce on him.”
Zach was pleased to see Miller supporting his wishes. They both knew that the agent was likely to put a tail on him tomorrow and park across the street where the kid was staying. That would scare the crap out of Jake. Zach paused before responding hoping to find the right words to deter Springer from interfering too soon.
“We do this all the time with witnesses,” Springer said.
“I’m sure you do, but this kid is eleven-years old. If I have anything to report to you, I will.”
“Not a chance, Gerard,” Springer said angrily. “My guy will be tagging along with you, because I’m not about to wait for you to give me information when you feel like it. If it impacts my case, I want to know right away. Like you, I’m not willing to wait or have you dictate what’s important and what isn’t. Everything in this case is important.”
Zach frowned. “Of course it is, Springer,” Zach shot back. “But it hasn’t been more than a few days. This kid is barely talking to me. He’s already lost his mother, and now, he’s lost his father as well. His world has been turned upside down, and what’s worse, he’s currently living in a foster home. Give the kid a break, will you?” Zach glanced over at his boss who was nodding his head in the affirmative. “The last time I spoke to him, he seemed a little better, but I’m going to ask you to give me first crack at this. I know how to get around these kids to make them talk.” Zach didn’t, but Springer didn’t know that, nor did he know Zach would be seeing Jake that afternoon. Miller had taken a risk lying about the appointment in front of McGee. It would have been like McGee to correct Miller, but he was too busy staring out the window the entire conversation pissed off about being denied his donut before seeing the boss.
“I promise to contact you the minute I’m finished talking to him.”
The lieutenant cut in. “Be reasonable, Springer. Gerard knows what he’s doing. Let him talk to the kid first. By showing up now, you risk having the kid freak out because of another unfamiliar face and you can kiss getting him to tell you anything, goodbye.”
Springer huffed and was about to say something when Miller intercepted. “Let’s keep this friendly, shall we?”
“Then you tell this asshole I outrank him,” Springer pointed to Zach, “and that I’m not going to wait around for him to give me information when he feels like it.” The agent slapped his hand against the desk.
“And since we’re talking about rank here, Agent Springer, I happen to outrank you,” Miller bellowed. “Now, if I have to call your superior, I will, but I’d prefer to work this out fairly between us.”
Springer’s voice became more subdued. “I’m not very happy about this, and I swear Gerard, if you don’t call me the minute your interview with the kid is over, I’ll have your badge.”
“Agent Springer, with all due respect, Detective Gerard is right about the kid, and although I don’t have to, I’ll see to it that Gerard gets in touch with you. What do you say? Can we come to some type of agreement here?”
It was obvious neither agent was happy. “Okay, but if I don’t hear from you in a timely manner, I’ll be going up line management,” he threatened. “I need to know right away if he saw something. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that if the crew that lived next door get even the slightest hint that he saw something . . . that’s reason enough for them to want him dead. And you know this circle of thugs doesn’t stop with the arrests we’ve made. They mean serious business and they’ll wipe him out without an ounce of remorse if they think he can testify against them.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Zach said, frustrated he had to even stand there and argue with the idiot.
McGee stood a few feet away from Zach as though it was an imposition to be in his boss’s office, his arms crossed against his chest and barely listening to the conversation. Zach glanced his way and wondered if the boss was paying attention to McGee’s disinterest. Zach’s attention was drawn back toward Springer as he continued the conversation.
“We’re at an impasse because we haven’t identified all the players yet, but as we well know, word travels fast and they’ll be on the look-out for him, so time is of the essence.” Springer bent down and picked up the box of guns. “Here,” he said, and begrudgingly handed Zach the box, the tags swaying from the exchange. “I need these back in no less than four days, so get your people cracking on ballistics, Lieutenant Miller.”
Zach clamped his lips together waiting to see how the lieutenant was going to handle Springer’s comment despite the burn settling in his gut.
“Look,” the lieutenant said, “we’ll get it as fast as we can. Are you going to tell me you guys get your results back faster than we do? If that’s the case, maybe that’s where I should apply for a job.” He snickered. “I’ll put a rush on it, Springer, but let’s stop demanding things from one another, okay? This case will go much smoother if we all make a concerted effort to cooperate with one another. Your case isn’t bigger than ours, nor is ours bigger than yours. We each have a piece of the puzzle, so I suggest we play nice in the sandbox.” Springer did not acknowledge that he’d even heard what Miller said. Nevertheless, Zach extended his hand to Springer who shunned him and walked out of the room without looking back.
Zach flung his hands in the air, “You know, Lieutenant, this kind of shit really pisses me off,” he spewed.
“I can see that, Gerard. Continue to do what you’re doing . . . but check the ego at the door and make nice. Both departments have a lot to lose.”
Zach nodded in agreement. “Yes, sir.” He turned to his partner, “You ready, McGee?”
CHAPTER FIVE
JESSIE ENTERED the evidence room and confirmed the numbers on the corner of the storage units comparing them against the sheet of paper she held in her hand. Half way down the aisle she stopped. There it was. The eviden
ce box with large bold lettering across the bottom with Justin’s name. A familiar ache pinched her heart. The evidence room was set up like a library with long mahogany tables and chairs. Jess pulled the box off the shelf and carried it to one of the empty tables. A few other detectives acknowledged her presence with a nod and returned to rummaging through their evidence boxes. Two of the detectives she’d seen Bud talking to a few times were sequestered in the corner with a cart of boxes piled on top of one another.
“J. Cavanaugh?” Bud’s voice shot out and surprised Jessie. She hadn’t seen him when she entered the room and wondered if he’d walked in or was hiding. Hiding was probably more like it. That would be his style. He liked surprising her and always made her feel as though she was doing something wrong.
“What are you doing with that box?” he asked.
Elusive Justice (Kensington-Gerard Detective series Book 2) Page 4