“I know, but please don’t get your hopes up.”
“I’m not . . . well, maybe I am a little bit. The very fact that you’ve done something . . . like figuring out that I never saw the tape, is amazing to me.” She wiped her tears with her fingers.
“I’ll see you later,” Jessie said.
Bud was on his phone when Jessie reached her desk. He nodded and finished his conversation.
“What have you gotten me into?” he snarled.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, hoping the lieutenant hadn’t already spoken to him, but by his reaction, she knew it was too late.
“The lieutenant wants me to help you with the Cavanaugh cold case.”
“I didn’t ask him if you could. I asked him if I could reopen it.”
“Does Jensen know?”
“I spoke to Jensen the other day and he’s fine with me investigating the case.”
“Then why don’t you ask him? I’m sure he’d rather be the one to work on it since it was his case to begin with.”
“Look, I didn’t ask for either of you. I wanted the lieutenant to be apprised of what I was doing and when I asked if I could reopen the case, he said he thought you should work the case with me.” She shook her head and tried to resist a smirk, but she couldn’t help herself. “Listen, Bud, seriously, I don’t know what your problem is with me, but please do us both a favor and request someone else. In addition to all the hassles and disappointments I have to deal with on a local level during the day, seeing the scowl on your face all day is obnoxious. If you think your mistreatment of me is going to send me packing, guess again. I’m not going anywhere. Your choice, Bud.” She spun on her heels and headed for the evidence room when she heard the lieutenant’s brusque voice shout out Bud’s name. When she signed her name on the sheet, she noticed Detective Jensen had signed out the Cavanaugh evidence box. She searched the room and found him sitting at the table.
“Hi, Detective Jensen. I’m Jessie.” He extended his hand in greeting. “It’s so nice to meet you face-to-face”
“You too,” he said.
“I came in to check on a few more things,” she said.
“Yeah, after our talk on the phone, I wanted to check out a few things too. What were you planning to check?” he asked.
“A little more on the father.”
“What about him?”
“Two things. I’ve been thinking about this all night. Did you ever investigate the father?”
“No. Why would we? Everything he said checked out and we didn’t see a need to pursue it. He was a mess after the son went missing. So why the sudden suspicion?”
“Well, Abby told me he left them shortly after the abduction because he couldn’t deal with his wife’s drinking, and from what she tells me, no one ever heard from him again.”
Jensen studied her for a moment, and then began to nod his head. “I know where you’re going with this.”
“It’s possible, don’t you think?”
“Anything is possible. But it’s also possible he left for all the reasons Abby said too.”
“Yeah, but why didn’t he take Abby with him when he left?” Jessie could feel the fire building in her gut. Maybe none of what she was thinking was going to prove to be true, but she couldn’t help the strong feeling she had.
“Who knows?” Jensen said. “There could have been a million reasons.”
“But why wouldn’t he let Abby see the surveillance tape?” she said soberly. “Maybe he was afraid she’d see him on that surveillance tape. The fact that neither parent was sitting with the kids when Justin was abducted raises a huge red flag for me.” Her brows rose. “I’ve spoken to the lieutenant about letting me reopen the case. Obviously, he wants concrete evidence first. If what I’m thinking is true, this will be horrendous for Abby to learn that her father staged the entire thing, but at least she’d know her brother was alive.”
“Don’t hesitate to ask if you need help.”
“Thanks, Jensen, I appreciate your offer.”
Jessie made her way into the precinct tired from an exhausting day of chasing potential leads. She gave a few co-workers a wave as they passed by her on their way out of the building. It was later than she normally walked back into the precinct. She wondered if Abby had gotten tired of waiting and left for the day. To her surprise, when she walked into the clerical office, Abby was busy typing something into her computer.
“I wondered if you’d still be here. I’m sorry I’m so late. I hadn’t expected the case I’m working on to take so long.”
“I figured as much. It’s no problem. I had plenty of work to keep me busy, but now that you’re here, I’m going to save this file and call it a day so I can see the surveillance footage.”
“Good,” Jessie said, secretly wishing she’d scheduled the showing for the early morning. Since Abby had waited, showing her the footage was the least she could do for the girl. “Okay, let me wash up and I’ll be right back. We’ll use Interview room two, so go ahead and meet me there in about ten minutes. I need to sign out the video.”
When Jessie entered the room, Abby was pacing back and forth.
“Are you alright?”
“I am. I’m a little nervous. I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
Jessie pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit. “I know. How about we talk first.”
“Okay.” Abby moved her hands to her lap.
“I have a few questions I want to ask about your parents.”
Abby shifted in her chair and blew out a breath of air. “I’m ready.”
Jessie opened her notebook. “Tell me about your parents’ marriage.”
“In what way?”
“Were they happy?”
“I guess for the most part they were. Mom had always been slightly aloof with Dad.”
“Do you know why that was?”
“Mom told me she didn’t have a good childhood. Maybe that’s why. Maybe she didn’t get the kind of love she needed and found it hard to return his affection, or maybe she wasn’t capable of loving.” Abby shrugged.
“Have you forgiven your mother for what she did to you?”
“I’ve tried to be understanding of why she did those horrible things to me, but there are times I’m so angry with her, I take it all back. The one thing I won’t ever do is forget what she’s done.”
“So, are you saying your relationship was tense?”
“Definitely, most of the time.” Abby humphed, “you know, I resented the way she treated me. I always told myself I was never going to be like her, yet I did the same thing to my brother.”
“Abby, you were a child yourself. Brothers and sisters fight all the time. Sisters fight all the time. It’s what kids do. And you can’t control the environment you grew up in. It’s what you knew and that’s how you acted. It’s what you do moving forward that matters.”
She wiped a tear from her cheek. “If I could take it all back, I would.”
Jessie touched her arm. “I know you would.” She slid a box of tissues over to her side of the table. “So would you say your parents had a good marriage?”
“No. Mom and Dad fought all the time, except when she was getting what she wanted. But even then, she was critical of everything he did. Nothing was ever good enough. The one person she didn’t criticize was Justin. She idolized him.” Abby stopped talking as though going over something in her mind. “I’m not even sure if me trying to be better is secretly looking for her approval or whether it’s genuine.”
“All of us are looking for approval whether our parents are living or dead. We need to feel important—I know I do. But then, I have my own baggage.” Jessie knew she needed to move forward with this questioning before she had Abby focusing on the less important things. “Did you guys do a lot as a family?”
“We went on picnics, and to the movies occasionally. We never played games together like my friends did with their families, my parents never read to us. So
I guess the answer is no.”
“What about vacations?”
“No, we never went on vacations.”
“What did your father do for a living?”
“He worked for the post office.”
“What kind of work did he do for the post office?”
“Some kind of office work.”
“Did he travel for his job?”
“Sometimes, but I’m not sure he traveled out of state. Maybe for a week or two at a time, but that was it.”
“Do you know if he continued to send money to your mother after he left?” Jessie’s mind was making mental notes about all the things she was going to do to track him down. Government workers were much easier to find, assuming he hadn’t changed jobs.
“I really don’t know if he did. But the bill collectors weren’t knocking down our door, so maybe he did.” She shook her head. “Funny I never thought about that before. But the money had to come from somewhere. Mom didn’t work.”
“Did either of you ever try to find your father?”
“Mom was always drunk, so I doubt she tried. I did call a few of his friends to ask, but they didn’t have any answers for me.”
“What was your father’s full name?”
“Alexander J. Cavanaugh.”
“And the ‘J’ stands for?”
“James.” Abby scrunched her face up. “Why are you asking me about my father? Are you trying to find him too?”
“No. I need to know the complete story and find more evidence if I’m ever going to get the lieutenant to let me reopen the case.”
“Do you think the other detectives missed something?”
“No. But circumstances are different since they closed the case. I want as much information as I can get. I want to check things that might not have been checked before. I don’t like loose ends and figured I’d do some searching. I may find out that he’s deceased too.”
Abby looked down at her hands. “I’m angry at him too.”
“I’m sure you are, but keep in mind that when you allow the hurt and pain someone has caused you to control your mind, you’re giving that person the right to control your life.”
“I never thought of it like that.” Abby said. “So when do I get to see the footage?”
“A few more questions and we’ll be done.” Jessie jotted down more notes. “Where did your dad grow up?”
“In Montana.”
“Do you still have relatives living there?”
“Yes, but we don’t speak. At least they haven’t reached out to me.”
“Did you know them well?”
“Not really. I knew their names and that’s about it. Oh, and from family photographs.”
“Do you have family albums?”
“I do have some. It hurts to look at them though.”
“I’d love to see the pictures.”
“Okay, I’ll bring them in.”
“Where did you live after your mother died?”
“My grandparents owned the The Rest Inn on Minnieford in City Island, so they sold our apartment in Manhattan and I moved in with them until they died two years ago.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of it. What happened to the Inn after they died?”
“They changed their will shortly before they died and left it to me to do whatever I wanted with it. I sold it and that’s the money I’ve been using to find my brother.” She puckered her lips and shrugged a shoulder. “Now, I’m back in Soho on Wooster Street, a few blocks from where Justin and I grew up on Broome.” She stared in the distance. “I thought I should be back near where we lived in case he came back home.”
Jessie swallowed hard. The pain in Abby’s eyes made her heart ache for the girl. “No more family living around here?”
“I don’t think so. If they are here, they’ve decided not to keep in touch with me.”
“All right, that’s all the questions I have for right now. Let’s take a break and then we’ll come back and watch the surveillance footage.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“ZACH,” McGee screeched through the phone as he was driving into the precinct parking lot, “I ran Thomas’ name and got a long list of Thomas’. Some are alive; some are dead; some are living abroad.”
“What about our guy? Did he show up? And did you check the background of each one on the list?”
“I’m in the process of doing that now.”
“I’m pulling up to the back door,” Zach said. “Get your coat, we’re going to the house to see what we can find with Jake’s DNA on it.”
“Are you thinking something’s rotten in Denmark?”
“Not at the moment. This kid idolized his father. If there was anything fishy, don’t you think he would have told me after his father died? He’d have nothing to hide nor family to dispute it.”
“Okay. I guess my mind is working overtime. I suppose not. I guess you’re right.” McGee clicked off his phone as he walked out through the double doors and got into the car. “Good morning.”
“Did we get anything from ballistics yet?”
“No. I checked again this morning and they said there’s a long list ahead of us, so I need to relax and be patient. I’ll keep bugging them and maybe they’ll decide to oil the squeaky wheel to shut me up.”
“Spoken like a true detective, McGee.” Zach gave him an approving nod. “Good job. You’re learning.”
“Zach, that’s a helluva thing to say. I am a true detective. Maybe not with as many years’ experience as you, but I’m a damned good one.”
“Good. I like the backbone showing through too. Give me hell.”
“You mean that’s all you were looking for?”
“Actually, I was looking for exactly what you’re giving me. Keep up the good work.” Zach grinned. “So give me what you’ve learned so far about all these Harold Thomas’.”
“Well, there was a Harold Thomas who died on September 11th as a result of jumping out the window when the plane hit the tower. He has . . . I mean, he had a daughter.” McGee shook his head. “I think of those who survived so often and wonder how they’re doing. What a tragedy.”
“That was tragic all right. Did you lose anyone during that attack?”
“No. Thank God I—”
“Dammit,” Zach interrupted. “There’s a moving van in front of the place. For chrissakes, the landlord couldn’t wait?” He parked the car behind the moving van and got out, walked up to a man and introduced himself. “Does the owner of this house live around here?”
His two young kids answered for the father, “he lives in that house across the street,” a small boy pointed. He was probably a little older than Jake. He thanked him and crossed the street. Walking up to the front door, Zach rang the doorbell. A short stout woman answered. “I remember you, Detective. You were at the crime scene that day,” she said, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “I shouldn’t talk so loud. The new renters don’t know anything about what happened.”
“I’m actually surprised you cleared the house out and rented it so quickly,” Zach said.
“Your precinct told me they had everything they wanted,” her palms rose in the air. “I needed the rent money so I got rid of the crap, fixed the window, covered the floor with a new carpet and these nice people decided to rent it.” She pressed her finger against her lips and shushed. “You’re not gonna tell them, are you?”
“Of course not. So where are all the belongings from the house?”
“Your buddies said they took what they needed and I brought the rest of the stuff to the dump. I sure as hell didn’t need it.”
Zach sighed. “Great! Just great!” He turned to leave and headed back across the street, mumbling an insincere thanks over his shoulder. Reaching the car, he opened the door and slid behind the steering wheel. “We’ve hit a dead end. Everything is at the dump.”
“Not everything. Did you forget we have a property warehouse filled with stuff that wasn’t evidence and kept there for when a family
member comes forward and claims it?”
“Excellent reminder, McGee. We’ll stop by the warehouse and see if there’s anything we can use. Someday, Jake might come back from wherever he moved, and want the things that remind him of his father.” Zach dragged a hand through his hair. “I’ll drop you off at headquarters to keep checking the Thomas list, and I’ll head out to the warehouse and see what I can find.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“What’s up, Zach,” the records clerk asked.
“Hey Sam,” Zach said, noticing Sam had put on a few pounds since the last time he’d seen him. Sam’s shirt was buldging by the buttons and Zach figured it was a matter of time before the lieutenant called him on the carpet and insisted he buy a bigger uniform or get cracking on an exercise program. “I’m looking for physical property under the name of Harold Thomas, address is 166 Reville Street.”
“That came in about a week ago. The warehouse was a mess before I took over. I’m making progress, but it’s not as organized as I’d like. I can tell you which section to find the box, but I know it hasn’t been tagged, sealed or catalogued. I trust that you’ll handle the items with care?”
“Of course.”
Sam sat down at his computer and keyed information into the database, then jotted some numbers down on a small piece of paper. “I’m pretty sure you’ll find the boxes in the same section as these numbers. Although it’s not catalogued, I did try to alphabetize so it wouldn’t be so difficult to find.”
“That’s fine. I’m sure I’ll find it.” Sam shoved a clipboard at him with signature lines.
“Sign on the dotted line,” he said handing him a pen. While Zach was scribbling his name, he continued to talk. “So how’s the new job?”
“Good. I’m still learning my way around the precinct and how it operates. But it’s good.”
“How’s that beautiful red head of yours?”
Zach smiled, “She’s still as beautiful as you remember her.”
“You tell her I said hello.” He sighed. “I miss the old precinct.” His face quirked into disappointment. “But I sure as hell don’t miss Jackson. He had a real problem with gambling. Did you know that?”
Elusive Justice (Kensington-Gerard Detective series Book 2) Page 10