"Why does the Governor need to get involved?" Nate Boxley asked.
"The Governor isn't really involved," Stan said. "It's also called a 'extradition warrant.' Basically, it's a paper process where the 'Governor' of one state asks the 'Governor' of another state to return a person charged with a crime."
"What if Usher didn't waive extradition?" Jeff Moreno asked.
"He would get a hearing and would have a chance to challenge California's charges against him. It rarely works and would just buy him time before he would be ordered returned to California."
The meeting broke up. Jerrod, Brent, and Stan stayed behind in the lieutenant's office.
"I've got the travel plans all made, Lieutenant," Brent said. "Jerrod... Sergeant Gold and I are going to fly from San Jose to Denver. There's an hour layover there and then we fly to Liberal, Kansas. We can rent a car in Liberal and drive to... what is the name of that little city... Mulga."
The lieutenant said, "Sergeant Rozman. Thank you for all your hard work on this case."
"You're welcome, sir." A broad, satisfied smile spread across his face.
"But I propose Sergeant Gold and Inspector Walsh travel to Oklahoma so they can interview Usher about the other homicide case. You can stay behind and wrap up loose ends here."
Brent was dumbfounded and speechless for a few moments. "Sir. The Hank Jones murder investigation has been my case since the first night and I'd like to follow it to the end. And that includes getting Nick Usher back to Mesa to stand trial."
"Sergeant," the lieutenant said. "The cases we handle belong to the Sheriff's Office -- not any one investigator. I have decided it would be the best course to send Sergeant Gold and Inspector Walsh. The District Attorney's Office can pay for the inspector's travel and we can save funds on our budget."
Brent stood up and placed the palms of his hands on the bare surface of the lieutenant's desk. Brent looked him square in the eyes and said, "You have got to be fucking kidding me."
Jerrod stared down at the table as it happened. The lieutenant's reaction was swift and predicable and severe.
CHAPTER 80
"Here's all the travel plans and phone numbers you'll need," Brent said as he handed Jerrod a manila folder. "Have a good trip."
"This is bullshit," Jerrod said.
"It is what it is," Brent said. "I hope Usher's in a mood to talk when you get there."
"I'll keep you posted."
"Don't bother," Brent said. "This is your case now. I don't want anything to do with it."
* * *
"Have you ever been on an extradition before?" Stan asked Jerrod after their jet took off from the airport in San Jose.
"Just once. With Craig Wallace. We went to Brownsville, Texas to pick up a guy on a robbery warrant."
"Brownsville's an armpit," Stan said.
"It wasn't that bad."
"To each his own." Stan paused. "You know the airline won't let us handcuff Usher on the trip back?"
"I'm aware of that... Professor."
* * *
Jerrod had never been to a place as green and flat as Oklahoma.
As he drove the forty-five minutes down the highway from Liberal, Kansas, he scanned the horizon all around and didn't see as much as a single hill.
The stark contrast made him appreciate the coastline-to-mountain variety of scenery they enjoyed in Mesa County.
Monday Evening
A uniformed sheriff's deputy walked Nick Usher into the cramped county jail office Jerrod and Stan had been allowed to use. Nick was wearing a set of white jail-issued clothes and his hands were cuffed in front.
"Well, hell. You two... again," Nick said.
"Can we have the 'cuffs off while we talk?" Jerrod asked the deputy.
"Sure," the deputy said. "I'll be right outside if you need anything."
"Thank you," Stan said.
Nick rubbed his wrists and sat down in the chair left for him.
"Things have sure changed since the last few times we talked, Nick," Jerrod said.
"A little bit," Nick said.
"You now are being detained and are not free to leave," Stan said.
"No shit."
"We'd like to hear your side of the story," Jerrod said. "Dolores told us what she knew, but we want to get your version directly from you."
"I want to leave Dolores out of this," Nick said.
"Sure. We can help with that. Just talk to us and we can get it all on the record. Straight from you."
"Okay."
"Mind if we tape record the conversation, Nick?" Jerrod asked.
"I don't care."
Jerrod pressed two buttons on his portable cassette tape recorder and started to speak. "The following is a tape recorded interview with Nicholas Joseph Usher. Today's date is..."
"I need to read the Miranda Admonition to you," Jerrod continued, "please listen carefully: 'You have the absolute right to remain silent...'"
"Do you understand each of these rights I have just read to you?" Jerrod asked.
Nick nodded.
"You need to say 'yes' or 'no' for the tape."
"Yes."
"Having those rights in mind, do you wish to make a statement now?"
Nick didn't move for a few moments. He looked at Stan and then back at Jerrod. The "11" made a brief appearance between his eyebrows. He leaned forward and spoke directly into the tape recorder.
"I want to talk to a lawyer."
* * *
"Sergeant Rozman," the voice on the phone answered.
"Brent. It's Jerrod."
"How's Oklahoma?"
"Flat... and windy."
"That's what I've heard."
"Usher asked for an attorney right off-the-bat," Jerrod said. "We got no statement from him."
"That's too bad."
"We'll have Usher back tomorrow night. We can sit down Thursday morning and see where we are on our cases."
"Your cases, pal," Brent said. "I'm done. I don't care about those murders anymore. I don't give a shit about anything anymore."
"No problem. I'll cover it. We'll talk when I get back. About this and the Cardinal Lane thing, too. Okay?"
"Jerrod," he said after a pause. "Working the Usher case was the most fun I've had in a long time. Sorry I won't be finishing it with you."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. Have a safe trip back."
CHAPTER 81
January 22, 1991 -- Tuesday Afternoon
"Nick, we have a forty-five minute drive back to Liberal," Jerrod said.
Nick had changed back into his personal clothing and his backpack was secured in Stan's overnight bag.
"Then we have a one-hour flight to Denver," Stan said, 'and a two-and-a-half hour flight back to San Jose. We need to handcuff you for the trip."
"Fine," Nick said as he placed his wrists together in front of him.
"Behind your back," Jerrod said.
"Seriously?"
Jerrod applied the metal handcuffs to Nick's wrists and set the ratchets one notch tighter than necessary.
"Have a seat," Stan said as Nick folded his long frame into the cramped back seat.
Nick glanced at him. "I think I've got this part down."
* * *
"Do you think we can take the 'cuffs off while we wait for the plane?" Stan asked Jerrod as they dropped the rental car off at small airport terminal in Liberal.
"I don't see why not," Jerrod said. He turned to Nick. "Are you going to give us any problems?"
"No problems. Just, please, take these damn things off."
"Okay," Jerrod said. "Any crap from you and they go on again... tighter."
* * *
Jerrod, Stan, and Nick were the first to board the jet headed for San Jose. Nick was seated in the window seat with Jerrod next to him at the aisle. Stan sat directly behind Jerrod.
A flight attendant and one of the pilots in full uniform walked down the aisle. Jerrod stood to greet them.
"We'r
e going to let the other passengers embark in a couple minutes," the captain said. He was all business as he looked at Nick. "If you get out of line and upset any of the other passengers, I authorize these officers to kick the living shit out of you. Do we have an understanding?"
"Yes, sir," Nick said.
"Good," the captain said with a big smile. "Have a pleasant flight."
* * *
A male flight attendant came by with the drink cart. "Can I get anything for you, gentlemen?"
"Coffee, please," Stan said.
"Coke for me, please," Jerrod said.
"Budweiser, please," Nick said.
"Sorry," Jerrod said as looked at Nick. "No beer for you."
"It may be my last one... ever," Nick said.
"Sorry."
* * *
"What are you reading?" Nick asked Jerrod as they flew over Utah.
Jerrod turned the library book in his hand so Nick could read the cover.
"William's Vision of Piers Plowman," Nick read.
"Are you familiar?" Jerrod asked.
"Langland's poems. Sure."
* * *
As they flew over the Sierra Nevada mountain range, Nick thumbed the pages of a SkyMall catalog. Jerrod kept his eyes on his open book when he spoke.
"How did you pass the polygraph, Nick?"
Nick flipped a few more pages and didn't look at Jerrod.
"I didn't know I passed it."
Tuesday Night
"Bruce Witt," the voice on the phone answered.
"This is Jerrod Gold. Be at the sallyport of the Mesa County Jail in an hour. Bring your camera. I still owe you one for not saying anything about the FBI being at the Jelinski murder scene."
He hung up before Bruce could respond.
Jerrod drove the Buick into the sallyport of the Mesa County Jail at ten o'clock. Bruce Witt was waiting there and he got video of Jerrod and Stan removing Nick Usher from the car and escorted into the jail for booking.
Just as the heavy jail door was being pulled shut, Bruce yelled, "Jerrod. I need to talk to you."
"This is it, Nick," Jerrod said in the jail booking intake area. "I'd like to tell you it's been fun."
Nick looked at Stan and then Jerrod. "Thanks for not being dicks about this whole thing" he said as he stuck out his right hand and accepted shakes from both investigators.
"Good luck," Stan said.
"I think I'm going to need some luck."
"We're even, Bruce," Jerrod said as he and Stan walked out of the jail and into the sallyport. Bruce's camera hung from his right hand as he walked toward them.
"Any comments about Brent Rozman?" Bruce asked as he got closer.
Jerrod and Stan walked to Bruce. "What about Brent?" Jerrod asked. "I talked to him yesterday."
Bruce paused. "Sorry. I assumed you guys knew already."
"Assumed what, Bruce?" Stan asked.
"Uh... Brent Rozman's... dead."
CHAPTER 82
"What the hell are you talking about?" Jerrod asked.
"Brent Rozman was killed in a car crash tonight. I had the scanner on and heard the CHP get an '11-80,' you know, an auto crash with major injuries. I was still at the scene when you called me to come to the jail."
"Where did this happen?" Stan asked.
"Just above the UC campus," Bruce said. "It looks like he skidded off the road and hit a tree. The front of his car was demolished. It was a real bad scene. The fire department had to cut away--."
"Stop, Bruce," Jerrod interrupted. "I don't need any details. Brent was a friend."
"Sorry," Bruce said. "There were cops and firefighters all over the place. One of your detectives tried to stop me from taking video. Then he threatened to take my tape. I know he can't do that and he does now too. The California Reporter Shield Law and the First Amendment cover that issue pretty well."
"Who was that detective?" Jerrod asked.
"I don't know his name. He had a green SO raid jacket on... a blockhead-looking motherfucker. He was taking orders from that skinny lieutenant -- Mitchell Sullivan."
"Regner," Jerrod whispered to Stan.
"Sullivan was trying to contain things at the scene. He had that blockhead detective running around telling the fire guys and CHP what to do. A CHP sergeant finally had to get in his face. I thought they were going to duke-it-out right there."
Jerrod nodded.
"I'll tell you," Bruce said. "I've been a reporter for awhile and I've covered some big stories and seen a lot of cops in action, but there was something odd about how that crash scene was being handled."
CHAPTER 83
January 23, 1991 -- Wednesday Morning
Jerrod had finally fallen asleep about four o'clock, then overslept, and encountered some heavy traffic driving into Mesa. He slipped into his usual chair in the lieutenant's office at one minute after eight o'clock.
The chair directly across from him -- Brent's seat -- was empty. Someone had placed Brent's coffee-stained Oakland A's cup, turned upside down, was on the table in front of the chair.
Lieutenant Mitchell T. Sullivan, forgoing his usual faux-chipper persona, got right to the point: "As you are all aware by now, Sergeant Brent Rozman was involved in a traffic collision last night and was killed at the scene." He wisely stopped talking for a few moments.
Jerrod stared at the empty chair. He glanced at Darrell Regner and found his usual smirk gone. Jeff Moreno and Calvin Yee sat silently together -- their eyes were glassy from the tears building in them. Linda Westphal excused herself from the meeting.
After thirty respectful seconds, the lieutenant continued: "At around nine o'clock last night, in the foothills behind the university, his car went off the road and struck a redwood tree. The CHP is handling the accident investigation. Sergeant Lindsey has taken... Sergeant Rozman... to the morgue."
Jerrod asked, "Was Brent in his personal or his county-issued car, sir?"
"He was in his county car. Why do you ask?"
"Do we know why he was out last night, sir?"
"Sergeant Regner will be coordinating the Sheriff's Office portion of the death investigation and all of those questions will be answered in due time."
"Thank you, sir."
The lieutenant announced Regner would take over Brent's caseload and supervise the Person's Crimes Section until a permanent replacement was found.
"If anyone would like to take some personal time today," the lieutenant added, "feel free to use it. We will regroup tomorrow morning. At eight."
Linda was at her desk and still blotting her eyes when the meeting broke up.
"Get some coffee?" Jerrod asked her.
"Sure."
In the break room, Jerrod and Linda sat alone holding their coffee cups.
"What happened with Brent while I was in Oklahoma?"
"Well, the day you took off with Stan, Brent was pretty quiet all day. Kind of sulky. He stayed around the office all day, but didn't say much."
"I called him from Mulga and he sounded down. Tired... or angry... or depressed.
"All three, I suspect."
"How about the next day?"
"Brent was there for the morning meeting, but didn't say anything. He stayed after the meeting with the lieutenant. It got a little heated... I could hear some raised voices behind the closed door, but couldn't tell what they were saying. Brent stormed out of the office. His face and neck was all red... you know how he gets... uh... got." Linda's eyes filled with tears.
"Take your time."
She dabbed at her eyes. "Brent grabbed his coat and said he was taking the day off. That's the last time I saw him. This is so sad."
"It is. Thank you for talking with me."
"Excuse me, Lieutenant Sullivan," Jerrod said from the doorway to his office.
"What is it, Sergeant?"
"Moment of your time. Privately, sir."
"Come in."
Jerrod closed the door behind him and sat in his usual seat. "About Brent," he said.
"Are you aware of the stress he was under... his personal life... sir. He was still struggling with a bad crime scene from last year. We were going to sit down and talk..."
"He mentioned he was having some marital difficulties. We spoke yesterday and he was a little upset."
"I talked to him from Oklahoma, sir. He sounded real down. I think he had kind of given up, honestly."
"What are you saying, Sergeant? That you think Brent Rozman killed himself. That he just drove his car into a tree because 'he sounded real down?'"
"Exactly. He told me he was sorry he wouldn't been around to finish the Usher cases with me."
"I think you're reading too much into his words. Maybe he was just considering a transfer out of Investigations."
"That wasn't the tone he was using," Jerrod said.
"Sergeant Regner will look into each and every aspect of the crash and all the circumstances around it in his investigation." The lieutenant leaned forward. "I can assure you."
CHAPTER 84
Wednesday Afternoon
"I'm very sorry about Sergeant Rozman," ADA Lorena Delgado said from behind her desk at the DA's Office. Jerrod and Stan Walsh sat on the office sofa. She added, "We didn't always see eye-to-eye on things, but he was a good investigator."
"He was a great investigator," Jerrod said. "I just got to know him on this Usher case. He told me working that case was the most fun he had in a long time. Until the case got taken... never mind."
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