Faces of Evil [4] Rage

by Debra Webb

  “Damn.” She turned her attention back to the victim, Gabrielle Grayson. Dark hair and olive skin. Thirty or thirty-two. “Latino?” she asked Harper.

  “Mrs. Grayson was born in this country but her parents moved here from Spain. Lieutenant Grayson’s partner told me she was a nurse until her son was born and she opted to become a full-time mother.”

  “We need to know if she has any connections whatsoever to the gang world.” This was the fifth decapitation Jess had encountered in the last week. The other four ritual killings had been carried out by members of the MS-13 against those they deemed traitors. The major difference was those decapitations had been accomplished while the victims were still alive. This one looked wrong. The words scrawled on the walls were unfocused. The whole scene, including the possibility the perp had showered, was way off when compared to an MS-13 assassination scene.

  “There’s no connection that we know of, ma’am.”

  Another of those aggravating frowns tugged across her brow. “Where is Captain Allen? I thought he was en route.”

  Harper looked away and cleared his throat. “He… ah… dropped by. Took a quick look and said he’d let us know if he heard any rumblings about this. He knows Grayson. Said the lieutenant and his partner have been helping out with GTF but neither has been involved on a level that would ignite something like this. He doesn’t think there’s a connection.”

  “He couldn’t hang around until I arrived?” Jess understood the guy had it in for her since she’d barged her way into the Lopez case and stolen the big takedown Allen had had planned, but this was a homicide for Christ’s sake. A cop’s wife.

  Jess took a breath, brought her voice down an octave or two. “Stay on Allen, Sergeant, and find out from Grayson’s division chief if he’s worked a case, past or present, within the division that may have landed him on someone’s hate list.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jess was as sure as anyone could be that this murder didn’t have anything to do with the MS-13. It was way too neat and there were too many discrepancies. But she couldn’t rule out that possibility just yet any more than Allen could. “We also need cause of death ASAP,” she said, more to herself than to the detective next to her. “The media will have a field day with this. We need something to give them before they start making up stuff.”

  In the past forty-eight hours a Lopez hangout had been blown up and three clashes in the streets of downtown Birmingham had barely been defused without bloodshed. A couple of fires had been started in abandoned houses. No matter that the Lopez clique was falling apart all on its own, there were some in the community who were looking for an excuse to take matters into their own hands. The murder of a cop’s wife—the mother of a small child—would fuel that fire into a raging inferno.

  “There was another clash in Druid Hills just before daylight,” Harper mentioned. “Another house burned after being hit by Molotov cocktails, but no one was injured.”

  Damn. Druid Hills was the neighborhood where this war had started. Jess had lived there for a while as a kid. Not much had changed in all this time. Harper’s news just confirmed what she already knew. They needed damage control on this one. “What the devil is taking Leeds and his colleague so long?”

  She hated waiting. Worse, Jess’s attention settled on the victim; she hated for this woman to lie here like this any longer than necessary. She hoped Grayson and his ex hadn’t gotten into a war outside.

  “I’ll check on that,” Harper offered.

  “Do that, Sergeant, and make sure—”

  “If you’ll get out of the way,” a haughty female voice announced, “we’ll try to make up the time we lost due to BPD’s incompetence at securing the scene and preventing the flash mob outside.”

  Jess turned and came face-to-face with the tall brunette in the lavender dress who appeared determined to live up to her reputation of being pushy. Sylvia Baron.

  “Somebody adjust that damned thermostat,” she shouted at no one in particular. “Are we trying to turn this vic into a Popsicle or what?”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Harper said as he made himself scarce.

  Jess thrust out her hand. “I’m Deputy Chief Harris. I’ll be investigating this case.”

  “Dr. Sylvia Baron, associate coroner and medical examiner. This is Dr. Martin Leeds, Jefferson County’s chief coroner. As I said, if you will get out of the way, we’ll attend to our responsibility in this matter.”

  As true as it was that the coroner had jurisdiction over the body, Jess was king of the hill when it came to the scene. “Dr. Baron, I’m certain this is an awkward and perhaps difficult time for you. Be that as it may, considering your ties to the victim’s husband, I have strong reservations about your ability to maintain objectivity under the circumstances. Your being here obviously represents a conflict of interest.”

  Baron didn’t look surprised that Jess had already heard about who she was. In fact, the ME laughed. “Like I care about your reservations. Now step aside or I’ll call Chief Burnett and have you removed from this case.”

  A bad, bad feeling struck Jess. Was this woman another of Burnett’s fancy private-school cronies? Or maybe Sylvia Baron was a former lover or another ex-wife? The man had at least two exes Jess hadn’t met. Either way, she wasn’t running this investigation. Jess was.

  Big breath. Stay calm. She stepped around the body and moved closer to Baron. “I think that’s a very good idea. Calling Chief Burnett, I mean.” Jess kept her smile in place as she reached into her bag and retrieved her phone, then offered it to the other woman. “Why don’t you use my phone? Burnett’s at the top of my contact list.”

  The woman matched Jess’s fake smile with one of her own. “No need.” She whipped out her iPhone and made the call with scarcely more than a swipe and a tap. “He’s at the top of mine as well.”

  Birmingham Police Department, 11:30 a.m.

  Sandy-haired, golden-eyed, and well-tanned, Johnny Trenton was thirty-two years old and, judging by his rap sheet, a former male prostitute who had discovered a better way to earn a living amid the wealthy and prominent in Birmingham by cleaning their pools and offering private swimming lessons to the kiddies.

  Or maybe he’d just assumed a better cover for work in one of society’s oldest professions. At the moment, seated at the interview table and with murder on her plate, unless his occupation was relevant to the case, Jess didn’t particularly care.

  Problem was, to her knowledge, the Graysons were neither wealthy nor prominent.

  Jess surveyed the file Detective Wells had prepared on Trenton. She reminded herself not to rest her right arm too heavily on the table, since it had one leg shorter than the other three, which was inordinately annoying. “This is your second summer working for the Grayson family?”

  Trenton’s boredom with the proceedings loud and clear, he remained slouched in his chair on the other side of the table, barely bothering to lift his gaze to meet Jess’s. “You got it.”

  “Who hired you? Mr. Grayson or his wife?”

  “Mrs. Grayson.” A smirk twisted his lips. “She said her old man was never home and she needed someone to take care of the stuff he neglected.”

  Do tell. “What sort of stuff, besides the pool, was her husband neglecting?”

  Trenton hunched his shoulders in a shrug, a lackluster gesture at best. “No clue. She hired me to take care of the pool and that’s what I did.”

  “Did Mrs. Grayson seem worried about anything lately that you’re aware of?”

  Jess would ask the husband that question as well. She hadn’t gotten to interview him at the scene, which was understandable. He had followed the coroner’s vehicle back to Cooper Green. He was most unhappy that his ex-wife had not been instructed to back off. In fact, according to what Jess had overheard the other cops outside saying, Grayson and Baron had carried on quite the screaming match outside the murder scene. Dr. Leeds, the official coroner of record on the case, had stood his ground on
having her at his side and that was that.

  “She never mentioned anything to me.” Trenton made a face that suggested he’d just remembered something. “She did complain that since her husband was never home and she got no breaks that the kid was driving her nuts. I didn’t pay much attention though. That’s what I hear from most of the wives. Sometimes it’s a come on,” he added bluntly, “but not with Mrs. Grayson. She wasn’t interested.”

  “Interested in what exactly?” Jess closed the file and waited for his response. The man had no shame. She agreed with Harper. Trenton was far too shallow to have invested enough emotion to murder a victim the way Gabrielle Grayson had been murdered.

  “In sex.” He lifted his shoulders and let them drop in another lackadaisical shrug. “Some are lonely, others just need a little excitement in their lives. It’s one of the perks that comes with the job, you know. A fringe benefit.”

  “Do the wives pay you for these additional services? We do have laws against that sort of transaction, Mr. Trenton. But then you’re aware of that, aren’t you?”

  His posture tensed just the slightest bit. “I don’t get paid for sex anymore, Chief Harris. That was a past life I don’t care to revisit. I maintain very expensive pools for very wealthy people. If I provide an extra service here and there or just a little intimate companionship I get a better tip, that’s all.”

  Jess resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “But Mrs. Grayson is not wealthy, correct? And she didn’t live in one of the mansions you typically cater to.”

  He exhaled a big breath. “All right. You got me. Mrs. Grayson’s pool wasn’t on my regular billing plan. She paid me what she could afford. But I would have done it for free for the rest of my life if she’d let me. But she wouldn’t. This year, she even insisted on paying me the same as everyone else since her finances were better.”

  “Why is that, Mr. Trenton?” Guys like Trenton rarely did anything nice for anyone other than themselves. The comment about Grayson’s improved finances she would follow up on soon enough. “Why would you have worked for free for Mrs. Grayson?”

  “Three years ago I did a stint in rehab.” He puffed out a big breath. “Gabrielle was the head nurse. She helped me through it. I would never’ve gotten my act together again without her help, and I didn’t make it easy for her to help me, trust me. I owe her my life.”

  The seconds ticked off as his admission elbowed its way into what Jess had surmised about him. She hadn’t expected honesty or compassion and it felt as if she’d just gotten both. She suspected there was more behind that peacockish facade he paraded. “Thank you, Mr. Trenton.” She scooted back her chair and stood. “If we have additional questions we know where to find you. Be advised that you’ll need to remain available until this investigation is closed.”

  “You got a pool, Chief Harris?” he asked, his gaze blatantly roving over her as he got to his feet. “My rates are reasonable and I’ve never had a dissatisfied customer.”

  Jess laughed. “No, Mr. Trenton, I do not have a pool.” In fact, she didn’t even have a roof to call her own. She had to do something about that. Soon. “I’ll see that someone takes you back to your SUV.”

  Outside the interview room, Sergeant Harper waited. “Trenton ready to go?”

  “He is and, unfortunately, if he knows anything he’s not ready to share just yet. Has Lieutenant Grayson arrived?”

  “He and his attorney are waiting for you in Chief Burnett’s office.”

  It wasn’t surprising that Grayson would have an attorney already. As an experienced cop he would understand his position in the investigation. Husbands always had to be cleared when wives were murdered. And he was likely still furious that his ex-wife was involved in the case on any level. That decision had legal trouble painted all over it. Who wouldn’t want legal representation considering all that?

  “I just spoke to Chief Waters over at the South Precinct,” Harper went on. “He wanted to be sure we understood that Grayson is one of the best BPD has and we’d better take care of him. I let him know the case is in good hands.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant.” Chief Waters’s assurances were exactly the accolades she expected. Grayson was a highly decorated veteran detective. Waters and his division couldn’t be involved with the investigation but his input as regards Grayson was duly noted.

  Jess’s senior detective gave her a nod. “Waters is reviewing the cases assigned to Grayson over the past two years but he doesn’t recall anything that would have earned him this brand of enemy. He believes the trouble came from his work with Captain Allen’s team.”

  Just another reason for her to want to wring Allen’s neck. Was it too much to ask for a little professional courtesy? “Whatever he’s been doing for Allen, we need full disclosure.”

  “Already on it, ma’am.”

  “Keep me posted, Sergeant, and please escort Mr. Trenton back to his vehicle at the Grayson home.” She leaned in a little. “See if you can learn anything more about his time in rehab. The victim was the head nurse when he was there.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Burnett’s office was on the fourth floor and Jess opted for the elevator. Not that she was opposed to climbing the two flights of stairs, but these were her only shoes at the moment. Snapping a heel would be a problem. And the truth was she hadn’t gotten into a fitness routine since her move south. Even two flights of stairs would probably kick her butt at this point. No need to go into an interview out of breath.

  Tomorrow, she promised herself. She would get into some sort of normal workout routine tomorrow. Next week at the latest.

  Detective Wells was back in the SPU office gathering the latest financials on the Graysons, along with Gabrielle’s family and employment history. Officer Cook, another member of Jess’s small unit, was tasked with going over the information in Grayson’s official personnel jacket. Jess had scanned his as well as his partner’s as soon as she arrived back at her office. Unless Grayson had changed his mind since bringing in his attorney, he had given carte blanche to this investigation.

  As much as Jess wanted to assume the husband was completely innocent, it was her job to vet him the same as she did all other persons of interest and potential suspects.

  Tara, Burnett’s receptionist, greeted Jess as she entered the cozy and richly appointed lobby of Birmingham’s chief of police.

  “Chief Burnett’s expecting me.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Sheila’s still at lunch so you should just go right on in.”

  Jess thanked Tara and made the short journey down the hall to Burnett’s private office. His personal secretary’s desk stood in a more intimate waiting area just outside his door. Jess gave the door a rap as she opened it.

  At the head of his conference table, Chief of Police Daniel Burnett stood and motioned for her to come in. His gaze swept over her as if he needed to ensure she was in one piece. Or maybe he was remembering those frantic minutes in his SUV last night before all hell had broken loose.

  Lieutenant Grayson and his attorney rose, joining Burnett and yanking Jess back to attention. She didn’t recognize the attorney and Grayson looked as if he’d barely tacked himself back together for this meeting.

  “Gentlemen, this is Deputy Chief Jess Harris, head of our SPU and the lady we’ve been talking about for the past fifteen minutes.” Burnett underscored the last with a pointed look at her.

  Jess paused at the chair directly across the table from Grayson. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, Lieutenant. I assure you it was in the interest of this case.” She extended her hand toward him. “I am so sorry for your loss.”

  Grayson accepted her offered hand and gave it a feeble shake. “I’m grateful that Chief Burnett put your team on this. I’m aware of your reputation, Chief Harris, and I want whoever did this found as quickly as possible. My wife”—he visibly struggled to maintain his composure—“deserves speedy justice.” A single tear slid down his stony jaw.

  Jess studied his face and eyes.
The agony was genuine. She’d bet her scrawny savings on it. “I appreciate your confidence, sir.”

  The attorney offered his hand next. “Marcus Davenport. I’ll be representing the interests of Lieutenant Grayson and his family during these grim proceedings.”

  Made sense. Davenport was the city attorney. Jess hadn’t met him before but she knew the name. Davenport would want his thumb on the pulse of this investigation.

  “Of course.” She shook his hand. “It’s a shame we have to meet under these circumstances.”

  They settled in their seats and Burnett started the conversation. “Lieutenant, you’ve been in the department far too long for me or anyone else to presume to enlighten you on how this investigation will proceed. Why don’t you offer whatever suggestions or questions you have and we’ll go from there?”

  “I’ve tried all morning to think if anything was different… but the truth is, nothing comes to mind.” More of those tears glittered in his eyes.

  “What about your work with Captain Allen?” Jess prodded. The gang-related avenue was one she’d like to close as quickly as possible, since her instincts were pointing her in a different direction.

  Grayson blinked as if just waking up. “I only started working with the Gang Task Force a week ago.” He dragged in a shaky breath. “I’ve had no run-ins with any gang members. Nothing. I can’t imagine how any of them even know I exist. And yet, somehow…” His face crumpled. “How could this happen?”

  “Mrs. Grayson hadn’t mentioned any strangers in your neighborhood? No encounters at the supermarket?” Jess asked.

  Grayson cleared his throat and took a breath. “Nothing. We talked every day at lunch and if I worked late, I always dropped by in time to help tuck in our son.” His voice cracked on the words. “There just wasn’t any warning. And absolutely nothing in the house appears to be missing. It doesn’t make any sense.”