“So we’re paying her to talk? And she agreed to that?”
“No, we’re giving her a donation to discuss a very difficult time in her life.”
Charlene stared at her. “Max approved this? I don’t recall you saying he was onboard with you coming out here to this house.”
Tamara grabbed her purse and briefcase. This was something she could do to help. Everyone else had pitched in. Brock used Mark, Cody, Charlene, and even Crystal, to check leads on Sasha Loils, but no one had talked to the woman. “No. But there is an underlying reason this woman is telling anybody who’ll listen what happened. Once Max found out she lost her child years ago, I knew it had something to do with all this. None of the guys can interview her, but I can. We can. Now let’s go.” She opened the door and stepped out, hoping Charlene came with her. Despite wanting to help Max, Tamara wasn’t crazy. Max came to this place unannounced and wound up injured. No matter what Charlene looked like on the outside, she was a man who could shoot a pistol with deadly accuracy and could drop a four hundred pound man with her bare hands. Tamara had witnessed the latter and prayed never to see such a sight again.
“Alright, but if Max asks, make sure you tell him it was your idea and that you dragged me along. We need to be back in time for me to go to work.” Charlene straightened her dress and eyed Tamara. “I don’t want to miss a moment of watching Adele sweep the floor and clean tables. Max added that to her job, fits her I think.”
They walked to the porch, before they could knock the door opened. “You the people from We Care for You?” a petite redhead asked from behind the outer glass door.
“Yes. I’m Audrey Gibbs and this is Charlene Wright.” Tamara smiled. She was using her middle name while hoping Brock had done his part and made sure the organization cleared the two of them.
“Nice to meet you. I got a reconfirmation call that you were coming. Come in, come in.” She stepped back.
Tamara’s gaze slid to the floor and then back at the woman again.
“Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?” Sasha offered.
“Water, if you have a bottle,” Charlene said.
“Nothing for me,” Tamara said. She sat near the edge of her chair, looking at the fading bruises on the side of Loils' face. Tamara’s heart hurt for the woman. No matter what, no woman should ever be assaulted, especially at home, a place of safety. Charlene didn’t bother trying to hide her interest and looked all around the room from her chair.
“Here you are,” their host said when she returned with the bottle of water.
“Thank you.” Charlene twisted off the top and took a few sips.
“As you know, our organization is committed to helping those who've suffered the loss of a child, spouse, parent or sibling. Names can be turned in anonymously, and we have a group of volunteers who go through that list and prequalify potential clients. When we spoke on the phone, you agreed to our terms.”
“Yes… yes. I need to talk about it, I used to… but haven’t in a long time. I had a friend, she understood, but she can’t talk anymore.” She shrugged in a-that’s-the-way-life-happens-sometimes manner.
Tamara wasn’t interested in her friend, she wanted to know about the child and if that triggered what happened when Max was there. “I understand. And I have your gift card for when we’re done.”
Loils' eyes lit up. “Thank you, I appreciate it. Things have been crazy the last two weeks with the break-in.” She looked at Tamara and then Charlene, as if waiting for them to ask her questions. But Tamara had been dealing with the public long enough to know, if she remained quiet long enough, Loils would tell her anyway.
“My house… someone broke in while I was in the back room.” She pointed in that direction without taking her eyes off Tamara.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Should we come back another time? When you’re better?” Tamara reached for her bag.
“No…no. It’s good to talk about it, it keeps me from forgetting. Not that I’d ever forget,” she added in a rush.
“Of course not,” Charlene murmured. With a genuine look of concern she leaned forward. “Are you okay? Those bruises on your face look painful.”
Loils straightened, turned to the side and picked up a few pictures from the side table and handed them over. “Each day is easier. It was horrible. He was so angry, I don’t understand why he had to hit me, when he could’ve just left.”
Tamara’s hand covered her mouth at the pictures taken immediately after the assault. Loils had to be a dress size three, five tops. Blood matted her red hair, giving it a gruesome appearance. One side of her face was swollen twice its size and the eye on that side of her face was bloodshot and half-closed. Seeing proof of the assault made it difficult not to become horrified on the woman’s behalf.
“Bastard should be strung high and have his balls ripped off. Do you remember what that bastard looked like?” Charlene asked, shedding her soft voice for a deeper, darker one.
Tamara glanced at her and then watched Loils cringe. “Yes. I’ll never forget.” She went on to describe Max in perfect detail, right down to the tattoo on his chest. Tamara’s gut clenched. Charlene looked dumbstruck. If this woman’s story could get to them like this, Max wouldn’t stand a chance against a jury.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. We’ll make this interview quick because you have so much going on. Don’t worry, you’ll still get the gift card,” Tamara assured the woman.
“Thank you,” Loils said as she wiped the moisture from her face. “Seems like all I do these days is cry.” She glanced at Tamara and tried to smile.
“Don’t worry about it. I can’t say I’ve experienced anything similar, but you have my support and sympathy. If there is anything our organization can do to help, let me know.” She passed the woman a business card Gayle had made for her in the office.
Loils looked at it and then placed it on the table. “Thank you. That’s very kind.” She cleared her throat. “Michael was five when he died of a random virus that went bad really quickly. I didn’t have time to say goodbye or anything.” In the next two hours, she gave Tamara and Charlene an abbreviated history of her life. She talked about her ex-husband, her family, and her dead son.
Sasha Loils was angry at the world over the condition of her life. After listening for over two hours, Tamara delivered her assessment to Charlene on the two hour drive home.
“I agree to a point,” Charlene said looking out the window. “But someone beat that woman, not Chief, but someone else.” He sighed. “This is going to be ugly, because that Sasha Loils is damn believable. If I didn’t know Max, I’d have been in the lynching party to find him.”
“She believes everything she's saying and that’s going to hurt the case.” Tamara shook her head. “The woman even mentioned his tattoo, now that’s something.”
“I heard that and was surprised. I saw it in the jungle, but not in the states. Poor woman, she lost her son, then her husband, she’s barely making ends meet, and then someone breaks in and beats her. For no reason it seems, nothing was taken.” Sasha had sold Charlene on her story and she wasn’t easy to fool.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Tamara said. “Why her? Kinda like how I felt when the madness about Carin’s death was going down. But there was a reason, normally, there’s a reason. It just takes time to find it.”
“If I had to dig through everything she said today, I’d say she’s sticking to this charge because she’s lost so much. This time she’s not budging, she doesn’t plan to lose. Which is bad news for Chief.”
“Yeah, I thought it’d be a good idea to get inside her mind but I feel worse, even more hopeless now than I did before we went. I should’ve stayed home,” she grumbled beneath her breath.
Charlene patted her hand. “You did what you thought would help, it wasn’t a bad plan. Neither of us expected to find a real victim, admit it. I thought Sasha was some skank trying to get paid.”
Tamara hated to admit it, but s
he had thoughts of interviewing this woman and later walking into Max’s arms with the case solved, the victim unmasked, and the names of the masterminds of this whole ordeal. Instead, she was returning with pity for the victim and fear for her man, two useless emotions in this case.
“Yeah, I feel you,” Tamara said into the quiet. “I’ll tell Max everything she said and he can judge the quality of the last few hours. He and Brock should be done with his appointments by the time we get home.” She looked at Charlene. “Want me to drop you at the club or take you to your house?”
“Club. I got a change of clothes there, plus I need time to unwind with Mark. The way I’m feeling right now, I’d burn something. I need my man to ease me down a notch or two.”
Tamara’s cheeks warmed like they always did when Charlene talked plainly about her and Mark’s relationship. “Okay, no problem.”
“What do you think of Helen Grant?” Charlene asked while staring out the passenger window.
“Huh? The babysitter who took Kevin?” The change in conversation threw her.
“Yeah, what do you think of her?”
“Since I never met or saw her, my views are the same as Max’s. She’s a scumbag.” She glanced at Charlene, saw the smile and turned back. “Even though I’ve only heard one side of the story, I cannot imagine anything she could say that’d make me change my opinion.”
“Good. Max needs to find his son, nothing should interfere with that. What do you think of Beth and Terri, the two parasites from the south?”
Tamara burst out laughing. “Parasites? Max said he hasn’t done that much, just helped them out every now and then. Beth doesn’t seem that bad. Terri… I’m not sure about her. At first I thought she had a crush on Max, but it seems they just think of him as family. Why?”
“Beth asked for a job in the restaurant. Seems she plans to stay for a while. I think she’s dating one of the guys who comes to the club regularly, can’t recall his name, though.”
Surprised, Tamara didn’t have anything to say.
“Terri’s leaving, I think tomorrow or the next day. Every day she pushes it back. Tell Max to give that woman some money before I take up a collection in the club for her ticket.”
Tamara coughed to cover her laugh when she realized Charlene was serious. “Okay, I’ll um… mention it again. Did you hire Beth?” Max promised to write a check for Terri, but with everything going on; he must’ve forgotten.
“Yeah. I did. We could use someone older in the front, those young girls don’t quite understand being responsible on a Friday or Saturday night yet.”
Tamara nodded.
Charlene looked at her and shook her head. “Just don’t trust them, their timing coming to town and everything. Just don’t trust 'em.”
Tamara silently agreed.
Chapter Sixteen
Max sat with his foot on the stool, listening to Skinny, Jace and Brock. “Sasha Loils married two military men. The first marriage lasted ten years until her husband died in a training accident. A year and half later she married to Staff Sergeant Jason McKinney for eight years. After the divorce, she retook her maiden name. They had one son, he died when he was five from some type of bacterial virus.”
Brock looked at Max but didn’t interrupt Jace’s report.
“According to early reports, the union had a lot of challenges. Military police visited their home a few times for domestic issues until they could no longer use military housing. I’m checking to see if there was a history of abuse when they lived off base.”
“I’m sure there is. Get the names of the posts McKinney was stationed during the marriage. Use Crystal to find vets who were stationed at the same time so I can get an idea of the way things were handled on post before I go up the chain to ask for records,” Max said.
Jace nodded.
Max thought over everything he’d just heard from the three men, it didn’t look good. “It seems Sasha Loils has been victimized over time by a military man who should’ve been her first line of defense.” His thoughts traveled to Tamara and how he’d react if a man hit her. He’d kill the bastard.
“Could be the reason she’s sticking to her guns that you were the one who beat her,” Jace said.
“I’m sure the fact I wore the uniform plays into her testimony,” Max said. “But there has to be more. It’s tied into the men who jumped me in some way, one of them beat her, but she swears it was me. I never saw her. There’s no way she should be this positive, something’s off here. There has to be a way to connect the dots, to make a case of mistaken identity.”
“Everyone I’ve talked with have nothing but good things to say about her. Ms. Loils is a pillar in the community, does a lot of volunteer work, helps the elderly, that kind of thing. Everyone believes she’s stable and a good witness,” Jace said standing. “There’s something we’ve missed, we’ll keep talking to family and friends, something will break.”
Max hoped so. Right now, the case against him looked solid. Nick had a lot of questions but they had few answers.
“I’m not sure what Nick can do with this information regarding her former husband’s abuse, considering her recent assault that may not be the best avenue to drive down,” Brock said.
“Good point. Let’s check every place they were stationed, she may have said something or done something we can use,” Max said.
“I’m on it,” Jace said.
“I got a few callbacks on the Helen Grant deal,” Skinny said. “How you want me to handle it?”
“Deal with those first, when you’re done, come back and help with this case,” Max said before Brock could respond.
“Will do.” Skinny nodded and walked out with Jace.
“This is bullshit. We aren’t any closer to breaking her testimony and that’s not good,” Max said to Brock once the front door closed.
“No, it’s not.”
Max’s lips lifted in a ghost of a smile at his partner’s frank words. “If anything happens to me, promise you’ll continue to search for my son.”
Brock took his time standing and facing Max, who sat nearby. “No. If I promise, then it’s telling myself you won’t be able to search for him and I can’t, won’t, admit that. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. So you need to think, think hard about what happened that night. We’re going to do the cops' job and find whoever set this up and clear you.”
Max nodded slowly, canceled the pity party that had been forming in his thoughts. “That night…” he tried to recall what happened and met a blank wall. He tried again and then again. Nothing. “I don’t remember anything after the beating until you picked me up. Give me some time, I’ll work on that.”
Brock nodded. “I’ll send Nick the files in a few minutes. What are you going to do about Adele? Jose was my friend, a close friend, and I’d walk through fire for him, but he’d shoot this bitch if he could.”
Max sighed. “There are days I wish I’d kidnapped Jose to keep him from marrying that woman.” He looked over at Brock. “She’s taking money from some thug? We sure?”
Brock nodded. “Not a thug, from Vincente Baretti. Small in the grand scheme of things but well connected. I came across a call she made to him while scanning the club for bugs and checking incoming calls. She called him while I was in another area of the club and the scanner picked it up. Then I checked her bank accounts, she has a separate one for extra money.”
Max’s brow rose at the emphasis placed on extra. “Don’t tell me Adele’s a call girl.” He wouldn’t believe the stuck up bitch would allow anyone to touch her.
“No. Not that. I meant she places the money from Baretti in that account. It’s a nice amount too. What do you think she’s doing to earn it?”
“Thoughts?” Max asked, too exhausted to expend the energy. He was sure Brock had given the matter some thought.
“You were jumped at a house where no one knew you were headed. How’d they know you were coming?”
“Wait. That would tie her to Helen.” M
ax slapped his thigh and sat forward. “Because I was tracking a lead to Helen at that house.” He looked up at Brock with a tight smile. “In fact, we’ve lost focus. This whole bogus charge happened when I followed a lead to find Helen.” He looked at Brock, who stared at him. “That’s the dots we’ve been missing. This Loils woman screamed so loud about the assault we forgot the baseline.”
Brock nodded. “Damn, you’re right. And I convinced you to pull the guys for this.”
“I didn’t. Skinny never stopped searching for Helen and Kevin. I just couldn’t do that. I couldn’t live with myself if anything… I kept him on the search.”
“Good. New thread… Vincente and Adele? Vincente and Helen? Adele and Helen? Where’s the connection?” Brock paced. “How’d she know to tell him where you were headed? And not just this time, there have been several times we arrived minutes too late. Has she been feeding them information since she returned? Or did she replace someone else?”
Max’s head spun. So many questions, not enough answers. “Ask her. The lawsuit’s a joke. I don’t want her at the club, there’s no need to drag this out. Just take her somewhere and ask about her connections. Explain her new situation in detail, she’s cut off. She gets nothing else, nothing. I’ll have Nick make it final. No matter what, I’m done with Adele after this. Take Jace, he’s good.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll get on it after I take care of these other things.” Brock placed his laptop in its bag, followed by a few files. “You okay? Need anything?” he looked at Max.
“I’m good. Tamara will be here soon, we’ll grab a bite to eat and then I’ll take the meds.” He stretched and winced at the pain in his chest.
“Okay, I’ll talk to you as soon as I find out something,” Brock said, heading toward the door. He stopped and looked outside. “Tamara’s here now. I’m leaving you in good hands.” With a wave he stepped across the threshold.
Max heard voices and smiled when she walked inside.
“Hi, how’re you doing?” she asked, heading toward him.
Lies in the Morgue Page 8