Muffled Echoes

by G. K. Parks

  “Lower your voice, Agent Parker,” Lucca hissed, glancing behind him.

  “Don’t tell me what to do, boy scout. Are you afraid I’ll tarnish your reputation by calling you out for the shit you’ve been pulling?”

  “Alexis, please,” he whispered, “now’s not the time to get into this.”

  “What else is new? It’ll never be the time. Just tell me what the problem is, and I’ll stay out of your way.”

  “It’s not you.”

  Before I could respond with a snappy comeback, my desk phone rang. “This isn’t over,” I warned, lifting the receiver. “Parker,” I said.

  “Alex, drop whatever you’re doing and meet us at the precinct. Grab Lucca and have him join us as well,” Jablonsky ordered.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Who was that?” Lucca asked, eyeing the phone.

  “Jablonsky. We’ve been summoned to the precinct.” I snorted. “Sorry, I guess I was wrong. You are going to be stuck with me in the field.”

  “A police station is hardly the field,” Lucca retorted. “Then again, with your recent track record, I’ll be prepared for armed combat.” He shouted across the room to Agent Cooper and the others inside the conference room that he’d be back later, and then he palmed his car keys. “C’mon, let’s go.”

  That uneasy feeling returned, and I swallowed. “Maybe we should drive separately,” I suggested.

  “For god’s sake, Parker, how many times do I have to come to the rescue before you decide that I’m not going to hurt you? I’m not out to get you. I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to you. If I did, don’t you think that I’d be off this case?”

  “Probably.” I got up from behind my desk, and we walked to the elevator. “But a lot of what happened still doesn’t make sense.”

  “One of these days, it will.” Lucca pushed the button for the garage. “Can you trust me, Alex, at least for today?”

  “Sure, just don’t make me regret it.” Despite the words, I didn’t trust him, and he knew it.

  The silence inside the vehicle was too much for Lucca to take, and he cleared his throat, eyeing me out of the corner of his eye. When I failed to fill the silence, he took a deep breath and licked his lips.

  “You scared me that day on the off-ramp,” he said, breaching the most uncomfortable subject I could think of. “You were so shaky, but I thought it was from the crash. I didn’t realize it was more than that until you went down.” He snorted. “Jablonsky wouldn’t let you go. The hospital was a mess. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to losing someone on the job.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, literally, it was the closest I’d been in proximity to the action.”

  “Lucky you,” I repeated. “How about we go back to that silence thing we are so good at?”

  “I just don’t understand how, after that, you could doubt my allegiance.” He shifted his gaze to me. “Even now, you’re afraid to be alone in a car with me.”

  “Well, I imagine the feeling must be mutual.”

  “What I said was for your own good. Not mine.” Lucca shook his head. “You’re right, let’s just forget this. Silence is great.”

  “Yep.” I glanced at him before shifting my gaze out the windshield. I had missed the point of the conversation. I wasn’t sure if it had been an apology, a peace offering, or some weird thing to lull me into a false sense of security. I turned my head toward him again briefly and looked away when he looked at me. “What were you working on in the conference room?”

  “Monitoring Shade’s recent activity. Niko Horvat’s financials have gone haywire. There have been numerous six figure transfers in and out of his accounts. We suspect that he’s selling weapons and then transferring the funds to other accounts to keep them off the radar.”

  “What if he’s using the money to buy something else?”

  “We’re checking into it. The forensic accountants are tracing everything, but it looks like he’s been dealing with the Colombian cartels and some crime syndicates. So far, we don’t believe that he’s selling to any of the larger terrorist organizations.”

  “Maybe Shade doesn’t like the competition,” I suggested.

  “That could be. The analysts think that Niko has a specific goal in mind, and once he obtains the means necessary to make it happen, he’ll green light his operatives.”

  “How many operatives are we talking? We pegged Shade as having less than fifty members.”

  “It could be larger. You saw the firepower that was hiding in Pepper. They must be arming someone, and that would supply a small army.”

  “A small army that’s already stateside.” I bit my lip. “Y’know, it wouldn’t hurt to drive a little faster. The clock’s ticking.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Asshole,” I griped, smiling at him for the first time today. If he didn’t kill me, we’d find some way to work out our differences.

  Twenty-eight

  “There,” Tinsley said, pointing to the screen, “we can place Jakov Horvat at Pepper during the time of the murders.”

  “First, you have to prove that Donaldson and Ivan were murdered inside Pepper,” I muttered under my breath.

  “The drain,” Jablonsky offered. “CSU swabbed it, and the DNA results finally came back. It contained human blood belonging to Donaldson and an unknown party. A positive comparison hasn’t come back to Ivan yet, but I’m sure it will.”

  Tinsley nodded absently. She frowned and continued watching the footage from one of Pepper’s exterior cameras that happened to cover the emergency exit. She fast-forwarded, noting the plate number on the SUV and the timestamp.

  “How come we never see the bodies being loaded into the trunk?” Lucca asked. “Shouldn’t that be on the footage?”

  “Angles,” Tinsley said, cycling through again while her eyes remained transfixed on the monitor. “We’re lucky we even spotted Jakov.” She picked up the printed image and held it out to Jablonsky. “Do you honestly believe that this will make him talk?”

  “No,” Mark replied, “but it’s better than nothing.”

  “Where are we on Ivan?” I asked, feeling like this was a waste of time. “Do we know his actual identity yet?”

  My question garnered her full attention, and Tinsley looked up, scanning the room for signs of intruders. “Ivan Novak,” she replied. Standing abruptly, she headed for the door. “Parker, with me.”

  Mark nodded, and I followed her down the corridor and to a darkened office. The nameplate on the door indicated it was hers, and she unlocked the door and pushed inside, not waiting to see if I was behind her. She rolled her chair to the side and hefted a box onto the seat.

  “You were there,” she said as if that was explanation enough. “You spoke to Donaldson and Novak. The information in here might mean something to you, but I don’t want it leaving this room. I trust that you can determine what might be pertinent to our investigation and if any of it can help identify a cop killer. I’ve reviewed it from a counterterrorism perspective, but I don’t see a link between this and Shade. Obviously, you did. So find it.”

  “Has Jablonsky or anyone from the task force gone through this?” I asked, flipping through the pages inside the box.

  “I have.” She swallowed. “Look, I’m sure your team is great, but this is police business. This is a detective’s private files. It contains information that out of context could draw some of his decisions into question. Ivan Novak is not a good man. The fact that Donaldson was willing to overlook a number of offenses in exchange for intel means that there’s something more going on.”

  “I found it once. I’ll find it again.”

  “That’s what I like to hear. Good luck.” She moved toward the door, but I stopped her before she could leave.

  “Whatever relevant information I find will be shared with the task force, despite how it might make Donaldson look,” I warned.

  “I understand that.” She st
ared at me for a long moment. “I hope I’m not wrong about you.” Without another word, she closed the door and left me in the dark office to review Donaldson’s notes, files, and reports concerning Ivan Novak.

  Mr. Novak had been an enforcer for a crime syndicate. His arrest record was impressive. He’d served a nickel for aggravated assault. At the time, he had drugs on him, enough that the police felt he had intent to distribute, and I agreed with that assessment. Illegal gambling, assaults, robberies, and drug offenses littered the sheet. Frankly, I was surprised that there weren’t any homicides listed. Then again, he might not have been caught.

  My recollection of the bartender didn’t match up with this description of Ivan Novak. From what I remembered, he hadn’t been covered in prison tats or had a particularly intimidating demeanor. Then again, a white button-up shirt and black apron could do a lot to a person’s physical appearance.

  All of Donaldson’s notes concerning Ivan and the intel he’d provided were in relation to gang activity, or so it appeared. Ivan had handed Donaldson a number of large-scale burglaries, drug busts, a weapons raid, and a few illegal poker games. From Donaldson’s notes, he was waiting for Ivan to lead him to a big fish. Someone was behind these crimes, and Donaldson believed it was some Croatian Mafioso don. Unfortunately, no hard evidence linked the intel Ivan provided to a single entity. Frankly, these offenses could have been random, and Ivan might have been doing nothing more than pulling Donaldson’s chain. The proof was in the pudding, and we had no pudding. No wonder Tinsley was worried about sullying Donaldson’s name. It looked like he’d been gullible and jerked around by a common thug who decided to get paid while the police turned a blind eye to his criminal activities.

  Picking up a pad and paper, I made a list of the players that Ivan had ratted on. There was no mention of Jakov or Niko Horvat. Frankly, none of the names correlated to the list we had of suspected terrorists. However, there was one glaringly obvious truth. Ivan Novak worked at Pepper, which appeared to be a front for Shade. The connection had to be somewhere.

  Dammit. Why couldn’t I remember our interactions more fully? Sure, I’d met Donaldson prior to the meet, but it was a blur. Somehow, I persuaded him to let me speak to Ivan. But how did Ivan get on my radar? I practically laughed at my own stupidity. It wasn’t Ivan that I wanted to speak to. It was the inside connection to Pepper that I sought, and since Donaldson believed that Pepper was the stomping grounds for a crime syndicate, it made logical sense that he believed our cases overlapped. I must have agreed.

  “Hey, Tin Man,” a sergeant said, knocking as he entered the room, “I have that — oh, sorry, you’re not the lieutenant.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Who are you? Does she know you’re in here?” he asked.

  “Agent Parker, and yes, Lt. Tinsley left me in here to organize her files. I think I’m being punished.”

  He laughed. “Any idea where she is?”

  “The last I heard, she was watching surveillance videos.”

  “Okay,” he gave me another uncertain look, “stay put, just in case.”

  “Aye, aye, Sarge.”

  If I had broken into her office to steal files or intel, why would I stay put? It seemed moronic, but I let it go as I tried to get back to what I was doing. My train of thought had fractured, and I emptied the box again, remembering I was looking for information on Pepper instead of Ivan. Surely, Donaldson had some kind of notes on the restaurant in here.

  “Parker,” Tinsley called from the doorway, “this is Sergeant Evers.” The man who had just barged in smiled and nodded. “He pulled Donaldson’s notepads from records. They might be relevant to our investigation.” Evers placed a large sealed bag on the desk in front of me. “Thanks, Sarge.”

  “No prob, Tin Man,” he said, backing out of the room and leaving us alone.

  “Tin Man?” I asked.

  “I’m a heartless bitch.” She cracked a mirthless smile. “Some asshole started calling me that in the academy, and it stuck. My colleagues think it’s cute.”

  “I’m glad I don’t have your last name.” I opened the bag and sifted through the contents. “If I only had a heart.” I snorted. “At this point, I’d much prefer having a brain.”

  “I’d rather be the man behind the curtain who knows everything that’s happening.” She looked down at my notations. “I take it you haven’t found anything solid yet, Scarecrow.”

  “It’s not about Ivan. It’s about Pepper. I needed an in at Pepper, and Donaldson gave me Ivan. Unfortunately, that didn’t work out very well for any of us.”

  “See what you find in his pads, and I’ll update Jablonsky.”

  “What about Lucca?”

  “Your partner went back to the OIO to get a jump on interrogating Jakov.”

  Nodding, I turned my attention to the handwritten pages. Donaldson wasn’t a meticulous note taker, but the notes he bothered to make had dates, times, addresses, and names listed with the recorded facts. Most weren’t relevant to our Shade investigation, but since I didn’t know who might be involved, I had to read through everything. Deciding that I needed a list of Pepper’s employees, I texted Agent Cooper, who was kind enough to forward the twenty-seven names to me. I read through the list and then tackled Donaldson’s notepads, hoping to find a few matches.

  Squeezing the bridge of my nose, I blinked a few times and checked the time. I’d been reading and rereading Donaldson’s notepads for the last two hours. Five names matched. Ivan had provided intel on five of the Pepper employees. Two were cooks, one was a busboy, another was a waiter, and the last was an assistant manager. They all had access to the hidden room beneath the freezer.

  I stared at the last page from Donaldson’s most recent entry. Speculation that Pepper is base of ops. Details to follow. After that, he had noted the time of our meeting. I ran my finger over the indentions on the page, feeling a pang of sorrow and guilt. Then I went in search of Sergeant Evers.

  “Knock, knock,” I said, standing in the open doorway, “I have a quick question.”

  “Shoot,” he said.

  “Where was this?” I held up the final notepad with the police insignia on the cover. “It’s the newest.”

  “We found it when we cleared out his desk.” Evers looked pained. “We skimmed through it and added it to the stack. Is something wrong?”

  “No, I just didn’t know if he had it on him when things went sideways.”

  Evers shook his head. “Greg was a stickler for protecting his assets. Half the time, he wouldn’t even meet with an established asset with his badge. He was always afraid that there’d be a double-cross, and he’d compromise himself and his people.” Evers scoffed. “Stupid son-of-a-bitch.” He sighed. “You were with him at the end?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did he give those fuckers a good fight?”

  “Yes, he did.” I wanted to explain how I failed his brother in blue, but the words wouldn’t come. “I’m sorry,” I choked out, “I should have done more.”

  “Hey,” Evers stood, “are you okay?”

  “She’s fine,” Jablonsky said from behind. “Right, Parker?”

  “Yes, sir.” I clamped my mouth shut and composed myself. “I was verifying that our sleeper cell didn’t have access to Detective Donaldson’s notes.” I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and turned around. “We have five possibles inside Pepper based on the intel Donaldson received from Ivan. Jakov’s right. Shade knows. They’ve been under our noses this entire time. We need records, profiles, and to pull these assholes off the street before they can act.”

  “You heard the lady,” Tinsley said, appearing behind Jablonsky. “We’ll round them up.”

  I passed her the list of names, and she went to order the arrests be made. Since the Pepper employees were already under surveillance, federal agents were on standby to offer assistance. At least we knew who was involved, or so I hoped.

  “Parker,” Jablonsky pulled me into Tinsley’s empty
office and shut the door, “I’ll yell at you later for attempting to take the blame on Donaldson. Right now, I want to know how you decided these are Shade operatives.”

  “Ivan informed on them to Donaldson for drugs and weapons. Shade has the armory beneath the freezer. It stands to reason that they’re connected.”

  “Logical.” Jablonsky didn’t look wholly convinced. “What if we miss someone?”

  “What choice do we have?” I asked. “Unless Lucca magically makes Jakov talk, this is the only thing we have to go on. We can’t exactly ask Ivan about it.”

  “I don’t know.” Normally, Jablonsky wasn’t this wishy-washy. “Something doesn’t smell right.” He crinkled his nose. “We’ve had the owners and manager of Pepper in federal custody, but they’re practically spotless. Ridley and Davenport scrubbed every bit of footage we could get from inside Pepper, and nothing indicates it’s a base of operations for Shade. The weapons we found don’t exactly scream out terrorist plot. They scream out black market dealings and stolen goods, which would explain why a burglary detective was involved.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t seem that the stash beneath the freezer was worthy of an overseas airdrop.”

  “The food delivery trucks,” I said, pulling out my phone and clicking keys while I spoke, “that must be how they moved the cargo into Pepper without anyone noticing. It came in along with the food shipments.”

  “Enabling them to move it into the hidden room beneath the freezer during normal hours of operation without anyone being the wiser,” Jablonsky said. He removed his own phone and dialed Ridley. “I need to know when Pepper received deliveries and what other restaurants or stops the trucks made.”

  “I have a list of food service providers,” I said, handing my phone to Jablonsky. “Most serve the tri-state area. Shade could have disguised a truck to resemble one of them, or they have someone on the inside to make their illicit deliveries.”

  “Ridley, get me what you can off the footage.” Jablonsky disconnected, dialing Lucca next. After barking more orders to search through Pepper’s records for their providers, he hung up. Glancing at his watch, he took a deep breath. “It’s probably best that you stay here. After Tinsley has our suspects brought in, I’ll need someone to coordinate with the PD. With any luck, we’ll be getting actionable intel soon.”