by Roger Hayden
He dropped them on his desk, gasping for breath. It didn't make any sense that Slater had the photos but had said nothing. Unless, of course, he was involved, which was unthinkable. Knight heard someone approaching from behind him and gathered the pictures together, hiding them in the drawer directly under his keyboard.
“There you are,” Agent Garrett said as she walked in. “I had almost given up on you.”
Knight turned around and tried to conceal his nervousness. “Good morning!”
He grabbed the tall coffee cup and held it up. “Thanks for the coffee. I owe you.”
“Don't mention it,” she said, poised and professional as always. “I just spoke with Captain Marshall, and he's on board with my plan. I have to hand it to your boss, he can be fair when the situation calls for it.”
Knight nodded. “What's the plan then? You mentioned you one. Let's hear it.”
Garrett smiled as she pulled Slater's chair over and sat. “No guarantees, but I think it might work.”
Knight leaned forward with his hands folded. “I'm all ears.”
She began with her hands out as though she was giving a presentation. “It's simple, really. We push to get Chet Daniels arraigned today. We agree with his counsel's request to set bail.”
Knight's cooperative demeanor stopped as he narrowed his eyes. “Have you lost your mind?”
Garrett hit his desk with her palm, startling him. “So we can follow him, Detective. Get it? If he's as involved as you think he is, we'll simply track his movements after his release. It's our best option right now.” She leaned closer, talking in confidence. “I believe the real kidnapper is a professional. They're using Daniels somehow. This could be about money, or it could be something far worse. Either way, this isn't going to stop. We have to consider our options.”
“What options? If it's about money, where's the ransom demand?” Knight asked. “What do you think he's doing with these girls?”
Garrett closed her eyes, lowering her head. “I don't know. We can only imagine.” She then looked at Knight. “Are you on board?”
Knight thought of the pictures in his drawer. He had no idea what Slater would be doing with them. Unless, of course, his partner of ten years was involved in the kidnappings. The mere thought was surreal, insane even. He didn't know what to think of it, but there had to be a reason why Slater wasn't answering his phone.
There had to be an explanation for his evasiveness, beyond his usual excuses. The pictures changed everything. Knight stared past Garrett as she waited for his answer. A sinking feeling of betrayal festered within. How could he have been so blind to his partner's deception? The letters left on his front door began to make more sense.
Garrett waved a hand in front of his face. “Still with us, Detective?”
He glanced up at her. “Yes. If you think that's the best way to go with this, count me in.”
“We have to be patient though. He may not lead us to the kidnapper right away, but in the meantime, we’ll get a warrant to track his phone and vehicle.” She then turned and looked at Slater's desk. “Have you heard from him yet?”
Knight hesitated to answer. “No. Not yet. I don't think he's going to be much help from here on out, honestly.” He stood up in a hurry and opened the desk drawer, grabbing the photos. He slid them inside his coat pocket as Garrett looked away and then told her that he had to make a phone call before they left. A hint of suspicion came across her face that made him nervous. “My wife and daughter are in a bit of a spat right now,” he continued. “I just need to call and make sure everything is okay.”
“Certainly,” she said, moving out of his way.
Knight hurried past her and down the hall toward the restrooms and vending machines. He leaned against a nearby pillar and placed one last call to Slater. This time, the phone went to voice mail without a single ring. He waited for the same annoying beep and then spoke, hushed but intense. “Call me back right away. You have some explaining to do, and if I don't hear from you, I'll take it straight to the captain. I'm not joking, Simon. Fucking call me back before we go to your apartment and yank you out of there.” He hung up with an exhausted sigh, still unable to completely process his latest discovery. A group of police officers walked by as Knight ducked behind the pillar and out of sight. Once they passed, he returned to his desk, limping as the pain in his knee returned.
Agent Garrett was there with her bag of files over her shoulder, ready to leave. “That was quick. Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks.” He turned to leave and then halted and snapped his fingers. “We should go by Slater's apartment later. I'm concerned about him.”
Garrett nodded and looked at her watch. “Sure, we can do that. Daniels is set to see the judge at ten, so I'd advise that we go to the courthouse first.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Knight said.
They left his cubicle together and continued down the hall. Their morning was off to a strange but promising start. He was certain that things were only going to get more complicated as the day progressed.
They arrived at the Melville County Courthouse with time to spare. Knight pulled his car into one of the few empty spaces left in the back of the parking lot. After nine, the place was always crowded. Agent Garrett rode along in the passenger seat, eager to put her plan into action. She had already contacted headquarters and received a surveillance warrant for Chet Daniels, pending his bail. The bureau could work quickly when it wanted to. Garrett was determined to see the case through, which Knight had to admire. She hadn't given up yet despite their setbacks.
Once parked, Knight sat with his hands gripping the wheel as the car idled. He felt sick inside and nervous about the outcome. He was angrier at his partner than he had ever been, but he still couldn't bring himself to show Garrett the pictures. Slater had operated with impunity right under their noses. Knight blamed himself. How could he have been so blind? Garrett finished her call to headquarters and then looked at him, suspicious as though she could read guilt on his face.
“Is something bothering you?” she asked. “You seem distant this morning.”
Knight turned to her and wiped his brow. He was sweating even though the car was cool inside. “I was just wondering about Dixon again. If we can find out who's paying him, that might bring us closer to the truth.”
Garrett shook her head. “According to Dixon, he's on a reduced retainer fee from Daniels.”
“I call bullshit,” Knight said.
“Be that as it may, we can't prove otherwise. Dixon has a history of taking on low-income clients. He stated that it helps his PR image.”
Knight switched off the ignition and opened his door. “Doesn't add up.”
“Well, you can ask him yourself in a moment,” Garrett said, opening her door and stepping out.
Knight stepped out of his car and swung the door shut. There was an increasing chill in the air. The radiant blue morning sky was now overcast with a chance of light showers, according to the weather report. They walked across the parking lot toward the brick courthouse with its curved entrance ramp and tall glass windows. Armed security guards stood near as they walked inside, through the metal detectors and up the stairs to Courtroom A, where Daniels was to be arraigned.
Knight reached the second floor, winded, as he leaned against a side railing to catch his breath. Garrett walked past him, intent on her mission. The courtroom doors were open. Well-dressed men and women moved about through the nearby halls, their footsteps echoing on the marble floor. For a moment, Knight felt invisible to them all. He hadn't been to the courthouse in a month or two. He had never much cared for the place, though he couldn't deny the appeal of its old-fashioned aesthetic and design.
There were large columns that reached high to the glass ceiling above. The walls outside the courtroom were of a glossy stained-wood. Large historical paintings were hung all along the corridor, as if in a museum. Somewhere within these walls, justice was being served.
&n
bsp; Marv Dixon stood near the open courtroom. Garrett approached him, with Knight at her side. The lawyer appeared pleased. Agent Garrett played her part as she withheld their intentions. Dixon shook her hand, offering pleasantries. He nodded at Knight and even made a joke about the stairs at Knight's expense, or so it seemed.
“They should really put an escalator in this place, eh Detective?” he said with a wink.
“The easier it would be for you to chase ambulances,” Knight said back, the best he could come up with. Besides, there was an elevator somewhere.
Dixon smiled, his slicked jet-black hair shiny as ever. “Very funny. I trust that you'll both be fair, given my client's reluctance to discuss certain abuse at the hands of your department.”
Knight stepped forward and snapped, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Tossing him onto the ground like a rag doll after he was in handcuffs,” Dixon said. “And I haven't even gotten to the abuse he suffered in the interrogation room.”
Agent Garrett moved in between them to get things back on track. “Never mind all of that. The charges against your client stand, and that's between you and the prosecutor.” She then spoke with a tone of compromise, surprising the lawyer. “We're not going to stand in the way of Mr. Daniels's bail. That's all you need to know.”
Dixon took a step back. “That's an unexpected turn, Agent Garrett. Seems like you two have had a change of heart.”
“Another girl was kidnapped, as you know,” Garrett said. “We no longer believe that Mr. Daniels is connected to this, though he did evade a federal agent.”
Knight stood quiet as he held his tongue. Dixon seemed to buy into what she was saying, and that's exactly what they wanted. He looked at his watch and then back at them, beaming with confidence. “Looks like the show is about to start.” He walked into the courtroom, leaving them standing there.
“I can’t stand that guy,” Knight said to Garrett.
She beckoned him inside, disregarding the comment. They entered the courtroom, where rows of long wooden benches were arrayed on both sides. There were a few people seated. Beyond the wooden railing ahead were two long tables, opposite each other, a jury box, and the judge's raised bench, which overlooked the courtroom.
Dixon sat at the defendant table, opening his briefcase. The county prosecutor sat opposite him, writing on a notepad. He wore the grayest of gray suits and had thinning hair in the back. Tall windows lined both sides of the room, their blinds open.
A bailiff soon entered the room from a back door, escorting Daniels inside. The handcuffed defendant wore an orange jumpsuit and looked tired and disoriented as he was led to his table. After being seated, the judge entered the room from a back door on the other side, dressed in a black robe.
“All rise for the Honorable Judge Elliot T. Paulson,” the bailiff announced.
The room stood as the judge made his way to the bench, carrying a thick docket of paperwork bound together. He was an older man with white hair and a flabby neck that hung low. He glanced at the room through his large-framed glasses and asked them to sit. Knight recognized Paulson from over the years.
The judge opened his binder and began to separate papers into different stacks. Dixon spoke quietly into his client's ear as they waited. Knight and Garrett watched the proceedings from the third row on the left. Garrett stared ahead, motionless, thinking only of Daniels being granted bail and being released.
Paulson leaned forward and spoke into the microphone attached to his desk. “Will the defendant please rise?”
Dixon touched Daniels on the shoulder as they both stood up.
“Mr. Daniels, you have been charged with evading arrest and obstruction of justice of a federal investigation. How do you plead?”
Daniels timidly leaned forward and answered. “No contest, your Honor.”
Paulson then looked at the prosecutor. “How would the prosecution like to proceed?”
The man rose from the table, much taller than expected standing up, and addressed the judge. “Both penalties carry with them up to five years and a hundred-thousand dollar fine. The county also believes that Mr. Daniels may be involved in a kidnapping ring.”
Dixon spun around, infuriated. “Objection, your Honor! There is no evidence to support such allegations, which is why no such charges were filed.”
Paulson placed a wary hand up, demanding calm. “Save it for trial, Mr. Dixon.” He glanced down, reading from his file, and then spoke into the microphone. “Given Mr. Daniels’s finances and psychological history, bail will be set at five thousand dollars.” He grabbed his gavel and paused, glancing up at Knight and Agent Garrett in the back row. “It's my understanding that the arresting officers are in the courtroom today. Would they have anything to add?”
Knight looked at Garrett as she immediately stood up. “We agree with the judge's decision and have no objections. We would only ask that Mr. Daniels be considered a flight risk and barred from leaving the city limits.”
“Certainly,” Paulson said. “Bail is set, and we'll reconvene at a later date.” He smacked the gavel with finality and turned away.
Dixon appeared ecstatic as he slapped Daniels on the back and shook his hand. Knight looked at Garrett, trying to feel as good about what just happened as she did. “That was faster than usual,” he said.
“It buys us a little time, but we need to get moving.”
Dixon looked back at them with a gaping smile as he gave them a thumbs up. If Knight didn't know any better, he'd think that the lawyer was in on the plan as well. The bailiff soon escorted Daniels out of the room, and the courtroom bustled with light conversation. Garrett walked off and approached the wooden railing where Dixon stood victorious. Knight pushed himself up with a grunt and followed.
Dixon closed his briefcase and glanced at his watch as though he was in a hurry. “I'm glad you saw fit to treat my client with a modicum of fairness.”
Garrett's lips curled into a brief smile as she offered her own assessment. “I hope you've got a good defense ready come trial. The bureau is looking to throw the book at him.”
Dixon covered his mouth, aghast at the threat even as his cockiness showed through. “Come on, Agent Garrett. The charges are spotty at best. What do you get out of destroying the poor man's life?”
“The law is the law,” she said, straight faced. “In the meantime, tell your client to stay out of trouble.”
Dixon grabbed his briefcase and walked through the swinging partition, exiting the courtroom without another word. After he was out of hearing range, Knight leaned in. “I'm assuming that he'll be driving our suspect home.”
“We can count on it,” Garrett said. “He seems very protective of his clients.”
“This one, especially,” Knight added.
“Come on,” Garrett said, touching his arm. “We've got federal agents in an unmarked car watching his trailer as we speak.”
They left of the courtroom, determined to see where Daniels would lead them. Garrett mentioned that they had attached a GPS tracker under Daniels's truck in addition to monitoring his calls and text messages. She was using all the resources at her disposal. Knight hoped her plan would work, despite his mixed feelings about his partner's possible involvement. He couldn't keep it from Agent Garrett much longer. She was sidetracked, however, talking to her team on a Bluetooth earpiece. Once outside, they continued through the parking lot toward Knight's car. He had a single destination in mind, a slight detour along the way. He only hoped that Slater would be home.
It was a little past noon, almost lunchtime. Knight drove through downtown, past a plethora of office buildings, shops, restaurants, and bars. Even midday traffic had its share of congestion. Marv Dixon drove three cars ahead of them as they kept a careful distance. Garrett was right. The dedicated lawyer seemed to be driving his newly-released client home, though they were far from the outskirts of town, where Palm Landings was located. Most curious of all, they were drawing closer to Slater's apartm
ent complex.
They approached a busy intersection as Dixon veered into the left turn lane. Garrett perked up, leaning forward in her seat, and told him to get closer.
Knight moved into the turn lane, now with only one car separating them from Dixon's shiny black Chrysler. The windows were tinted, and it was hard to see him or Daniels inside, but they were certain they had the right car. The light turned red as Knight turned down the volume on the police radio, which crackled with endless chatter. The search for Jenny Martin had reached its second day, and the department had dedicated full assets to finding her, including police officers and their vehicles. As they sat at the light, Garrett scrolled through her cell phone map of the area.
“Dixon's law office is only two blocks away.”
Knight felt a moment of relief. Not Slater’s place after all then? “Two blocks that way?” Knight asked, pointing left.
“Precisely,” she answered.
The light turned green, and they continued to follow him down a one-way street of shops and street vendors on both sides. Knight shifted his sunglasses and tried to keep down as the line of traffic slowed. He had followed cars before, closing in on suspects while always maintaining an element of surprise. That day felt no different, though he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being led away from the target.
A tall brick building came into view on the right. The outside sign listed several businesses located within, the law offices of Marv Dixon being one of them. Ahead, Dixon's car flashed its right turn signal and sped into a parking lot next to the building.
Knight bypassed the lot and remained with the flow of traffic, leaving the building behind them. Garrett whipped her head around, eyes on Dixon's car as it parked.
“Slow down,” she said. “Find a place to pull over.”
“Where?” Knight said, waving his arm to signal the lack of any nearby parking.