by G. K. Parks
“Does she know anything about the situation with Knox?”
Justin shook his head. “Lucien did his best to keep me out of the loop. Gloria had no idea what was going on. She just answered phones and scheduled meetings.”
That meant she wouldn’t be able to help me piece this together. “What else can you tell me about Knox?”
“Everything’s in the file.” He nodded at the folder in my hand. “If you have any other questions after reading that, you’ll have to ask Lucien.” The intercom beeped. “Excuse me for a second. Mr. Almeada’s here. He’ll want to speak to you.”
While Justin was gone, I read the background information Cross had compiled on Knox, hoping to identify the party responsible for the break-in. According to the police report, the security system had been dismantled, indicating a professional team had been behind it. However, Knox didn’t do much outside of work and sports collecting. His collection had some expensive pieces, namely a championship ring, but robbing Knox wouldn’t lead to a big score without a fence. A pro probably wouldn’t waste his time on this, which meant the break-in had to be personal, just like the murder.
Before I could get any further, Mr. Almeada barged into the office. He looked pensive. “You shouldn’t be reading that.”
“Why not? Cross wants me to work the case.”
“He does, but you haven’t signed yet. We need to get the formalities out of the way before you begin work.” He placed his briefcase on the glass coffee table and popped open the lid. Removing a contract, which had tabbed signature boxes, he placed it on the edge of the table and put a pen on top. “We need to go over the terms.”
“Doesn’t that sound official?” I abandoned the file on Cross’s desk and crossed the room. Picking up the contract, I skimmed it for any hidden gotchas. But it looked like a run-of-the-mill agreement. “This says I’m working for you and not Cross.”
“That’s correct. I’ll be hiring you to investigate my client’s case and report back. Do you have a law license?” Almeada loomed above me, watching as I reviewed the paperwork.
“No.”
“But you graduated from law school.”
“Practicing law was never my intent.” I put the pen down. “Why? Are you having trouble finding lawyers at Reeves, Almeada, and Stockton who are willing to work on Cross’s case? I don’t want to sit second chair.”
Almeada rubbed a hand over his mouth to hide his snort. He found my comment amusing. “I’m handling Lucien’s case personally. Hiring you to do some digging into the matter counts as work-product. It’ll be privileged, which is why I need you to sign the contract.”
Justin entered the office and closed the door. He eyed me from across the room, silently encouraging me to sign.
“Do you know who Cross is accused of killing?” I asked the attorney.
“I have all the details.” Almeada checked the time. “I have to get back to the precinct soon. They plan to continue the interview after lunch. I’d like you to come with me. I can brief you in the car if you’re fuzzy on the details.”
I could refuse, but I didn’t know what would happen if I did. A lot was riding on this—my livelihood, Martin’s business, and Cross’s freedom. “I have doubts concerning Cross’s innocence. I won’t conceal a crime. Are you sure you want me to sign this? The other investigators in this office would be a much better fit. Bennett Renner would be perfect.”
“Renner can’t be involved. In fact, you’ll have to operate solo while you investigate. Anything you discover is not to be shared with anyone outside of Cross’s legal team.” Almeada picked the pen up and slipped it back into my hand. “You’ll understand why soon enough. Just sign. We have to get going.”
“Did he do it?” I asked.
Almeada swallowed. “I don’t know. It’ll be your job to find out.”
“What if I come up with an answer you don’t like? Then what? We hide it? Bury it? Cover it up?”
“That’ll be my problem, not yours.”
“How is it not my problem? I swore an oath—”
“You’re no longer a federal agent, Ms. Parker. Your oath is worthless.”
Before I could respond, Justin crossed the room and grasped my forearm. “He didn’t do it.” The conviction in his eyes told me he believed it. “Lucien wouldn’t have insisted on assigning you this case if he had anything to hide. He knows you won’t stop until you get the truth. He does a lot of questionable things, but he wouldn’t self-destruct like this.”
Almeada choked a little on his next inhale.
Justin glared at him. “He wouldn’t.”
“I hope you’re right.” I signed and initialed all the tabs and handed the contract back to Almeada. “Now what?”
The attorney double-checked everything and tucked it into his briefcase. “Let’s go speak to our client.” He strode out of the office and straight to the elevator. “You’ve had a few run-ins with the law yourself,” he said when we reached the lobby.
“Comes with the territory.”
“Does it?” He glanced at me as we made our way out of the building. “You realize Cross Security has rules and regulations in place to prevent that from happening. Yet, I recall coming to your assistance a time or two.”
“Do you have a point? I’m not the one staring down a murder rap. Cross should have obeyed his own rules.”
Almeada waited until we were inside the car before he said, “Lucien came up with those guidelines for a reason. When he started out, things didn’t always go his way. He learned a lot of tough lessons.”
“I know about the settlement, how Cross killed a cop to protect a young woman.”
“How?”
“Don’t worry. Cross didn’t violate the gag order. I ran into Jade McNamara in Las Vegas several months ago. She told James Martin what happened, and he told me.” Apparently, Cross hadn’t bothered to disclose this information to his attorney.
“I see. That’ll make the rest of this easier. You know Cross and the police have always had a tumultuous relationship. That’s never changed. In the past year, things have gotten better. I’m guessing you had something to do with that. That’s why word of Lucien’s arrest this morning came out of left field. I didn’t see it coming. I don’t think he did either.”
“I doubt anyone expected Trey Knox’s body to surface.”
“Good point.”
The news about the airport expansion had been announced months ago. Details on the new parking lot, along with maps and drawings, had been in the papers. Perhaps, Cross did have time to prepare for this. Had he gone to the airport to move the body and gotten caught?
“Why do you think the police arrested him?” I asked.
“When Knox disappeared, Lucien got bumped to the top of the suspect list. He was the only person they could place inside Knox’s house the day of his disappearance. Since they never had any other solid leads, Lucien remained their prime suspect.”
“Surely, they must have more to go on than that.”
“Cross had a forensic expert on his payroll at the time, and he’d also gone through the police academy. He had the knowledge and know-how necessary to pull off a nearly perfect murder. The police found a few drops of blood in Knox’s house and a broken shower door, but no other indications of a struggle or abduction. Knox’s car was parked at his place of business, but he never reported to work. Security cam footage saw someone walk away from the car. It could have been Lucien, but a positive ID couldn’t be made.”
“Still, that’s circumstantial,” I said. “Have they found the murder weapon?”
“Not that I’m aware.”
“Then none of this makes any sense. Just because Cross was the last person to see Knox alive, that doesn’t explain why the cops think he did it. Did an eyewitness place him at the scene? Do the police think the bullets will match his gun?” I couldn’t imagine that would be the case. “Don’t tell me Cross went to the airport to move the body.”
“Don’t be ridiculous
.”
I shrugged. “Y’never know.”
“The police have found a few things, which might appear flimsy on the outset, but when combined, add up to a convincing narrative. That’s why I need an investigator to find logical reasons to explain everything away and find out what actually happened to Trey Knox.”
“Does Cross have an alibi?”
“The murder took place too long ago. The police can’t pin it down to an exact time and date, which will make supplying an alibi difficult, if not impossible.”
“That will also make it harder for the prosecutor to make a case.”
“Theoretically.”
“What about the injuries Knox sustained? His missing molars and fingertips, do the police believe Cross did that?”
“Probably, since those are the steps one might take to commit the perfect murder.”
I didn’t buy it. “The police have something else. Something irrefutable. A smoking gun, so to speak.”
“If they do, they haven’t brought it up yet. Until they decide to use it against Lucien, they don’t have to tell me about it.” Almeada studied me from the corner of his eye. “Are you speculating, or do you know something I don’t?”
“All I know is what they have isn’t enough to charge him.”
“You’re probably right, which is why the police are running the clock while they collect more evidence and build their case.”
“Why won’t you loop Renner in? He can help.”
“If the circumstances were different, I would. But Renner worked the Knox disappearance, along with Lt. Moretti. I can’t have him working for me. It’ll muddy the waters and open up anything he finds to extreme scrutiny. I’m not giving the DA’s office a slam dunk case.”
“Is that why Cross hired Renner?”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. Did Cross hire Renner to insulate himself in the event Knox’s body surfaced?”
“You should ask Lucien that question?”
Seven
I slipped into the observation room, hoping no one would notice. The police were in a rush to get things underway. As soon as we entered the precinct, they brought us to the interrogation room. Cross was waiting inside. But I hung back, figuring I might learn more from the other side of the glass.
“Ma’am, you can’t be in here,” the tech said as he checked the recording equipment.
“I’m part of Lucien Cross’s counsel,” I said.
The tech plugged in the audio cables. “His attorney’s right there.”
“I didn’t say I was his attorney.”
The tech checked the monitor, making sure the green light was on. Then he tapped on the glass to let Lt. Moretti know he could get started with the interrogation. “The fun’s over. Let’s go, lady.” He grabbed my elbow and dragged me out of the room.
“Whoa.” Heathcliff almost collided with us. “What’s going on here?”
“This woman was trying to sit in on the interrogation.”
Heathcliff eyed me. “Is Moretti in there?”
“Yes, sir,” the tech said.
“All right. She can stay.”
“But, Detective—” the tech began.
“Save it. This is my case. My decision.” He looked past me at the two-way mirror. “My ass.”
The tech released his grip on my elbow. “Make sure the lieutenant knows that.”
“Will do.” Heathcliff slipped past us. “You coming, Parker?”
Satisfied, I slunk back into the room. After making sure the recording equipment was working, Heathcliff moved beside me, resting his shoulder and hip against the wall in order to keep an eye on me and the goings-on inside the interrogation.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Yep.”
Moretti sifted through the police file. “Let’s not waste any time, Mr. Cross. You and I have done this dance before.”
“It’s been years. Refresh my memory,” Cross said.
“Trey Knox, remember him?”
“Vaguely.”
Moretti nearly laughed. “Have there been that many?”
“That many what?” Cross asked. Almeada leaned forward a few inches, ready to intervene. But this wasn’t a court of law. The only real power the attorney had was to keep his client from incriminating himself.
“Clients.” Moretti’s eyebrows raised a quarter of an inch. “Did you think I was going to say victims?”
“That’s enough,” Almeada warned.
Moretti ignored the attorney, his focus on Cross. “Trey Knox was one of your clients. He hired you to work a recovery roughly eight years ago. Didn’t Detective Heathcliff go over these facts with you earlier today?”
“Did you?” I asked.
“I do my job, Parker.”
Cross used his cuffed hands to rub his chin. “That’s right. It must have slipped my mind. Low blood sugar. My breakfast was interrupted, and lunch, well, that was a joke.”
“Can I get you a sandwich? A salad? Chips?” Moretti asked.
“You could remove the cuffs to start,” Almeada said.
Moretti leaned over, unhooking the bracelets from Lucien’s wrists. “What else can I get for you?”
“I’d like you to cut the bullshit and let me go,” Cross said.
Almeada nudged him with his knee, but Cross’s expression didn’t shift. He wanted the police lieutenant to know just how annoyed he was.
Moretti slammed the folder closed. “Fine. I’ll cut to the chase. Did you murder Trey Knox?”
“Knox is dead?” Lucien asked, a smug expression on his face. The look made my insides ache. Again, he failed to deny the claim.
Heathcliff’s gaze remained glued to my face. “You think he did it.”
I swallowed. “Watch the interrogation.”
“I’ll learn more by watching you.”
“I don’t know anything.”
“Would you tell me if you did?”
I jerked my chin at the glass, just as Moretti said, “His remains were uncovered at a construction site.”
Lucien didn’t even flinch. “The bastard got what he deserved.”
“Why would you say that?” Moretti asked. “Eight years ago, when I questioned you about Knox’s disappearance, you thought he was a swell guy. Did something change?”
“Knox was a conniving son of a bitch. Your investigation into the man should have uncovered a few truths.”
“Really?”
Almeada leaned over to whisper in Cross’s ear.
“Your boss has a hell of a poker face,” Heathcliff said. “Yours, on the other hand, could use some work.”
“What do you want me to say?” I glanced at him before returning my focus to the interrogation. “Last night I offered you my help, but you shot me down.”
“You didn’t have to volunteer to help the other side,” Heathcliff said.
“I didn’t volunteer.”
“Either way, we’re working different sides of the street.”
“Derek, that was not my intent. We have the same goal in mind. We want to find a killer.”
“No, Parker, I want to put a killer behind bars. You want to protect him.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I said, unsure how true it was.
Almeada continued to whisper in Cross’s ear, acknowledging the subtle nods and headshakes. Finally, the attorney said, “This is harassment. You tried to pin Knox’s disappearance on my client eight years ago, but you didn’t have anything then. And as far as I can tell, you don’t have anything now. This is a waste of our time.”
“A lot’s changed in eight years. Now I have Knox’s body and plenty of evidence. Right now, your client still has a chance to come clean. If he tells me what happened, I’ll make sure mitigating circumstances are factored in. Things will go a lot easier on him, but only if he cooperates.”
“Fuck you,” Cross said.
Almeada nudged him again, a little harder this time. “I need time to confer with my client in private.
”
Moretti stared at Cross. “Do the smart thing. Do what your father would want you to do.”
Cross didn’t move, but his eyes burned with a hatred that I’d never seen before. Moretti had cracked the indifferent façade, even if Cross’s words had been far from apathetic. Moretti remained unfazed as he scooped up the file and headed for the door.
“Who’s Cross’s father?” I asked.
Heathcliff chuckled. “Like I said, you need to work on your poker face.”
“Derek, I’m serious. Who is he? What does he have to do with any of this?”
He narrowed his eyes, not believing that I didn’t possess that knowledge. But when his unwavering gaze was met by nothing but confusion, he said, “Police Commissioner Cross.”
I stumbled backward, glad the wall caught me because the news nearly knocked me over. “You’re joking.”
“Nope.”
The words didn’t compute. “What? How?”
“Forty years ago, a man and woman met, fell in love, and—”
“Shut up.” This situation was beyond screwed up. “Does the commissioner know his son’s been arrested?”
“I’m sure he does. But the mayor’s running for reelection. He’s promoting that whole crackdown on crime thing. Don’t you keep up with the news?”
“I try to avoid politics.”
Heathcliff snorted. “Good luck with that.”
“When I woke up this morning, I didn’t realize I’d be living in a soap opera.”
“It’s not a soap opera.” Lt. Moretti entered the room, unplugged the microphone, and turned off the camera to give Almeada and Cross their privacy. “You shouldn’t be here.” He stared at Heathcliff. “Did you let her in?”
“She wandered in on her own.”
“Remind me to talk to the desk sergeant about that.”
“Lieutenant, I’m here to help,” I said.
“Help who? According to what Almeada said, you’re working for him.”
“Technically,” I admitted.
He ran a hand over his face, elongating his jowls. “What can you tell me?”
“About what?”
“Knox. Cross. What went down between the two?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to talk to Cross yet.” I folded my arms over my chest and matched Moretti’s dead-eye stare. “Maybe after you let me speak to him, I’ll be able to answer that question.”