by G. K. Parks
He held the glare. “My father’s career police. I grew up around cops. I may have a friend or two, but if I tell you who they are, they won’t be my friends anymore.”
“I’m lovely. The life of the party. They won’t mind a quick meet and greet.”
“You’ll drag their names through the mud. You’ll tarnish their reputations. It’s best if you leave them alone. Find another way.”
“They can help you.”
“No.”
I still didn’t know if he was playing me. This could all be manufactured, background to feed into the theory his arrest was a frame job. “Did Knox tell you about the safe deposit box?”
He closed his eyes, fighting with himself over answering or telling me to fuck off. In the end, self-preservation kicked in, like I knew it would. “No. I had no idea it existed.”
“Who told you about the safe deposit box key?”
Returning to the bench, he sat down and bounced the ball against the wall, catching it on the return. “Sgt. Rostokowski gave me the ball. She knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep after the attack. She’s done this job for over thirty years. Don’t jeopardize her pension, or so help you. Watch what you say and who you say it to. This is a police station. It’s not safe for you to speak freely, not with me. Not with anyone.”
I stepped closer to the bars. “Do you have any other friends I should know about?”
“The sergeant will help you with whatever you want.”
“Okay.” I sighed. “Jade said she’d e-mail me a list of cops with a bone to pick with you. If your friend can’t help, a list of your enemies might.”
“Let it lie.” He threw the ball so hard it bounced off the wall, pinging back and forth until it finally lost momentum. Until today, I never feared Cross, but he’d never been this desperate. And desperate often led to terrible decisions. “Digging up the past is how I ended up in this situation.” His right eye twitched. “She’s finally free. I won’t let anything drag her back there, not even my life or my freedom. She’s been through enough. I’ve put her through enough. Jade is off limits. Is that clear?”
I ignored the question. “Cross Security has plenty of employees who believe in you. Loyal, dedicated, hardworking men and women who love their jobs and appreciate the second chance you’ve given them. But you didn’t ask any of them to work your case. Instead, you asked me. I want to know why.”
He laughed bitterly. “You’re the only one I trust.”
“That’s a lie. You don’t trust me. Try again.”
“No, Alex, that’s the truth. But more importantly, the police trust you. They’ll value your findings.”
I held up my palms. “All right.”
He picked up the ball, tossed it against the wall, and caught it. “Tell Almeada to stay close. Once the police finish cataloging whatever evidence they believe they’ve found, they’ll move me to central booking for processing. I’ll need him to make sure my arraignment is expedited.”
“Okay. Stay safe, boss.”
He snorted. “Easier said than done.” He didn’t turn to acknowledge me, but he no longer appeared to be planning an escape that required murdering every cop in the building. Instead, the wheels were turning in another direction. I just couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“Hey, Lucien, for what it’s worth, she loves you. The thought of anything happening to you scares her.”
“She shouldn’t be scared. I want her to feel safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Twenty-two
Sgt. Sara Rostokowski was the woman I encountered last night, the one who’d gone with Lucien to the hospital. According to her personnel record, she’d received several commendations. She was ten years past her required twenty for a full pension, which told me she loved her job. And from the things she’d said last night, she cared a great deal about my boss.
After thanking Detective Jacobs for helping me out on what I told him was my attempt to identify the sergeant who’d assisted me last night, I made my way to the empty desk across from Heathcliff’s and took a seat. He hadn’t returned yet, but he’d be back soon.
While I waited, I went over everything I knew about the man who attacked me. The threats told me the unsub connected to Knox’s murder. I just didn’t know how.
The condition of Knox’s body indicated his death had been brutal. But the unsub hadn’t been nearly as vicious. Maybe he’d mellowed in the last eight years, but that didn’t make sense either. Nothing did.
“Hey, Parker.” Heathcliff slid into his chair. “What are you still doing here?”
“I was just asking myself the same question. Did you get anything off the cameras?”
“No. The asshole got lucky. We didn’t get a look at his face. The techs are playing around with reflective surfaces, hoping the manipulations might yield better results, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.” Heathcliff checked for updates on his caseload.
“I wasn’t planning on it. Even if you find an angle that works, he still wore that stupid bandana. What about tracking his movements?”
“He got into a white sedan. The plates were masked, so we can’t find out who it’s registered to, but I assigned several officers to scrub DOT cams. We might find out where he went or where he came from. Either one could lead us to him.”
“Forgive me if I’m not that optimistic.”
“Neither am I.” He clicked a few keys, mesmerized by the data on the screen.
Scooting my chair closer, I leaned over so I could see the screen. “I have to wait for Almeada to finish speaking to Cross, so we can discuss the search warrant, unless you’d like to tell me what the cops found instead.”
“What else is on your itinerary?”
“Once Jablonsky’s done with Moretti and the guys over in internal affairs, he and I are going to lunch.”
“You mean you’re going to bash the department and gain access to information you aren’t supposed to possess?”
“Yes, but we’ll be eating steak while we do it.”
He scanned the screen, his forehead creasing as he read. “Then what?”
“Then I have something else to take care of.”
“Like what?” Normally, he wasn’t this inquisitive.
“It’s Wednesday. Our meeting’s tomorrow. Why do you care what I’m doing?”
“Quid pro quo?” He took a sip of coffee, waiting for me to nod. “Cross will be charged in a few hours. An unregistered weapon was found on Cross’s property, which is being tested and compared to the slugs we pulled from Knox’s body.”
“Unregistered?”
“It was hidden inside Cross’s vehicle. It’s the same caliber as the gun used to kill Knox. More than likely, it’s the murder weapon.”
“That’s a stretch.”
“No, it’s not. It’s an illegal firearm. Either way, Cross has some explaining to do.”
“Great,” I said sarcastically. “Where was it found?”
“Hidden in a compartment beneath the spare tire in the trunk.”
“Cross drives a Porsche. He doesn’t have a trunk with a spare tire.”
“Not that car.”
“He has another car?”
“Technically, it’s a sports utility vehicle.” He gave me an incredulous look, but before he could say anything, my phone chimed. Almeada was outside.
“I have to go.”
“Not yet. Where’s my quo?”
“You ever go to KC’s? It’s a cop bar.”
“I know. I’ve been a few times. It’s quiet and a little depressing, not really my scene. If I want to drink alone at a bar, I’ll go somewhere people don’t know me, so they won’t bother me. Or I’ll pick up a six-pack on my way home. Why do you ask?”
“I just thought it might be worth checking out. That’s what I’m doing later tonight.”
Heathcliff gave me a confused look. “Does this have something to do with our standing bi-weekly appointments?”
“Nope.” I climbed out of the chair,
trying not to wince.
“This conversation is not over.”
“I already told you everything you need to know.” I winked and headed down the stairs. As soon as I stepped foot outside, I spotted Almeada’s car parked in a reserved space. He waved me over, unlocking the doors as I approached.
Sliding into the front seat, I knew from the look on the attorney’s face things weren’t going well. “What did Cross say when you asked him about the bank?” I asked.
“He said he was there Monday afternoon. He had meetings with clients all day. One of them inquired about placing sensitive materials in a safe place and thought a bank vault would be the best idea. Cross went to a few banks to determine which one offered the most protection and superior insurance options.”
“How many banks did he visit?”
“Three.”
“Did you verify this?”
Almeada handed me the list. “That’s why I hired you.”
I read the names and the approximate times Cross said he’d visited. “This is bullshit. He went to that bank because he found out about Knox’s safe deposit box.” I studied the attorney. “What he tells you is confidential. Doesn’t that extend to me?”
“It does.”
“So why are you lying about this?”
“I’m not. That’s what Cross said.”
“Bullshit.”
“It doesn’t look like bullshit. It looks like a professional performed his duties to the fullest extent of his capabilities.”
“In other words, he’s covering his ass.” I knew Cross was paranoid about discussing his case and defense in the precinct, but this was insane.
Almeada disagreed, but since we were on a time crunch, he didn’t waste any more of our precious seconds arguing with me. “This morning’s search is catastrophic to our case. Have the police said anything to you?”
“Pretend they didn’t. What did they tell you?”
“They’re charging Lucien with Knox’s murder. They’re confident they found the murder weapon. It was concealed in a hidden compartment inside his SUV.”
“When did he get an SUV?”
“He bought it after he returned from his trip eight years ago.”
I didn’t say anything while the facts sunk in. After all, Cross couldn’t exactly transport a body inside a sports car. But was he stupid enough to forget where he stashed the murder weapon? “Who else has access to his SUV?”
“He keeps it parked at the office for use when security is of the utmost importance. Since it’s armored, it’s the ideal transport vehicle. Any of his employees could have accessed it.”
I thought about the vehicles I spotted every morning when I went to work. A few armored SUVs always remained in the corner. The navy blue one was parked in a designated spot—one of Cross’s spots. The logs would show who used the vehicle and when. But the facts were adding up to just one conclusion. Lucien Cross was a killer.
The man who attacked me threw a monkey wrench into the works, but he could be a distraction, possibly working for Cross, or just a cop with misplaced intentions. “Has Cross mentioned any of his contacts in the police department to you?” I asked.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Friends, acquaintances, anyone who would stick their neck out for him.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“What about Sgt. Rostokowski? Does that name ring any bells? She went with him to the hospital last night.”
Almeada shrugged. “Again, this would be the reason I hired you.”
“I understand that, but Cross refuses to cooperate, so I figured I’d ask you.”
“Give Justin a call. He’d know better than anyone.”
“You don’t think it’ll hurt Cross’s case?”
“At this point, I’m willing to risk it. The police have means and motive. If you think you’re on to something, explore away.”
I studied the attorney. Despite what he’d said, he’d hoped Cross would be released before charges were filed. “What’s our plan now?”
“I’ll request the police keep him isolated. The commissioner’s son getting shivved while in lockup wouldn’t play well in the press.”
Cross didn’t just have to worry about the asshole from last night. He had to worry about every criminal his father ever arrested. “They’ll kill him.”
Almeada inhaled sharply. “Let’s make sure no one has time to find out who he is or who his father is. The sooner the arraignment happens, the better. I’m nearly certain I can get him released on bail. After that, we’ll have access to the evidence. We’ll rip the case apart from there. I’ll try to get it kicked before it goes to trial, but if we go to trial, we’ll be prepared.”
“Even if he did it?”
“I told you to let me worry about that.” Almeada opened his car door. “Just find out as much as you can and bring the facts back to me. Whoever attacked Cross last night is probably a good place to start.”
“I agree. I’m just not sure Cross does.”
As I got out of the car, I wondered what Cross would do once he was released on bail. After our earlier exchange, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Hopefully, he’d calm down between now and then. When I left, he seemed a bit more hopeful than when I’d arrived. I just didn’t know if that was enough to keep the desperation at bay.
* * *
“Now that the police have the murder weapon, it’s game over.” Mark dabbed at the steak sauce that had fallen onto his tie. “I don’t care who Cross’s attorney is. There’s too much evidence against him.”
I stared at my plate, too anxious to eat. “What about the bastard who keyed my car and used me as a garbage dump? What does Moretti have to say about him?”
“Not much, I’m afraid.” Mark took a roll out of the basket and buttered it. “Internal affairs is looking into the matter. Cross has a reputation. Half the department reveres him. The other half wants him in the ground.”
“That’s what Almeada said. Do we know why?”
“Everyone has a different answer. Did you know Cross wanted to be a cop? He went through academy training but flunked out right before graduation. Apparently, he had issues with one of his instructors. Something about violating common practices. Cross followed the chain of command and went to the sergeant. When that didn’t work, he went above the guy’s head, but no one listened. Eventually, Cross went to his dad, who told him not to question authority. The next thing you know, Cross fails an exam and gets booted from the program. That’s probably when the bad blood first started.”
“It got worse when Cross went up against Jade’s abusive ex-boyfriend, who happened to be a police sergeant.”
“Look, I’m the farthest thing from a fan of Lucien Cross. The smug bastard doesn’t listen to anyone and is driven by the bottom line. He makes stupid mistakes that are going to get people killed. I didn’t like him when we first met at that symposium several years ago, and I still don’t like him. But I wouldn’t destroy his life over it.”
“You think someone in the police department’s trying to do that?”
Mark finished his roll and tossed his napkin onto his plate. “They are rushing this case ahead. Moretti’s got this thing fast-tracked, but that’s only because he’s getting pressure from on high.”
“The commissioner?”
“That’d be my guess. Commissioner Cross has been taking a lot of flak lately. The mayor’s adamant about equal treatment under the law and fairly administering justice. Officially, the commissioner has recused himself from this case, but it’s still too scandalous. From what I can tell, he wants it solved as quickly as possible. Knox was killed eight years ago. It’s a cold case. The remains should have been left on a slab in the morgue for a few weeks before DNA even came back. But some schmuck points out the ring, gets major crimes involved, and makes sure Moretti knows about it. That was orchestrated.”
“It doesn’t hurt that the former commissioner’s son is the prime suspect and the case was
never solved under dear, old dad’s watch.” I swallowed. “At the risk of piling on, you should know Cross went to the bank Monday afternoon. He claims it was for a client, but…”
“You think he tried to break into Knox’s safe deposit box and steal the evidence.”
“The thought may have crossed my mind.”
“How’d he know about the box?”
“He won’t say, but when I asked about the cops he knows, he got defensive.”
“One of them must have tipped him off.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. I plan to drop by this cop bar Jade told me about. She said the guy who owns the place worked with Cross’s dad and cares a great deal about Lucien. He might be able to tell me something. If not, I’ll swing by the precinct and speak to Sgt. Rostokowski since she’s pulling graveyard this week.”
“Do you think she requested that shift just so she could keep an eye on Cross?”
“You mean to keep him safe?”
“Maybe.” Mark’s phone rang. “Hold that thought.” He checked the display before answering. I listened in on his end of the conversation. From what I could tell, Agent Lawson and several other FBI techs finished examining my car. They didn’t find any tracking devices, fingerprints, or other evidence that would point them to the man who attacked me. “What about surveillance footage?” Mark paused. “Yeah, that’s the same thing the police said. Just keep at it, and let me know. I want to know where that white sedan went.” He chuckled. “She’s pissed off, but what else is new?”
When he hung up, I asked, “Was that about me?”
“Of course. Who else do I know who’s always pissed off?”
“Besides you?”
“Touché.” He sobered. “I have no idea who this asshole is who attacked you, but he’s clever enough not to get caught.”
“If he tries something again, I’ll be prepared.” No more insane workouts would get in my way, but the bruises might be another story. Stabbing a piece of steak, I popped it into my mouth and chewed. “What do you think? Did Cross kill Knox?”