In a Split Second

by Timothy Glass

  Connor walked around their desks and took the box of cheese treats from Sundae. He handed them to Kate before heading toward the door.

  “Too bad we’re not looking for a food bandit,” Kate said, petting Sundae, who got up and quickly followed Connor. “Don’t forget, you need to call that reporter from the Morning Times.”

  From the doorway, Connor waved as if dismissing what she had just said about the reporter.

  After Kate watched Connor and Sundae leave, she peered into the bottom of the desk drawer. She removed a yellow tablet from the bottom and stared at a photo of herself in a wedding dress and her ex-husband in a tux. She pulled the photo from the drawer and held it over her trashcan.

  “File this under happier times,” she whispered.

  Kate watched the photo spin and slowly drop into the trashcan. Deep in thought, she remembered that things had been great between them…until she graduated from the academy. Her long hours, weekends, nights, and overtime had quickly taken their toll...as had the other woman with whom Kate had later found her husband. Plus, there were the comments he had made shortly after she graduated from the academy – comments about hating the fact that she was a cop.

  Eventually, they both found that friendly get-togethers with long-time friends were no longer fun. Kate blamed herself. She could no longer relate to their friends, especially the females. They talked about their days at work, business meetings, and lunches. It all seemed mundane when Kate spent her days meeting people at their worst. How on earth could one compare their nine-to-five office jobs to chasing a punk through the streets? Added to the equation was the fact that many of the things Kate did for work were confidential. She simply couldn’t discuss them with anyone but another officer.

  A fight in the booking room across the hall interrupted her thoughts of the past. Kate straightened up her desk for the night, locked her files in the filing cabinet, and headed for the door.

  Chapter 8

  Kate heard the elevator car approaching the third floor. Before the shiny steel doors opened, a ding sounded. Kate looked up, her phone pressed against her shoulder and ear as she wrote on her note pad. Connor and Sundae stepped off the elevator.

  Sundae ran to Kate’s side, nudged her, then sat looking expectantly up at her. Kate quickly closed her drawer so Sundae couldn’t get into the cheese treats. Then Kate set down her ballpoint pen and gently massaged Sundae’s shoulders. She hung up the phone.

  “I missed you at the gym last night,” Connor said.

  “I took a hot bath, curled up on the couch with a cup of tea, and read a book. I fell asleep,” Kate said, smiling, tilting her head to one side.

  “Coming down with something?”

  “No, just didn’t feel like going.”

  Connor took off his sport coat and loosened his necktie before sitting at his desk.

  “Before you get too busy there, that was Bud Hampton’s father I was talking to. He and Mrs. Hampton would like to meet with us to discuss what we’re doing on their son’s case. Their flight just got in and they wanted to get something to eat at the airport. I told him we’d meet them at Dottie’s.”

  “Did you happen to mention to them that we really don’t have anything yet?”

  “Just put your coat back on; let’s go catch a flight,” Kate said, standing.

  “I wish I were catching a flight.”

  “Where would you go?” Kate asked with a smile.

  Connor dismissed her question. He didn’t want to bring up memories of his broken personal life, marriage, and divorce. Nevertheless, if there was one thing Connor disliked most about his job, it was dealing with the families and friends of the victims. He knew they hurt. They all wanted answers right away, which almost never happened unless you were lucky enough to come across the guy with the smoking gun at the crime scene. It typically took months and sometimes years after he started working a case before he learned the who and the why – and that was if he was lucky. After the trial ended and the judge’s gavel dropped for the last time, the result was the same. The victim was still dead and never coming back to their family. The void left by the victim’s death would never go away, nor would the pain. Some said that catching the person or persons who caused the harm helped create closure. Yet all too often, families were never the same.

  A crime such as the murder of Bud Hampton was like an enormous puzzle with pieces jutting off in this direction and that. In time, a good detective could lay out the entire puzzle with each piece carefully put in its place. However, one piece of the puzzle was always missing. Try as you might to appreciate the work and dedication of this magnificent puzzle on which you worked for month or years, your eye was always drawn to the gaping hole where the missing piece should have been. Nevertheless, it was their job to offer comfort in what they were doing to find the killer.

  “What kind of monster would do this type of thing?” Mrs. Hampton asked, dabbing at her deep blue eyes with a tissue. Her face looked tired, as if she had not slept in days and her body was running only on adrenaline. “I simply do not understand who could come into someone’s house and kill them in their sleep.”

  Connor and Kate let Mrs. Hampton vent. They knew this was part of the grieving process, especially when a loved one was lost in such a manner.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Hampton, can you think of anyone who would want to harm your son?” Connor asked.

  “No one, Detective Maxwell.” Mr. Hampton leaned forward, putting both elbows on the table and looking at Connor. His eyes were red.

  “Detectives, I know you must hear this a million times in your line of work but Bud was a good man.” Mrs. Hampton opened her purse and pulled out photographs of their son. She laid them on the table. One photo showed Bud and Ellie with their arms wrapped around each other. The other was of Bud in a graduation cap and grown. A third photo was of Bud as a teenager in a baseball uniform. Mr. and Mrs. Hampton looked at the photos for a few moments.

  Mr. Hampton cleared his throat, then finished answering the detectives’ questions.

  “Bud went to the university after high school. When he graduated from the university, he worked at the hospital. As far as we know, he never knew anyone who would do such a heinous thing.”

  “What did your son do at the hospital?” Kate asked.

  “He worked in the IT department.”

  “Was he in charge of the hiring or firing in that department?”

  “No, he was a programmer who worked on proprietary software the hospital used. As far as we know, he never really interfaced with the employees. He answered only to his boss.”

  “And that was?” Connor asked.

  “Oh, what was her name?” Mrs. Hampton looked at her husband.

  “Pam. She’s the director of the department,” Mr. Hampton said.

  “Do you have Pam’s last name?” Connor asked.

  “James. Pam James heads the department that Bud works…I mean used to work in.” Mr. Hampton corrected himself as so many families did after the death of a loved one.

  Connor jotted down the information. “Do either of you know if Bud and Ellie were having problems?”

  Tears rolled down Mrs. Hampton’s cheeks. “No, they both seemed very happy.” She dabbed at her tears. “We thought they would get married someday.”

  “Did Bud ever mention any issues with Ellie’s ex-husband or any other men in Ellie’s life?”

  “No, not that I can recall,” Mrs. Hampton said.

  Connor pulled out a business card, as did Kate. They passed the cards to the Hamptons.

  “If you think of anything, please don’t hesitate to give us a call,” Kate said as she hugged Mrs. Hampton around the shoulders.

  Chapter 9

  The three detectives – Connor, Kate, and Sundae – entered the police department through a door marked “authorized personnel only” in large red block letters. As they neared the dispatcher’s desk, they could hear the sounds of radio transmissions. The young dispatcher brushed a lock of aubur
n hair behind her ear as she looked up from her dispatch log.

  “Detectives, a deputy, David Smith, from the Natick County Sheriff’s Department wants you to call him ASAP,” the dispatcher said as she passed a folded piece of paper to Connor.

  “Thanks,” Connor said. He, Kate, and Sundae walked back to their desks.

  “What is it?” Kate inquired as she unlocked the old gray metal file cabinet, removed a file folder, and sat at her desk.

  “Not sure, just wants us to call.”

  “Maybe we’ve been invited to the Sheriff’s Department Ball.” Kate smiled at Connor.

  Connor laughed. “Sheriffs don’t have balls.”

  Kate laughed. “Good one.”

  Connor dialed the number that was handwritten on the paper. Kate looked over a stack of files. She half-listened to a one-way conversation between Connor and the deputy. Kate quickly looked up when she heard the name Brad Hopper. Connor hung up the phone and stood.

  “Let’s go.”

  He and Sundae were already at the elevator door before Kate had time to lock the files in the cabinet.

  “Where are we going?”

  The elevator arrived, and Connor held the door for Kate and Sundae.

  “Highway 10. A couple of kids found some things belonging to Brad Hopper in the brush. When our dispatcher overheard his name, she requested more information from the deputy.”

  Deputy David Smith showed Connor and Kate a man’s red coat along with a keycard that had Brad Hopper’s name and photo on it.

  “The teenagers found this over there,” the deputy said, pointing to a stretch of Highway 10. Sundae sat beside Connor’s left leg, her gold shield gleaming in the mid-morning sunshine.

  “It was like someone tossed it out of a moving car,” Deputy Smith continued. “When I called it in, your dispatcher heard the name I gave on the keycard. We had several deputies do a search for anything else, as she said this was a person of interest in a homicide case you’re working.”

  Connor bent down and held the coat and keycard for Sundae to sniff, then gave her the command to search.

  “Work,” Connor said.

  Sundae ran off, sniffing through the grass and brush in a zigzag pattern. At times, all they could see was the tip of her white tail.

  “I can assure you, we did a complete search of this area, Detective.”

  Connor held the keycard in his gloved hand. He turned it over, looking at it. Kate and Connor looked up when they heard Sundae howling off in the distance. The three walked over and found Sundae sitting in front of a plastic card lying on its side deep in the tall grass.

  “Release,” Connor said to Sundae. He reached for the card and turned to Kate. “Gym membership keycard for Brad Hopper.”

  “I guess we need to pay another visit to Mr. Hopper.”

  Sundae sniffed around the area until Connor called her back to their unmarked car.

  “Mr. Hopper, today a deputy from the Natick County Sheriff’s Department found a red coat, a security keycard, and a gym membership card discarded along the side of Highway 10. This in itself would not be an issue, but given the fact that we’re investigating a homicide a few miles from where these items were found, I thought we would pay you a visit.”

  Brad’s face flushed as he hesitated for a moment.

  “I forgot to lock my car at the grocery store. When I came out, my red coat was missing.”

  “Did you file a police report?” Kate asked.

  “No, I reported at work that the card had been taken. They deactivated the code on my card and issued me another one.”

  “I assume we can get a date when they deactivated the card. Surely your company keeps records.”

  “Yes, of course,” Brad said, his voice a little shaky.

  “Would you request those records, please?” Kate asked.

  Brad picked up the phone and requested the records on his missing keycard.

  “A coat that expensive...I assume you reported it stolen to your insurance company,” Connor said

  “No, I…told you, I just replaced my keycard here at work.”

  “What about your gym card?” Connor asked.

  Brad looked down at his desk. He had never been in trouble with the law in his life. However, he had watched enough TV to know where this type of questioning was going. It appeared to be heading down a very slippery slope.

  “No, I was going to but didn’t have the time.” Brad sounded defensive as he answered their questions. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “I think I should call my attorney.”

  Chapter 10

  The elevator chimed as the door opened and Beth Ellis stepped out. Connor looked up, smiled, and strolled over to greet her, with Sundae close behind. Beth gave Connor a big hug, then bent down to pet Sundae.

  “I see you still have your faithful partner by your side,” Beth said with a smile.

  “What can I say? She just can’t get enough of me,” Connor said, scratching Sundae’s ears.

  Kate looked the woman over, discreetly sizing her up. Beth wore an expensive midnight blue business suit with matching heels that accentuated her tall, slender figure. A delicate gold pendant and chain hung from around her neck. Not something Kate could ever think of wearing as a detective. Kate figured that Beth was about her own age, which was thirty. Beth’s dark, elegantly styled hair framed her flawless face. Not even a laugh line by her eyes. Kate supposed that Beth was either a Botox queen or belonged to the Wrinkle Cream of the Month club. Was it really possible for someone to have that perfect of a complexion? Maybe she, too, should look into some facial creams. Kate had only a few laugh lines around her eyes. She made a mental note to check out some creams this weekend if she had time. She wondered what brand Beth used.

  Connor had told Kate that he had worked with Beth when he was with another police department years ago. Beth had a Ph.D. as a psychologist, but specialized in profiling killers. Connor felt Beth might be able to help them on the Hampton case.

  After the exchange of a few niceties, Connor brought Beth over to meet Kate. Upon closer inspection, Kate thought that Beth looked like she belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine. The woman really looked out of place in a stuffy police department, never mind profiling a killer. Two uniformed patrolmen took notice of Beth as they walked to the elevator. They stopped and lingered at the elevator door before pressing the down button. Kate wondered if any of the guys at the PD admired her that way. After all, thanks to all her Zumba classes, Kate’s body was well-toned, with not an ounce of flab. Her auburn hair was its natural color, and she had it cut once a month by a guy named Enrico, who worked downtown. When Kate had attended state college, girls and guys alike had commented on her green eyes.

  The sound of Beth’s voice brought Kate out of her musings.

  “I looked over what you sent me,” Beth said, looking at the detectives. “The ME said Bud Hampton was shot at close range, execution-style.”

  Connor pulled a chair up for Beth to sit on.

  “Any large outstanding debts the victim owed, drug or gambling issues?” Beth asked, pulling a yellow legal tablet and pen from her briefcase and crossing her legs.

  “No, both the vic and the girlfriend were clean of drugs. So was the house. Bank records showed he worked at the local hospital as a computer programmer. There were direct deposits from the hospital, nothing more. The house and furnishings matched his salary, as did the car he drove. They were living within their means,” Connor said.

  “Any large withdrawals, maybe to pay off gambling debts?”

  “Nothing,” Kate said.

  Beth sat for a minute, thinking, tapping the end of her pen on the tablet.

  “My thoughts are that this is a crime of hate and anger. The crime scene simply doesn’t render a home invasion or robbery. May I ask what religion Mr. Hampton was?”

  Kate looked through her file. “His funeral will be at the Westside Presbyterian Church.”

  “That doesn’t fit the usual p
attern for a hate crime,” Beth said, jotting a note on her tablet.

  “I go back to anger, then,” Kate said, looking at her file and jotting down a few notes.

  Connor stood at the white board. “We have several persons of interest.” He pointed to Brad Hopper’s photo. “He was an ex-boyfriend of the girlfriend. They had lived together for several years, but the girlfriend said the breakup was mutual. His name is Brad Hopper. He has a good job and is engaged to be married this spring. He was out of town at the time of the murder, and he has records to prove it. You know, the usual things … hotel and restaurant receipts.”

  “Records can lie,” Kate said.

  “We’re still waiting for the hotel camera images to be enhanced. The security personnel didn’t see him on any of the images, nor did we see him at first glance. But we need to go over them again. Seems the lobby camera lens wasn’t in the best shape.”

  Beth looked at the board. “I assume you talked to Brad’s fiancée to see if they have any issues, any cold feet or longing to go back to his ex-girlfriend?”

  “We did. The wedding is set for spring. We also talked with Brad’s friends. By the looks of everything, he’s clearly moving on with his life. But…”

  Connor walked back to his desk, picked up an evidence sheet, and handed it to Beth.

  “We were called by a deputy David Smith from the Natick County Sherriff Department. It seems that a few days ago, two teenagers were walking along Highway 10 when they found things that had been discarded by the roadside. The first item was a red coat, men’s size large. The second item was a keycard. The third item Sundae found; it was a gym membership card. The IDs all had Brad Hopper’s photo and name on them. Added to this equation is the fact that Brad doesn’t live in Lakewood. He lives about sixty minutes north of here. However, the items were found three miles from the Hampton crime scene.” Connor sat down.

  Beth jotted another note on her tablet.