In a Split Second

by Timothy Glass

  Several police cars were parked close to the building. John drove through the lot, looking for a parking spot. He found the parking places reserved for visitors and pulled his truck into one. As he reached to turn off the ignition, he saw a police car pull into the parking lot close to the building. The officer exited the car, then reached for the handle on the back door. John watched as the prisoner in the backseat kicked the door, striking the policeman in the thighs. The door hit the officer with such force that the policeman fell over. The prisoner bolted from the car, sprinting across the lawn, still in handcuffs. The officer stood and, with a limp, ran after the prisoner.

  John quickly shifted his truck into reverse and gunned it toward the other side of the parking lot. Once there, he shifted the truck into park and threw the door open. Jumping out of the truck, he ran after the prisoner and tackled the cuffed man much like he had done with fellow football players in high school.

  “Thank you…?” the officer said, out of breath as he approached.

  “John. John Edwards, sir.”

  “Where did you come from?”

  “I had just pulled in.” John motioned to the other side of the police department building. “I was about to go in when I saw him knock you over and take off across the lawn.” John stood and brushed the grass off his blue jeans.

  “Ever think about joining the police force?”

  “No, sir,” John answered as he watched the officer lift the prisoner to his feet.

  “You’re a natural, kid. Most people would have been afraid to get involved.” Reaching into his shirt pocket, the officer handed John his card. “Call me sometime. I’ll buy you a coffee and we can talk some more.”

  John got back into his truck. Mary’s words replayed in his mind as he pulled out onto 2nd Street and left the police department. He wanted to report what they had seen several nights ago and had every intention of doing so. That was until the prisoner almost got away. He thought more about what his dad said about prisoners. They always seemed to get out of jail, one way or another. Maybe he needed more time to think this over.

  That evening, John reached into his pocket and found the business card. On it were Officer Randy Simon’s name and a phone number. John pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number.

  “Lakewood Police Department, may I help you?”

  John hesitated for a second. “Ah … I’d like to speak to Officer Randy … Simon, please?”

  “Is this an emergency?”

  “No, I just wanted to speak to him.”

  “Your name and a number where he can reach you?”

  John quickly gave the woman his name and cell phone number. Randy called back. Under the pretense of being interested in becoming a police officer, John met him at a chain coffee house. Randy gave John the rundown of joining the Lakewood Police Department. As they were about to leave, John sat back down.

  “Officer Simon, my wanting to talk to you ... this wasn’t about becoming a police officer.”

  Officer Simon sat back down with a confused look on his face.

  “I wasn’t at the police department today to pay a parking ticket like I told you,” John said.

  Officer Simon studied John’s face.

  “I was…” John looked away, then back at Officer Simon. “The other night, my girlfriend and I snuck out of our houses after hours.”

  “John, that’s hardly a crime. That’s more your parents’ issue to deal with.”

  “I know. It isn’t the fact that we snuck out of the house. We were parked out along Highway 10. I had bought a ring and was going to ask her to marry me.”

  “Okay.” Officer Simon waited, wondering what on earth was eating this young man who had come to his aid that morning. He seemed like a good kid.

  “We were parked there for maybe a few minutes when a car pulled off the side of the highway.” John took a sip of his latte. “The person turned off his lights, got out of his car, and pulled two large bags out of the trunk.”

  “You said ‘his.’ Do you know for sure this was a male?”

  “When the trunk light came on, the figure looked like a male.”

  “Did you or your girlfriend recognize him?”

  “No, not at all. Mary ... she’s my girlfriend ... was really scared and wanted to go home as soon as he left.”

  Officer Simon pulled a small pad of paper from his chest pocket and wrote down everything John told him.

  “Did the guy leave right away?”

  “Yes. As soon as he dragged the second bag into the brush, he pulled back out with his lights off until he was back on the highway.”

  “Do you know what he dumped?”

  “No. Mary wanted to leave right away. I never even had the chance to ask her to marry me.”

  “Could you take me to the place where you were parked?”

  “Sure. I think I can find it again.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 21

  Connor and Kate, along with Sundae, walked down the hallway toward the back door. A city maintenance worker swabbed the floor with his mop. He never looked up at the three of them. The old round clock on the wall read 4:15.

  “Can I expect to see you at the gym tonight?” Kate smiled at Connor.

  Sundae trotted ahead to pay her routine visit to the police dispatcher before she and Connor left for the night. The back-and-forth chatter of radio transmissions between officers of the Lakewood Police Department echoed throughout the hallway.

  “Well, hello there, Ms. Sundae! Are you getting ready to go home for the day?” The dispatcher, Sandy Curtis, rubbed Sundae’s soft, long ears. Sundae sniffed around Sandy’s desk, looking for treats.

  Sandy Curtis was a pleasant, heavyset woman with curly gray hair and silver-rimmed glasses. She was considered the department “grandmother” because she often baked cookies and other treats for her co-workers. She had an especially soft spot for Sundae.

  “I know what you’re looking for.”

  Sandy reached into the overstuffed bottom drawer of her desk, making a personal note to someday clean out that drawer. Once she felt the treat bag, she pulled it out. Sundae sat and looked up expectantly.

  “Don’t you tell your daddy about this. He has this crazy notion that you’re not to accept treats from me,” Sandy said as she pulled out a treat. Petting Sundae with one hand, she held out the treat with the other. “Just plain rubbish, I say. I bet you feel the same way.”

  Connor and Kate walked up to the dispatch desk.

  “Are you bribing an officer of the Lakewood Police Department?” Connor asked as Sundae swallowed her treat.

  Sandy put the green bag of dog treats back in her drawer. “Would I do that?” The dispatcher gave Connor an innocent look.

  “You’re going to ruin her for duty, you know that?” Connor smiled. “Not to mention her figure.”

  Sundae ran to Connor’s side.

  “You three have a good night.”

  Kate looked over her shoulder at the dispatcher. Sandy winked as she hit the buzzer under her desk, allowing them to open the door to the parking lot. She watched as the steel door closed and locked behind Connor, Kate, and Sundae.

  “27 PD, I’ll be 10-6 with a male passenger, John Edwards. We’ll be checking out a suspicious dumping he witnessed on Highway 10. If there’s anything out there, I’ll need you to dispatch county,” Randy said.

  “10-4,” replied the dispatcher. She opened her desk drawer to clean it up. Then, shaking her head, she closed it.

  Randy replaced the mic and turned to John. “Okay. Whereabouts on Highway 10?”

  “Do you know the curve all the kids call ‘Dead Man’s Curve’?”

  Randy smiled at John and focused his attention on the traffic. “That curve has been called that for years. If memory serves me right, I think it was around 1950 that it got its name,” he said.

  Within 15 minutes, John was pointing to a path of tire tracks cutting through the dried grass that disappeared into the brush
. Officer Simon pulled his car off the highway and called in his location to dispatch. He and John got out.

  “We were up there, beyond the little bluff, that night.” John pointed. “The car pulled off maybe a little farther than you did. Then he got out. He pulled each bag out one at a time and carried them off in that direction.” John turned and pointed toward a densely covered area of brush, due south of the bluff on which he and Mary had parked that night.

  Randy and John walked in the direction John had indicated. They were careful to not disturb any tracks. Before long, the two men were in a section of brush so tall that it rose over their heads. The brush was so thick, they had trouble going any farther.

  Randy stopped and radioed dispatch. “27 PD, are Detective Maxwell and his canine still on duty?”

  “No, but they’re on call. Do you need me to dispatch them to the area?”

  “It may be nothing, but I think Maxwell’s dog would be able to find anything in this thick brush better than a human could. County doesn’t have a canine, so ask Detective Maxwell if he would mind bringing her out here.”

  Officer Simon turned to John. “You’re sure this is where you saw him go?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I guess animals could have dragged the bags off. Did they look heavy, like the guy was straining to carry them?” Randy asked.

  “He was tall, about six feet, and had a medium build. I remember he had one hand at the top and the other supporting the bottom. That’s all I can tell you,” John said, looking around.

  Several minutes later, Connor and Sundae pulled up alongside Officer Simon’s car. Officer Simon brought Connor up to date on why they were out there. Meanwhile, Sundae ran in a zigzag pattern, sniffing the ground. She ran into the thick brush. For a moment, only the white tip of her tail was visible. Then that, too, was out of sight.

  “You know this is really the county’s jurisdiction, right?” Connor said.

  “The tip came into me. I’m simply following up on the tip,” Randy said.

  As the evening sky faded, Sundae began to bay. The three men walked in her direction just as Kate’s unmarked unit rolled to a stop.

  “I heard the call. What do we have?” she called out.

  “This young man witnessed someone dumping two large bags out here several nights ago.”

  Kate looked over the terrain. “Wasn’t this where we helped county with that wreck the other day? When Sundae ran off into the bushes baying and you thought…”

  At that, Connor led the four into the brush, where Sundae sat in front of a large thirty-nine-gallon trash bag.

  “Release,” Connor said to Sundae as she continued searching the area.

  Connor and Kate each fished a pair of gloves out of their pockets. Then they bent down and untied the bag.

  The first item Connor retrieved was a loaded clip from a Glock 9mm. Next was the ID containing Brad Hopper’s name and another person’s photo.

  “This must’ve been the one the guy gave to Mr. Jenkins, the gun dealer.”

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Kate asked as she looked at Connor.

  Connor pulled a black ski mask out of the bag. Kate took out a penlight and studied the ID.

  “This photo is much clearer than the copies we saw. This really looks like Jeff Gilbert.”

  “Maybe the two were working together?”

  “Or maybe Jeff and Ellie were working together,” Kate said.

  “Call dispatch and have them get our CIS team out here. I’ll need a complete statement from John as to time, date, what he saw, any description of the car and the person he saw,” Connor said to Simon.

  “Do you want county dispatched?”

  “No. I think this may be linked to the Hampton homicide we’re working.”

  John swallowed hard; the word “homicide” played over and over in his head. For a second, he felt dizzy, like his legs would give out on him. Mary had told him not to get involved, as she feared that the person would come after them.

  John’s thoughts were silenced when Sundae began baying again.

  Connor pulled several branches back, allowing Kate and him to walk about ten feet beyond where the first bag lay. They found another black thirty-nine-gallon bag. This one was torn open. Kate could clearly see two shoe covers, like those found at Brad’s house. She also saw a cowboy hat.

  Chapter 22

  Beth stood, staring silently at the objects on the large table in front of her. Each object had been used in the act of murder. Her mind pictured how each object had been used to either prepare for the crime or to actually commit it. She couldn’t explain why her mind worked differently from the minds of the other profilers she’d worked with in the past. She didn’t know how she was able to picture objects being used. Sometimes this ability was a gift. Other times it was a curse – one that haunted her when she and the law enforcement agencies couldn’t catch the perp and put the scum behind bars.

  She wore latex gloves, as did Connor and Kate.

  “CSI is checking everything for prints and DNA,” Kate said.

  “There won’t be any,” Beth said without even a glance in Kate’s direction.

  Kate looked over at Connor and mouthed the words, “How would she know that?” She shrugged.

  The table held the contents of the two black trash bags that had been recovered. Connor and Kate, as well as the CSI team, had already examined and cataloged each item. They had called in Mr. Jenkins, the gun dealer, who had sold the Glock 9mm on the day of the gun show. Mr. Jenkins had arrived earlier that morning and said that the cowboy hat was just like the one worn by the man who had purchased the Glock 9mm. He indicated that the extra ammo clips looked to be the same ones he had included with the gun sale. The ammunition also matched the ammo used in the Hampton case.

  Kate called in the department sketch artist and asked him to create a composite sketch of Jeff Gilberts wearing the cowboy hat they’d found. Mr. Jenkins said that the man who had purchased the gun had worn the hat with its brim pulled slightly down, covering a portion of his face. Upon seeing the sketch, the gun dealer positively identified Jeff Gilberts – not Brad Hopper – as the man to whom he’d sold the gun. Connor and Kate wanted to make sure they’d dotted every I and crossed every T before going to the DA.

  Detectives Bob Barton and Grant Harris had come by earlier. Other than the fact that the handgun was the same caliber, nothing matched their Jefferson case, including the extra ammo.

  Beth reached across the table and picked up the black ski mask. “Expensive brand,” she said. “Most perps would buy something cheap, knowing they’d be discarding it after they’d used it.”

  Beth asked for the file that Connor held in his hand. She thumbed through it, then stopped at Jeff Gilbert’s photo. She looked back at the ski mask.

  “Refresh my memory. When did Gilbert and the girlfriend break up?”

  “Almost a year ago, but the odd thing is, they went out only a couple of times,” Kate said.

  “Define ‘a couple of times’. Were they intimate? Did they live together?”

  “No, they didn’t live with one another. She told us they were very casual. Actually, she and Brad broke it off. She dated Jeff Gilbert a few times, then moved on. But she and Brad lived together at that time; they just weren’t a couple any longer. They dated other people.”

  “Brad was okay with that? Did you search Jeff Gilbert’s home?”

  “No. We focused on Brad first,” Kate said. “We wondered whether Jeff and Brad, or even Ellie, could have been in on this together.”

  “Any life insurance?”

  “Yes, but the policy was never changed from Hampton’s mother to the girlfriend,” Connor said. “Nor was the girlfriend aware of any life insurance. Anyway that’s what she said.” Connor stood next to Kate, watching Beth.

  “He manipulated both of you. This was his plan from the beginning,” Beth said.

  “What…” Kate had enough of Beth and started to cut her off.
Connor reached for her shoulder to stop her.

  Beth sat down and looked at Connor and Kate.

  “The killer wants anyone and everyone in Ellie’s life out of the way. This way, in his deranged mind, she will come back to him and only him,” Beth said.

  She stood back up and turned to the table as if in a trance.

  “He’s a person of privilege. He isn’t used to hearing the words ‘no’ or ‘wait.’ Does that fit Jeff Gilbert’s profile?” Beth asked.

  “I asked him to come in for questioning. He’s coming in tomorrow, if you’d like to listen in.”

  “I’ll pass. I have to be in court. If you don’t need me anymore, I’ll be going. I have to prepare for tomorrow,” Beth said.

  Connor turned back to his desk and quickly glanced at the Hampton file.

  “Do you buy into the business that after a few dates, this guy could want everyone out of this woman’s life? Why didn’t he kill Brad…unless the two were in on it together,” Connor said. He dialed a number on the phone. As it started ringing, he put the phone on speaker. Connor held up his hand to Kate, indicating that she shouldn’t answer his question.

  The ringing stopped when they heard Jeff Gilbert’s voice in the form of a message. Connor left his name and call-back number, then disconnected.

  “You were about to say?” Connor asked Kate.

  “If Jeff killed Bud Hampton and framed Brad, the two of them would be out of the picture,” Kate said.

  “True.” Connor sat and thought for a second. He nodded. “Let’s grab some lunch.”

  Kate smiled at Connor. She stood and grabbed both of their files, locking them in the filing cabinet.

  “So, what’s it going to be today? Italian or Mexican? My treat,” Connor said.

  Chapter 23

  The gym was crowded. Kate practiced her kickboxing while she watched the front door out of the corner of her eye, looking for Connor. Just after 6 p.m., Connor pulled the gym door open. Kate smiled. The man looked sexy, even in old sweats and a t-shirt. No matter what he did with his hair, an unruly dark lock curled on his forehead.