“What about ballistics?” Ed asked.
“9-millimeter, I’ve sent it over for examination, you should be hearing from them.”
“Probably knew his attacker,” Ed said.
“Like I told you at the scene. He’d been moved,” Max said.
“Any other illnesses or suspicious marks?” Paul asked.
“No. Look at him, other than his drinking, he’s a perfect specimen.”
Max was right, as Devin lay there on the table, covered only by a towel across his hips, his fit twenty-four-year-old body was a marvel.
“What about sex?” Ed asked.
“No evidence of sexual assault, but I won’t get my labs back until later.”
Leaving the morgue, Paul said, “Different MOs.”
“I know, unusual, but not unheard of. The killer might not have been strong enough to take on a young, muscular, man.”
“I still think it’s unrelated. Maybe a hook up gone wrong, or hate crime,” Ed said.
“I doubt that one person could have moved that body.”
“I know, he was muscular, and dead weight,” Ed said.
******
Ed was just back at his desk when his phone rang, and as he answered it, Paul mouthed the word, “warrant?”
Ed shook his head, and said, “We’ll be right there.”
“Nance’s parents are here.”
“I’ll go down,” Paul said. “You find us someplace to meet with them.”
“Mr. Nance, I’m Detective Malloy, I spoke to you last night,” Paul said, as he approached him and shook his hand.
“I’m Arden,” Mrs. Nance said extending her hand.
“Did you just get in?” Paul asked Devin’s mother.
“We came here directly from the airport,” Arden said.
“Are there any black officers on the case,” Charles Nance asked abruptly.
“Our captain is black, and a significant number of the officers at the scene were black.”
“That means nothing, I meant investigators,” Charles said.
Paul had dealt with grief enough not to take anything said by a family member, personally.
“My partner and I are white,” Paul said.
Charles just shook his head.
“Let’s go upstairs and talk about Devin,” Paul said.
“You should be out finding his killer.”
“The more we know about him, the easier that will be,” Paul said.
He walked over to the elevator, and Devin’s parents followed him. Along the way, Paul called Ed, who directed him to the interview room where he was waiting for them and, in due course, the two detectives sat across from the devastated parents.
“Can you tell us anything that might help us find his killer?” Paul asked.”
“He was dealing drugs,” Charles said sarcastically.
“Charles,” Arden said.
“I understand grief,” Paul said to Mrs. Nance.
“Don’t patronize me,” Charles replied.
“We just got the tox report, and there was no evidence of drugs in his system, and he wasn’t holding any,” Ed said
Charles was about to comment when Ed put his hand out and continued. “We know he hadn’t been in Boston very long. Do you know if he’d had a problem with anyone in the cast, or anywhere else?”
Charles just glared at them but, Arden said, “The girl with the job in Hollywood. She said she’d give Devin a job on her upcoming TV series. He called to tell us about it.”
Charles, who had forgotten about the phone call, said, “Yes, and she was a prostitute. I told him to stay the hell away from her. He didn’t need to be involved with that.”
“No,” Paul said, “he already had a career. He showed me his resume.”
“Exactly,” Charles said with pride.
It was the first civil word Charles had uttered since he’d met them.
Tears suddenly streamed down Arden’s face.
“What is it?” Charles asked taking her hand.
“I just remembered that he called me the day before yesterday, and I never got back to him.”
“That’s all right, you couldn’t have known,” Charles said.
Ed and Paul didn’t interfere as she pulled out her phone and hit the one unplayed message. It was, as she had said, from Devin, and he said, “Turns out that whore isn’t getting me on her show. She was just stringing me along. Well, she’s going to get the shock of her life when I call TMZ and tell them she’s a hooker, and I’ve got her black book to prove it.”
‘And, we have a motive,’ Paul thought as he gave a subtle glance in Ed’s direction. What he said to Arden was, “Whatever you do, don’t erase that.”
“No. I’ll send it to you right now.”
Paul leaned over showed her his email, and she sent the message to him.
“I don’t like him to be remembered like that,” Arden said, “but we can’t let her get away with killing him.”
“No, and he probably wouldn’t have followed through with outing her, he was just disappointed,” Paul said.
“I’m sure that was it,” Charles said. “With all the jobs Devin landed, he always said that there were ten guys as good as him at every audition. He said he needed that one role that would break him out of the pack. I think he thought this might be it.”
The detectives took the couple over to the morgue. They needed an official identification, and Charles wanted to see his son. Max pulled down the sheet to reveal Devin, and Paul watched as Charles, a strong and stoic man, bent over in almost physical pain. He stood up, nodded that that was his son, and they walked out of the room.
“I’m so sorry,” Paul said.
“So am I,” Charles said composing himself. “I was rude to you.”
Paul put his hand on his shoulder and said, “I can’t make any promises, but we’re on this. We will do our level best for him.”
Arden looked at Paul and said, “We know you will.”
The detectives watched them walk away and saw Arden collapse into her husband’s arms sobbing. He tried to comfort her, but his own grief had welled over as well, and he wiped his face of the tears he could no longer hold back.
Watching the sad tableau, Paul said, “Our problem is that he sounds like an SOB on that tape.”
“And a blackmailer.”
“I really don’t think that he would have done it,” Paul said.
“The kid was no saint. He was a do em’ and drop em’ kind of guy.”
“Do em’ and drop em’?” Paul said.
“Just made that up,”
“It’s not brilliant,” Paul said.
“Well, in any case, let’s play the tape for Tiffany. It might cause her to become more helpful.”
“Or not. She’ll lawyer up, and we can’t make her talk,” Paul said.
Ed’s inner monologue was something akin to ‘I can.’
“Let’s get a warrant in the works before we go retrieve Tiffany. We’re going to want to search her apartment,” Paul said.
“And we need to get over to Devin’s motel. We’ve got to find Tiffany’s client book.”
******
Tiffany was at home when the detectives arrived and was more than a little distressed when they rang her buzzer.
“I can’t see you now,” Tiffany said when she answered.
“You’ll see us. You can come willingly, or we can get a warrant and arrest you, that, of course, might make the news. Your choice,” Ed said.
“I want my attorney there.”
“No problem,” Ed said, “but you’re coming with us now.”
While usually hard to rattle, Tiffany was, at this moment, uncertain as to what she should do. A decision had to be made quickly. To keep them out of her apartment, Tiffany decided to meet them at the front door, ready to go. She made two phone calls and met two rather surprised detectives in the foyer.
“All right,” Tiffany said, “I just called Muriel Berenson, she’ll meet us there
.”
They drove Tiffany back to the station in silence and left her to wait for her attorney’s arrival.
Walking back to their office, Ed said, “She didn’t want us in her apartment.”
“Might just have been another client there,” Paul said.
“Maybe but I doubt it,” Ed said. “I was thinking that a client might have helped her move the body.”
“Well somebody would have had to help her, that’s for sure.”
******
Notified that Muriel and Tiffany were ready to meet with them, the detectives headed down to interrogation.
“Why is my client being harassed?” Attorney Muriel Berenson asked as they entered the room.
As Ed was preparing to tape the interview, he asked, “Tiffany, are you all right?”
“Fine, why?”
“Thought you might be grieving for Devin Nance.”
She looked him straight in the eye but made no comment.
“Where were you last night?” Ed asked.
“With a friend.”
He looked at her and said, “I don’t suppose you’d like to tell us your friend’s name.”
She shook her head.
“Why are you still doing that?” Ed asked more as a rhetorical question than expecting a response.
Ed handed his partner the warrant that he’d just retrieved for Tiffany’s apartment.
Paul smiled and said, “We’re heading over to your apartment.”
“Warrant?” Muriel asked.
Paul held up the paperwork that Ed had just handed him.
“On what grounds?”
Paul put his phone on the table and played Devin’s voice mail message to his mother.
Muriel’s expression did not change, as she said, “You got a warrant on that?”
“He’s been shot. He was going to destroy her career. The judge thought that was enough. If you don’t agree, talk to her.”
“Who’s the judge?” Muriel asked simply out of curiosity, as she actually had no recourse.
“Deb Fuller,” Paul said with just a hint of a smile.
Muriel rolled her eyes, as it would be an understatement to say that Deb Fuller was on the side of law and order.
“We’ll be back to see you later.”
“I have to stay here,” Tiffany said in horror.
Ed nodded.
“Are you insane? This could destroy my career.”
“I hope not,” Ed said, “but, for now, you’re not going anywhere.”
******
“This could tank her big break,” Ed said as they drove to Tiffany’s apartment.
“Nobody knows about it, and she’s not famous, at least not yet.”
Arriving back at her door, Ed said, “we need the gun.”
“She didn’t want us in here,” Paul said, “so fingers crossed.”
“You think it’s her?” Ed asked.
“I’m leaning that way,” Paul said.
“Why would she kill Claire?”
“Maybe she didn’t,” Paul said.
“Two murders, two killers? Maybe. Maybe, Devin killed Claire. He didn’t have much of an alibi. Just some random girl he couldn’t identify.”
“He didn’t have much of a motive either,” Ed said with a hint of sarcasm.
Ignoring Ed’s attitude, Paul said, “Might have been unplanned, or we just don’t know why, yet. They’d fought before.”
“Well, let’s see what we’ve got in here,” Ed said as he opened Tiffany’s apartment door.
Upon entering the living room, they saw no evidence of a struggle.
Donning a pair of plastic gloves and handing a pair to his partner, Paul said, “I’ll take the kitchen you take the bedroom.”
As he entered Tiffany’s bedroom and saw some bags in the corner. Thinking, rightly, that they could have belonged to Devin, Ed went about searching them. Other than men’s clothing and grooming items, there was nothing of note.
Going into her closet, Ed found a couple of men’s jackets hung next to Tiffany’s clothing. He checked the pockets, but, again, came up empty.
Tiffany’s bureau contained the usual assortment of underwear, tee shirts, and personal items. The only thing that might even have hinted at her avocation was the rather rich assortment of condoms in her bedtable drawer.
He kept searching every nook and cranny; looking in bags, under the mattress, as well as every square inch of her bathroom. Finding nothing, and frustrated, Ed went out to the kitchen where his partner was still searching through cabinets. He had, however, put a knife holder on the kitchen table.
“You find something?” Ed asked looking at the assortment of knives.
“I couldn’t see anything on them, but there could be something microscopic.”
“That’s a stretch.”
“Yes, it is, but no stone.”
“What’s in here?” Ed asked opening a door off the kitchen.
“Oh, a pantry,” Ed said as he walked into it.
It was clear at a glance that Tiffany used this space for general storage. It contained skis, luggage, Christmas decorations, and to Ed’s utter amazement, a gun.
Without a word, he walked out to the kitchen, picked up an evidence bag, and went back into the closet. Curious about what he’d found, Paul followed him and watched him gently pick up the weapon with his gloved hand, and bag it.
“Ya think?” Paul asked.
“I hope,” Ed responded.
“We need a broader search warrant. I want to look through her paperwork, phone and computer records. I want more proof. Like maybe who she called last night. If she shot him here, she needed help,” Paul said.
Ed went back into the living room and said, “Didn’t there use to be a rug in here.”
“I think you’re right.”
Ed ran downstairs and into the back alley. Paul followed behind and laughed as his partner jumped up onto a dumpster and opened the door. Much as he hated dumpster diving, Ed had to smile.
“Somebody threw away a rug,” Ed said.
Paul called the CLU, as Ed pulled the rug out.
“Maybe now, she’ll tell us what the hell is going on,” Ed said, as he looked at the rug which had a massive stain on it, that looked suspiciously like blood.
“I think we have a winner,” Ed said.
“If the CLU can match it to Devin’s blood and if the forensics match, Tiffany’s career is over.
“Tiffany’s life is over,” Ed said.
******
The next stop on their investigation was a trip to Devin’s motel room. Using the keycard, they’d found in his wallet, the detectives opened the door. They announced that they were police and carefully entered the room. The room looked as if it was unoccupied because, of course, it essentially was. Devin hadn’t spent more than a couple of nights there since he’d arrived in Boston.
“No sign of a struggle,” Ed said stating the obvious.
“No sign of an occupant,” Paul said opening the door to an empty closet.
A look through the bureau drawers came up empty, as well. They carefully moved each piece of furniture, looked under the bed, mattress, and behind anything that wasn’t affixed to the wall.
Sitting on the bed, Ed said, “Damn, I want that book.”
“We have the rug, the gun, the tape. We’re doing all right,” Paul said.
Ed nodded but as a last-ditch effort stripped the bed. Then he pulled the pillows out of their cases, and as he examined the first pillow, smiled. There was a hard, rectangular object inside it. Feeling around, he found where Devin had cut a slit in the pillowcase and pulled out Tiffany’s book.
“Good job,” Paul said. “Maybe somebody in there was her accomplice.”
“Maybe. Let’s let her cook overnight and see if that’ll make her more talkative.”
“I doubt it. She’s going down, whatever she says.”
“True, but a shorter sentence is better than a longer one,” Ed said.
�
�And Maybe she knows something about Claire.”
“Now, that would be nice,” Ed said.
******
Still struggling with why she’d had her vision and the feeling that something was wrong, Faith wondered if the threat she sensed could be related to an unknown Buidseach. Never having met another Buidseach in Boston, Faith wondered if, in fact, there were any more.
The previous summer, she’d seen her mother use a map, and a spell to locate all of the Buidseach in their area. She pulled out the books about her craft that she’d brought back with her, thinking that she might find that particular spell. As she searched for words like finder or locator, Faith could suddenly hear voices.
“Am I going nuts?” she said aloud.
Suddenly before her, she could see three homes, and hear the people inside them. She wondered where they were, and as she did, her spirit left her form, and she was in one of them.
‘Oh, of course, a Fáidh thing,’ Faith thought.
Faith could wander at will and going outside the apartment could see that she was in Boston on Marlboro Street. She went back inside to find a young woman. Remembering that Finn had mentioned Olivia Abernethy, Faith wondered if it was her. It was indeed Olivia, working on her computer, completely unaware that she had a visitor.
Faith was getting something from her, and it was off, somehow. She tried to read Olivia but, in her spirit state, found that she could only get random thoughts. Mostly, Faith sensed ambition and a mischievous spirit.
‘No crime in that,’ Faith thought as she watched the young woman finish her work, grab her keys and leave her apartment. Her first thought was to follow along, but Faith’s curiosity about the other two homes got the better of her. She picked one, and she was there.
This wasn’t in Boston. Inside the house, she got a warm and friendly vibe. It was an upscale house and, looking outside, Faith could see the ocean. Looked to Faith like a coastal suburb on the North Shore. Her newfound ability to seek out Buidseach was a surprise, and Faith was about to get another one when a man came down the stairs and said, “I’m Sam Davis. And who are you?”
Faith felt no danger from him, and so she replied. I’m Faith, can you hear me?”
“And I can see you,”
The Power of Faith: Science Fiction Faith Ferguson Series Book 3 Page 10