“Planting evidence.”
“Exactly. I asked her why she didn’t come forward with this video sooner. Apparently, she’d been in Hawaii for the last couple of weeks.”
“Did you get a good look at the suspect?”
“Hell no. They had a hood covering most of their face. What it did do however was, exonerate Timothy Jordan.”
“How so? I thought you just said that you couldn’t really see their face.”
“We couldn’t, but from the physical stature of the person, it was obvious that it wasn’t Officer Jordan.”
“Is that all? Or is there more?” Jarvis asked.
“There’s more. After showing me that, she went back even further and showed me footage of the day Donald Snyder was killed. The same figure was seen climbing through the window just moments before he was murdered. Now,” Frank said as he leaned across the table. “Here is the thing that broke the case wide open and left no doubt as to who the guilty party was. When I got back to the station, I had Joe work his magic on connecting the cell phone to the camera on the frame. Imagine our surprise when we saw Officer Carla Johnson strangling Donald Snyder from behind.”
Jarvis’s mouth fell open.
“Wow. That’s quite a story.”
“You’re telling me.”
“So, this Carla Johnson, is she in custody? And just what the hell was her motive?”
“To be honest with you, we have no idea what her motive was. As far as her being in custody, we had her in custody until someone bailed her out.”
Jarvis’s face twisted.
“Bailed her out? The judge gave her bail? On a capital murder charge? That’s hard to believe.”
“My thoughts exactly. But from what I heard, the judge didn’t want a police officer in jail for fear of her safety.”
“Even so . . . The bail had to be set pretty high. Who in the hell put up that kind of money?”
“Beats the hell out of me. But get this, Carla called the next day wanting to make a deal.”
“Really? What kind of deal?”
“She didn’t say. Just said she wanted to talk to the DA.”
Just then, a young-looking woman came over.
“Excuse me. You two looked like you were in deep conversation, so I didn’t want to interrupt, but my manager told me I needed to come over and see if you wanted anything.”
“Yes, we’ll have two coffees,” Jarvis answered. “So, this Carla Johnson, what deal did she want to make?”
“We never got the chance to find out. Carla was found dead in her car.”
“Wait . . .what?”
“You heard me. She was getting ready to come to the station and tell us what kind of deal she was looking for, and someone murdered her.”
Jarvis was stunned. This had to be one of the strangest cases he’d ever heard of.
“Something stinks here, Frank.”
“I agree. Hopefully, I can find out what it is.”
Jarvis stared at Frank for a few seconds before looking down at the table. It was clear that he had something on his mind.
“Jarvis, what’s up, man? Ever since we started this conversation, it seems like you’ve had something on your mind.”
Jarvis took off his glasses and ran his hand down the front of his face. With his eyes closed, he bit the bottom of his lip. When he opened his eyes, they immediately met Frank’s piercing gaze.
“Frank, I had some information I think you need to know.”
“I’m listening.”
Jarvis paused as the waitress came and set two cups of coffee on the table. He waited until he was sure that she was out of earshot to begin talking again. Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward on the table and laid out the situation to Frank. By the time he finished, Frank was thoroughly shocked.
“Oh my God,” he said, standing up to leave. He was just getting ready to head for the door when Amber came power walking toward the table.
“Frank, we may have a problem. We need to leave right now.”
63
Timothy Jordan sat quietly in the police station parking lot. A river of tears streamed down his face. The secret feelings he had for Carla Johnson were pushing their way to the surface. Although he had never admitted it to anyone, Timothy had an enormous crush on Carla. The two of them had shared a night of passion that resulted in him falling hard. He wanted to pursue a relationship, but Carla was vehemently opposed to it. She blamed their sexual slip up on the bottle of wine the two of them had consumed on Carla’s birthday. She also reminded him that personal relationships were not allowed within the department. Timothy didn’t like it, but he had to accept it.
His feelings for Carla remained strong, which is why doing what he’d promised her he would do was so difficult for him. It had been days since Carla’s funeral, and Timothy still couldn’t bring himself to open up her locker. Even though he’d promised her that he would clean it out for her, so far, it had been too painful for him to do so, but he knew that he needed to do so before his superiors ordered it to be cleaned out. Today was the day he’d decided to find his resolve. Today was the day he decided to man up. Today was the day that he’d decided to honor her wishes.
Because of the extremely hard way he’d taken Carla’s death, the powers that be decided that it would be better for him to take a few days off. Timothy didn’t want to do it, but Sergeant Moore had insisted. He himself had just returned from vacation and was shocked to find out what was going on. Since Marie Snyder was still on leave, he made the calls on how the precinct was being run. She’d been allowed to return to her home, but not the precinct.
Timothy wiped his eyes and got out of his car. He closed the door and stood there for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and heading into the precinct. His steps were hurried. He determined that the faster he did what he was there for, the faster he could get over it.
Timothy kept his head down as he walked through the station. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. That was the main reason he came in early. This way, he could avoid his co-workers. His chest tightened when he got to the locker room and came upon Carla’s locker. After taking another deep breath, he opened her locker and looked inside. He was surprised to see that it was relatively empty. All that sat inside was a small voice recorder. Lying underneath it was a folded slip of paper. Timothy slid the paper from under the recorder and opened it.
Listen in private, it simply said.
Timothy picked up the recorder and looked at it curiously. Not wanting to take the chance that someone else might overhear it while he listened to it, he decided to take it back to his car. He was so curious that he literally ran to his vehicle. Could it be that she was professing her love for him? Timothy nearly ripped the handle off the door, trying to get inside of his car. His heart fluttered as he pressed play and listened for the sound of her sweet voice.
Hello, Timothy. There are some things that I need to confess to you . . .
Timothy smiled warmly as she began speaking. However, the more she talked, the more his smile metamorphosized into a bitter frown. By the time she finished, his emotions were scattered, mostly dominated by shock and rage. Knowing that he needed to relay the information he’d just received to someone he felt he could trust, he called Detective Amber Davis. When she didn’t answer, she called back. Again, there was no answer. He called a third time. By this time he played the recording and left it on his voice mail.
“I’m on my way to get to the bottom of this,” he said, just before hanging up and starting his engine.
64
Frank and Amber sprinted from the coffee shop and jumped in their vehicle. As fast as humanly possible, Frank started the engine and peeled off down the street. He clicked the switch for the siren, alerting cars in his path that he was on his way to attend to official police business. His mind whirled around the information that the private investigator, Jarvis Green, had just given him. Every bit of it held massive importance to the puzzle he was trying to piece togethe
r. It paled in comparison however, to the bomb that Amber was about to drop on him. Frank’s mouth was wide open as he listened to her. When she finished, he instantly knew that if he didn’t step on it, the message she’d received could have disastrous consequences.
While Frank was zipping through traffic, Amber was on the radio calling for back up. Hopefully, they wouldn’t need it, but it was better to be safe than sorry. When they arrived at their destination, Frank skidded to a stop at the curb. Amber looked at the car parked in front of them and held her breath. Praying that they weren’t too late to intervene, they made their way inside the fence and up the steps. An earsplitting bang caused both detectives to draw their weapons. With no time to follow announcement protocols, Frank rammed his thick shoulder into the door. Wood splintered as the door detached from its hinges. Both detectives came to a sudden halt when they got to the living room. Utter shocked was plastered on their faces as they stared down at the bleeding corpse on the floor.
“Drop that gun!” Amber shouted as she cocked her weapon and pointed it at Timothy Jordan’s head. Timothy slowly turned his head and looked over his shoulder at the two detectives. The crazed look in his eyes caused a cold shiver to run down Amber’s spine. Although her gun was still trained on him, she took a cautionary step back.
“You heard her, asshole! Drop that gun!” Frank shouted, backing up his partner.
“She killed Carla.”
“You don’t know that,” Amber said.
“Yes, I do. She admitted it. She admitted the whole thing,” he said softly. “Didn’t you listen to the voicemail I left you Detective?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Then you know all about her paying Carla to kill her husband. You know all about the million-dollar life insurance policy she took out on him a year ago. And I guess you know all about–––”
“We know about everything! Now drop that gun, Officer Jordan. I’m not going to ask you again,” Frank said, cocking the hammer on his .45 caliber pistol. Timothy Jordan smirked as he tossed the gun on the floor beside Marie Snyder’s dead body.
“She laughed at me. She thought it was funny that she killed Carla.” Timothy then looked at Amber. “Did you tell Detective Stone why she had her husband killed?”
Frank looked confused. From the moment Amber had told him about the one-million-dollar life insurance policy, he assumed that Marie had killed her husband for the money.
“The money was only part of the reason Detective,” Timothy said to Frank, reading his mind.
“Timothy, you have no idea what you just did,” Amber said.
“Yes, I do. I came over here and killed a woman who murdered someone who I cared very deeply about.”
“No, you came over here and killed a woman for a woman who tried to frame you for murder.”
A look of shock fell across Timothy’s face. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
“What did you say?” he asked in astonishment.
“You heard me. But just in case you’re confused, I’ll explain it to you. Remember when you couldn’t find your wallet at the bar? Well, you couldn’t find it because Carla had pick-pocketed you. Then she planted it right next to that window,” Amber said, pointing toward the window.
Timothy’s heart shattered. Once again, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He started shaking his head rapidly.
“No! That’s bullshit! I don’t believe it! Carla would never do that to me!”
“Well, whether or not you believe it, your ass is going to jail,” Amber said.
Frank stared at Timothy for a long while before instructing Amber to handcuff him and read him his rights. As she ushered Officer Timothy Jordan out of the house and into the back of a waiting squad car, Frank walked across the floor and stood over his now deceased captain. His emotions were all over the place. This woman who he’d come to know and respect had turned out to be a cold-blooded murderer. Sadly, it dawned on him that he hadn’t really known her at all.
Epilogue
A driving rain pummeled Frank’s umbrella, nearly causing it to collapse. For the second time in the last two weeks, he’d had to stare down into the casket of another slain law enforcement officer. It was a feeling he had no desire to get used to. He was still amazed at how easily Captain Marie Snyder had fooled he and the entire police force. Never in his wildest dreams could he ever imagine that she could be such a cold-blooded murderer. He couldn’t help but feel a measure of contempt for her. She was a cop––and not just a regular cop. She was a captain. She was in an authoritative position and instead of using it to protect and serve the public, like she’d taken an oath to do, she used it to try to get away with killing her husband.
The longer he’d looked down at her, the angrier he became. This was not only his boss. This was a woman that he considered to be his friend, and she had deceived him. The only thing stopping him from hating her was the ultimate reason she’d hired someone to kill her husband. When Amber had played the voice mail of Carla’s recorded message to Timothy Jordan, all the pieces fell into place. Frank Stone was heartbroken. He was also disappointed in himself. He’d been trained to tell when someone was lying to him. He’d been trained to notice when someone was trying to deceive him. Maybe if he had figured out what was going on earlier, he could have done something to stop it.
The burial service was barely ten minutes old when Frank decided he’d had enough. He abruptly turned and headed back to his car. His shoes made sloshing sounds as his frame sunk into the mud. By the time he got back to his car, they were so filthy he had to wipe them off.
After doing so, he shook off his umbrella, threw it in the backseat, and closed the door. Five seconds later, his passenger’s door opened. He looked to his right to see Amber getting in. Instead of wiping off her shoes, however, she took them off and put them inside a plastic bag.
“You weren’t going to leave me, were you?”
Frank responded by slowly shaking his head.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I just can’t believe that Marie did this.”
“Neither can I.”
Frank put his hands on his head and shook again.
“I’ll tell you what though, partner. I know some women who would think she’s a damn hero.”
“What?” Frank asked, his head snapping around.
“Not me, partner,” Amber said, raising her hands. “But the asshole did give her a death sentence.”
Frank sighed. If he were being honest with himself, he would have to admit that, deep down inside, Donald Snyder got what he deserved.
“Play the recording again,” Frank said, silencing his cell phone.
“What?”
“Play it again. I think I’m going to have to hear it again to believe this bizarre incident, honestly.”
Amber hesitated for a brief second before reaching into her pocket and taking out her cell phone. She accessed her voicemail, increased the volume to its fullest, and pressed play.
Hello, Timothy. There are some things that I need to confess to you, but before I start, I would like to say that I am very, very sorry. I never meant to lie to you. If you are hearing this, it means that I am probably on my way to prison. The fact of the matter is that I am the one in the video. I killed Donald Snyder. His wife promised to pay me fifty thousand dollars to do it. She said that she had a one hundred-thousand-dollar life insurance policy on him, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that she was willing to give me half of her life insurance policy. Nevertheless, fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money. I have always been money hungry. I’m not proud of it, but that’s the way I am. The life insurance policy is just part of the reason Marie Snyder killed her husband.
She also told me that she had a private investigator follow him and discovered that he’d been cheating on her. She told me that I had no idea how hard it was to pretend to still love a man who had put her in the position her husband did. When I asked her what she meant by that, she looked me strai
ght in the eye and revealed that Donald had given her HIV. I am telling you this just in case something sinister happens to me. In that event, the first person you should look at is Captain Marie Snyder.
Just so you know, Timothy, I would have never allowed you to go to jail. I would have come clean about what I had done before I let that happen. Timothy, I realize that you have feelings for me and if by some miracle, my lawyer gets me out of this jam, I would like to discuss our relationship. I know that’s not proper protocol, but at this point, I really don’t give a shit. Once again, I want you to know how sorry I am. Please forgive me. Carla.
As the voicemail ended, Amber glanced over at her partner.
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t believe one word of that.”
“Which part?”
“The part where she says that she would have come clean. I don’t believe that crap for a second.”
“Neither do I. She would have let that man burn in hell to save herself if she had to. I have to admit though, it shocked the hell out of me to learn that Captain Snyder had HIV.”
The two of them sat in silence, watching the people around the burial site until they began to disband. Not wanting to be bothered with anyone, Frank started the engine and pulled off. Both he and Amber decided that they weren’t going to attend the repast. They were tired, disgusted, and had no desire
to be asked a thousand questions. After dropping Amber off, Frank drove as fast as safety would allow. All he wanted to do was go home, sit on his front porch, and sip a cold beer. He pulled into the driveway, cut the engine, and sat there. It was he first time in two weeks that he was able to decompress. After taking a few deep breaths, Frank got out of his car and went into his house. He was greeted warmly by Frank Jr. and Rhonda ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him. Although she and Frank Jr. were teenagers, they sensed that their father was torn apart by what had transpired.
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