King noted his profile. Black male. About six foot and two hundred pounds of muscle. The time stamp was only minutes before the 911 call came in from Jamaal.
“And here is Mason running away about the same time Avery’s call came in.”
Alvarez shifted his weight and flashed King a sideways glance.
King said, “I’ll speak to him.”
LT nodded, leaned back in his chair. “Does Samantha still want the exclusive on this?”
King knitted his brows. “You know she does.”
LT tipped his head back. “Give her the good news first—she’ll get her exclusive. Then tell her about us needing to pick up her son for questioning.” LT’s expression hardened. “I don’t want this to be a surprise, so fair warning, the DA’s office expects us to deliver a confession by the end of today.”
King’s muscles flexed against his undershirt. “What’s the rush?”
LT’s brow furrowed. “Mayor Goldberg needs it to disappear ASAP from the minds of his constituents.”
King pushed his heels into the floor and stood. “At the cost of potentially getting it wrong?”
LT threaded his fingers and stared up into King’s eyes. “Politics isn’t my forte. Just do your job and let’s make sure we get it right.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
“Sam, we can’t just leave Allison in the house with a monster like that,” Erin argued, as I closed up the browser and hurdled over the boxes of new equipment, preparing to leave.
“No, maybe not,” I said, checking my phone. “But at least we know where she’s at if new evidence emerges and suggests Marty was behind Avery’s murder.”
Erin gave me a resolute look as I began reminding myself of the facts, needing to convince myself that Allison wasn’t in any immediate danger. Yes, there was blood on his shirt and she’d given him a twenty-dollar bill, but that wasn’t enough to convict the man. Was it?
“Nothing suggests Marty knows anything about King’s past or King’s failure to solve specific crimes,” I said.
“But he does have a history of sexual assault.”
I shook my head, felt my bangs swish over my eyes. “Marty has been locked away for the last five years and is only on his second day out. The last thing a man like him would want is to be put back behind bars.”
Erin folded her arms and took a confrontational stance. “Or maybe that’s exactly what he wants.” Erin followed up by telling me about men who become institutionalized and know only how to survive in the prison system.
“Okay. Fine. But then how do you explain Peggy Hill’s murder. And the note on your door. Someone was coming after King before Marty was out.” Maybe I was only trying to convince myself that Allison was safe, but there was more evidence that Marty was innocent than guilty.
Erin rolled her eyes. “Working with someone. All kinds of alliances form on the inside. C’mon Sam, you’re better than this.”
The truth was, we didn’t know Marty well enough to form an opinion and I wasn’t going to work off of assumptions. “Allison will be fine,” I said. “The person we’re looking for is closer to King’s life. That’s what he thinks and that’s what I believe, too.”
“And what, you think that someone is Walker?”
I held her gaze for a moment, thinking about Frank Lowe. Then I said, “We have no choice but to confront him about why he’s interested in the murders committed by Frank Lowe.”
“Sam, let’s not burn this bridge just yet.”
My expression pinched and I refused to back down. “So we should just sit on our hands and not ask Mr. Million Dollar Man why he’s interested in a case that’s not even considered cold?”
Erin’s glimmering eyes drifted over her new equipment. It was clear she wasn’t willing to give it all up without first learning for certain we were right about Walker. “All I’m saying is that now might not be the right time to be slinging mud.”
“I disagree,” I said, exiting the office. Erin followed and I came to an abrupt stop, turning to face her. “Why was he at Commons Park last night, and why do I have a feeling he wants to point out King’s flaws to me?”
Erin couldn’t give me a straight answer. The only thing I could hear was Walker’s threats he spat at Avery only hours before she was killed. He needed to explain himself, especially since our reputation was now directly tied to his actions.
“Think about it,” I said. “Walker enters our lives at the same time murders are made to look like cold cases, cold cases he’s been investigating himself?” My cheeks were glowing hot, wondering why I felt the need to explain myself at all.
Erin knew what I was saying, knew we’d cracked cases in the past when dealing with less evidence than what we currently had. Yet she still hesitated to admit Walker was up to something fishy, but I could see it in her eyes. She was coming around and I needed to set the hook before I lost her again to Walker’s bait.
“I need to see that corkboard,” I said. “Ask him if his interest in Frank Lowe has anything to do with where Avery was found murdered.”
Erin inhaled a deep breath through her nose and nodded. “Okay. Fine. We’ll ask him what he knows. We’ve got nothing to lose, right?”
I reached for her hand and squeezed. “Right.”
Erin looked me straight in the eye and said, “Walker will want to go after Boyd now that he’s got a taste of what we do.”
“I know.” I sighed. “But I’m not about to let King work this investigation alone, and I also can’t jeopardize losing our chance to bring justice to Avery because of the incompetence Walker has already shown.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
As soon as we arrived to Walker’s office I received a call from King. I answered after unbuckling my seatbelt. King was quiet and slow to tell me why he was calling.
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
Erin turned her head and stared, feeling my sudden concern.
King’s voice brought my attention back to him. “Have you seen Mason today?” he asked.
I felt my grip tighten on my phone. “Why are you asking?”
King sighed and I heard the line fill with static—the sounds of him scrubbing a hand over his face. Erin pressed her fingertips into my thigh and asked if everything was okay. I turned my gaze forward and asked King, “Alex, what did Mason do?”
“Did you know that he was in the park last night?”
I pressed my lips into a flat line and kept staring through the windshield. I hadn’t known his exact whereabouts until just now. It was easy to tell myself King was wrong, that Mason was nowhere near where Avery was last night.
My heart beat in a steady rhythm. I’d tricked myself long ago into believing that my job never put my son into any kind of danger. But it had before and apparently may have again.
“I was with you, remember?” I said, not wanting to remind myself that Angelina was also at Alex’s house for dinner. “Did he see something?”
King’s voice was a deep whisper that made the hairs on my arm stand on end. “I’ve been tasked with bringing him in for questioning.”
I froze before closing my eyes. I kept shaking my head no. What the heck was going on and why was my son a person of interest in a crime I knew he didn’t commit?
“Is he home, Sam?”
“Mason didn’t do this.”
“Trust me, I know, but maybe he’s a witness to something that could help us catch whoever did.”
King was making his case. I knew he was only doing his job but, inside, I roared and swore to obey my vows as a mother to protect my young at any cost. “There must be others who you can question besides him.”
I’d do anything to avoid having Mason go through the intense pressure of a police interrogation. I also knew King couldn’t tell me exactly what they had on him, either, to want to bring him in. That was what really worried me. Mason—like any teenage boy—made mistakes. Sometimes mistakes with lasting consequences.
“You’re right,” Ki
ng said. “It’s not just him, Sam. We’re rounding up everyone who was remotely close to the park last night. But Mason was caught on camera and LT has given me little choice in the matter.”
I picked up my head and swept my gaze to Erin. “At least let me bring him to you.”
Silence hung on the line and, after a moment’s pause, King agreed but gave me a deadline I had to meet. “Thank you,” I said, feeling his intense sense of urgency to get after tracking down Avery’s killer. In return, I tossed him a bone. “In the meantime, you should question a man named Marty Ray.”
“Marty Ray,” King repeated as if writing his name down. “Who is he and why would I want to speak with him?”
I shared only what Allison told me. King asked for a description, where he might find him. That gave me hope that I still had time to ask Mason what the heck happened—and if I should be worried he’d done something he shouldn’t have—before they put him under the microscope. As soon as I told King everything, I knew Marty was on King’s list of suspects.
King asked, “You know this man?”
“He’s Allison’s cousin. Recently released from prison. And, according to her, Marty was in the park last night, too, about the time Avery was believed to have been attacked.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Erin was fidgeting in the seat next to me as she waited silently for me to relay the message I just got from King. I gathered my thoughts and glanced to the clock. “We have two hours.”
Erin swept her gaze up to me. “Two hours until what?”
We locked eyes. I was still feeling lightheaded as I thought about my teenage son being dragged down to the station for questioning. The timing couldn’t have been worse. He needed a lawyer and I didn’t have the money for one. But, beyond that, it was the emotional strain on his young shoulders that bothered me most.
“That was King,” I said.
She gave me the look like she already knew. “Is he going to check out Marty?”
I nodded and caught her up to speed about Mason being in the park last night—including our two hour window before I had to deliver him up to King.
“Jesus.” Erin glanced out the window and tucked a blonde lock behind her left ear. “Do you think he saw something?”
I hoped he hadn’t. I still couldn’t stomach what happened to Avery, and that was with years of experience under my belt from working the crime beat. I’d seen a lot over the years and was somewhat hardened by it all, but I could only imagine the damage it would inflict on a young impressionable mind such as Mason. “He needs a lawyer.”
Erin said, “I know someone I could call.”
I turned my head and gave an arched look of doubt. “A criminal defense attorney?”
Erin raised both her eyebrows. “Want me to call her?”
I furrowed my brow. “Dare I ask how much?”
Erin’s eyes softened. “Don’t worry about it.” She caught my hand and squeezed. “Let’s just make sure Mason has the representation he needs to navigate those choppy waters.”
My heart swelled with gratitude and I still couldn’t believe this was happening. Mason was innocent—I was sure it was only a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time—but that didn’t get rid of the fact that he was going to be questioned. Questioned by detectives who often used aggressive and confusing tactics to get a confession.
Erin opened her door first and we exited the vehicle and made our way to the front doors of the building that housed Walker’s office. The door suctioned to the rubber as I opened it and we made our way to the elevator.
My feet were heavy with uncertainty. As difficult as it was, I shifted my focus back to Walker and couldn’t stop thinking about how both he and my son were near such a brutal crime about the same time. I didn’t want to believe it was coincidence, but what else could it possibly be? Could Mason have been killed, too?
I stared at the digital display with arms crossed, counting off the floors we passed as we were whisked up.
The theory King presented to me this morning had me believing it was possible. In fact, I was now starting to believe that anybody who had ever meant anything to him might one day find their name on a list of possible targets. Why not it be my son? Or was Avery specifically attacked for knowing King, a deeper reason beyond something to do with his father we still hadn’t figured out?
As soon as we stepped off the elevator I heard heels clacking their way toward us on the marble floor. A second later, Gemma turned the corner and greeted us in the lobby with a knowing smile.
“We’re here to speak with Walker,” I said, thinking how strange it was she always seemed to know when we were coming. There were security cameras everywhere, but did she have access to those in the lobby, too? Or was she notified by building staff?
“Of course you are.” Gemma’s lips curled without ever revealing her pearly whites. “Unfortunately, Walker isn’t in at the moment.”
“Do you know where we can find him?”
She arched a perfectly plucked brow. “I assume you’re here to thank him for the new equipment?”
The subtle undertone of her words was meant to make us feel inferior. Why did Walker send the equipment in the first place? Was it a bribe to get us to agree to their terms? Or was this his way of apologizing for his brash behavior yesterday? Every interaction with Walker and his staff was growing stranger by the day.
I remained cordial when asking, “If you can’t say where he is, perhaps you know when he’ll be back?”
Gemma hemmed and hawed her way nowhere fast. Her lack of clarity did little to ease my suspicions about Walker’s true intentions, and I wondered if we were wasting our time with him.
“I’m sorry, Samantha. I do apologize for my lack of specifics.” Gemma clasped her hands and made sure to keep both Erin and me in her line of sight. “He was quite upset with what happened yesterday in the field.”
My eyes narrowed. “So he rewards us with new equipment?”
Gemma’s lips tightened as she gave me an arched look that reminded me vaguely of Angelina. They shared the same bitch qualities I wanted no part of. Being around Walker and his associates was like attending a circus.
“It’s the DPD who are incompetent. Am I right?” Gemma let out a tiny cackle. “Anyway, we should all be packing heat in our line of work. And, besides, I heard the rookie officer took it too far.” Gemma paused to stare me down, waiting for me to react. “Walter could have been killed.” She gave a curt nod. “Actions do have consequences.”
Our line of work? I felt my fingernails dig deep into my palms and Erin must have felt me fuming with anger because she stepped in before I flattened my hand and smacked that smirk right off Gemma’s painted face.
Erin said, “Walker’s note said he had something for us. Maybe we could get that and be on our way?”
Gemma blinked and peeled her gaze off me. “Oh, yes. Of course. Right this way.”
We followed her into the fishbowl and I was anxious to see the corkboard, if the crimes of Frank Lowe were still on display as I’d seen them yesterday. I still didn’t understand why Walker had my article linked to that particular case. As long as Erin could occupy Gemma, I could hopefully get some answers to the questions I couldn’t stop asking myself.
Erin followed Gemma to the table and I turned to the corkboard only to find everything had been wiped clean. There was nothing about Frank Lowe—my article gone, too. In its place, a new photo was prominently tacked.
Was this the reason Walter Walker asked us to come here in the first place? From my assessment of who he was, it seemed likely.
I glanced to Gemma. Erin had her distracted and, with their backs turned to me, I floated across the floor toward to the corkboard. I asked myself why I was now staring into the face of Angelina Hill.
Chapter Fifty
“The man LT couldn’t identify in the video,” King turned to his partner, “is Marty Ray.”
Alvarez pushed back from his desk, the sounds of
his chair rolling across the linoleum floor filling the air around them. “You sure?”
Suddenly, King’s phone hummed in his palm. He glanced at the display and recognized the number. “I’ve got to take this.”
Alvarez stretched his neck and followed King with his eyes, still waiting for his partner to confirm how he knew the name of their John Doe. “Was that Samantha you were just talking to?”
Without taking his eyes off his phone, King said, “Look up Marty Ray. His name should already be in the system. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Whatever you say, boss.” Alvarez mock-saluted King as he disappeared into the stairwell.
King’s phone was still buzzing as the heavy door latched closed behind him. He took the call in private and recognized Tristan Knight’s voice immediately.
“Sorry to bother you, Alex,” Tristan’s voice filled King’s ear, “but you said to call if your mother started acting up again.”
The pounding in King’s temples intensified as he asked himself if his mother’s move was worth it or not. His mother was becoming quite the handful—suddenly needing more attention than a toddler—and King was having doubts.
“Yes, of course. What’s the problem, is she not playing nice with others again?” King hoped to lighten the mood by taking a playful jab at his mother’s stubbornness.
Tristan chuckled a small laugh. “No, it’s not that I’m afraid. Her behavior has improved since your last visit—”
King picked his head up and pulled his eyebrows together. “Than what’s the problem?”
Tristan cleared his throat. “Your mother is refusing to be in her room.”
King was still staring at the white wall ahead when he asked, “Did something happen to make her not want to be in there?”
“If something did, she hasn’t told me. But she was found roaming the halls late last night and hasn’t returned to her room since.”
King’s patience was thinning. He glanced at his watch, hoping Tristan got on with it before he regretted giving him his cellphone number. There was important police work he could be doing. The last thing he needed was to be helping the people he was paying a fortune to help babysit his mother. “Then what’s she saying?”
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