by K. C. Crowne
I returned my head to the case, thinking about the fact that the surveillance video caught the cop on camera but offered no clues as to who it might be. Whoever this was, they knew their shit, but they also knew I hadn’t been charged. They would make a mistake, and when they did, we would be ready for them. I didn’t like putting Rene in the middle of the fight, but she refused to sit it out. She knew how to look out for herself, even if it made me nervous.
Besides Joe, my strange, reclusive neighbor who lived pretty far through the woods, no one else was anywhere near my grandmother’s cabin. My grandmother had enjoyed her privacy, which was the reason she and my grandfather had originally bought the place. No one bothered them, and they could come out to the cabin and relax.
Any pictures taken from the woods would give us a direction on where to look for clues. We knew that if there were pics of us kissing, or anything else, the cop was poking around the property. No one else would be in the woods around the cabin. Because of this, we had all kinds of strategies for tracking him down.
So, asshole, did you follow me here?
Someone would have to go through a lot to get through the woods and perch somewhere hidden and where we wouldn’t notice. At the same time, there were no outdoor lights except close to the house, so from the inside looking out, they could be standing at the woodpile and I wouldn’t be able to see them. I thought about installing some lights, but that would defeat the purpose of our whole plan. We wanted them to think we had no idea they were out there, even though they’d tipped their hand by sending the picture of us. We were hoping the perp would believe we were too busy fucking to actually be working the case. We’d close the curtains, mostly, to keep up the illusion.
I stood up, brushed off my shorts, and headed back into the cabin. I brushed my teeth and put on a t-shirt. I needed to go over and talk to Joe because it was important that he understand and be on board with our plan. We couldn’t bring in our own team because someone on the inside was the criminal. We were on our own, and I had to find help anywhere I could.
I grabbed my .45 and strapped it to my hip, pulling my light jacket on to cover it. I didn’t want to risk being ambushed in the woods with no protection. Plus, Joe didn’t exactly take kindly to people walking up on him, so I’d rather be safe than sorry.
When I headed out, I made sure to lock up. I didn’t want to come back to any surprises. As I walked down the drive heading for Joe’s, I thought about the old man, who I’d known since I was a little boy. Joe was a Vietnam vet with medals and awards I’d never seen before, but that I knew were really important to him. He’d never talked to me about the war, but my grandmother had told me when I was little after I’d asked about the pictures he had hanging on his walls. I had a deep respect for the man, but I felt for him too. I was pretty sure he lived in the middle of nowhere by himself because he had a hard time being in public. I knew he had family, but I wasn’t there enough to see if they ever came to visit.
Even growing up, I’d been able to tell that Joe was the kind of man that generally didn’t like people. His gruff exterior and angry eyes scared most right off his porch. As kids, my friends had been terrified to go over there when my grandma would ask us to take him some dinner or a pie. He was tolerant of me, though, never too friendly, but tolerant.
It had been a long time since I’d seen the old man, but I knew he could probably use some human interaction, and maybe a drink or two.
I walked up his driveway, smiling at his multiple no trespassing signs. The man was seriously the grumpiest old fucker I’d ever met. I was hoping he would agree to help us. He was an important part of the plan, and a lot was riding on his willingness to get involved. I stepped cautiously onto his porch and took a deep breath before knocking. At once I could hear his old military boots clumping across the floor.
“What do you want?” he said hoarsely, as if he didn’t use his voice often, flinging the door open.
“Joe,” I said, taking a step back in case he didn’t recognize me. “It’s Martin Ferrel from across the way.”
“Martin,” he said, looking a little surprised as he checked behind me, then narrowed his eyes at my face for several seconds. Finally, he said, “Come on in, I suppose.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said, walking in and waiting in the hallway as he locked up.
I stared at the old black and white photos hung on the walls. They were all of him with his platoon, him in uniform, and him with his wife, who had died at a young age. There were also pictures of his kids and their families hanging on the walls, and I smiled, knowing there was a sweet old man down in there somewhere.
“Come on in here,” he said, leading me into the living room. “You want a bourbon?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “That would be nice.”
He walked over to the bookshelf on the side and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of bourbon. He poured two fingers’ worth into each glass and turned around, handing me one and sitting down in the chair across from me. He took a sip and stared at me.
“I know you didn’t come here for your grandma,” he said brusquely. “What can I do for you?”
“I won’t waste your time sir,” I said. “I’ll just get straight to it. I work for the Salt Lake City Police, in homicide, and someone’s trying to set me up for a crime I didn’t commit. Whoever did it has been stalking me, taking pictures, trying to get to me and the IA agent on the case. We have a plan to lure him to the cabin where I’m staying right now. See if he sends more pictures to us from the woods outside.”
“And you’re lookin’ for my help in spottin’ him when he’s out there in them woods,” he stated.
“Exactly,” I replied. “Just the lookout. I promise we won’t put you in any danger.”
“Shoot.” He laughed, slapping his leg. “I ain’t afraid of whoever it is. You seen my medals, right?”
“I have.” I smiled at him. “And that’s why I knew you were the perfect man for the job.”
He was on board, which was a huge relief. Now I just had to figure out exactly how he could do it. He had a twinkle in his eye, and I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or terrified. The last thing I needed was a rogue ex-military guy taking actions into his own hands.
“What are your thoughts on how to go about this?”
“You look worried, son.” His bark of a laugh shocked me. “I promise I won’t go all commando on you. I’m too old for that shit now. I have some game cameras I put all over the woods, especially on that strip between you and me, where the deer track runs. I try to move ‘em every couple weeks or so. I’ll go out tomorrow and move ‘em, make sure they’re all facin’ your cabin. They have night vision, so you’ll be able to catch the heat from anyone out there. I can access them anytime. You just come over when you need to see ‘em, and we’ll go through ‘em together.”
“You think they’re strong enough to catch a face?”
“State of the art, and from what I hear the cops can enhance the images, or that’s what I read in a cop novel,” he said with a shrug. “They’ll be all greenish-white from the night vision, but the features should be clear.”
“That sounds perfect,” I said, standing up. “Thank you so much, sir.”
“No problem,” he said. “Finally, somethin’ exciting. It gets pretty borin’ out here sometimes.”
“Tell me about it.” I chuckled, shaking his hand. “If you need anything just holler. I’ll be over there until this perp is caught.”
“Will do,” he said, nodding.
As I headed for the door, I stopped and asked, “Hey, you got any of those cop novels here? Or any books? I gotta be here for a while and I’m goin’ stir crazy.”
He nodded and retraced his steps, returning a moment later with three paperback books. He tapped them with his finger and said, “All three are good.”
“Thanks. I’ll return them.”
“No hurry. I finished those.”
I left Joe and headed back down to the cabin to r
esume my duties as the sitting duck. With the new plan in place, I really didn’t mind as much as I had. It was something I could do to make progress on the investigation. Rene was under the impression that the cop setting me up was getting desperate. They knew that if I hadn’t been hauled in and charged by now, I probably wouldn’t be. And they needed to regain control. Sooner or later, the guy would come after me, figuring if I wasn’t going to jail, they would have to get rid of me to save themselves. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I was ready for the asshole.
Rene
“Hey,” Lopez said, heading to my desk in the I.A. department, a place few cops ventured. “I want you to come into this meeting with Captain Riggs.”
“What’s it about?”
“It’s about the case, but I have to run it by him first.”
“Alright,” I replied, grabbing my coffee and following her to the captain’s office. “I’ll take any lead I can right now. Things are playing out slowly, and I need to get a line on this before Martin loses his mind out there in that cabin.”
“I know.” She laughed. “I can’t even imagine him out there choppin’ wood and cookin’ his own food.”
“It’s not pretty,” I said, remembering his sweaty body. Actually, it was very pretty, but that’s none of your damn business.
“Ladies,” the captain greeted. “Come on in and shut the door.”
“Thank you for seeing us,” Lopez said.
“You have a lead?” he asked eagerly.
“I do,” she said, leaning forward. “I have to say, though, it’s only rumors from my old house at this point, but when I started investigating, it seemed like something that might be relevant. It’s a little touchy. He isn’t just some low-level beat cop.”
“Uh, oh,” Riggs said, glancing between us. “That gets sticky.”
“I know,” she agreed. “That’s why I’ve kept it to myself.”
“Alright, what’s the name?” I asked, ready for a break in the case.
“Captain George Avery,” she murmured as if scared of being overheard. “Head of Vice.”
“Shit,” Riggs cursed, rubbing his face, but he didn’t sound surprised.
“Is he already a suspect in something?” I asked.
“He’s known around for being a shifty-ass cop who worked his way up by covering up bad shit for other cops,” Riggs said. “He’s kind of at the center of that group I was talking about before.”
“He’s a vice cop, most recently famous for roughing up a drug dealer and getting a slap on the wrist for it,” Lopez said. “And I don’t mean roughing up like a bloody lip. I’m talking the kid’s probably still in intensive care at the hospital. He was a drug dealer, sure, but he was also fifteen years old and selling a dime bag of weed.”
“Fuck,” I snarled, shaking my head. “Well, that just helps confirm my suspicions. We need to pull this guy’s file and look into his background. If he roughed up someone that bad after being on the force that long, you know it wasn’t the first time.”
“Or the last,” Riggs mused. “He probably only stopped after he got his bars and wasn’t on the streets anymore.” He looked angry, disgusted. This man was his peer, and he was beyond a fuckup.
“Here,” Lopez said, handing me a file. “I already pulled it. I figured we would need to look into this guy.”
I took the folder and opened it, looking over his stats. Eighteen years on the force. Promoted to captain three years before. Vice for eight years. I started flipping through the pages, realizing that his file was filled with red flags. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, the file could easily get a man kicked off the force. Apparently, his connections ran deep.
I could remember looking at Martin’s file and shaking my head. He got dinged for things like being a bit rough with a set of handcuffs or forgetting to read someone their Miranda rights because he was in a hurry to get them to the station. His rap sheet looked like child’s play compared to this guy’s. And he’s Martin’s old boss.
“Was there any bad blood between Ferrel and Avery?” I asked. Just because they had worked together didn’t exactly give an airtight reason for Avery to frame him.
“Oh yeah,” Lopez said. “Avery hated him because Martin wasn’t intimidated by him. They butted heads all the time.”
I suddenly felt bad for thinking Martin was a shit bag. He was an angel compared to this guy. He was exactly the kind of guy who would do something like frame Martin and steal all that money. I scrolled through each of the pages, reading it a little closer, trying to find any connections to the current situation.
“This guy has been investigated for a bad shooting, leaving a cop and a child dead,” I read. “But he was cleared, with the express push of the District Attorney’s office.”
“Yeah. They’ve been friends for years,” Riggs commented. “I’m willing to bet Avery’s got something on him.”
“How do you get cleared from shooting a fellow cop and a kid?” Lopez wondered aloud, scowling ferociously.
“He claimed the kid had the gun, shot the cop, and when he wrestled the gun from the kid, it went off during the tussle,” the captain listed. “I was at that trial. He smirked the whole way out of the courthouse. There isn’t a decent cop within a hundred miles that wouldn’t want to see him taken down a peg.”
“He was also suspended once for hitting a suspect with his car,” I said, shaking my head. “Shit. If that were legal, I would’ve had twice the number of arrests.”
“Right.” Lopez chuckled. “Martin and I would have killed it in narcotics.”
“He’s got the commissioner on his side too,” Riggs told me. “Or at least he used to. I think he got too rough and the ties were cut after that last charge. The commissioner doesn’t need liabilities like him.”
“Why would you connect yourself with crazy shit like that?” I said, shaking my head.
“Money,” Lopez tossed out. “It doesn’t pay to be a police officer or politician without someone sticking extra dollars in your pockets.”
“That is a damn shame,” I said, shaking my head. “Sometimes, I think there are more laws broken in the system than outside the system.”
“Power can really change a person, and there’s a lot of power in that badge—and those bars.” Riggs rubbed the bridge of his nose. “It’s also supposed to come with a lot of responsibility, which is why you have the power in the first place. Sometimes I feel like one of the few that remembers that.”
“What about the rumors I’ve been hearing about Avery?” I said, turning to Lopez. “Talk around the water cooler is he fell in with a drug dealer a while back and now owes him some serious money. Thought he could do a little selling on the side and ended up getting played out on the streets. Now he owes the dealer for the stash he took to sell. This dealer apparently doesn’t give a shit that he’s a police officer.” It had sounded so crazy when I heard the story in the precinct break room that I assumed it was just bullshit. Now I wondered.
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” she said. “And if it’s true, that gives us some serious motive for the case.”
“Captain,” I said, returning my gaze to him. “We need to get Avery in here. I’m not talking about any hard interrogation. I want to ask him some generic questions about the case. You know, give him a poke. That way, if it is him, he’ll be even more desperate. If it’s him, and he thinks we’re at all onto him, he’ll make a beeline for Martin. We could possibly drive him right into our hands.” And the trap Martin and I are setting.
I hated that we might have to take care of this situation well outside of regulations. But if it really was Avery, trying to do it in the system, like a good IA officer, might be impossible. He’d twisted the system to his benefit with the cooperation of other dirty cops.
“I agree,” Riggs said. “You and me, we can take the lead on this. If Lopez is in there, it might be a bit too suspicious, though.”
“Okay then,” I said, turning to Lopez. “I’ll call you when it�
�s done and let you know what’s up.”
“Alright,” she said, looking disappointed and terribly frustrated.
“Good work, Detective,” Captain Riggs said to Lopez.
“Thank you, sir,” she nodded. “Gotta take care of my own.”
We watched Lopez leave the office, and I took a deep breath, closing Avery’s file and handing it to Riggs. He shoved it under some other paperwork, not wanting anyone to know we were checking up on Avery. He picked up the phone and dialed.
“This is Captain Riggs in homicide,” he said. “Please send Captain Avery to my office.” He paused, listening. “I just need his help on something with the Ferrel case.”
He hung up the phone and smiled at me. I was really hoping we were on to something where Avery was concerned. I needed to wrap the case up and get Martin’s name cleared. Letting the case go on for much longer without resolution not only looked bad for me, but it ramped up the danger factor of what a desperate Avery might to do to get out of trouble.
After about ten minutes, Captain Avery walked up and tapped on the door frame. He was silver-haired like Riggs, tall and polished, but his hazel eyes were sunken as if he didn’t sleep much or had a heavy burden on his shoulders. But he was all confidence as he walked in. He smiled like a car salesman and sauntered into the room, only pausing for a moment when he saw me. I could smell his cologne from a mile away, and his attitude told me he thought he was untouchable.
“Captain Avery,” Riggs said, rising and shaking his hand. “Thanks for joining us. This is Detective Cole from Internal Affairs.”
“Uh, oh.” He chuckled. “Should I call my lawyer?”
I smirked, looking down at my notes. Smarmy bastard. “Why does everyone say that when they see me?” I laughed, trying to put him at ease. “We just wanted to ask you a few questions about Detective Ferrel. Just for our case notes.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be that much help. I haven’t seen Martin since he came over here to homicide. Haven’t kept in touch, you know? Us vice guys tend not to get attached. We’re kind of a breed of our own.”