by Mark Stone
“Haul ass! We’ve got to catch him!” Roman yelled, throwing on his seatbelt.
“Thanks for pointing that out to me,” Jessie muttered sarcastically, leaving skid marks on the driveway as she squealed out of it. “I was gonna stop by the bakery before we went after him.”
“He killed her!” Roman said, grabbing ahold of the dashboard in front of him and staring at the motorcycle intently.
Traffic was heavy in Savannah today, which was more of a problem for Jessie and Roman than it could have been for Duncan. In addition to the bit of a head start the boy had on them, Duncan would also weave in and out of traffic with the motorcycle in a way that the car Jessie was driving would never be capable of. Still, the woman was a force behind the wheel, and this wasn’t her first chase. She’d get him. She had to.
“We don’t know that,” Jessie said, watching as Duncan tore across three lanes of traffic and took a hard left. “Dammit!” she muttered, slamming on the brakes and pulling a difficult turn to follow him down the side road.
“We do,” Roman said. “Trust me. He’s running. He’s guilty. I’ve been around this longer than you have, long enough to know that innocent people who have nothing to hide don’t run from the cops.”
“You might have been a cop longer than me, but I’ve seen my fair share of criminals, both with a badge and as an ADA,” Jessie reminded him. “Kids get scared and they run. It happens. Doesn’t make him a killer.”
“Maybe not, but I don’t see you slowing down,” Roman said.
Before Jessie could answer, a black car pulled out right in front of the motorcycle. He couldn’t slow down, not in this short time. Duncan slammed into the car while it was still turned sideways in the road. His bike flipped upward and the kid slid across the hood, hitting pavement on the other side and rolling a few times before he stopped.
“My God!” Jessie said, screeching to a stop and jumping out of the car. “How could that car not see us? We were the only people on the road.”
As she ran toward the car, she noticed the blacked out windows, dark enough that she couldn’t see inside.
On the other side of the car, Duncan, bruised, battered, and bleeding, stumbled to his feet. His eyes grew wide as he looked at the car, and Jessie deduced that the driver must have put the other window down.
“Mickey?” Duncan gasped. “Mickey, you promised! You told her this wouldn’t involve me! You said I wouldn’t be touched! You promised, Mickey! You pro—”
Before the kid could finish, a bullet slammed right into his chest. He fell to the ground, silent and shaking.
“No!” Jessie screamed.
As she screamed, the car turned toward her. Jessie stopped clear in her tracks. The windshield, just as black as the windows, made it impossible to see who was inside or just what this ‘Mickey’ looked like.
The engine roared and then the car came barreling toward her. Jessie would have moved, but there was no time. The car was mere feet from her. She was frozen, stuck.
Just then, she felt a push at her side. It lifted her into the air and tossed her into the grass on the side of the road. She hit hard, but she looked over and saw it was Roman. He had pushed her out of the path of the car. He had saved her, but he hadn’t saved himself.
“No!” Jessie screamed again as she realized what she was about to witness. But it was too late. Before she could move, before she could even breathe, the car struck Roman, sending him rolling over the hood and falling to the pavement unconscious.
Then it just drove off, leaving him for dead.
17
Jessie sat in the waiting room of Candler Hospital for what seemed like forever. With her head in her hands and tears dried up on her face, she couldn’t help but think about what had just happened and the horrible seconds afterward.
Once again, trying to get to the bottom of all of this had landed good people in the hospital. This time was worse, though. This time, Jessie wasn’t unconscious. She couldn’t sleep through it all, blissfully unaware of the horrible toll her actions had forced. This time, she sat awake, running her hands through her hair and thinking about Roman lying there on the road.
He did that for her. He pushed her out of the way of a car that would have plowed her over, and he took the blow himself. When she got to him after that, his eyes were closed and his leg looked twisted the wrong way. He was hurt, and now he was in surgery. All she could hope for, all she could pray for as she sat in this empty waiting room, was that he would wake up again. And hopefully that when he did, he’d be whole and okay.
Of course, Roman wasn’t the only one who got hurt in this. Duncan, that poor kid who ran away from them on a motorcycle, took a bullet to the chest. He was in surgery too, and though Jessie obviously wasn’t as close to this stranger as she was to her partner, his condition still weighed on her all the same.
That weight became considerably heftier when Duncan’s mother walked into the waiting room.
“You!” Karen shouted, catching sight of Jessie. The woman was obviously a mess. Her hair was in messy tendrils on her head and her mascara ran unchecked in dark lines down her cheeks. “You did this!”
Jessie’s heart sank as she saw the state of the woman. This was horrific. Not only did she not get the information she was after, but now this woman’s son was in grave condition. If this could get any worse, Jessie couldn’t imagine how.
“Karen,” Jessie said, standing. “I’m sorry that this happened, but—”
“You don’t get to say my name! You don’t get to talk to me!” she screamed. It was so loud that Jessie was sure a nearby hospital employee would come in. None did, though, as the woman continued. “You just stand there and listen! He is my favorite person in the whole world. He’s the one thing I did right, and you’ve nearly taken him away from me.”
“I didn’t do that,” Jessie said, ignoring Karen’s direction that she stand there quietly. “Someone in a dark car did that, someone with a gun who your son seemed to know.”
Karen’s eyes narrowed tremendously. They were nearly closed as she stepped quickly toward Jessie. “Are you blaming him? Are you actually blaming my son for what happened to him?”
“Of course not,” Jessie said. “No one deserves to be shot like that. I’m just trying to get to the truth of it, the same way I am with Lara.”
“What you did with Lara Edwards is the reason my son is here in the first place,” Karen said. “If you two would have just kept your distance, he wouldn’t have gotten scared and run off the way he did. You’re to blame here, just as much as whoever pointed that gun at him.”
Jessie took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady and her mind calm. “I know you’re upset. I’m upset too. My partner was hurt as well.”
“Good,” Karen shot back quickly. “It’s what he deserves. If I had it my way, it’d be the two of you in hospital beds and my son would walk out of here.”
That was enough. Jessie’s face hardened and her feet set firmly. “I get that you’re mad, but you don’t get to talk about my partner like that. He’s a good man, and he—”
“Roman Parks?” Karen asked, folding her arms over her chest. “I assume that’s your partner.”
“He is,” Jessie asked. “But I don’t think I told you his name.”
“You didn’t. You didn’t have to,” Karen said. “When my son ran out the way he did, he left his phone behind. I looked on the screen. There was a text there, presumably the last text he read before he went running terrified out of our home.” She shook her head. “Would you like to know what it said? It said Roman Parks is at your door. Get the hell out of there. You know what he’s capable of.”
“What?” Jessie asked, her eyes widening and her mind exploding into a mess of confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It did to my son, Detective,” Karen spat. “He’s a good, levelheaded boy, and one mention of your partner’s name sent him running for his life. So, maybe it’s you who's not making any sense.
Maybe you don’t know your partner as well as you think you do.”
Jessie blinked hard, trying to make sense of all of this. Finally, she pulled at the one thread she had, the one thing that made sense in any of this.
“Mickey,” she said.
“What?” Karen asked.
“The text on your son’s phone. Did it come from a Mickey?” Jessie asked.
The look on Karen’s face, utter shock and recognition, told Jessie all she needed to know.
“I’m not telling you anything,” Karen said quickly.
“Do you know who Mickey is?” Jessie asked. “Your son spoke to whoever was in that car. He called him Mickey. It was right before he got shot. If you know who Mickey is, you need to tell me because I’m pretty sure he’s the person who shot your son and killed Lara Edwards.”
“You-you’re trying to change the blame. You’re taking the focus off how responsible you are. But it’s not going to work. I promise you, as sure as I’m standing here, I am suing you, your entire department, and especially your partner—if he survives—within an inch of your lives. You will not get away with what’s happened to my son!”
With that, Karen turned on her heel and walked out of the waiting room.
How about that? Legal threats. That was how this day could get worse.
“She’s a lot to deal with. Sorry about that,” a voice said from behind Jessie.
Turning, Jessie saw a man with dark hair and a five o’clock shadow walking toward her. He had entered through the door behind them. She had no idea how much of that he had heard.
“She’s going through a lot,” Jessie said. “Being emotional is to be expected.”
“Don’t cut her too much slack. She’s like that when she has to send soup back at a restaurant too,” the man said.
“I take it that you’re familiar with her,” Jessie said, eyeing the man.
“As familiar as a grown man can be with his mother,” the man said.
“You must be Brendan,” Jessie said, remembering the way Karen had greeted them when they first showed up at her doorstep.
“My reputation precedes me,” Brendan said.
“She thought you owed me money,” Jessie said.
“That makes sense,” Brenden said, shrugging. “I don’t, do I?”
“You do not,” Jessie said.
“Sorry to hear about your partner,” Brendan said.
“Sorry about your brother,” she replied. “With God’s help, both of them will walk out of this.”
“Yeah,” he muttered, looking down at the floor. “You said something about Mickey.”
Jessie’s heart sped up a little. “I did. Do you know who that is?”
“Sort of,” Brendan said. “You wanna take a walk with me and we can talk?” He shook his head. “You have to promise not to hit me, though.”
“Why would I hit you?” Jessie asked, pursing her lips.
“Because,” Brendan said with a sigh. “I know my mom is blaming you guys, but I honestly think all of this might be my fault.”
18
Savannah was every bit as hot as Florida had been. In fact, as she walked along the courtyard that stretched along the south side of the hospital, Jessie thought that today, it might have been even hotter.
Of course, the woman had more things to worry about than the weather. Brendan walked beside her, keeping pace but basically shaking as he looked around at the garden. Though he had started strong, asking Jessie to go on a walk with him to explain things, the man had basically devolved into a mess the instant they began the conversation. He’d started twice, and twice he’d failed to get a complete sentence out without faltering into sobs and stammers.
The last of those attempts had been almost ten minutes ago now, and Jessie figured it was about time to give it another go.
“You okay?” Jessie asked, looking over at the man who was staring at a rosebush as they slowly passed.
Brendan swallowed, taking a deep breath and coming to a stop in front of the roses.
“Lara liked the white ones. Did you know that?” Brendan said, reaching out and cradling one of the roses with the same gentleness that one might use with fine china.
“Lara Edwards?” Jessie asked. “How well did you know her?”
“Pretty damn well,” Brendan said, blinking back tears and trying to stop the shaking in his hand. “She was a sweetheart, one of the best people I’ve ever known. I still can’t believe she’s gone, and now I might lose Duncan too.”
“I think it came from the same person,” Jessie admitted, stepping between Brendan and the rosebush. “I think the person responsible for Lara’s death is the same person who put a bullet in your brother. He’s the same person who put Roman in a hospital bed.”
“Roman Parks,” Brendan said, shaking his head. “Might as well be the boogeyman.”
“What does that mean? What does Roman have to do with any of this?” Jessie asked. “Brendan. I need you to tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t know,” the man said quickly, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I only know pieces. I tried to talk to Duncan and Lara about it. Hell, I even went to that kook Rachel, but all she kept doing was feeding me lies about Duncan and Lara’s relationship.” He shook his head hard. “They weren’t together, you know. They weren’t in love or anything. I know it for a fact.”
“And how do you know that for a fact, Brendan?” Jessie asked, trying to keep her tone flat and calming.
“Because Lara Edwards was in love with me,” Brendan said firmly. “She has been for years. Or had been, I guess.” He threw his palms up to cover his face, to cover his tears. “I always knew, but I never felt the same way. Didn’t stop me from using her, though. When she started tutoring Duncan, the two of us got close again. I guess I let her think there could be a future between us, and because she thought that, she was okay when I brought her down a path she probably wouldn’t have gone down without me.”
“What does that mean?” Jessie asked, tensing up. “What kind of path?”
He shook his head. “I’m not a perfect person.”
“None of us are,” Jessie said.
“I think I’m a little further from the goal post than most people,” he answered. “There’s a reason my mother thinks I owe everybody money. It’s because that’s what they tell her when they show up on the doorstep. That’s not the truth, though. The truth is that my job isn’t the most legal thing in the world.”
“You sell drugs,” Jessie said, putting the pieces together. “You sell drugs and you brought Lara into it.”
“I tried not to,” Brendan said. “She was a teacher, a sweet woman. She didn’t have the stomach for it. I knew that, but she loved me. She wanted to be close to me, and when the lie about her and Duncan cost her the job she loved, she totally turned on the idea of making a living on the up and up. She saw what I was doing and she wanted to get in on it.”
“And you said that was okay?” Jessie asked, anger rising up in her.
“I said we could try it and see how it works out,” Brendan said. “We were supposed to go to Sanibel Island. My contact, the person I get the drugs from, told me to leave some money I owed him in a house he owned on the island. Duncan got sick, though, and the family decided not to go. My mother would have freaked out if I went there by myself. So I sent Lara there instead. She was supposed to make the drop. It was supposed to be simple. Mickey said it would be cut and dry.”
“Mickey,” Jessie muttered. The name moved off her tongue like a curse word. “So you do know him?”
“Kind of. He’s my contact,” Brendan said. “But I’ve never met him or talked to him. Ever since I started this a couple of months ago, I’ve only ever communicated with him through texts. Still, I needed to get that money to him. Otherwise, he said his boss would make him pay, and I got the feeling he meant with fingers.”
“His boss?” Jessie asked as Edgar Salazar’s face flashed through her mind.
“Yeah,” Br
endan said. “A real hardass. Mickey told me so many horror stories about him that even Duncan knew enough to be afraid.”
“I can imagine,” Jessie said through gritted teeth. “Did you get a name for this walking monster?”
Jessie was sure what the next words out of Brendan’s mouth would be.
“Of course,” Brendan said. “Mickey’s boss was named Roman Parks.”
Well, that wasn’t what she thought she was going to hear.
As Jessie’s mouth fell open, an angry voice cut into the conversation from behind.
“There you are!” Karen said, new tears fresh on her face. “Haven’t you taken enough from me?”
Jessie, trying to get her thoughts together, muttered, “If you would just—”
“I said I was going to sue you, but now I’m going to have you arrested. I know you’re responsible for this! I know my son is gone because of you!”
“Gone?” Jessie murmured.
“Yes,” Karen said. “The doctors came out a few minutes ago. Your partner pulled through surgery just fine, but my Duncan is dead. He’s dead, and I’m going to make sure you pay for it!”
19
Jessie’s head was spinning and her chest was heavy with guilt as she walked into the room Roman had been assigned after coming out of his surgery. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Duncan, the kid she had just come to question, was dead. Judging by what his brother Brendan told her, he was innocent too. He hadn’t killed Lara. He hadn’t even been romantically involved with her. That had also been Brendan, and judging by what she saw on the road where Duncan was shot, she believed Mickey was responsible for all of this. Now, she just had to figure out who the hell that was.
Blinking hard and taking stock of Roman’s room for the first time, Jessie saw her partner lying there. He was unconscious and bandaged around his chest, his left leg, and a little across his forehead. The sight of him sent her stomach into nervous twists and brought tears to her eyes. She couldn’t succumb to either of those things now, though. Crying or throwing up wouldn’t help anything. Jessie needed to be steady. She needed to do her job. Otherwise, all of this would have been for nothing. Everything they had been through would have just been a waste.