by C. M. Sutter
I turned before walking out. “I hate to say this, but it’s been weighing on my mind.”
Lutz looked concerned. “What has?”
“Did we inadvertently cause Deidra’s death?”
“Because you were surveilling the area and they figured it out?”
Frank huffed. “Knock it off. If that were the case, then the PD would get blamed for every murder in the city. We’re the good guys, McCord. Those killers murdered Eileen and Deidra because they’re drug-dealing pieces of shit who only care about themselves and the money they bring in. We have a job to do, and you, if anyone, know how drug dealers think. Now let’s get Jennifer behind bars so she’ll cough up those lowlifes.”
I let out a long breath then pulled open the door. “You’re right. Just feeling bad for Jeff and Paul right now.”
I walked silently beside Frank as we made our way to the bull pen. I wasn’t good at the waiting game, and without an address for Jennifer or the names and addresses of her drug-dealing killer friends, we were stuck in a holding pattern.
At my desk, I called our narcotics division and spoke to Sergeant Keith Finley, my old boss. “Hey, Keith, it’s McCord.”
“Jesse, how’s it going? We need to shoot the shit over a beer soon.”
“Sounds great and let’s plan that, but right now, I need to know the word on the street.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“We’ve got two guys, apparently in their twenties, slim and disheveled-looking according to an eyewitness, who are burglarizing pharmacies. They’re targeting opioids and antidepressants mainly, since the street value is high. They’ve also killed two innocent women in the process.”
“Jesus. It sounds like their crimes can hit every department.”
“Burglary was working it until they killed those women, and now we’re involved too. I need to know who’s dealing pharmaceuticals in the area.”
“We have a handful of informants who might know something, but have you reached out to Vice?”
“Not yet. I figured I’d get more from Narcotics. More of a direct link, you know?”
“Okay, let me ask around. Hathaway and Lemming can follow up with their informants. I’ll get back to you within the hour. Any particular area of the city?”
“They’ve burglarized the CMS Pharmacy on West Thirty-First Street, but they seem to favor areas on the southeast side.”
“Got it, and I’ll call you back soon.”
“Thanks, Keith, and if I don’t pick up, try my cell.”
Ten minutes later, I reached across my desk and picked up the ringing phone off the base. Pinching it between my ear and shoulder, I said hello, slid a sheet of paper and a pen closer, and expected it to be the sergeant again.
“Jesse, it’s Lutz. The broadcast about Jennifer is airing in five minutes. Tell everyone to head to the lunchroom.”
“Got it.” I hung up, grabbed my cell and notepad, and told our unit to meet in the cafeteria in three minutes.
Sitting at the table nearest the television, I waited with Frank for the broadcast to begin. With my notepad in front of me, I wanted to make sure nothing had been missed from the description I had compiled of Jennifer Tyler and her car.
I elbowed Frank as the news began. “Here we go. Hopefully, this broadcast and the millions of eyes on the street will put her in custody today.”
Frank leaned forward and watched the breaking-news segment with his chin propped on his folded hands. He chuckled when Jennifer’s image and vehicle description filled the screen. “She sure put on a show of innocence in front of us. It won’t be long now, baby girl. We’re coming for ya.” Snickers filled the room as Frank continued. “Those killers will either go underground or try to make a run for it, but let’s hope it’s the latter. I’d love to take them out in that little red shit box with the cruiser’s push bar.”
I grinned, feeling the same way. I looked at each person sitting at the table. “Who did Lutz assign to answer tip-line calls?”
Dan Moore spoke up. “That would be Willis and me for the remainder of our shift. Don’t know about the evening calls.”
“Okay, and those calls usually start pouring in right away, so we better get back.” I grabbed my notepad and returned to the bull pen.
Chapter 40
Wes fished his ringing phone out of his pocket as he neared Jesse’s neighborhood. “Now what?”
“You screwed me over, Wes! I just saw a news broadcast with my face plastered all over the screen. They even know what kind of car I drive. I have to get the hell out of Chicago, and it’s all because of you and Rory.”
“Come on, babe. Don’t act that way. You can have your car back. I’ll leave it on the street corner with the keys under the floor mat, and you can pick it up anytime you want.”
“Just like that? After two years together, you’re just ditching me? You’re such a son of a bitch.”
Wes slammed his fist against the steering wheel and pulled to the curb. “Your car will be in the fast-food parking lot at the corner of East Marquette and South Stoney Island Avenue. Now you can go to hell, Jen.”
He clicked off the call to laughter coming from Rory.
“What’s so funny?”
“Like I said, don’t waste your time getting involved with women. They’re a pain in the ass. Now we have to snag a different car.”
“Not until we check out Detective McCord’s digs.” Wes turned right on East Sixty-Ninth Street and took it several blocks to South Cregier Avenue, where he turned left. “The house is a redbrick on the right side of the street, with the garage tucked underneath according to Street View. Keep your eyes peeled.”
Rory watched out the passenger-side window as Wes drove at a snail’s pace. “I think it’s a couple of houses up the street. This is 6802.” He point at the second house on his right. “There it is. Let’s go check it out.”
“What are we going to do? Bang on his door?”
Rory waved away his comment. “Come on, chicken shit. This whole thing with wanting the Camaro was your idea, so man up and put on that ball cap.” Rory snugged his own cap over his head, fished a pair of sunglasses out of the console, and led the way up the sidewalk. He immediately noticed the doorbell camera and backed away. “Never mind. We need to leave. The entire yard is surrounded with cameras. We have to take him by surprise somewhere else.”
“Excuse me.”
Wes and Rory spun to the voice at their backs.
“Can I help you with something?” The man pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m Jesse’s neighbor, Dean.”
“Yeah, we were supposed to meet Detective McCord here. We’re looking to buy some tools he had for sale,” Wes said.
“Really? He never mentioned that to me. I can call to see if he’s on his way if you like.”
Rory took over. “Maybe Mark told us the wrong time. If you wouldn’t mind calling him, that’d be great.”
“Not a problem. Wait right here. My phone is inside.”
They watched as the neighbor disappeared into his house.
“Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Rory ran for the car and jumped into the passenger seat.
Wes did the same, climbed in behind the wheel, and floored the gas pedal. “Shit! Now that nosy neighbor is going to tell McCord we were here.”
“Then we’ll follow him after he leaves work and ambush him. He won’t have a chance to discuss too many details about us with his neighbor. For now, we have to dump the Fiesta, find another car, and conduct some business. There’s a thousand bucks coming our way at three o’clock in Washington Park.”
Chapter 41
The tip lines lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Can we get some help over here?” Willis asked. “This may be more than the two of us can handle, at least out of the gate.”
I jerked my head at Tony. “How about you and Kip helping out for an hour until the initial wave dies down?”
“Sure thing.”
Tony
and Kip set up two more positions at the back table, where the tip-line phones were located, and began taking calls.
I turned to Frank. “Hopefully, we’ll get lucky with the number of calls coming in.”
“Or we might be chasing our tails. Don’t forget, Jennifer looks like every other brunette her age. There’s nothing remarkable about her.”
I let out a puff of air and had to agree. “But there’s always the chance that somebody will spot her car.”
An hour had passed, and between Frank and me, we’d separated the leads that had possible merit from the outlandish ones. As soon as the calls died down, we planned to organize them by priority level and start the follow-up process.
My desk phone rang at two thirty, and jamming it in the crook of my neck, I answered. “Detective McCord speaking.”
“Jesse, it’s Bob. Patrol spotted Jennifer Tyler’s car in a fast-food parking lot at East Marquette Drive and South Stoney Island Avenue. They have eyes on the lot but haven’t seen her or the two men in the restaurant or the immediate area.”
“That’s only a few blocks from my house. I know exactly where it is.”
“Good, then I need you and Frank to head out and put eyes on the car. Stay a good block back and tell Patrol to leave as soon as you arrive. We don’t want to spook anyone.”
“Got it, and we’re on our way.”
I leapt from my chair. “Come on, Mills. Jennifer’s car is sitting in a fast-food restaurant parking lot across the street from Jackson Park golf course. Lutz wants our eyes on it from a distance to see who shows up.”
Frank grabbed his gear and nearly beat me out the door.
“Are we supposed to take a cruiser or a personal car?”
I shrugged as we crossed the parking lot. “Lutz didn’t say.”
Frank abruptly turned toward his truck. “Let’s take my pickup just to make sure we go unnoticed.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket as I climbed into Frank’s truck. “I’ll tell Lutz.”
According to my phone’s GPS and in current traffic, we had a fifteen-minute drive ahead of us. Patrol was told to apprehend anyone who approached the vehicle before we arrived.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that the car is there but there’s no sign of Jennifer or the guys?” Frank asked.
“Yep, completely weird unless they saw the news broadcast and abandoned the vehicle. There’s no other reason I can think of.”
We’d chosen a good spot across the street to surveil from and hunkered down after telling the officers they could leave. With the naked eye, we could see the Fiesta well enough, but the binos brought everything in much closer. If anybody approached the car, we’d have them in cuffs within seconds. Patrol was on standby in the neighborhood to transport the person or persons to our lockup if we happened to make an arrest.
Frank and I shot the shit as we watched the fast-food restaurant’s parking lot. Since we didn’t often have the luxury of downtime, it was nice to catch up with our own personal matters.
“How’s it going with you and Hanna? Planning a wedding date and the number of kids you’ll have? Pick any names yet?”
I chuckled. “You’re such an asshole. We’re taking things slowly.”
“Meaning what? Neither of you are sure you want to date the other?”
“No, we’re both pretty busy. Hell, we damn near have to make appointments to see each other. Our communication is either through two-sentence texts or a short call before I fall asleep while I’m on the phone.”
Frank rolled down his window so we could continue the conversation, stepped out of the truck, and lit a cigarette. “That’s a sucky life, McCord.”
“You’re right, but it’s real life, and I bet many other couples go through the same thing.”
He grinned and blew out a puff of smoke. “So you’re admitting you’re a couple?”
I shook my head. “Remember what I said five minutes ago?”
“That I’m an asshole?”
“Yeah—that still holds true.”
I returned my focus to the red Fiesta, this time with the binoculars pressed against my eyes. I lurched forward in the seat and yelled for Mills to get in.
“That black Impala just pulled in next to the Fiesta.”
“Son of a bitch.” He flicked the cigarette out the window and shifted into Drive. “Call for backup—hurry.”
“Yeah, I’m already on it.”
I made the call to Foxworthy and Paulson, who were patrolling Jackson Park, and told them to block the exit at the fast-food restaurant. We were heading that way, and the black Impala had just turned in and parked next to the Fiesta.
“How is it possible that we’re going to kill three birds with one stone?”
“Don’t always believe what’s in front of your eyes, Mills. It doesn’t often turn out how we think, and we have no idea who’s in the Impala or who dropped off the Fiesta.”
Frank made the light just as it was going from yellow to red, hit his blinker, and squealed the tires as he made a hand-over-hand turn of the steering wheel into the parking lot. I looked back, and the patrol car was coming up fast on our bumper. The truck screeched to a stop behind both vehicles, preventing either of them from backing out, and Foxworthy blocked the exit with his squad car.
I yelled for the driver to step out of the vehicle. Frank and I had our gun sights pointing directly at the Impala. The driver’s side door opened, and I yelled again for a show of hands. Two female hands came into view, and one finger on the right hand was adorned with a pearl-and-diamond ring.
“Jennifer Tyler, step away from the car, lock your fingers behind your head, and get down on your knees.”
She did as instructed.
Frank approached her, pulled her hands down to her back, and wrapped her wrists with cuffs. I fished my phone from my pocket, called Foxworthy, and told him to bring his squad car around to the back of the building. Jennifer Tyler was in custody, and she needed to be transported to our station.
Frank read the Miranda rights to Jennifer while I called for two tow trucks to take the vehicles to our forensic garage. With that set and Jennifer secured in the back of the squad car, I dialed Lutz’s number.
“We have Jennifer Tyler in custody, and we’re bringing her in. The Impala and the Fiesta are going to the evidence garage.”
“Nice work, guys. Has she said anything yet?”
“Nope, and we won’t push her until we get her in a box. I guarantee you, I’ll put the fear of God in that girl, and she’ll give us the names and location of her buddies before sundown.”
I hung up and scanned the area a block out, looking for anyone watching our actions, but didn’t see a soul. We would wait for the tow trucks then question Jennifer as soon as we returned to the station.
Frank guided the trucks in one at a time. We had been there for a solid half hour and took advantage of that time by eating a couple of burgers and fries. We had both missed lunch and were starving. With the vehicles secured and ready to go, we tossed our food wrappers in the receptacle along the restaurant’s driveway and pulled out. I was excited to sit across a table from Jennifer Tyler again.
Chapter 42
Rory laughed as he fanned the thousand dollars they’d just scored for a baggie of Oxy. “That was as entertaining as watching an action thriller at an IMAX theater. Who could have imagined Jen showing up at the same time the cops had eyes on the Fiesta? It’s pure magic, and the timing couldn’t have been better.”
“Yeah, funnier than shit. That was my girlfriend they just cuffed and hauled away.”
Rory swatted the air. “Not anymore, buddy. She’s a thing of the past. Now it’s just you, me, and this puke-colored piece-of-shit Corolla. We’ll follow McCord later and take out him and his car.”
Wes snickered. “Have a plan for that?”
“Not yet, but I’ll come up with something. You just better hope your ex-girlfriend keeps her mouth shut about us.”
Wes fidgeted in the
passenger seat. “She doesn’t know we’re crashing at Mark’s house.”
“You’re lucky. Now find some paper and a pen.”
Wes riffled through the glove box and console. He came up with a pen and a receipt for some tires. “How’s this?”
“Better than nothing. Now write down the make, model, and color of the truck that oversized gorilla had. He was the guy from CMS who walked over to the fast-food restaurant and stared out through the window. Obviously, he’s a cop too.”
“Maybe they’re partners,” Wes said.
“Maybe. We’ll hang out near the police department and watch for McCord to leave later. That’s when we’ll ambush him.”
Wes wore a nervous expression. “You know damn well he’ll have his sidearm with him.”
“Stop worrying. We have a gun, too, and he doesn’t know what we look like or what we’re driving. I have everything under control.”
Rory shifted into Drive and got in line at the drive-through restaurant.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“We’ll have a long wait ahead of us before McCord leaves work. Do you want to eat or not?”
Wes kept silent.
Chapter 43
I could barely wait for the truck to come to a complete stop. I pulled the door handle and jumped out before Frank shifted into Park.
“Jesus, Jesse, do you have a death wish or something?”
I waved him off as I crossed the lot. “You were going two miles an hour.”
Entering through the evidence garage brought us to a second door that led to the jail wing. We signed in and approached Bill.
“Where’s the girl?”
“Leo is processing her into the system. It’ll take another five to ten minutes.”
“Okay, put her in box one and then call my cell when she’s settled. We’ll be in the garage.”
Frank and I returned to the evidence garage as the Fiesta was being unloaded. The tow truck behind it idled outside the doors as it waited to drop off the Impala.
