by Laura Snider
24
Katie
December 13th – 6:00 a.m.
The dogs outside the shelter barked as Katie stepped out of her cruiser. They gathered along the fence line of their kennels, baring their teeth, their hackles raised. It was not exactly a welcoming committee. Then she noticed a flash of black followed by a flash of white. Two familiar faces dashing back and forth along the fence line. A black-and-white border collie and a red merle Australian shepherd yipping and barking in the back kennel.
“Finn and Princess,” Katie said to herself.
She had gone back to Ashley’s house several times looking for the dogs, but they were gone. She was worried that they had run away or that someone had stolen them. Fortunately, it was neither. Someone had brought them to the shelter. Maybe it was Tom.
She walked around the other kennels, heading straight toward Ashley’s dogs. “Hey, guys,” she said, crouching down in front of them. She fished in her pocket and tossed a couple of treats to them. Finn caught his midair and swallowed it whole. Princess allowed hers to land in front of her, catching it beneath her snow-white paws before daintily picking it up and chewing. Katie stuck her hand through the bars, petted them both, then stood.
A glance at her watch told her that it was time to go inside. It was 6:00. The facility was just opening. The gravel drive crunched beneath her feet. Tension made its way into her shoulders as she approached the door. She took several careful, calming breaths before stepping inside.
Katie recognized the girl behind the front desk. She’d been there when Katie had come with Ashley. She had not been very welcoming to Katie back then, and she doubted that today would be any different. The girl’s nose was once again buried in a book. Katie squinted to read the title. The Children of Blood and Bone. It seemed like an ominous sign.
Katie cleared her throat.
“We aren’t open for adoptions yet,” the girl said without looking up.
Katie could not remember her name. She had no problem with faces, but names escaped her. Was it something that started with a K? Kaylee…Kimmy…Kayla…Keisha. That was it. Keisha.
“Good morning, Keisha,” Katie said.
Keisha looked up in surprise. She lowered her book slowly. “It was a good morning.”
“Do you remember me?”
“I always do.” Keisha studied Katie. There was a spark of recognition, but Keisha had not yet placed Katie as the officer that had come in with Ashley.
“I’m Ashley Montgomery’s friend.”
Keisha’s eyebrows rose, and she chuckled. She studied Katie for another second, then nodded, almost imperceptibly, before setting her book down. “You must think I’m stupid.”
“Umm, what?” She had not expected warmth, but Keisha’s outright hostility caught her off guard.
“I mean, seriously.” Keisha swiveled on her stool. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that? You were in here, what was it, two days ago?”
Had it only been two days since Ashley and Katie were walking dogs? Back when Katie still hated Ashley. So much had changed since then.
“Something like that.”
“That’s not all that long ago. I may not have the best memory, you know, because I’m black and probably on drugs, right?” Keisha said it as an accusation.
Katie opened her mouth to protest, but Keisha interrupted her before she could get a word in edgewise.
“But believe me, I can remember two days. And I know Ashley. I’ve known her for years. You two are not friends. From what I can recall, she despises you, and you were following her around.”
Katie swallowed hard. How could she explain herself? She could not say, Why, yes, you are absolutely right. Ashley did hate me then, and she hates me now, too. But we were friends for at least five hours one day. It sounded insane.
“I know you don’t trust me,” Katie said.
“That’s an understatement.”
“But I know you care about Ashley. You want to help her. So do I.”
Keisha threw her head back in a theatrical but humorless laugh. “Oh, now that’s just funny. Since when do cops help defendants? Or defense attorneys? I’ve been alive for sixteen years, which, I know, isn’t a lot. But I’ve had plenty of interactions with the po-po, and I’ve never seen a cop try to help anyone from my side of the tracks.”
A flash of irritation ran up Katie’s spine. Keisha acted like officers cared nothing for justice and only for convictions. “Police officers solve crimes.” Katie did not like the words cop or po-po. They cheapened her profession.
Keisha quirked an eyebrow.
“And that’s what I’m doing here. Solving two murders. I don’t think Ashley did it. My job is to find out who did.”
“Okay,” Keisha said, leaning back in her chair. She set her jaw and crossed her arms. Her body language was clear; she did not believe Katie.
“For the sake of argument, let’s pretend that you believe me.”
“All right. For the sake of argument. Let’s pretend that you want to help my friend. What do you want from me?”
Katie smiled. It was not a large concession. But at least Keisha was hearing her out. “I need to know Ashley’s dog-walking schedule.”
“Why?” Keisha said with a laugh. “So you can jam her up? Knock out a possible alibi? Nah.” Keisha shook her head. “I’m not helpin’ you with that.”
“Just listen to me.” Katie blew out an exasperated breath. This was going to be a lot harder than she had thought.
“Maybe you should focus less on Ashley and more on this Elsberry chick.”
Katie furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, not to do your job for you or anything, but why was that Elsberry lady at either murder scene? Isn’t she, like, a respectable lady? I read the papers, and I thought she had a kid. Where the hell was the kid, and why was a respectable white woman in a dark alley—or anywhere, for that matter—at midnight?”
“Ummm.”
“I may be from the north side of town, but I know how to use a computer.” She nodded to an old desktop Dell in front of her. “I looked at the complaints against Ashley in the electronic filing system. Didn’t that Elsberry woman find Von Reich’s body three hours after he died? How did she see Ashley near the scene at midnight but also find the body three hours later? What was she doing all that time? Runnin’ in circles? I mean, seriously, if you want to find answers, stop lookin’ in the wrong direction.”
Katie opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. It was a good point. Erica claimed she had been jogging. It was possible that she could have passed the scene at the beginning of her run, saw Ashley, and then found the body when she returned near the end. But that would have been a three-hour run. Something only marathoners did. And Erica was no distance runner.
“I’ll follow up on that,” Katie finally said. “But can you answer my question? Was Ashley here to walk dogs the morning of December tenth?”
Keisha shook her head. “You check on Erica’s alibi first. Come back with that information, and maybe I’ll tell you. Information for information. Fair trade.”
Katie sighed. “We are on the same side here. Why are you making this so difficult?”
“Oh, don’t even. If I had a dime for every time a cop told someone I know they were ‘on the same side’ or ‘looking for the truth,’ or ‘let me help you,’ and it resulted in my friend getting jammed up. Well, I wouldn’t be workin’ here anymore, that’s for sure. I’d be a goddamn millionaire.”
“Okay.”
“What I mean is, you think we are cool. I don’t know that we are. Until I do, I’m not tellin’ you anything.”
“And you want me to prove my loyalty by giving you information?”
Keisha nodded. “Stuff that will help Ashley.”
“But I’m going to tell Ashley everything I learn in my investigation anyway.”
Keisha shrugged. “I don’t trust cops.”
“Fine,” Katie said, gritting
her teeth.
Keisha’s petulance was an irritation, but part of Katie had to respect it. The girl was sixteen years old, working full-time while attending high school. It was a difficult way of life; Katie knew from experience. Katie nodded and made her way toward the door.
“Oh, and one other thing,” Keisha said.
Katie stopped and looked over her shoulder.
“Make that little boy cop stop messin’ with my neighbors.”
Katie turned. “Who?”
“Last time you were here. I told you there was a cop sittin’ outside my apartment building. He’s harassing us. Make him stop.”
“I’m not sure that I know which officer you’re talking about.”
“Officer what’s-his-name,” Keisha said and then snapped her fingers. “Young. Brown hair. Sorta good-lookin’.”
“Officer Jackie?”
“That’s him. Tell him to quit fuckin’ with us.”
Katie sighed. “I’ll try. I can’t promise anything.”
“That’s the deal. You get him out of my neighborhood, and you bring me information that can help Ashley. Otherwise, I’m not tellin’ you anything.”
“Fine.”
Katie pushed the door open and stepped out into the bitter cold. She did not like bargaining with a sixteen-year-old, but she also did not find Keisha’s requests unreasonable. Keisha was from a part of town that many police officers did not care much about. But maybe it was time for that to change. If Officer Jackie was harassing Keisha’s neighbors, Katie could put a stop to it. What was the harm in that?
25
Katie
December 13th – 6:00 p.m.
The sun dipped below the horizon, and the streetlamps popped to life. The downtown Christmas lights soon followed. Illuminated bells and stars clung to light poles, siphoning light like leeches. Katie watched the transformation from day to night through the window beside her cubicle at the police station. Christmas was not an easy time of year for her.
She wondered what Ashley was doing at that moment. Christmas could not be easy for her either. There were so many differences between Katie and Ashley, but they suffered from the same type of debilitating loss. Ashley had lost her mother and the respect of Brine. Katie had lost her parents, albeit in a very different way, and she had been forced to move away from Des Moines. She could not say she knew how Ashley was feeling, but she had enough experience to make an educated guess. And it was not good.
The courthouse clock tower began chiming. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Six o’clock. It was time for shift change. Katie powered her laptop down and rose from her seat. She yawned and stretched, lacing her fingers together and lifting her arms up toward the ceiling.
“How was your day?” someone asked from behind her.
Katie dropped her arms and whirled. She had thought that she was alone. “Rookie,” she said and placed a hand against her chest. A futile attempt to calm her racing heart. “You scared me.”
Officer Jackie flashed a crooked smile. “Sorry.” His mannerisms did not seem all that apologetic. “You know,” he said, taking a step closer to her, “you don’t have to call me that.” He spoke in just above a whisper, his voice low and husky.
“I know I don’t have to do anything. By the way, how’s the head, rookie?”
Officer Jackie shrugged. He was embarrassed about the injury. Now that Officer Jackie had recovered, George and the other male officers teased him mercilessly, pretending to faint every time he came into a room.
She grabbed her coat from the back of her chair and swung it around her shoulders. “I was just on my way out.”
Officer Jackie’s eyes followed her every movement. Even though she kept her back turned, she could feel his gaze crawling along her skin, traveling up her spine, like a column of fire ants.
“Will we ever work the same shift?” Officer Jackie asked. They had always been on opposite shifts. She worked days from 6:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. He worked nights.
Katie shrugged, but she hoped not. There was something about him that made her uncomfortable. Especially when they were alone. “All right, well,” Katie said as she made her way toward the door, “have a good night.”
“You too,” he said.
Katie could feel his unblinking gaze follow her until she was out the door. She issued a heavy sigh of relief, got into her police cruiser, and put the car into gear. Her end-of-the-day autopilot kicked in, and she headed toward her house. Then her phone rang, pulling her back to herself.
“Hello?” she said.
“Are you still meeting me outside The Apartments?” George asked.
“The Apartments” was the actual name of an apartment complex. It was north of the courthouse by several blocks, at the corner of Sixth Street and North Central Avenue. It was in a rundown area called the Flats. Sixth Street was the dividing line, where respectable Brine morphed into the Flats. One side held progress, the other decay.
“Yeah,” Katie said. She whipped a U-turn and headed toward the Flats. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Katie and George met at a Kum and Go gas station, just across North Central Avenue from The Apartments. Katie left her police cruiser parked and locked behind the Kum and Go building and hopped into George’s truck. It was his off-duty vehicle, dirt brown and rusted out above the wheels.
“Now, what exactly are we doing here?” George asked.
“We are watching to see if Officer Jackie truly is harassing the residents, like Keisha said.”
“Okay,” George said. “But why?”
He put his truck in gear and drove to a parking spot facing the apartment complex. The Apartments was an old brick building, built in the 1930s. The windows were original to the structure. A couple of them were broken and covered with cardboard and tin foil.
“Because it’s wrong. Officer Jackie should not be harassing people just because he can. It’s an abuse of power. We need to convince him to stop. That kind of behavior breeds anger toward law enforcement. And it makes things worse for all officers.”
“Would you like a soapbox for that speech?” George said, chuckling to himself.
Katie punched him in the shoulder. “Shut up.”
“Ow.” George grabbed his shoulder and feigned injury. He groaned and dropped forward, drooping over the steering wheel.
“Stop it,” Katie hissed.
Surprisingly, he did. George froze, his gaze focused straight ahead.
“What is it?” Katie followed his line of sight.
“He’s here.”
Katie and George ducked down. Officer Jackie could not identify George’s off-duty truck, but he would recognize their faces.
“So he is,” Katie agreed. Part of her was surprised. She had not realized it, but somewhere deep inside her mind, she’d hoped that Keisha had been lying about Officer Jackie. Although, she should not get too ahead of herself. Officer Jackie was there, but Keisha could have exaggerated his bad behavior. There was nothing wrong with parking out front of an apartment complex. The street was a public place.
Officer Jackie shut off the engine to his police cruiser. He did not get out.
“What’s he doing?” Katie wondered. It was like he was waiting for something. Or someone.
“Dunno,” George said. “I didn’t bring binoculars.”
“We aren’t that far away.” They were close enough to see what Officer Jackie was doing if he got out of his car, but they could not see into the vehicle.
Nothing happened for a few minutes. Nobody left or entered the apartment building.
George’s stomach growled. “We should have brought pizza.”
“Oh, chill out. You aren’t going to starve in the next hour.”
“I could.”
Katie opened her mouth to respond, but then someone came out of the building. It was a skinny white male. He wore an expensive-looking jacket and jeans. His back was to them. The man headed down the sidewalk. He was walking quickly, like a speed walker. He lo
oked in both directions when he reached the street, then back over his shoulder.
“Is that Christopher Mason?” Katie thought he was in jail. Brooke must have posted his bail. Again. Just like all the times before. Katie hoped not. She truly thought this time would be different for Brooke.
“Looks like him to me.” George rustled through the center console and pulled out a half-eaten bag of Doritos. He popped a chip in his mouth. He chewed slowly, then swallowed and made a face. “Stale,” he said, before tossing the bag aside.
“What is he doing?” Katie murmured, her eyes still on Christopher.
Christopher jogged across Sixth Street, straight toward the police cruiser. He turned his back to the cruiser so he could watch his surroundings as he bent down. Officer Jackie leaned out the door and began talking. They were too far away for Katie to read their lips. Christopher reacted poorly to whatever Officer Jackie said. He spat on the ground and started gesturing wildly with his hands. As he did, something silver slipped out of his pocket and landed on the pavement.
“Did you see that?” Katie said.
George nodded.
Christopher, however, was too agitated to notice that he had dropped something. Officer Jackie did not see it either.
Christopher’s voice rose to a shout. “I did what you told me to do. I’m done. I’m out.”
Officer Jackie shook his head. Katie could not be sure, but she thought she could make out Officer Jackie’s words: “Not yet.”
Everything about the scenario seemed consistent with an officer working on a controlled buy with a confidential informant. Katie did not think Christopher was working with the police department as a CI. But, then again, Chief Carmichael did not keep her apprised of every assignment.
“So, that’s it,” George said. He put the truck in reverse but kept his foot on the brake. “Christopher’s a CI. Nothing nefarious.”
“Wait a minute.” Katie moved the shifter back to park. “Let’s see what he does after he’s done talking to Christopher.”
Christopher and Officer Jackie talked for another minute or two, then the conversation ended abruptly, and Christopher jogged across the street and disappeared back into the apartment complex. Christopher did not pick up whatever it was that he had dropped in the street.
