Unsympathetic Victims: A Legal Thriller (Ashley Montgomery Book 1)

by Laura Snider

  It was a mess, but not quite as devastating to her investigation as she would have thought. Before they were called out to the murder scene, she had been able to execute the search warrant on the account that transferred the $100,000 to Christopher. It belonged to Clement Farms. Elizabeth Clement’s parents’ farm company. Katie had spoken with both of Elizabeth’s parents, and they told her that they had not authorized any transfer in any amount to Christopher Mason, let alone $100,000.

  When asked who else had signatory rights to the account, they told Katie that there were only two others. Their daughter, Elizabeth Clement, and their nephew, John Jackie. Katie had been shocked to hear that Elizabeth and John were related, although it did explain why Elizabeth continued to protect Officer Jackie. It also explained John’s blackmailing scheme. He needed money to replace what he had stolen.

  Why kill Von Reich and Petrovsky? Katie wondered.

  John Jackie had not even been involved in either of those investigations. He had been a jailer when both of their criminal offenses occurred. He hadn’t been hired by the police department for another year. There was no real reason for him to want either of them dead other than a philosophical eye for an eye motive, but even that seemed a bit over John Jackie’s head.

  “Did you see this?” George called, pulling Katie out of her thoughts.

  Katie rose to her feet, but she did not look away from the body. As if the longer she stared, the more the body would reveal. Tell me your secrets, Katie thought. But she was dealing with Christopher Mason. He wouldn’t talk while alive, and he certainly wouldn’t now.

  “Katie?”

  Katie tore her eyes away from Christopher and jogged over to George. He was near the line of trees running along the north side of Ashley’s property. George had gloves on his hands. He held a black backpack open for one of the younger officers who was taking pictures.

  “What is it?” Katie asked.

  “Drugs. A whole lot of them.” George angled the backpack so that Katie could see inside.

  The bag was packed to the brim with narcotics. Katie whistled. “There has to be ten or twenty thousand dollars’ worth of drugs in there.”

  George nodded. “But the killer left the bag here. We’re going to send it off for fingerprints.”

  “Do you think it was a drug deal?”

  George shook his head. “Christopher Mason had a couple hundred bucks in his pocket. If the killer wanted money, that cash would be gone. Same thing goes for the drugs. Nobody leaves several thousand dollars’ worth of drugs out in the cold.”

  They spent the next hour gathering evidence from the scene. Bagging, tagging, and securing for transport. Katie was in a hurry, she wanted to check up on Ashley, but evidence was everywhere. It was all too messy. Not at all like the other two murders. Tire marks in the gravel driveway. Drugs. A backpack with fingerprints. A knife was even found at the property line.

  The knife they recovered reminded Katie of the switchblade Christopher had dropped outside The Apartments. “Hey, George,” Katie asked as she got into the passenger side of his cruiser. They were done processing the scene.

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you ever get results back from the lab on that knife we sent in? The one Mason dropped.”

  “The report just came through on my email.”

  George tapped a couple of buttons and then tossed his phone to Katie. It was open to a laboratory report. Katie sucked in a deep breath and began to read.

  One item tested, (hereinafter Item #1), a switchblade knife with a black-and-silver handle, submitted by Officer George Thomanson of the Brine Police Department. Three DNA profiles were lifted from Item #1. Two separate profiles were developed from trace blood samples. The first sample was found near the blade open lock. The DNA lifted from this location matched the known profile of one, Victor Petrovsky. The second DNA sample was found around the stop pin. The DNA lifted from the second location matched the known profile of one, Arnold Von Reich.

  The final DNA profile was developed from sweat found on the outside handle of the switchblade. The DNA lifted from the third location matched the known profile of one, Christopher Mason.

  Results posted by Amanda Brinzaar, criminalist.

  Katie nearly dropped the phone. They had their killer. Christopher Mason. It was just as she expected, but they could not interview him now.

  “Another dead end,” Katie said with a groan.

  “Not exactly,” George said, a twinkle in his eye. “We need to track Christopher’s most recent movements. An informant called a little bit ago and said she saw Christopher with Mikey Money. She said they were at a drug house at the corner of Sixth and North Main Street early this morning.”

  Katie frowned. She wasn’t sure where he was going with his thought process. “Do you think Christopher got the bag of drugs from Mikey Money?”

  George shrugged. “Makes sense.”

  “Let’s pay him a visit, then. See if he’s willing to talk.” Katie said this without much conviction.

  She was frustrated. She had been so sure that the knife would solve everything, but it only left more questions. They drove straight to Mikey’s Tavern and parked out front. There were no other cars in the small parking lot. They got out of the vehicle and approached the front door. It was locked. The bar would not open for another couple of hours. Katie leaned close to the glass, peering through. She knocked on the glass, several hard bangs with a closed fist.

  “What are you doing?” George asked.

  “I see movement inside.”

  A few minutes later, an old man with a stooped back and a furry mustache opened the door.

  “What can I do you for?” the old man said. His eyebrows were giant white bushes hanging over tired eyes.

  “Is Mikey here?” George asked.

  The old bartender nodded. “Come on in and have a seat.” He motioned toward one of the high-top tables.

  Katie and George sat, and the bartender disappeared into the back. Moments later, Mikey emerged.

  Mikey’s expression was calm, unruffled. He had a white apron tied around his thin waist. He wiped his hands on a towel, then slung it over his shoulder. “What can I do for you, officers?”

  “Have you heard about Christopher Mason?”

  Something flashed in Mikey’s eyes, but it passed before Katie could decipher the emotion.

  Mikey grunted. “Christopher didn’t get himself into trouble, did he?”

  “He got himself into a bit more than trouble,” George said. “Christopher is dead.”

  “He’s what?” Mikey took a step back. “What did that stupid white boy do?”

  “That’s what we were hoping you could answer. We heard that he was with you.” George paused for effect. “And there were a lot of drugs on him.”

  Mikey swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple slowly bobbed down, then bounced back up. “Come on, guys. I’ve got kids.”

  “Mikey, this isn’t about you. At least not right now. I’m not trying to jam you up on drug charges. I just need to know what happened to Christopher,” George said.

  Mikey’s shoulders relaxed, albeit only slightly. “I was with him, but he left with a cop.”

  “Wait, what?” Katie shook her head. Nobody had been dispatched to the corner of Sixth and North Main. She’d already checked the police logs. There was no legitimate reason for an officer to be there. “Which officer?”

  Mikey shrugged. “Some dude in plain clothes. Young guy with brown hair. He showed up and said he needed to talk to Christopher. Christopher got in his car, and they drove away. That’s the last I saw him.”

  “Was it Officer Jackie?” Katie asked.

  “Hell if I know. I’ve never seen the guy before.”

  Katie pulled out her phone and found a close-up picture of Officer Jackie. He was in uniform, fresh faced and smiling right after he had graduated from the Law Enforcement Academy. She showed it to Mikey. “Is this the guy?”

  Mikey nodded. “That’s him.�
��

  Katie and George exchanged a look. If Mikey was telling the truth, Officer Jackie was more involved than they suspected.

  That was a problem. Especially for Ashley, considering John Jackie was the interim jail administrator. A person with unfettered access to her. He’d assaulted Ashley once. That footage would be all over the news at any moment. What would happen then?

  “Shit,” Katie and George said in unison.

  Mikey cocked his head in confusion, but neither George nor Katie paid him any further attention. They turned and sprinted out the door.

  43

  Ashley

  December 17th – 5:00 p.m.

  The footsteps came fast. A run. No, a sprint. Heavy footfalls that pounded against the cement. They grew louder with each step. Heading straight toward her. Ashley did not need to look to see who they belonged to. But she couldn’t look away either. It was like watching a bullet approach in slow motion. Death and disaster. There was nothing for it but to watch.

  Officer Jackie rounded the corner. His eyes were wild. Animalistic.

  Ashley backed away from the bars. She wrapped her arms around herself and sank into the corner, trying to make herself as small as possible. She acted on instinct. She knew it was no use. He was coming for her.

  When he reached her cell, he gripped the bars with both hands. “Get over here,” he growled.

  Not a chance, Ashley thought but did not say. Now that he was closer, she could see him more clearly. His hair was a mess. Like he had slept in his car. His clothing was disheveled, and there were splatters of blood on his shirt. Ashley shivered.

  Officer Jackie rattled the bars. “I said, get over here!” His voice rose to a shout.

  Ashley shook her head and pressed her back harder against the cold cement wall. She imagined it swallowing her whole. “You’re covered in blood.”

  He looked down at his shirt, then looked up at her, a maniacal grin stretching across his face. “So I am.”

  “Whose is it?”

  He reached into his pocket and fumbled with his keys. Flipping from one to the next, searching for the key that would grant him access to her. “You know Christopher Mason.”

  “Christopher?”

  “I didn’t have his name on that little list I left you, but I should have.” John Jackie paused on a key, tried to fit it into the lock, then went back to flipping through keys.

  “List?” Ashley’s mind raced.

  “Yes,” John Jackie said impatiently. “Von Reich, that one was crossed off because Christopher had already killed him. Then you, then Petrovsky. You remember, right?”

  “You left that note on my doorstep?”

  Officer Jackie chuckled. A dark rumbling rolling out from his chest. “The one and only. Although, I didn’t intend to kill any of you. Christopher was supposed to do the dirty work. But then he started getting difficult. So…” He shrugged as if to say, Here we are.

  Ashley’s hands shook. “Why are you doing this? What did I do to you?”

  Officer Jackie looked up to meet her gaze. Some of the feral nature had dissipated, but not enough. Murder still lurked in those black cesspools of hate. Ashley looked away. He wouldn’t answer her. He would find the right key soon, and she would die without knowing why.

  He tried another key, shook his head, then tried a third. This one fit perfectly and turned with ease. “Because,” Officer Jackie said, his tone low and dangerous, “you made my cousin look like an idiot.”

  “What?” Ashley tried to scramble back farther, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped.

  He took a step inside Ashley’s cell. “Elizabeth. You made a fool of her. She was going to lose her job. She was going to lose the election.”

  Ashley’s mind whirred at the revelation. Officer Jackie was related to Elizabeth Clement? “I don’t understand.” Her thoughts were sluggish. She was malnourished and nursing a concussion from Jackie’s last assault.

  “Von Reich’s acquittal and Petrovsky’s release.”

  Ashley shook her head. “It wasn’t personal.”

  “Everything is personal,” Officer Jackie said as he loomed over her.

  She wanted to deny it, but it was no use. He was far past logical reasoning. He was out for blood.

  He crouched to her level. They were eye to eye. “And this is where I even the score. Where I cross off the last name on that little list.”

  Ashley squeezed her eyes shut. It was over. She had not eaten for days. She was too weak to overpower anyone.

  He sprang at her. His hands gripped her hair. He yanked. Ashley screamed, and he let go. The sudden release caused her head to snap back and crash against the wall. Her vision darkened at the edges. She was going to pass out. Maybe it was for the best.

  Her vision righted, and she attempted to crawl away. He let out a wicked laugh. He was far past the edge of sanity. He jumped on her and flipped her over, pinning her arms with his knees. Her entire body ached. He leaned forward and molded his hands around her neck. He squeezed.

  Ashley pulled an arm free and clutched at his hands, but she could not pull him away. She scratched with her nails. It made no difference. She was so tired, and he was so strong. He pressed harder and the blackness returned, seeping in slowly.

  “Get off of her!” A voice shouted from somewhere far off in the distance. Was it Katie? No. It couldn’t be. Jackie wasn’t letting anyone into the jail.

  Ashley’s lungs burned, begging for air.

  “I said, get off of her!”

  There was a thud and a grunt right before Ashley surrendered to the darkness.

  44

  Katie

  December 17th – 6:00 p.m.

  Katie’s eyes kept drifting to her phone. It sat beside her, face up, so she would know the moment a call came through. There was only one call she cared to get. And that was from Tom. He was at the hospital waiting to hear news about Ashley. Katie had pulled John Jackie off Ashley before he could kill her, but she was in bad shape. Ashley was breathing, but she was unresponsive.

  Katie had wanted to go to the hospital, but she wasn’t a doctor. There was nothing she could do to fix Ashley’s wounds. The only way she could help her friend was to hold the bastard that hurt her accountable for his actions. All of them.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” George asked. “You don’t have to. You can wait for DCI to get here. Let them take over.”

  Agents with the Iowa Division of Criminal Investigations were on their way from Des Moines. They would take over the investigation when they got there. It was necessary, since John Jackie worked for the police force. But that didn’t mean Katie was going to let them get the first crack at him.

  “Yes. I want to do this,” Katie said.

  She slammed her fist against the door and entered the interview room. John Jackie was at the far end of the conference table, his head down and his hands handcuffed behind his back. His head snapped up as she entered, but he diverted his eyes when he realized it was her.

  “John Jackie,” Katie said, dropping into a chair at the opposite end of the table from him. “I wish I could say it’s a pleasure.”

  John didn’t answer.

  “So, you and Elizabeth are cousins?”

  John nodded.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone about your familial connection? It isn’t like you would lose your job. Family can work in law enforcement together. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  John shrugged.

  “Come on, John. I don’t see why you’re covering up Elizabeth’s messes anymore.” This was purely a hunch. She had nothing solid to connect Elizabeth to anything John was doing other than her signatory rights to her parents’ business account, but that was tenuous at best. “You’re in shit so deep that there’s no point in protecting her. Otherwise, you’ll go down on a life sentence and she’ll come out smelling like roses.”

  John’s head dropped. He sat li
ke that for a long moment, then he began to speak. “I was the black sheep of the family. Everyone else is so smart. But not me. I struggled in school. I barely made it through high school. College wasn’t an option. So, when Elizabeth offered to get me a job at the jail here in Brine, well, I jumped at it. I grew up in Chicago, so I wasn’t excited about the small-town thing, but it turned out all right.”

  Katie scribbled notes. The conversation would be recorded, but she wasn’t going to count on technology alone. This case was far too important for that. She needed backups. She would not lose this case on a technicality.

  “When I got here, everything was fine. I worked for the jail, and Elizabeth was nice to me for the first time in my life. I should have been suspicious, because she started treating me as her personal thug. Especially when I was offered the job with the police department.”

  “And you did her dirty work?” Katie asked.

  “She gave me my job. She could take it away. She made that very clear.”

  “So how did you get involved in this stuff with Von Reich, Petrovsky, and Ashley?”

  “It’s an election year. You know that. Elizabeth was getting a lot of pushback and concern about Petrovsky’s release and Von Reich’s acquittal. People wanted them gone. Elizabeth’s job—and my job, by extension—was in jeopardy. And it wasn’t any great loss to the community. Both Petrovsky and Von Reich were scumbags.”

  Katie nodded and motioned for him to continue, encouraging his monologue. She wanted him to get into a rhythm of spilling his guts. She didn’t want him to think, to filter his words, to hold anything back.

  “Elizabeth also thought it was our moral obligation to get them off the streets for good. To protect their future victims from them.”

  Naturally, Katie thought. Vigilantes with hearts of gold.

  “We hired Christopher Mason to kill them. We paid him fifty grand for each murder. We didn’t have the cash ourselves, we work government jobs after all, so we borrowed it from Clement Farms.”