Killing With Kings
Page 7
I rummaged through the pile of empty fast-food wrappers and coffee cups. There was a stack of wedding invitation samples and a pair of running shoes, but no EpiPen. “Any luck back there?”
“Nothing. I’ll check the trunk,” Nowak offered.
I poked my head up. It was only a matter of time before someone would be in the lot.
I walked back to Nowak. “Anything?”
She sighed. “Nothing but jumper cables, a spare tire, and junk. So, no. But we gotta keep looking. It’s gotta be here somewhere. It has to be.”
“But it’s not.”
“Do you think it’s still at the bar?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I knew I’d go over to the bar next. Tension settled in my upper body, and I rolled my shoulders back. “We’re done here.”
“I don’t want to give up. I can’t. I just can’t.” She closed the trunk.
“But we have to.”
“Maybe you have to quit. But I don’t have to. This is about my uncle’s death.”
“I get it. But can you trust me on this?” I knew I was going to pursue my search for the EpiPen. “It’ll work out. You’ll get answers about what happened to your uncle. Maybe not right now, right here, but you will.”
“Can you promise me that?” she wanted to know.
“You have my word on it.”
“Fine. I heard you’re a man of your word.” She nodded. “You know, we make a great team.”
“There is no we.” I pressed the lock-all button and shut the door. “If anyone asks, you know nothing about this.”
“Got it.”
She grabbed the slim jim and went to her car.
As I neared my vehicle around the corner, I heard my name called out. It startled me and made my heart jump a beat.
“José, I thought you’d be gone by now.” McFalls walked up next to me.
Had he seen me digging through his car earlier?
I stopped and thumbed toward my car. “I’m leaving now.”
“Good. I’m heading to look at wedding venues. If it were up to me, we’d just go to the justice of peace and be done with it.”
“I bet.” I smiled.
“Have a good vacation. I heard you’re going to Miami to visit your family.”
“I leave in a few days.”
“Good.” McFalls stopped and then waved a hand. “Oh, and did you hear a car was broken into here last night? You’d think that a precinct parking lot would be the safest place in the city.”
I grinned. “You’d think so.”
Chapter 14
After leaving the precinct, I went back to my house. I needed to concentrate a bit on mundane tasks like cleaning and laundry to clear my head. I shoved dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. Taking a stack of newspapers, I piled them on my back deck for recycling. My overflowing laundry basket needed attention, so I started a load.
When my house looked somewhat decent again, J.K. Growling and I took a walk in Forsyth Park. All the while, I thought of what I could do about the whole EpiPen debacle. I couldn’t let it go. The EpiPen and the autopsy results were both critical in finding out what happened to Ray. Hopefully, the EpiPen had been faulty and that had caused Ray’s death, so…case closed.
I remembered well the promise I’d made to Nowak and Bezu to find out what had happened to Ray. I always kept my agreements.
My phone rang, and I absent-mindedly hit answer.
“You said if there was anything you could do, to ask you,” Nowak said.
Something told me I’d regret making that offer. “Sure. What can I do for you?”
“Since we didn’t find the EpiPen in McFalls’ car, I have to keep looking. That’s where you come in. Please help me find it.”
“No way.” Even though I had planned to look for it myself, I didn’t want her involved.
“Please. I know my uncle was a bit of a jerk to you. I’m sorry for that. But he was my uncle. He was really good to me.” She sounded smaller with each word. “I can’t walk away without knowing what really happened. Plus, the police therapist I saw this morning says I need closure.”
“Listen, I know this is really a hard time for you and you’re grieving.” I paused for a moment. “Just give yourself some time. As far as the injector, it’s best to move on and let that go. The ME’s calling it accidental death.”
Nowak was silent for a second. “I won’t let it go until I know for sure.”
“I get it. But you might not have a choice in the matter.” I was still trying to avoid telling her that I planned on finding the injector myself. She should not be involved. For one thing, if she did find the shot, it might ruin her family’s chances of getting a settlement from the EpiPen manufacturer, who could claim she might have tampered with it to swing the case in her monetary favor.
“But, it’s not right. Nothing about what happened to my uncle feels right. How did he get exposed to peanuts in the first place? And then why didn’t the shot work?”
Those were the very same questions I’d been mulling over. “I don’t know.”
“Pardon me, Sergeant, I’m not trying to be insubordinate by saying what I’m about to say. But the tone of your voice suggests that you don’t want to leave this alone any more than I do.”
“You’re way off base, Nowak.” I tried to sound convincing. I didn’t want her involved in my off-the-record investigation. “I can’t help you. And I suggest you leave it alone.”
It was hard to sound believable when all I could think about was how wrong all of this felt. I certainly didn’t plan to leave it alone.
Upon entering Sanders’ Tavern, I flicked on the lights and then locked the front door behind me. Norman had given me the entry code so I could go look around before the place opened that afternoon. The poker table used for the tournament was gone. From the smell of Pine-Sol and the neat lineup of chairs along the bar, it looked like the place had been cleaned. Which meant that I might be wasting my time searching for anything.
As I walked around, I scanned the area. I started my search with the most obvious place, the floor. I bent down and checked under the bar in case someone had kicked the injector under it. I explored everywhere the EpiPen might have skidded during the effort to save Ray. When that produced nothing other than dirty hands and knees, I moved to the bar. I checked every shelf, drawer, sink, and container. I still came up empty.
Then I made my way to the area near the back door next to the restrooms.
In the back corner of the room stood a large trash can that looked as though it hadn’t been emptied in a while. Digging through trash hadn’t been on my list of things to do today. But I could hear my dad’s voice loud and clear. Why do a job at all if you aren’t planning on doing it right?
I’m not sure dumpster diving is what he had in mind for that life lesson, but the principle held true. I stepped over to the can and began pulling out the contents. After emptying everything onto the floor, I felt confident that the shot was not in there, so I put everything back in the can.
A loud bang sounded from outside the back door, only a few inches from where I stood. Then I heard scratching sounds on the metal, followed by more banging. The door handle rattled up and down.
Someone was trying to break into the tavern.
I put one hand over my gun and the other hand on the doorknob. I could feel my heart pounding as adrenaline pumped in my veins.
Drawing my gun, I swung open the door. “Freeze!” I yelled.
Nowak stood outside the door, a crowbar in one of her upheld hands.
“What are you doing here?” I holstered my gun. “I could’ve shot you.”
“I didn’t know anyone was here.” Nowak lowered her shaking arms. “I wanted to do some investigating.”
“By breaking and entering?”
“Well, um...”
“Breaking the law seems to be a habit of yours.” I grunted. “I think you’re in the wrong profession.”
“Sergeant, if I’m not mistaken,
you were the one who broke into McFalls’ car. Isn’t that right?”
“Only because you were going to put a rock through his window.” I took a long, deep breath and squeezed the bridge of my nose. “Didn’t I just tell you to leave this alone? Go home, Nowak.” I went inside the bar.
Nowak followed me in. “Then why aren’t you leaving it alone?”
“None of your business.” I locked the back door.
When I turned, I saw Nowak going through the trashcan. She wasn’t giving up. Stubborn, just like Juanita. I had to laugh.
“It’s not in there,” I told her.
“I knew it!” Nowak looked up with a handful of trash and grinned.
“You know nothing.” The kid had me. But darned if I’d admit that.
Nowak put the trash back. “You and I are looking for the same thing. We don’t have to double our efforts; we can work together.” She thrust out her hand for me to shake.
I stuck my hands in my pockets.
She locked eyes with me. “I’m going to do this with or without your help.”
At least if I was with her, I could stop her from doing something stupid. I moved past her outstretched hand. “Fine.”
“Really?” She sounded excited.
“Don’t make me regret it.” I walked to the front door.
She followed on my heels like an eager puppy. “I promise I won’t break any more laws, unless I need to.”
“There you go: you just busted your agreement.”
As I locked up the door, I noticed her standing beside me, her eyes wide with anticipation.
“Sergeant, what next?”
I had to figure out how to keep her involved without getting her in trouble. “How about you go over the list of people who were at the poker game last night? Maybe one of them saw the injector. Let’s start with that.”
“Thank you for giving me a chance. It’s not easy being a female cop, you know. I feel like I have to work twice as hard to prove myself.”
I huffed. She had no idea what hardships and discrimination were. “Then work hard, prove yourself.”
“You have no idea,” she mumbled as she walked behind me to my car
“No. I don’t know what it’s like being a female. But I do know about being a minority in a system rigged against you.”
“Oh?”
I unlocked my car and turned to her. “My parents were immigrants. They came to Miami from Cuba and knew little English. My dad worked the hot, dirty grunt jobs no one else wanted. Lawn maintenance and landscaping. Trying to support my mom and his four children, he worked long hours for little pay, if he got paid at all.”
“Why would he work without pay?”
How much should I tell her so that she’d know I understood and would show her no special treatment? “Never mind.”
“But you brought it up. Now I want to know.”
She was persistent, and she was right. I had brought it up, and I should tell her. I rested against the side of my car. “My dad worked as a day laborer under a boss who decided that it was optional to pay his non-English-speaking employees.”
Nowak leaned against my car. “That’s horrible. How did the boss get away with that?”
“Most of his workers weren’t citizens, and they didn’t speak the language. He knew that they had no rights and were grateful when they got paid at all.” I tensed up as I thought about this time in my life. My stomach compressed and heat rose in my chest.
“But someone should have stuck up for them.”
My heart raced as I remembered. “I finally did. I was eighteen and tall for my age. I heard my mom crying that we had no money for groceries again because Dad’s boss had refused to pay him. This happened so many times that right then and there, I’d had enough. I went to the foreman’s office, and let’s just say that after that, my dad and the others were paid what they were owed.”
“Wow. You stuck up for him when he couldn’t stick up for himself.” She locked eyes with me. “Is that why you became a cop?”
Actually, it was. But I had to get our relationship back on a professional level. “Sit tight until you hear from me.” I got in my car.
“You got it, partner,” she agreed.
I looked at her.
“I meant, Sergeant, sir,” she added.
I smiled to myself as I started the car and drove away. Hopefully, this would be a successful mentorship and not a disaster. I had no desire to get both of us fired.
Chapter 15
After I grabbed something to eat, I passed by Sanders’ Tavern, saw Norman’s car out front, and stopped in. I had to find out if he had seen the EpiPen.
“Thanks for letting me look around this morning,” I told Norman.
Big Mike was slicing limes behind the bar. Norman sat at the counter with a stack of papers in front of him.
“Glad to help. Did you find what you were looking for?” Norman asked.
“No.” I sat on barstool next to him. “Did either one of you happen to see the EpiPen after Ray collapsed?”
“Not me.” Norman shook his head over his paperwork.
“The shot thing?” Big Mike looked up from slicing. “Yeah. Matter of fact, I did.”
“Where was it?” I asked.
He pointed to a far corner of the bar. “It was in a plastic bag sitting over there.”
“Do you remember what time you saw it there?”
“Might have been around the time the paramedics were still here. I can’t remember for sure.” Big Mike set down his knife on the cutting board.
“Did you see who put it there?”
“That detective that came, McFalls, I think.” Mike filled a glass with ice water and handed it to me.
“Thanks.” I took a drink. “Do you happen to know what happened to it?”
“No. I just assumed McFalls took it because one minute it was there, then I turned around to wash some bar glasses, and it was gone.” Big Mike thumbed behind him.
“But you didn’t see him take it?”
“No.”
“Maybe it fell or got swept into the trash,” I suggested.
Mike shook his head. “I’m the one who dealt with the trash and mopped up. I’m pretty sure I would’ve seen it. Maybe someone took it.”
“Did you see anyone near the bar at that time? Standing around or walking toward it?” I asked.
“No. Then again, things got pretty crazy with all that was happening.”
“Can you think of anything else from last night that felt off to you?”
“Besides a guy dying?” He laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. Even though I hated the guy, it was a horrible thing that happened to him.”
I nodded, struggling to put the puzzle pieces together. The pen had definitely been bagged, but it was no longer at the bar. McFalls said he took it and logged it into evidence but that doesn’t ring true at all.
“So, why you so interested in all of this? I heard it was just an accident,” Big Mike said.
“It very well may be. But Dickey thinks it could’ve been a defective device, and that might have contributed to Ray’s death.”
Big Mike shook his head. “That would suck if it was meant to save his life and killed him instead.”
“No kidding.” I rubbed my temples. “But we won’t know for sure until we get a hold of it. And right now it seems to have vanished into thin air.”
Norman spoke up. “You know, Dickey has been bugging me about that damned thing, too. You’d think it was the Holy Grail the way everyone’s talking about it.”
I chuckled at Norman’s analogy. My thoughts returned to the mystery. If I was right and McFalls never took it after he bagged it, that meant someone in the room must have taken it. But why, and who? I needed to know, but without an actual police investigation, I couldn’t exactly interrogate everyone who had access. Then again, I might not have to.
“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” Big Mike said.
“I’m not much help, e
ither,” Norman added as he set a piece of paper down.
I decided to run with my idea. “What do you think about finishing the tournament tonight, Norman?” I felt like a complete ass for even asking, considering what had happened.
“Are you serious?” Norman glared at me. “That’s pretty cold.”
I cringed, knowing how the request made me look, but I had to have everyone back together. The sooner the better, so that people’s memories were still fresh. “I think Ray would’ve wanted us to carry on without him.”
“Oh, you do? Now that he’s dead, you’re suddenly his friend speaking on his behalf?” Norman grinned.
“He’s a cop. Cops stick up for each other.” It was the best explanation I could muster.
“Okay, I get it. I’ll give everyone a call. Tell them we’re finishing the tournament.” Norman stacked his papers. “What about Ray’s spot?”
“What if his niece, Nowak, took his place?” I suggested.
“Hmmm.” Norman stood. “When I’m making calls, I’ll run that past the others. I’ll give them the option of continuing the game for a chance to win the big kitty or refunding their buy-in and entry fee. It’s got to be unanimous. Trust me, though, they’ll all be in favor of playing.”
“How do you know that they’ll all agree?”
“People are greedy. A chance to win five thousand is much more attractive than getting a refund.”
“I’ll see you later this evening.”
Calls to both paramedics led me nowhere. Neither one of them had taken the EpiPen nor seen anyone else taking it.
Back home, I threw the wet clothes from the wash into the dyer.
My cell rang, and I picked up.
“This is embarrassing for me, but I feel that I have to explain myself,” McFalls said.
“Okay shoot.”
“I hated misleading you. I did bag the EpiPen and then I set it on the bar. I told one of the officers there that night to grab it and log it in. I assumed they had when I saw it was gone.”
“Let me guess, they didn’t?”
“After you came in this morning, I knew I’d dropped the ball and couldn’t explain why it wasn’t in the evidence room.”