by Cole Baxter
"So, Steve, did you work with Devon at all?"
"No," he said. "And thank God."
"Why thank God?" I asked.
Steven shrugged. "I just heard that he was a total jerk, you know? Plus, not to mention, the groupies."
"The groupies?" I asked, confused.
"Yeah," Steven said. "I mean, look, we're lonely guys, some of us. It wouldn't be uncommon for someone to bring someone back to their bunk. But Devon, he was the worst of all."
"I see," I said. "Did you know that Devon was married?"
"Yeah," Steve said. "Yeah, I knew. What a jackass."
"Oh," I said in surprise. "I see."
"What, you don't think that having an affair is being a jackass?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I assume that he wasn't the only one doing it."
It wasn't that I didn't think it was being a jackass. It was that I often tried to take all sides of the story into account. There were probably guys here who were fine with what Devon was doing, and I wanted to hear what they had to say.
"Whatever," Steve said when I shrugged. "Come on. Some of the guys who were on shift with him actually switched to this shift because of how terrible he was."
"Hmm," I said and glanced at Sam. "That's interesting."
"Yeah, I can't imagine actually switching shifts because you hate someone," Sam said. "I'd rather force him out."
"We did force him out," Steve said. "That's why he switched gears and became a fire safety inspector after a while. It meant that he still worked in the same job, but he didn't have to interact with any of us."
"He didn't want to interact with any of you because he hated you or you hated him?" I asked.
Steve eventually took a big breath and then looked me in the eye. "Look, you obviously aren't going to leave until you hear the real story, are you?"
"Well, we are investigating a real case," I answered. "So, hearing the real story would be a good idea."
"That makes sense." He shrugged. "I don't know why they are protecting him."
"What are you protecting him from?" I asked. I could tell we were getting close, but for some reason, these guys were nervous about telling us something. Had he been in league with Devon about this whole thing? Was he hiding something? Was Devon at the firehouse and we were about to find him hidden under one of the bunks?
I briefly got lost in thinking about how that would be the greatest discovery ever. I could tell it to everyone I ever met, and it would never get old. I would tell them how I’d cracked a case simply by looking under the bed.
I could see that Sam was giving me the eye and I realized I was getting a glazed over look.
"Just tell us," Sam said, "and we can be out of your hair. Because if that fire bell rings and you have to go, it means we both have to do this all over again."
"Right," Steven said. "Look, Devon brought a lot of girls back here. We didn't say anything, because whatever, that’s his business. But then, the fighters he was working with back here started to get upset because the girls started to get younger and younger. We thought they were eighteen . . . but it turns out they weren't."
"They weren't?" I asked. "How young were they?"
"Some of them were fifteen, sixteen. It was terrible," he said. "We didn't know, of course. We didn't know until after."
"What happened after?"
"There was this one girl, she managed to get herself knocked up," he said. "So, Devon had to pay for an abortion. And then it was a big deal because she was only fifteen, so she couldn't just do it alone . . . and that's when we'd had enough. That's when we finally pushed him out."
"Oh, my God." I raised an eyebrow. "She was fifteen? Did he know?"
"I think he did," Steve answered. "That was the worst part. He did know and he didn't tell us."
"Great," I replied and looked at Sam. "So, this is getting a lot creepier than we thought."
"Do you have her name?"
"Yeah, he kept the paperwork here," Steve said. "He didn't want his wife to know. Speaking of his wife, what the hell happened there? Is she alive? Is she dead?"
"She's alive," I said. "But she's . . . pretty private right now."
"That makes sense," he said. "Look, I can't say that I'm sorry that Devon is dead. And if his wife did it . . . well, good for her."
"We were actually wondering if one of you did it," Sam said.
Steve paled. "What?" he asked. "No, none of us would have done something like that."
"But you just said you hated him," he said. "And you wanted to get rid of him."
"That's not what I said," Steve answered. "Not like that."
"Just give me her name," I said. "I want to find out more about this."
This was all such a mess. I felt like any time we turned a corner, there was more information about this guy. Any time I so much as blinked my eye, someone else hated him. It certainly wasn't making anything any easier. If everyone hated him, there were a million suspects.
We spent a bit more time at the firehouse getting statements. There was no clear winner in this whole mess, and by the time we left, I felt more unclear than I had in a long time. I thought we were taking a step forward, not backward.
"You got her name?" Sam asked me as we walked out.
"Yeah," I said. "I guess I'll go to the office and check it against the records."
"You don't need to check it against the records at the office," he said. "Come on. Get in the car. We can use the computer."
"Won't Anna mind?" I teased him.
He rolled his eyes.
The squad car was parked outside, and Sam put in his login. I remembered how to use the new system, which had come out right before I left.
Sandy Owens.
It seemed like such an innocent, pretty name. It seemed like the name of a girl who should be playing with dolls, or makeup, or getting her first kiss. It didn't seem like a girl who should be having sex with an older man in his firehouse bunk.
It turned out that the girl in question had quite a record. There were several notes about her for possession and for being a runaway. But what got me was the last note in her file.
"She's dead," I said to Sam.
"What?" he asked. "When?"
"A few months ago," I said as I scrolled through the report. "She was . . . Goddamn it."
"What?" he asked.
"She was raped and strangled," I answered. "Same as Laurie."
"No way," he said and turned the laptop toward him. When he read the report, he choked.
"Oh, my God."
"Right?" I said. "What the hell are we supposed to think about that?"
"We're supposed to think that something fishy is going on," he said.
"Yeah," I replied. "But the question is, what? Is Devon still alive? Is he involved in a string of these? Are they copycats?"
"Good questions," he said. "If news of this gets out, you’re going to have to figure out what to tell your employers."
"Well, I would like to tell them something," I growled at him. "If you just tell me who they are."
"Blake, just focus on the issues," he said. "You're supposed to be the leader in this case."
"You keep saying that. And yet, nothing is happening that I can figure out. Have you ever seen a case like this?"
"I haven't," Sam said. "I can ask Anna if—"
"No," I said. "Don't ask Anna. I think I know what I need to do."
"Which is?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Don't worry about it. Thanks for showing me that. I should go."
"Blake, are you all right?" he called after me.
I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine," I said. "Why?"
"Because you have that odd faraway look in your eye," he said. "Which makes me think that you are up to something."
"I am up to something," I said. "I'm a private investigator. It's my job. Unless you're my employer and I have to tell you what I'm up to?"
"Technically not," he said, "but—"
“Okay, thanks, bye," I sai
d as I slid out of the car. He was glaring at me, but I headed back to my own car with thoughts swirling in my head.
At that point, I was quite sure that Devon was alive, and he was out to get Laurie and whoever else he had tackled in his previous life. He was hiding somewhere.
I knew if I told that theory to anyone, they would think I was nuts. People didn't just come back from the dead.
But then, Laurie had come back from the dead. Laurie was still alive.
What I really wanted was a drink. I wanted to call Lola. I wanted to run away.
I needed to crack this case. I felt like I would feel a real sense of peace once I did. Whatever happened on the other side of that was up to fate.
I got into my car and started the engine. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I had to drive to think.
Maybe I should go see Laurie. Maybe I should go see Lola. Maybe I should go to the bar.
Maybe I should just go home.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Blake
I knew that showing up drunk at Laurie's was probably not the best idea that I ever had on the planet. I wasn't completely drunk, but I was certainly a little bit tipsy. I knew that I probably shouldn't have been driving under those circumstances, but honestly, I had done it a thousand times.
That didn't make it better. Lola would have scolded me if she were here. Lola would have had so much to say, and I knew that I really should just back off and sleep it off. But I needed to get to the bottom of this case.
The fact that Devon did this made me so angry. How could he be such an asshole to so many women and just expect to get off Scot free? How could he just rape one girl after another, and so young as well?
I knew that Laurie would want to come with me. I knew that she would have feelings of her own on the issue. I knew that she would probably be emotional.
I would be able to see for certain whether she did it or not after that. Her emotions would completely give it away.
I didn't want to admit it was also because she was pretty and I wanted to have a pretty girl at my side. That was so shallow of me, but it was how I was used to operating. Lola used to be by my side at every moment, and that was the way life was supposed to be.
At least, I thought that was the way life was supposed to be. I was such a jackass.
I knocked on Laurie's door and she pulled it open right away. Her eyes were wide, and although I had told her that I was coming, it seemed like she hadn't expected me.
"Hello, Blake."
"Laurie," I said like we were formal colleagues. "Is it okay if you come with me, still?"
"Yes," she said. "I’ve been thinking about backing out . . . but I think it's best."
I had sent her a text message of the situation, and she hadn't replied, which made me wonder if she wanted to come at all. I didn't want to corner her or anything, but it seemed like she was eager to come now that she was standing right in front of me.
"I agree," I said. "I think the victims would be happy to hear from you."
"Why?" she said. "What if they think I'm involved? After all, everyone else thinks I'm involved, so—"
"Laurie," I said quietly. "I'm the only one who thinks you are involved. Please do not assume anything. In fact, do not tell anyone else that, either."
She quirked an eyebrow. "You can't be the only one," she said.
"Well, I'm the only one who matters," I managed.
She actually laughed at that. “Okay, okay," she said. "So, you think I did it, and you want me to go with you to give myself away?"
"Probably." I shook my head. This was such a weird situation, and to be honest, I was too tired to argue. "Let's go."
She smiled, and I felt like it was a genuine smile. This was such a weird situation. I wanted to be with her, even though she was probably a murderer. I didn't believe that she was a murderer, but if she was, I didn't really care. I just wanted to be with her.
Laurie seemed to not notice or maybe not care that I was drunk as she followed me to the car. She was clearly under a lot of stress and she was thinking quite a lot. I didn't say anything until we got into the car when I turned to her.
"There is one thing that I didn't mention about Sandy," I said. "She was fifteen."
She looked like she would cry, but somehow, she held it together. She took a deep breath, and then another, and finally managed to nod.
"All right," she said as I started the engine.
"Did you know?" I asked. "That Devon was into that?"
"No," she said. "But then, the only thing I knew he was into was rape and choking and drunk sex. So, if it involved any of those things, she was probably right up his alley."
"I'm sorry that you—"
"Please don't." She looked me in the eye. "Everyone is sorry. Everyone is always sorry, and it's just . . . it's too much. I need people to not be sorry all the time. I need them to understand that I can be strong, and I can recover, and something good can come out of this. Something good has to come out of this, because if it doesn't . . ."
"I understand," I replied. Luckily, the Owens house wasn't too far from where Laurie lived, and I was able to get us there without too much difficulty.
I always found the hardest part was not the victims but the family that they had left behind. And in this case, the family that Sandy had left behind was young and beautiful and full of tears.
The mother, Bella, and the sister, Molly, were both standing at the door to let us in, and they were both on the verge of tears or anger or probably both.
"Hello, I'm . . ." Laurie reached her hand out, but Bella clearly already knew who she was. Her face softened, and I realized that their anger and hostility had been toward me.
They probably thought that I was the actual police and I was not doing my job. They probably blamed us for not catching Devon. They probably thought that I was scum.
I hoped that they wouldn't smell my breath because then they would know for certain that I was scum.
"I know who you are," Bella said. "And I am so sorry that you had to live with that monster."
"I . . ." Laurie had been strong, but now it looked like her face may crumple.
I just wanted to give her a hug and I wanted to tell her everything would be all right. I felt like such a jackass for bringing her here. Yes, it often helped victims when they were with others who’d suffered the same thing as them, but Laurie didn't need any more trauma in her life. The last thing she needed was more tears.
"Please, come and sit with us," Bella said and then turned to me. "Is he really dead?"
I had to lie to her. I had to lie to her because there was no way I could tell the truth.
"Yes," I said. "Yes, he's really dead."
"Good," she said. "It's a shame he didn't blow himself up sooner."
"Actually," I said, "that’s why we’re here. It turned out that we may be looking at a murder investigation."
Bella didn't react at all.
"Good," she said. "I hope whoever killed him was like my Sandy. Strong and fierce."
"Uh . . ." I paused. "So, it turns out that no matter whether someone is a bad person or not, murder is a still a bad idea."
"Yeah, I don't really care," Bella answered.
I tried not to smile. I didn't really care, either. The fact that Devon had hurt a fifteen-year-old girl was enough for me to write him off until the end of time. I couldn't, of course, but I desperately wanted to.
"I just wanted to ask you some questions," I said. "And I brought Laurie because I thought—"
"You brought her because you thought maybe we were in league together," Bella said. "I'm not dumb. I watch Criminal Minds."
"Mom," Molly, the daughter, shook her head. "This is not the time to tell them that."
"No, it's fine," I said. "If you watch a show like that, you know that we have to talk to everyone on a case, whether they are a likely suspect or not."
"I know," Bella said. "And I know that you must think we . . ."
; "You can't actually think they did it, can you?" Laurie asked. "Blake!"
"I . . ." I knew that a good private investigator would ask more questions. A good private investigator would demand answers. But maybe I wasn't a good private investigator. Maybe I was just an asshole who was trying to find meaning in my life.
"Really, I just thought it would be good if all of you connected," I said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be disrespecting your daughter's memory."
"We're just angry that he died before he could stand trial," Molly said. "I wish I could have gotten up on the witness stand."
"Molly," Bella said. "You're too young for—"
"My sister is dead because of him," Molly said fiercely.
I wanted to say so many things, but Laurie and Bella seemed to connect on a level that I could not enter. So instead, I sat on the couch and sobered up and tried not to think the darkest thoughts in my head.
When it was time to go, I decided to drive Laurie back to her place and then carry on. I didn't know where I would go, but I thought maybe I'd find a bar and drink myself stupid. There were some days in this case that I just needed to pass out cold and not focus on the real world. The real world sucked.
"Are you all right?" I asked Laurie as I walked her to her door.
She turned to look at me with tears in her eyes. "Could you come in for a while?" she asked. "Sorry, I just . . . I really don't want to be alone right now. I've felt alone for so long."
"That is completely understandable," I said as I crossed the threshold into her place.
She shut the door behind herself and we ended up just staring at each other.
"I’m sorry that I—"
"No," she cut me off. "I had to go. I had to see that for myself. I knew that Devon had been having an affair . . . and I knew that there were other victims. But to actually connect . . . to see firsthand what he was doing . . . it was . . ."
She couldn't speak anymore as the tears continued to flow. I stepped forward and offered her a tissue that I had picked up from her front hall. I had meant to offer her a shoulder to cry on as well, but something went wrong.
Maybe I leaned in too far, or maybe she leaned in too far. Maybe we were just both in a dark emotional place that neither of us could really process.
