by Kylie Dodson
He pointed a finger at her. “You know what, if that was the life I led, I’ll bet Pete and I would make a great couple. I don’t know him, but I have little doubt. That’s how confident in my game that I am.”
Jennifer watched as he continued talking himself up. The more he spoke, the more ridiculous he sounded. But she had to admit, she was starting to see what Dubs and Cassidy saw in him. Annoying as he could be, Blake Rivers was easy on the eyes.
“Because inside this well constructed suit is a serious man,” Blake continued. “So yeah, I’ve got another hunch.”
“Constructed,” Jennifer said.
“Come again?”
“Constructed. The stadium renovation is a Driscoll project. There’s another one downtown. That twenty-eight-story skyscraper.”
“Yeah, but it’s just a footprint right now. And that’s not my hunch.”
“No, but it is mine. Get in the car.”
Blake’s eyes went wide and he rushed to the passenger side of the car.
“Wait, you pulled this from my theory last night, didn’t you?”
She smirked at him. “I’m taking the fifth on that one.”
***
Jennifer tapped on the vinyl banner that hung from the chain link fence surrounding the construction site. The holes in the sign kept it from being buffeted too much by the wind. The banner had a graphic of what the building would look like once completed. And next to the graphic was the name of the company that was working on it: Driscoll Construction.
The footprint was at least two stories deep. And aside from a couple of bulldozers still working to hollow out the basement, the foreman’s trailer, and what looked like scrap strewn about, there wasn’t much to the site. Except for the two tower cranes that sat motionless high above them. Jennifer looked up at one of them and noticed something flailing in the breeze.
“Rivers, you see that? On the crane?” She pointed up.
Blake looked skyward. “Looks like a trash bag.”
“Yes, it does.”
“What about it?”
She made her way down the entrance ramp, entering the site and ignoring the warning sign about hard hats.
Jennifer approached one of the construction workers, her badge already out. “I need to speak to the foreman.”
The man pointed toward the trailer.
“Thanks,” she said.
***
“Well, if I have to find another guy, I will,” the foreman said into his phone. “OK, you got thirty minutes.” He set his phone on the desk and breathed a sigh of frustration. “You know what they say about finding good help?”
“So I’ve heard.” Jennifer flashed her badge.
“Woah, is this about those permits? Look, that’s an admin deal. I don’t deal with all that. You're going to have to talk to the main office.”
“I’m not here about any permits, sir.”
“Good. I got enough to worry about today. We gotta start getting this concrete poured today and I don’t even have the dirt flattened all the way.”
“I’m Detective Jennifer Case of the NYPD. This is my…” She trailed off, realizing she had yet to introduce Blake to anyone. “My associate, Blake Rivers.”
“The Blake Rivers?” the foreman asked. “The writer guy on the internet?”
“That’s me,” Blake said.
“And you’re a cop?”
“No.” Jennifer answered for him. “Mr. Rivers is running an expose on the city police and our day to day dealings.”
“He’s a good writer. You’re a good writer,” the foreman said.
“Well, thank you. It’s really no big deal. But that does mean a lot,” Blake replied, feigning modesty.
“So, how can I help?”
“Well, we’re—I’m leading an investigation," Jennifer said. "I can’t divulge any details about it, but I can say that it involves one of your cranes. I’d like to speak to the crane operators.”
“Believe me, I’d like to as well. Those guys think because they’re specialists, they can show up whenever they want. Guy on the phone was one of them.”
Jennifer glanced down at the floor. She knew there was a contingency, but she wasn’t all too sure it was one she wanted to look into.
“Anything else I can help with?”
“There is one more thing,” Jennifer said.
***
“Who knew my autograph was worth risking life and limb?” Blake said. “And for the record, I think your contingency is a really bad idea.”
They both stood at the bottom of the crane ladder, staring up. It was at least seventeen stories to the top of the crane.
Jennifer placed one hand on a rung of the ladder.
“Aren’t these things supposed to have elevators?” Blake asked.
“What happened to Blake Rivers, the hard hitting journalist, goes where others won’t?”
“He usually has a helicopter for these sorts of things.”
“Sorry, Mr. Investigation. Not today. Costs the department too much to fly that thing out.”
She stepped up onto the ladder and began her ascent.
Jennifer didn’t bother looking back down to see if Blake was behind her, she could hear the sound of his shoes as they stomped on each rung, firmly planting himself on each step.
“How about this view?” she asked.
“Can we not talk about the view…Please?”
“What’s the matter, Rivers? Wait, are you afraid of heights?”
“Now you ask me that?”
“Hey, you got in the car this morning.”
“Yeah, with coffee. Black, three sugars.”
“And I feel so invigorated because of it. Double, now with this breeze so high up.”
“I hate you, Case. So much, you don’t even know.”
She smiled at his sudden disdain. "Come on, we’re almost there. Three more stories.”
“I can’t believe I’m on a ladder, fourteen stories up.”
“Just write that it was thirty stories up. That’s gotta be worth a few more phone numbers.”
“I don’t embellish.”
That seemed odd to Jennifer. “No? Not even a little?”
“I’ve never had to.”
“You called me a dual gun wielder in one of your articles.”
“OK, so, maybe I took a few liberties,” Blake said. “You know, when Captain McGhee suggested this ride-along business, I figured I’d get to see some dual wielding action. Maybe a car explosion. Throw a bad guy through a window. I didn’t think I’d be dangling seventeen stories up without a net.”
“Dangling? Yeah, you don’t embellish anything.”
Jennifer’s foot hit the gangplank at the crane’s top. Blake’s hand couldn’t grasp the guard rail fast enough.
He glanced down and Jennifer could hear him swallow, hard. “OK. So here we are. Why did we come up here for a trash bag?”
“It’s not the trash bag. It’s what’s in it.” She stepped out toward the crane arm.”
“In it? Case, what are you doing?”
“My job. If I tell you to stay here, are you going to follow me?”
“Not this time. But Case—“
“Good.” She stepped onto the crane arm and steadied her footing.
The wind whipped at her hair as Jennifer made her way, slow and steady, hand over hand, across the arm.
“Case, I don’t think this is—No, I know this isn’t a good idea,” Blake called after her.
Jennifer ignored him, opting to keep her focus on her hands and her feet. The round steel bars that made up the crane were thick enough that she felt confident stepping on them. Grabbing with her hands was another matter. If she could have wrapped her fingers and thumbs all the way around, it would have been much easier and gone much faster. But as things stood, she just had to concentrate a little harder.
The sound of plastic flapping in the breeze caught her attention and Jennifer stopped to stare at the thing bound and tied to the crane arm.
It looked like something from a bad silent film. The kind where the villain ties the girl to the train tracks.
Jennifer guessed she was only seven feet away from the trash bag. Close enough to tell that it was definitely more than just a bag.
“Can you see it?” Blake called out from across the gap.
The thing was almost at the end of the arm. Jennifer looked back and guessed she was about two-hundred feet out. For a brief second, she regretted her decision. The way back was going to be just as slow and dangerous as her venture out. Still, she had made it that far.
One more step and she finally made it to the black bag, which was still flapping in the breeze.
Her dark hair whipped behind her head while she hooked her elbow around one of the steel pipes, securing herself to the boom arm.
Jennifer looked down at the trash bag, keeping her focus on it and not on the ground below it. There was definitely something in the trash bag. She noted the ropes that kept it attached to the crane. There was a shape in the bag that looked familiar. But she wasn’t quite ready to make that call. The implications—if she was right—were less than comforting.
She narrowed her eyes at the sight of strands of hair that were blowing from outside of the trash bag. “That looks like…”
“What is it?” Blake asked.
“Hang on!” she shouted back.
She knew that she’d have to get closer and slowly slid her elbow down the pipe she’d secured herself to.
A single gust of wind hit her. It was strong enough to lightly shake the boom arm and Jennifer’s foot slipped, almost taking her with it.
“Case!” Blake shouted.
She blocked out his voice and swallowed hard, bringing her foot back underneath her. There was no room to focus on anything else but her balance and the black trash bag.
A slow, controlled breath came from her rounded lips as she re-steadied herself.
Jennifer took a closer look at the strands as the breeze blew at them. Then she reached out and slowly pulled back a loose flap of the trash bag.
A small sigh escaped her at the sight of a woman's hand. The knuckles were purple and bruised. She pulled her own hand back, letting the bag re-cover the exposed hand of the victim.
As Jennifer pulled herself back to a standing position, her eyes looked past the trash bag and noticed the ground below her.
“Rivers!” She pointed at the ground of the construction site.
Blake followed her gaze and saw the same thing she did.
It wasn’t scrap that was strewn about. It was scrap that was carefully placed on the ground to form words. Words to another poem.
CHAPTER 9
Blake Rivers looked on as SWAT team members used ropes and harnesses to lower the body in the trash bag to the ground.
A helicopter hovered over the construction yard. The irony of that wasn't lost on Detective Jennifer Case. Blake would have preferred a helicopter to fly to the top of the tower crane. But she insisted on doing the job herself. Now, here they were with a helicopter overhead.
But it wasn't just the cost of the chopper. Pulling out the chopper would also mean alerting Captain McGhee to her investigation of a homicide. Something he expressly ordered her to do the opposite of. But since the chopper had been let out, so had the news to the captain.
Jennifer could hear him directing officers to various tasks. She knew the only thing keeping her from his wrath was her questioning of the foreman. But that could only go on for so long.
"I'm telling you, I didn't even know that was up there," the foreman said.
Jennifer could tell the fear in his voice was more about whether or not he was being charged rather than the fact that a dead woman was found on his construction site.
"You didn't know there was something attached to one of your cranes?" Blake asked.
"Hey, Mr. Rivers, I got a footprint for a skyscraper, but I got no skyscraper."
"No reason to look up," Jennifer said.
"Until I got crane operators, yeah."
"That reminds me," Jennifer said, trying to eke out every last moment of having the foreman in front of her. Maybe Captain McGhee would get tired and go back to the precinct. "You still haven't heard from your crane operators?"
"Nothing. I expected them here half an hour ago. I'll tell you this, though, if I find either of them had something to do with that--" He pointed at the body as two officers gently lowered the victim to the ground. "--they're going to be more than just fired."
"I appreciate that sentiment, sir," Jennifer said. "You didn't have any plans to leave town any time soon, did you?"
"Who, me? No. Why--Wait, you don't think I did this, do you?"
"I'd just like for you to be here when I come back to question the crane operators."
The foreman's hand went straight to his chest. "OK. Good. You almost gave me a heart-attack."
Judging by his appearance, Jennifer suspected that if the foreman didn't change certain dietary behaviors, he wasn't long for a heart-attack in the next few years.
"And get that chopper out of here," McGhee said from behind them. "I don't want the public thinking something is going on."
Jennifer knew her time was up. She handed her card to the foreman. "I want you to call me as soon as your crane operators get here."
The foreman took the card and nodded before heading back to the trailer.
"You think he did it?" Blake whispered.
"Case!" McGhee shouted, interrupting Jennifer from a chance to answer Blake's question.
Jennifer turned around to face her superior. "Captain, I can assure you that--"
"I can assure you," he interrupted, "I told you to stay away from stuff like this--especially stuff like this. What were you thinking, climbing all the way up there? And then you got a civilian involved?"
"Hang on, Blake is here because you--"
"You're on suspension. Badge and gun, Detective."
"What? Captain?"
"I'm serious. I told you to stick to the ground stuff. And I hear you had Mr. Rivers, here, follow you up there?"
"Mr. Rivers is an adult who can make adult decisions. I didn't force him to climb up there."
"But you didn't tell him not to."
Blake stepped between the two of them. "If I might interject, Shaun."
Jennifer rolled her eyes. Of course he would call McGhee by his first name.
"It's actually not Detective Case's fault," Blake continued. "I mean, yes, she climbed up there and disobeyed orders."
Blake looked back at Jennifer apologetically. Her lips pursed and her eyes shot daggers back into him. There was no forgiveness there and he would have to endure whatever pain she decided to inflict on him, later.
He turned back to the captain."But in her defense, I can be pretty persuasive. She might say to the point of exhaustion."
"Not the word I would choose," Jennifer said, dryly.
Captain McGhee shot her a reprimanding glance.
"With that in mind," Blake continued. "I convinced her to come out here."
"Mr. Rivers, I appreciate--"
"And you most definitely will appreciate the article I have planned when this case is solved. And, please, Shaun, call me Blake. I really am just so incredibly thrilled to be here, with Detective Case, doing more than just hit-and-runs. I mean, this piece is going to make all other precincts jealous of yours. Just imagine the mayor reading about it and watching the web video. You know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking he's going to offer you a bigger budget without you even having to ask. I'm talking that chopper is free to fly, if you get my meaning."
McGhee's eyes flickered back and forth from Blake to Jennifer before finally turning his gaze to the body as it was carted off on a stretcher.
"And, to make the deal sweeter, this is the only case she has to work," Blake said.
"Gets to work," McGhee corrected, turning back to face Blake and Jennifer. "It's the only case she gets to work."
"Even better," Blake sai
d.
Captain Shaun McGhee took one more look at Jennifer then turned around and left for the construction site exit. "I said get that chopper out of here," he ordered a passing officer.
Blake looked at Jennifer, hopeful she wouldn't be mad at him.
She returned his look with a concerned frown. Here he was, caring about her safety while up on the crane. And now, he had come to her defense, staving off suspension--even making a way for her to work the case out in the open. She had to admit, his methods were a little backhanded but they were effective.
"Huh? Huh?" Blake said. "Am I not a magic worker? Now we can do this thing unimpeded."
"Lucky shot," she said.
"Luck? Oh no, my dear Detective Case. That was experience. I've convinced far more stubborn individuals than Captain Shaun McGhee before. There was this one warlord in--"
"Thanks," she interrupted.
Blake didn't even try to pick up his tale from the past. "You're welcome."
"Now," she said as she pulled out her phone. "Let's see this thing."
She opened the picture she had taken of the scrap-made riddle.
"'I had eyes but could not see,'" Blake read. "'The reel stripped down my love's hand, The system left strand-dead Past its time.'"
"But what does it mean?" Jennifer asked.
Blake shook his head, having no answer. "'eyes but could not see'...Something to do with being blind? Darkness, maybe."
"The first riddle mentioned skies above."
"So I was right about the victim being in the air."
Jennifer ignored his 'told you so' moment. "'Eyes but could not see'...OK, we know the first one led us here. So it's safe to assume that this one leads to a place, as well. We just have to find out where." Her eyes glazed over as her mind took her back to her frequent nightmare. The figure in black took her sister from her and then left poems and riddles. And now there were riddles popping up in town. And they were connected to murder victims. Her sister was taken so long ago. All of it had to be a coincidence. But a part of her needed it to be connected.
