She saw McConnell exit the elevator. He made a beeline straight for her desk. “I’ve been calling you nonstop for the past hour,” he said.
She had been avoiding answering his calls. She was in such a dour mood that she did not want to say something she might regret later, even though McConnell was the one person who would truly understand what she was going through.
She smiled. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been too wrapped up in my work. I should have called you back.”
“It’s not about that,” he said.
Her heart sank. Is he going to break up with me? she thought.
Her mouth went dry. “It’s not?”
“Come with me. I want to show you something.”
“What?”
“Just come.”
She followed him to a room with a two-way mirror. In the adjacent room a man was seated at a metal table. He looked pale and visibly shaken. He had jet-black hair which was parted down the middle and he was wearing a dress shirt with the collar buttoned up.
“Who is he?” Fisher asked.
“I pulled him over for a routine stop,” McConnell replied. “I searched his vehicle, and I found a bag of cocaine in the glove compartment.”
“He looks scared.”
“He should be,” McConnell said. “He’s nineteen. No priors, not even a speeding ticket, and he is a student at Baker Polytechnic Institute.”
“From what I’ve heard,” Fisher said, “you have to be super smart to get into one of their programs.”
“I applied to it right after high school and got rejected.”
“You did?” Fisher asked, surprised.
“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t smart enough,” McConnell replied, “but then I got into the academy. Go figure.”
“So, what’s a bright kid like him doing with a bag of cocaine?” Fisher asked.
“That’s what I asked him.”
“And?”
“He said it’s not his but his cousin’s.”
Fisher frowned. “So why did you bring me here to see him?”
“I haven’t booked him yet, but I figured you would like to speak to him first.”
“Why would I?”
“He said he has some information he’d like to share with us.”
“What kind of information?”
“The murder of Robert Burley, aka, Big Bob.”
The moment Fisher heard the name, she raced into the adjacent room. She took a seat across from the youth. “I’m Detective Dana Fisher,” she said. “Is it true you have information on a murder?”
The youth swallowed and then nodded.
“What’s your name?” Fisher asked.
“Juan.”
“Full name?”
“Juan Herrera.”
Fisher’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know someone by the name of Manuela Herrera?”
He stared at her, bit his lip, and said, “She’s my sister.”
Fisher’s heart skipped a beat.
ONE-HUNDRED THREE
“What do you know about Robert Burley’s murder?” Fisher sternly asked.
Juan looked at her. “The drugs are not mine.”
“It was in your car.”
He fell silent, but then he said, “If I give you something, will you help me.”
Juan was smart, she knew, and he was willing to cut a deal. “Okay, sure,” Fisher said. “If I like what I hear, I’ll talk to the officer who brought you here and see what we can do about letting you go.” McConnell had not booked him, which meant no charges had been laid yet. If he had been booked, then it would be up to the prosecution and then ultimately a judge to decide whether to drop the charges. Right now, Fisher had some control over the situation.
“Tell me what happened the night Robert Burley was murdered.”
Juan took a deep breath. “I never saw anything happen with my own eyes, okay? But I was there that night.”
“At his house?”
“Sort of.”
“Okay.”
“I had an evening class that day, and when I was driving home, I saw that there were several missed calls from my sister.”
“Manuela?”
He nodded. “I tried calling her back, but they would go straight to voicemail. When I got home, I saw my cousin…”
“The one the cocaine belongs to?”
“Yes. He was sitting on the porch smoking a joint.”
“What’s his name?”
Juan hesitated.
“You have to be truthful or else I can’t help you,” Fisher said.
“Diego Murcia.”
“Then what happened?”
“He told me we were going for a ride. I thought maybe he wanted me to drop him somewhere, but when I saw that we were near Mr. Burley’s house, I thought we were there to pick up Manuela. Diego told me to wait in the car. I saw him walk up to the door and then go inside.”
“The front door wasn’t locked?” Fisher asked.
Juan shook his head. “I don’t think so. I waited for twenty minutes or maybe longer, I don’t know, when Diego came running out of the house. He had blood on his hands and shirt. He was also carrying a plastic bag.”
“Did you see what was in the bag?”
“Yes. Money. Lots of it.”
That was the cash from Big Bob’s safe, she thought.
“Okay, keep going,” Fisher said.
“I asked Diego what happened,” Juan said. “He told me to drive fast. I was scared. I did exactly what he wanted. We drove to a remote spot where Diego took off his shirt and washed his hands and face with a bottle of water. He took the money out of the plastic bag and he stuffed it in my school bag. He then put the shirt and another item inside the plastic bag.”
“What was this other item?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could it have been a knife?”
He thought a moment. “It could have, but I didn’t see it. We then drove to an industrial area where Diego dumped the plastic bag behind a building. We spent the next couple of hours driving around the city. We went to a couple of bars. Diego drank. I didn’t. And at the end of the night, Diego took my school bag. He told me he would return it the next day. He handed me a bundle of hundred-dollar bills and told me to keep my mouth shut or else I’d be in serious trouble. I took the money. I’m a student. I barely make minimum wage. I then drove home. Manuela asked where I was. I didn’t tell her any details. Next morning, we both saw the news that Mr. Burley was murdered.”
“And you knew who had done it? Your cousin?” Fisher asked.
Juan lowered his head. “I never actually saw him do it, but yes.”
Fisher pondered her next question. “Did Diego ask you to drive him other times?”
He looked confused.
“I mean, did he ask you to drive him to a trailer park, perhaps?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “How did you know?”
That was where Chase Burley was found dead, she wanted to say, but did not. Instead she said, “So did you drive him to a trailer park?”
“I did. He told me it was a short ride, but it was actually longer. I didn’t ask him any questions. He can lose his temper in a split second. I dropped him off and drove straight home.”
“And then a few hours later, he asked you to pick him up next to a rural road, isn’t that right?” Fisher said.
Juan’s eyes again widened in surprise.
Fisher knew Diego had gone to the trailer park to torture and kill Chase Burley. Maybe he thought Chase knew something. Diego then took Debra Coleheim in Chase’s Chevy Tahoe to a rural area, had his way with her, strangled her, and then left her dead body in the trunk.
“Where can we find Diego?” Fisher asked.
“He likes to go to a club on Devon Street,” Juan replied.
Fisher had her killer, but before she went after Diego Murcia, there was one more place she wanted to visit first.
ONE-HUNDRED FOUR
Callaway sat in his Charger acro
ss from an empty parking lot. He checked his watch for the umpteenth time. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. What he was about to attempt was dangerous, not to mention illegal. The ploy could even backfire on him. But Cary Gilford and Brooke O’Shea had pushed him into a corner.
He was not going down without a fight.
He saw a black Escalade pull into the parking lot and stop in the middle. A moment later, Callaway’s cell phone buzzed.
He pressed “answer.”
“Who are you guys? What do you want from me?” Cary Gilford demanded.
Mason’s voice came on. “You need to calm down, man.”
“Can you take off my blindfold?” Gilford said. “I’m claustrophobic.”
“If we did that, you’d see who we are, and that means we’d have to kill you. Is that what you want?”
“No, no, no. I don’t want to die. Please. I have a wife and children.”
Callaway scoffed.
“Speaking of your wife,” Mason said, “we heard she was worth a lot of money.”
“She is, and her family will pay whatever you ask in ransom.”
“We also heard that she is dead.”
There was silence on the other line.
Gilford said, “She was murdered.”
“By who?” Mason asked.
“Some private investigator she had hired.”
“What’s his name?”
“Lee Callaway.”
Callaway gritted his teeth at the sound of his name.
Mason asked, “Why would he kill your wife?”
“I don’t know, maybe for money,” Gilford replied.
“Well, that’s not what I heard.”
Silence.
“What are you talking about?” Gilford asked.
“What I heard is that you framed this private investigator for your wife’s murder.”
“That’s a lie!” Gilford snapped
A punch sounded, followed by an audible groan and whimper. Baxter had likely used force on Gilford.
“I warned you not to get too excited,” Mason said.
There was heavy breathing.
Mason said, “Listen, I don’t have all day. Someone’s paid us to get rid of you, okay?”
“Who? Who was it?”
Mason paused, and then, as if reading from a script, he said, “Some lady. She showed up at our door in a limousine. She didn’t give her name, only that she wanted you gone.”
“Did the woman have silver hair?”
“Yes.”
“And was she wearing a long coat and dark sunglasses?”
“Yeah, she actually was. Do you know her?”
“Of course I do. Her name is Brooke O’Shea, and she was the one who planned the entire thing.”
Callaway was shaken to his core.
“Planned what?” Mason asked.
“My wife’s murder.”
“Well, she said you planned it.”
“That’s a…” Gilford suddenly stopped. He did not want to be on the end of another one of Baxter’s punches.
“I have proof she is not telling you the truth,” Gilford said.
“What kind of proof?”
There was a long pause.
“She has a safe deposit box at a bank near her condo building,” Gilford replied. “Inside, you’ll find all the evidence about how she planned the murder.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“The list of drugs to knock someone out with...”
So, I was drugged, Callaway thought. I knew it.
“…and the disguise she used to fool the private investigator.”
“Speaking of this private investigator, why did you choose to frame him?”
Callaway had demanded Mason ask that question.
“He was an easy target,” Gilford replied. “He had a history of sleeping with his clients. Plus, he was always desperate for money, so he became the perfect patsy.”
Callaway’s blood boiled.
They sure did their homework on me, he thought. I never thought I’d see the day my past would come back and bite me so bad.
“Why would she keep this evidence?” Mason asked.
“After my wife’s funeral, Brooke and I were going to take a long trip on my boat. We were going to dump the evidence in the ocean.”
“What if she’s already gotten rid of this evidence?” Mason asked.
Callaway could not help but smile. Mason was earning every penny he had given him for the job.
“Even if she did,” Gilford said, “I will go before a judge and testify against her.”
There was silence on the line. Callaway could tell Mason was debating what to do next. The plan was simple. Get Gilford to confess and then let him go. How Mason was going to do this was up to him.
Mason asked, “You got money?”
“Yes, I do.” There was optimism in Gilford’s voice. “If you let me go, I’ll pay you double what she paid you.”
“Double, huh?”
Callaway hung up the phone. Mason was a businessman. He was always looking for a way to make money.
Callaway was not interested in what they did next.
He had what he was looking for. It was now time to see if the evidence was worth the ten thousand he had spent to get it.
ONE-HUNDRED FIVE
Manuela Herrera covered her face and wept.
Even though Fisher had Juan’s sworn statement, she wanted to verify certain details. Juan was scared and desperate. He could say just about anything to escape prison time. He could also retract his statements. He could tell a judge the cocaine was planted in order to get a confession out of him.
Juan had a clean record, and he was a model citizen. This could sway a judge’s decision in his favor.
Fisher was not going to take any chances. She was too close.
“You’re going to have to be truthful with me, Manuela,” Fisher said. “Lying to a police officer is a crime.”
Manuela looked up with moist eyes. “I didn’t lie, ma’am. Big Bob gave me the money that night and I went home.”
“But something else happened that night, which you did not disclose to us when we last spoke.”
Manuela lowered her eyes.
Fisher paused and then said, “When we interviewed you at your house, were you alone?”
Manuela shook her head.
Fisher always had a feeling someone else was in the house that day. She had searched the interior but found no one. But that did not mean someone could not have escaped through the back.
“Was your cousin, Diego, with you that day?”
She nodded.
“Your brother is right now at the Milton PD,” Fisher said. “We are holding him because we found drugs in his vehicle.”
“Juan doesn’t do drugs,” Manuela said. “He’s never done drugs in his life.”
“We know they belong to Diego. We have Juan’s side of the story. Now, I want to know yours. What happened that day when you went to Big Bob’s house?”
Manuela swallowed. “Big Bob pays me every two weeks for cleaning his house. I called to ask him if I can get my money. He told me to come later that day. When I went to his house, I heard him arguing with his son.”
“Chase Burley?”
“Yes. I thought about leaving because they were loud.”
“What were they arguing about?”
“Money, I think. And I also heard Big Bob say something about drugs.”
Fisher was right. After Chase’s house in Westport was shot up by rival drug dealers, he was desperate for cash. He had stashed some of his drugs in his father’s house for safekeeping. Big Bob likely was not aware of this, and when Chase went back to retrieve his goods, Big Bob was irate, leading to their heated argument.
“After you saw Chase leave the house, then what happened?” Fisher asked.
“I knocked on the door,” Manuela replied. “Big Bob came outside and then he invited me in. He went into his office, and he came back with my mone
y. He gave it to me and then asked me if I wanted a drink. I told him no and that I wanted to go home. He kept saying it was only one drink. He was lonely, and he needed company. I work for him, so I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. We sat down in the living room and we drank. He then asked if I would go to bed with him.” Manuela’s body shook at the memory. “I was horrified. I told him I didn’t do that with strangers. He said he wasn’t a stranger and that we were friends. He then offered me money to sleep with him. I refused, and then he got angry. He was big, and he tried to…” She fell silent. Fisher gave her a moment to compose herself. “He tried to force himself on me. I hit him across the face. I think I hurt him.”
Fisher noticed a ring on Manuela’s finger.
So that is what caused the gash across Big Bob’s cheek, she thought.
“I tried to run out of the house, but he blocked my path to the front door. I then ran up the stairs and locked myself in a room. He came up after me. He was yelling and screaming for me to come out. I then heard him go downstairs. I thought he was going to calm down, but then I heard a noise. I had to cover my ears because it was so loud. He was shooting at the door. I had to hide in the corner. I cried.” Manuela’s eyes were wide with fright as she remembered the ordeal. “I called my brother, but he didn’t answer his phone. An hour later, when I didn’t hear any noise from outside, I quietly left the room and went downstairs. I saw Big Bob sleeping in the armchair. He had a gun in one hand and a glass in the other. I rushed out of the house.”
“Was the door locked when you left?” Fisher asked.
Manuela looked at her like she was crazy. “I didn’t check. I wanted to get as far away from that house as possible.”
That explains how Diego was able to get inside the house without Big Bob knowing it, Fisher thought.
“And when did you see Diego?” Fisher asked.
“I took the bus home. I saw him sitting on our front porch. He saw my face and asked what happened. Diego is hotheaded. He’s gotten in trouble with the law before. But he’s still family, and he makes sure nothing happens to me and my brother. I was so scared, and I told him everything. Maybe I shouldn’t have. But I told him not to do anything, and he promised he wouldn’t. I didn’t know later that night he got Juan to drive him to Big Bob’s house. It was the next morning when Juan and I found out something bad had happened at the house.”
The Invisible Wife Page 23
