by Wes Markin
Jake knew there was no point in getting too close. Not only would he be turned back, but he would make himself a person of interest. Neither situation appealed.
However, as an ex-detective sergeant, he knew the importance of getting a feel for the crime scene. Of course, he could argue that he still was a DS, as he’d never actually resigned or lost his job; he’d simply disappeared. How that would go down in a totally different country, never mind Blue Falls—a completely different world—he’d no idea.
He killed his lights and pulled over on the side of the road some distance away. It was busier than he’d expected. It was clearly a state issue now. Jake felt the weight leave his shoulders. The investigation of a young girl by an inept chief of police and his misogynistic cronies would have forced him into action. He sat on the hood of his hired Ford, watching the lights flash and listening to the steady hum of activity as the warm breeze played on his face.
After absorbing the bustling scene and having decided to return home to call Frank, Jake hopped down from the hood. It’d only been a day since he last called his son. He didn’t like to make it a daily occurrence, because Frank would quickly start to expect it, and letting him down, as he’d done a few times already since arriving in New England, was a painful experience. However, after hearing about the death of a child, the desire to hear his boy’s voice was overwhelming.
His cell rang. He was surprised to see Lillian Sanborn’s name on the screen.
“Aren’t you in the middle of this investigation?”
“Word travels fast round here.”
“You sound surprised.”
She laughed. “In Blue Falls? No. I’m also not surprised that you’re interested.”
He didn’t mention that he was watching the crime scene and that one of the people he could see moving about in the distance may very well be her, pacing about on her cell. “Not really. This particular investigation will be in good hands, I’m sure.”
“Yes … sort of. But I’m worried still.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, even though the Maine State Police are involved and they’ve sent in their Major Crimes Unit, well, I don’t know …”
“Go on.”
“Shit … sorry, Jake, I really shouldn’t be involving you.”
“Who should you be on the phone to? One of your colleagues? First time I met you, they were shoving a G-string into your drawer and asking you if you were a pole dancer.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“Look, just reminding you that we’ve got each other’s back. It certainly worked out last time. What are you worried about?”
“Fuck … the chief, Jake. I’m worried about him.”
“Concern over that man isn’t healthy, you know that.”
“Yes, and I’m full of it. He isn’t going to stand down on this one and let the state run the show.”
“He won’t have a choice. Besides, if he can wash his hands of the responsibility, why wouldn’t he? He’s hardly the most proactive—”
“He thinks the body belongs to his sister.”
Jake remembered Gabriel staring at the photograph of his sister on the mantlepiece; it had been part of the reason the stubborn bastard had experienced a change of heart—if he, in fact, had one—and offered his help in bringing down Jotham MacLeoid. Jake thought for a moment. “That won’t be confirmed yet. How old would that body be if it’s her?”
“She disappeared in nineteen ninety; however, she’s wearing the school uniform she was last seen in.”
Jake took a deep breath and shook his head. “Still, it’ll need confirming.”
“I get that, Jake, but I’m telling you now. There’s no history of any other schoolgirls from that school disappearing. Who else will it be? The chief is not going to wait for an ID.”
“No, you’re right; he won’t.” Jake sighed. “Who’s in charge of this investigation?”
“Lieutenant Louise Price.”
“Warn her.”
“Warn her of what? They’re not going to lock him up, are they? Anyway, I think she’s already witnessed first-hand how unstable he is. He almost lost it with a couple of her men apparently.”
“Good. At least that will put him on their radar. Where’s he now?”
“Louise sent him away.”
“What?”
“Makes sense if it’s his sister. He can’t be involved in the investigation.”
“Makes sense to them! In reality, they need to be keeping a fucking eye on him.”
“But they won’t, will they?”
“Probably not. They don’t know what he’s capable of. We can’t let him jeopardize the investigation, Lillian. Go to the station and dig out the file on his missing sister. Price will want it off you anyway. Call me when you’ve looked at it, and if Jewell’s there at the station, call me immediately.”
She sighed. “Okay.”
Jake climbed into the car and started the engine. He stared long and hard into the beating heart of the crime scene, worrying that, elsewhere, the investigation would be driving along at a much more furious and reckless pace.
3
THE SECOND SHOT of Jack Daniels slipped down easier than the first. Gabriel tapped the bar. “Same again.”
Maggie, late teens, didn’t move and chewed her lip instead.
“You’re not going to tell me to slow down, are you, young lady?” Gabriel asked.
She sighed and reached for the bottle.
It was quiet in the Blue Falls Taps this evening, so he could see straight through to the young man admirably handling an acoustic guitar on stage, playing “Take it Easy” by the Eagles. Gabriel threw back the next shot. He winced, and his eyes watered. He sighed as his world blurred, and his demons quietened.
His mother’s suicide, his father’s fall from grace as chief of police, and Gabriel’s dangerous desires all linked to that one moment when Collette had gone to buy a lighter for Chief Earl to satisfy his nicotine addiction.
Seen by two people at the top of Main Street on her way to the Rogers general store.
Not seen arriving.
Not seen leaving.
Never seen by Mason Rogers.
Or so he claimed …
He tapped the bar again.
“Fuck you for bringing me to the place where my son died,” Priscilla Stone said.
“I didn’t bring you,” Gabriel said.
“My chief of police drowning his sorrows in front of the whole town. You brought me, alright.”
Gabriel shrugged. “Not drowning anything. Just getting ready.” He turned to look at her. She was tall and dark with cheekbones like daggers. “And since when did you own me?”
“Since we chose you.”
Gabriel laughed. “Charles chose me. Where is he, by the way? We keep having these little meetings, but last time I looked, your husband was the chief selectman.”
“You know he’s too ill now. I’m taking care of his affairs.”
“Rumors are that you’ve always taken care of his affairs. What’ll you do when he finally dies and someone else gets the gig?”
A ghost of a smile flickered over Priscilla’s face.
“Figures,” Gabriel said. “Let’s hope they figure you out before that shitshow begins.” Gabriel turned and threw back his fourth shot.
“That’s enough. You need to go home now.”
“That’s my sister they just pulled out the Skweda.”
“And who better to investigate than real police officers? Let’s face it, it’ll be more competent than that tinpot investigation your drunk father ran thirty years—”
Gabriel stood and kicked away his stool. He leaned over her.
“What you going to do, Gabriel? Make more of a show of yourself than you already have?”
“If you knew me well enough, you’d know I don’t care what people think of me.”
“That’s a good thing! Public opinion has never been lower.”
Gabriel p
ulled a handful of dollars from his pocket, counted some out, and threw them onto the bar. “Thanks, Maggie.” He started to walk away.
“Stay out of this investigation, Gabriel. You’ve been told by them, and now you’ve been told by me.”
He ignored her.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about what happened outside Marissa Thompson’s house. You didn’t allow me justice.”
Gabriel stopped. “You got your justice. And you got it the right way.”
“You’re on borrowed time, Gabriel. Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”
Gabriel continued to walk away.
“And fuck you again for bringing me back to where my son died.”
“See you in Hell, Priscilla.”
“They won,” Frank said.
“How many goals?” Jake asked.
“Mummy, how many goals?” Frank asked his mother in the background. “Three, Daddy! Can you take me next time?”
“I can’t. But one day … I promise.”
“Didn’t Grandpa take you?”
“Yes, those very same seats.”
“Is this your shirt?”
“No. That’s a new one. They look very different now. If you ask Grandpa, he may be able to dig out one of my old ones.”
After the conversation with his son and while he was wiping tears from his eyes, Sheila said she wanted a word with him too.
“Of course,” he said.
“No easy way to say this … I’ve met someone else.”
He felt his stomach constrict. “That’s fair.”
“Frank likes him a lot.”
“Are you sure you’re not finding it easy to tell me this?”
“Whatever, Jake. It just gets confusing for him. You must understand that!”
“Of course, but what are you saying exactly, Sheila?”
“I don’t know. I guess he just wants a dad like all his friends.”
“He’s got a dad!”
“Yes, Jake, of course, he does.”
“Listen. I’ll be back. I just have to sort things first.” Promises, promises … promises he surely couldn’t keep.
“When will that be?”
“I don’t know, but—”
“You don’t even send money.”
“I left money. I told you where it is.”
“No. I’m not touching that money. Not unless you tell me where it came from.”
“Sheila, I … The thing is—”
“Save it, Jake. Listen, maybe you should start calling less. Wean him off you a bit.”
“Sheila, that’s a bloody horrible thing to—”
“Better for him though, maybe. Like I said, he adores Sean.”
“Are you worried about him, or are you just being nasty now?”
“Bit of both. Goodbye, Jake. Think about what I said.”
“He’s my son.”
The phone went dead.
After her phone call to Jake, Lillian asked Lieutenant Louise Price if she should return to the station to dig out the old files on Collette Jewell.
Louise said that was a good idea, but she’d like to accompany her.
Most of the journey was spent in silence as Louise sent several long messages on her cellphone and scribbled in her notebook. Eventually, a couple minutes from the station, she spoke. “You handle yourself well, Officer Sanborn.”
“Thanks, ma’am, but you can call me Lillian.”
“Officer Sanborn will do just fine. I respect you. You know, I’ve been to a lot of towns like yours. I stop and stare if there’s a woman officer or two.”
“And why is that, ma’am?”
“I’m female, black, and bisexual. Let’s just say, I’ll always be fascinated with the rise of the minority—especially in the most patriarchal, homophobic, and racist of places.”
“They’re not all bad here. Not really.”
“I never said they were bad. We are what we are. All of us. I simply pity those who find equality a bridge too far. Anyway, I deviate. I just wanted to say I was impressed. They respect you.”
“I’m not sure about that,” Lillian said with a laugh. She glanced at Louise, who wasn’t smiling.
“Yes, they do. And they fear that feeling, which is why they act out. Believe me, if they didn’t respect you, they’d ignore you and marginalize you that way. And to me, that always feels a whole lot worse, Officer Sanborn. Enjoy the fact they are trying to intimidate you; it shows your strength.”
“Thanks, ma’am.” I think. She stopped the car.
“Tell me about your chief.”
Lillian obliged.
“I’d love to say this wasn’t common,” Louise said. “Too often, in these forgotten areas, the most boisterous of men rise to the top. Anyway, under the current circumstances, we must consider your chief a wounded animal. Speak of the devil …” Louise pointed out the window.
Gabriel stumbled down the steps of the police station.
Louise opened the door and stepped out. “Chief Jewell?”
Gabriel stopped at the bottom of the steps and turned in their direction. He nodded. “Lieutenant Price.”
“I thought we’d agreed that you’d take some time off?” She closed the door and took several steps toward him.
“Yes, of course. I just wanted to pick up a few things first.” He gestured at the backpack slung over his shoulder.
“What exactly?”
Lillian opened the other car door and stepped out. She nodded at Gabriel. “Sir.”
He regarded her with narrowed eyes. “My laptop, my favorite cup, a couple of framed photographs … You sound like you don’t trust me, Lieutenant.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s that I understand you, Chief. It must have been quite a shock back there, and if it does turn out to be your sister, you have my deepest condolences.”
“It is my sister.”
Louise nodded. “Do you mind if I take a look in your bag? Just to put my mind at rest.”
Gabriel shook his head. “No, you may not. This isn’t your town, Lieutenant.”
Lillian looked down. The things she’d seen. The things she’d done with Gabriel and Jake. She suddenly felt very awkward.
Louise nodded and smiled. “Okay, Chief Jewell, that’s fine. You should go and get some rest.”
He laughed. “Are you not even going to try to force me?”
“And what would you do if I did that?”
“I’d report you to your superiors for intimidation.”
“Precisely. Listen, Chief Jewell. We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here, me and you. I’ll do my best to find out what happened to that young girl by the river, and I’d appreciate your cooperation. It’s standard procedure. If it’s your sister, you’re too close. We’re not asking you to step aside for no good reason.”
“Ah, I see. So, what is this good reason?”
“Protecting the integrity of the case. Protecting you, Chief Jewell.”
“I see.” He smiled and turned. “Make sure you wipe your feet before you go into my department.” He walked toward his vehicle.
“The thing is, with a wounded animal,” Louise said, when Gabriel was out of earshot, “if you can recognize them, then you can protect yourself.” She faced Lillian. “And prepare.”
In Jake’s dream, he was alone by the River Skweda, squatting over a tiny skeleton that wore a Southampton FC shirt—
A phone call ended his nightmare.
“Lillian?”
“Yes, I’m at the station with Lieutenant Louise Price.”
Jake sat upright as sweat ran down his chest and stomach. “Are you with her now?”
“No, I’m outside smoking. She’s in the chief’s office.”
“What’s going on?”
“She just wanted access to the file on the Collette Jewell case, as you knew she would. She’s reading the hard copies now.”
“Okay. Can you access it in your database?”
“Yes. I
’ve had a quick look. I’ve got the basics.”
“Go on.”
“First, you need to know he was here. The chief. Leaving as we arrived.”
“And?”
“He had a backpack, said he was collecting his laptop and other personal stuff.”
“Okay. Well, if Price is reading the file, he obviously didn’t take that. Besides, he can view it all himself anyway, unless they revoke his access, but I doubt they’ve got that far yet. So, go on, the basics?”
“Collette Jewell, aged fourteen, left her house January twenty-fifth, nineteen ninety. It was approximately six p.m., so it was winter and dark. She headed to the Rogers general store on Main Street to buy a lighter and some milk. She was sighted at the top of Main Street by an elderly couple, who have since passed—Josie and Lincoln Bloom. No one else came forward to say they’d seen her that day, despite a sizeable reward offered and the case rumbling on for quite some time.”
Jake sighed. The Rogers general store. Gabriel had gunned down Anthony Rogers, son of the store’s proprietor, the night the three of them had worked together to end Jotham MacLeoid’s life. “So, that would have made Anthony Rogers’s dad a suspect?”
“Prime suspect. Mason Rogers.”
“And how did that pan out?”
“Uneventfully. Mason was adamant that Collette never arrived at the store. No evidence was discovered to the contrary. At first, Mason was vilified. Had a tough time by all accounts. But he’s a nice guy, as we all know first-hand, including your good friend Peter Sheenan, who’s his closest friend. So, people started to assume he was innocent. The file is just full of interviews. Mainly with Rogers. But that’s as far as I got.”
“What do you know about the case outside of that file?”
“I know the chief’s mother committed suicide a couple years later, overdosed on painkillers. I also know Earl Jewell suffered from alcoholism, and the police department struggled for a while. He wouldn’t buy that it wasn’t Mason. He hounded the man until he was suspended. He did manage to pull himself together and return until he retired.”
“And Gabriel stepped in?”
“Yep.”
