Blood and Justice

by Rayven T. Hill

  Hank was scratching his head. Jake just looked at the ceiling and frowned.

  Suddenly Annie got up, and dashed into the kitchen. She grabbed her cell phone out of a small wicker basket on the counter. She raced back into the living room. “Right here,” she said, as she touched her cell phone screen a few times. She turned the phone toward Hank and Jake. “I have a picture of the print.”

  Jake took the phone from her and stared at it. “It’s a running shoe,” he said. “Can’t tell what size from the picture, though. There’s nothing to compare it to.”

  Hank leaned over and looked. “You can see a few leaves there. Leaves come in different sizes of course, but I think if you compare it to the leaves, you can get a bit of an idea.”

  Jake agreed. “Yes, you can at least tell it’s fairly small.”

  “Email me that picture, Annie. I’ll get the lab to look at it and see if they can tell me anything about it,” Hank said.

  Annie took the phone, and after a few more touches on the screen, the photo had been sent. “It’s on its way.”

  Hank yawned and looked at his watch. “I’m running a bit low on sleep,” he said. “I best be getting home and catch a few.” He stood up and stretched, and then picked up his briefcase. “Tomorrow’s a new day, and a fresh start.”

  Jake walked him to the door. “We’ll keep in touch,” he said, as Hank left.

  Friday, August 12th, 12:00 AM

  JAKE TAPPED on the office door of the night shift manager of King City Foods. He looked at his watch. The midnight shift had just begun.

  The door was opened by a thin-faced man, maybe in his late fifties. He was greying, with small eyes, and a broad nose. He squinted at Jake through round, wire-framed, glasses.

  “Good evening. Uh... my name is Jake Lincoln, and I’m investigating the death of Chad Bronson. I wonder if I may talk to his co-workers for a moment?”

  The man glared at him and said gruffly, “Can’t shut down the line.”

  “That’s ok, I just need to ask a few questions, sir.”

  The man hesitated, and then said, “Guess it’d be ok.”

  Jake stepped back as the man moved from the office and closed the door behind him.

  “This way,” the manager said, moving down a short corridor, toward a closed metal door.

  He swung the door open, and they were greeted with the clatter of machinery, stamping, whirring, and humming. Jake followed him onto the factory floor.

  The manager pointed toward the rear of the room. Jake could see a long conveyor belt, running along the wall, circling around, moving containers of food past various stations as they stamped, sorted, and labeled their way to the packers at the end of the line.

  “Right there,” the manager raised his voice to be heard over the factory sounds. “Doing the packing. That’s where Bronson used to be. Him and Mikey over there did the packing and stacking.”

  Jake looked. He could see two guys picking boxes of something off the end of the conveyor belt, and packing them neatly in cartons.

  “Thanks,” Jake said. “I won’t be long.”

  He strode across the factory floor, dodging workers, as he made his way to where the packers were. They had hairnets over their hair, to keep it from making contact with food, and wore food handler gloves.

  They didn’t look up as he approached.

  “Mikey?” Jake asked.

  One of the guys glanced up briefly. “Yeah, I’m Mikey.”

  “I’m Jake Lincoln, and I’m investigating the death of Chad Bronson. May I ask you a few questions?”

  Mikey looked stunned. He stopped working and stared at Jake. “Wha...? Chad’s dead?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Mikey frowned. “No wonder he ain’t been around.” He picked up a container with each hand and dropped them into the carton. “What happened?”

  “He was murdered. About ten days ago.”

  Mikey whistled. “Holy smokes! I reckon you ain’t caught the killer yet, or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Not yet,” Jake said, and then asked, “Can you tell me, how long did you know Bronson?”

  Mikey stood up and scratched his head. “Gee,” he said, “Only a few weeks I guess. He weren’t here that long.”

  “Did you know him well?”

  “Not too well. We talked some. Not on the line too much. It’s hard to talk in here, but at lunch and break. Yeah, we talked a bit then.”

  “Did he ever mention anyone who may not have liked him? Anyone who may have wanted to do him harm?”

  “Nope. Chad was an easy-going guy. Easy to like.”

  Jake crossed his arms, and stroked his chin, thinking. Finally, he asked, “Did he ever talk to you about his personal life?”

  Mikey turned back to the line. A few containers were starting to jam up. He swiftly packed them, and answered without looking up. “Well, like I said, we didn’t talk too much.”

  Jake waited.

  Mikey straightened his back, and looked thoughtfully at Jake. “There is one thing,” he said, and then hesitated.

  Jake raised his brows and waited.

  “Well, I guess now he’s dead, it don’t matter. He didn’t talk about it much though.” He turned and moved the full carton to another platform, where the other worker swiftly taped it shut, and set an empty carton beside Mikey, ready to be filled.

  Jake waited patiently.

  Mikey stopped and looked up again. “He told me when he was younger, he had broken into somebody’s house with another guy. They got caught somehow, but because of their age, nothing really happened. So he doesn’t have a record.”

  Jake nodded, “Yes, they seal the records for young offenders. It’s almost as if it didn’t happen.”

  Mikey continued, “He never mentioned who the other guy was or anything. And he never said what house they broke into. But he said that experience really straightened him out. I believe it too. He sure seemed like a pretty good guy.”

  Mikey quickly packed a few more containers of food.

  Jake waited. “Anything else?”

  “That’s about all I can tell you.”

  “Anybody else here who might know Chad?”

  Mikey scanned the factory. “Naw, I don’t think so. Like I said, he wasn’t here long, and he only worked this line,” he said, and added, “Geez, I sure hope you catch the guy who killed him.”

  “We’re working on it.” Jake smiled, and offered his hand. “Thanks very much. You’ve been helpful,” he said.

  Mikey slipped off one glove, and shook his hand. “You’re welcome,” he said, and turned back to work, hurrying to catch up with the never-ending stream flowing toward him.

  Chapter 24

  Saturday, August 13th, 10:00 AM

  JEREMY WAS HAPPY there was no work today. He never worked on Saturdays. He hated his job so much. And his stupid boss. But today was just a day to do whatever he wanted. There was nobody to tell him to do this, do that.

  He had plans to work in his vegetable garden for a while. The weeds just never stopped growing, and he knew if he wanted good healthy things to grow, he would have to pull the weeds before they choked the plants and ruined all his hard work.

  Today he had slept in, and was having a late breakfast. Eggs, fried potatoes, and tomato juice. Yum.

  He flipped the eggs from the sizzling frying pan onto the waiting plate of potatoes. He grabbed his glass of tomato juice, and fork, and carried them carefully into the living room. He set them on the coffee table, and pulled the table closer.

  He grabbed the remote and flicked on the television in front of him. He wanted to catch up on any news. He liked to keep up.

  Channel 7 Action News was on. He listened intently as he leaned forward to enjoy his breakfast.

  Mostly boring stuff on the news. City Hall was planning a new park, but they couldn’t agree on where. The population of cats was on the rise, and stray dogs were being rounded up and euthanized.

  Jeremy liked that word,
‘euthanized’. It sounded like a happy word. It didn’t sound at all like they were just killing the dogs.

  Euthanized, euthanized, euthanized. It rolled off his tongue.

  He laughed and continued on his meal, eating it slowly, and with great satisfaction.

  Suddenly a story caught his attention. He looked up. Lisa Krunk was standing in front of the courthouse.

  “I’m standing here in front of Richmond Hill Court building, where thirty-three-year-old Randolph Farley has just been arraigned on charges of grand larceny.

  “Police raided Farley’s apartment and seized tens of thousands of dollars worth of jewelry and electronic equipment.

  “Farley had originally been arrested when he was caught stealing jewelry from Cranstons, and video proof supplied by the retail giant had led to the raid.”

  The camera panned to show a shot of two men coming down the courthouse steps. One looked greasy, slimy. Maybe a lawyer. Krunk continued.

  “I’ve just been informed Farley has been released on $200,000.00 bail.”

  The shot zoomed in on one of the faces. A microphone could be seen pushed at him. That must be Farley.

  “Mr. Farley, do you have any comment?”

  Farley scowled as his lawyer hustled him away. The cameraman followed them until they stepped into a waiting car, and the car drove away. The camera panned back to Krunk.

  “We will bring you breaking news as it happens. In an exclusive report, I’m Lisa Krunk, live for Channel 7 Action News.”

  Jeremy watched the newscast with great interest. He dropped his fork, and sat back, frowning.

  Reaching over to a small table beside him, he retrieved a pencil, and scratched something down on a scrap of paper, ripped from a gardening magazine. He folded the paper carefully, thoughtfully, shoved it into his shirt pocket, and went back to his meal.

  Saturday, August 13th, 10:30 AM

  ANNIE DROPPED the bag of kitchen garbage into the bin on the back deck. She turned her head and wrinkled her nose at the smell greeting her. She quickly closed the lid.

  As she stepped back through the door, into the kitchen, her cell phone, resting in the wicker basket, began to buzz.

  It was her mother. “Hello, Mom,” Annie said.

  “Hello darling. I just wanted to see how things are there. Andy has gone off somewhere this morning. A special delivery he had to make or something.”

  “We’re great here, Mom. I’m just cleaning up a bit. Jake and Matty are in the garage doing whatever it is they do out there.”

  Alma Roderick cleared her throat. “You know that little matter we talked about. I have a check here for you. I can drop it over this morning if you’d like.”

  “Mother! I certainly never agreed to accept any money from you. I told you, we don’t need it. We’re doing fine here.”

  “Yes, but you know Matty deserves better.”

  “Matty is doing great where he is.” Annie sighed. “Please Mom. Really... we’re fine.”

  “I want my grandson to get the best education possible.”

  “He may be your grandson, but he’s my son,” she said, and then added, “Jake’s and mine.”

  “Listen to me, Annie. Your father and I have more money than we need. It’s only fair we use a bit of it and send Matty to Richmond Academy. I insist.”

  “Mother! Why can’t you accept we don’t want, or need, your money? Jake is offended, and frankly, I am too.”

  Alma laughed. “Don’t be silly, dear. There’s nothing to be offended about.”

  “Jake feels you look at him as not being a good provider.” She raised her voice and said, “Well let me tell you something mother! Jake is the best father Matty could ever hope for. And the best husband.”

  “Calm down dear. I’m not threatening his manhood.”

  “Oh, but you are. Every time you think you know better than him, you are threatening him.”

  Alma laughed again, and then said sharply, “I’m only trying to help. Your father agrees with me.”

  Annie suspected her father didn’t know anything about this. Her mother was always trying to butt in to their affairs. “Mother, I have things to do. I have to go.”

  “Just keep it in mind dear. Maybe talk to Jake about it.”

  “I don’t need to talk to Jake. Goodbye Mother.”

  Annie stabbed at the phone, hanging up. She tossed it back into the basket, and shook her head in exasperation.

  Chapter 25

  Saturday, August 13th, 11:00 AM

  LISA KRUNK unclicked her seatbelt and climbed from the passenger seat of the van. She looked at the sprawling mansion in front of her, and hurried determinably toward its double front doors.

  She glanced back over her shoulder. Her cameraman, who had been driving the vehicle, had just removed his equipment from the side door, and was resting the camera on his shoulder. She frowned at him, and waved for him to hurry up.

  “Let’s go, Don. Come on,” she said impatiently.

  He hurried to follow her. He knew better than to keep her waiting.

  Lisa stopped for a minute and looked at the house in front of her. This was big news. An affluent family, in an affluent neighborhood. Her thin lips tightened in resolve. For a moment, she dreamed about that Pulitzer she felt destined to receive some day. This story was a stepping-stone in the right direction. The biggest news this crappy little town had seen in a long, long, time.

  She raised her head. Her thin sharp nose sniffed, and she strode on.

  Don was close behind her as she reached the final step leading to the entrance of the house. She approached the door and clanged the knocker once, twice, three times, checked her microphone, and waited.

  The door swung open. A young Asian girl poked her head out. “May I help you?”

  “I would like to see Amelia James,” Lisa demanded.

  “May I ask who’s calling, please?”

  Lisa frowned. “It’s Lisa Krunk, from Channel 7. I would like to ask her a few questions.”

  “Please wait here. I’ll see if she’s available.”

  Lisa waited, tapping her foot impatiently.

  It seemed to be taking forever. Who did these people think they were?

  The door opened again. “I’m sorry, but Mrs. James says she has no comment at this time.”

  The door began to close.

  Lisa stuck her foot in the doorway. The door stopped. The girl looked out.

  “Just a couple of questions, please,” Lisa said. “It will only take a minute.” Her voice was a little kinder now.

  “I’m sorry. She said no.”

  Lisa stared furiously, and removed her foot, allowing the door to snap shut. She stood there a moment, feeling indignant, determined.

  She wheeled around swiftly, and spoke to Don, “Come on. This way.”

  She raced down the steps, and across the lawn to the corner of the house.

  Don shook his head. He realized what she was planning, but obediently followed her.

  There was a wooden gate at the edge of the house, separating the front from the back. Lisa peered through a crack in the gate. She could see a flagstone path leading toward the back yard, and the rear of the house.

  She tested the gate. It was unlatched. After glancing back to make sure her cameraman was still behind her, she pushed the gate. It swung inward, and tapped lightly as it came to rest against the wall.

  She walked boldly toward the rear of the dwelling. Don followed.

  Without breaking stride, she rounded the back corner of the house, continuing along the walkway that swung around, and then widened, running across the back of the building.

  Her wide mouth tightened into a triumphant smile as she saw her prey a dozen yards ahead. Mrs. James was bent over the flowerbed, snipping some flowers.

  Lisa strode ahead, her microphone in front, ready. Don moved slightly to the left, his camera beginning to whir.

  Mrs. James looked up quickly. Her mouth flew open and she rose to her feet, hands
on her hips. Frowning now.

  Lisa was undaunted. “Mrs. James,” she said, as she took the last step and stopped, pushing the microphone at her, “I would like to ask you a couple of questions, if I may?”

  “I already told you I had no comment.”

  “Please Mrs. James, your daughter is missing, and our viewers are greatly concerned. We want to help,” Lisa lied.

  Amelia hesitated. She dropped her hands and folded them in front of her, and then raised her head and took a deep breath, as the frown disappeared.

  “Perhaps a couple of questions would be ok,” she said reluctantly.

  Lisa smiled.

  The camera whirred.

  Amelia waited.

  Lisa reached inside herself, looking for some kind words to say. It was difficult, but she knew she could fake it as good as anybody.

  “Mrs. James,” she said, “We all sympathize with you at this difficult moment. You can be sure the thoughts and prayers of our concerned viewers are with you and Jenny right now.”

  “Thank you,” Amelia said quietly.

  “Your daughter has been missing for ten days. Do you have anything you’d like to say to her abductor if he is watching?”

  Amelia looked down a moment, and then lifted her head and said, “My daughter, Jenny, is the sweetest person I know. Please, allow her to go. She’s never hurt anyone, and please, please, I need her, and so do her friends.”

  Lisa loved this. Heart wrenching stuff was always good. She kept the microphone pointed, and waited for more.

  Amelia continued. “If for some reason you can’t let her go right now, then please, let me or the police know she’s ok.” She was crying lightly now. A tear reached her chin.

  Lisa looked at the tear. Good stuff. Great television.

  Don knew Lisa would want him to zoom in now. He did.

  Amelia hesitated, so Lisa spoke. “As you know, the man she was last seen with has been found dead. Are you afraid the same fate has happened to Jenny?” Lisa hoped that wasn’t too cold.