by Kate Morris
“Even worse.”
“Right. She never understood. All she wanted was a bigger house, better neighborhood…”
“You didn’t have kids, though, right?”
“No, I wanted kids. She definitely didn’t. She made that clear many times. Of course, she never said that before we got married. She waited until afterward to drop that bomb,” he said, hating those memories. “I was kind of an idiot back then, I guess.”
“She sounds like a manipulative liar.”
Jack laughed. “Leave it to you, Evans, to spit the truth.”
“I’m just observing and giving my opinion from what I hear.”
He said, “No, you’re probably right. She did lie. She also had an affair right under my nose with the D.A.”
“Victor was the District Attorney?”
“Yep, nice, isn’t it? I’m working with his office, handing over criminals for prosecution, he’s screwing my wife,” he said, this statement of fact causing him to swallow hard.
“What a jackhole,” Lorena said. “Did you kick his ass for it?”
“What do you think? He was the D.A.”
She nodded as they walked down the stairs toward his house. “Right, kinda’ hard to stay outta’ jail by beating up the man who puts people there.”
“I told her we could go to therapy, but she didn’t want to. She wanted out. Honestly, I wanted her gone, too. My Irish Catholic roots were telling me to work it out, go to therapy with her, get her to repent and all that shit. My sensibilities, however, told me to get rid of the bitch. So we split.”
“And now we’re back, and you’re having to deal with them again. This sucks,” Lorena said with sympathy.
“Bad luck,” he added.
“Bad luck would be better than this. You’ve got no luck, Foster,” she teased.
“Feels like it,” he said and unlocked the patio door again. “Do you want to keep talking about this?”
“No!” she blurted without thinking.
“Good,” he concurred. “Me, neither.”
“We’ve got a case to solve.”
“So I can get the hell away from my ex and her new hubby,” Jack reminded her.
“And I can go back to Ohio where I can warm up.”
“It’s March, Evans,” he reminded her. “I don’t think it’s gonna be that warm.”
“At least it won’t be raining. I’d rather have snow than this, and I hate snow.”
“You need to transfer to Miami,” he said.
“Right, I forgot you worked down there, too,” she said. “Marry any stuck-up assholes while you were there?”
He laughed loudly. She was definitely funny when she wanted to be. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not even a steady girlfriend. I was definitely on a hiatus from women, especially the crazy ones.”
“Good, then, yes, we can visit Miami for our next case.”
Lorena and he took fast, separate showers before starting back up with the investigation. While he waited for her to come out of the bedroom, Jack searched the internet for the two men that Elizabeth gave over. Nothing negative came up. They were both heralded as pillars of their communities and generous donors to the arts. Jack logged into the databases he needed to pull background checks on both men. Victor Moreti was not a U.S. citizen, so he’d need help on his background. Harvey Phillips was a Brit ex-pat, so Jack was able to pull his history. Jack was surprised to see a spreadsheet popping up on the man. He was definitely not squeaky clean. Fraud charges were at the top of the list all the way down to petty theft. He was only in the database to about ten years ago when he became a citizen. Jack wondered what his rap sheet in Great Britain looked like. He’d have Craig get in contact with Interpol. He just hoped they worked quickly.
They got back to work, and Jack didn’t even mind when she went to the wall and did a handstand for a long time with her earbuds stuck in her small ears. He hadn’t talked to anyone about his divorce, not even his family, not like he had tonight. All they knew is that he and Elizabeth were splitting. He didn’t tell them that she was cheating on him with someone. For some reason, he hadn’t wanted them to hate her. Maybe someday, he’d tell his mom. It might make the divorce a little easier to handle if she knew the truth. He was pretty sure that none of his family, his sisters included, had liked Elizabeth all that much. They’d been kind to her when Jack went home for a visit, which wasn’t often, but they hadn’t welcomed her in with much warmth and tenderness. Not like they had with Lorena and Grace. Maybe they saw in her what he couldn’t until it was over.
He looked over the suspect list, with Skylar’s father being at the top of theirs. He was reluctant to let that one go. He also had the names of the two charity creeps on the board now.
His phone buzzed, and he found Craig on the other end.
“I tried to get Lorena,” Craig said. “Is she busy?”
“Doing yoga. Not busy, unless solving this case means busy. Then, yeah, she’s busy in her own brain figuring it out.”
“Probably,” Craig acknowledged with a chuff. “Can you guys come back to the office? We’ve got a suspect in custody.”
“We’re on our way,” Jack said. “Did you get the names of the two I texted you?”
“Sure did.”
“Is it one of them that you’ve got down there?”
Craig answered, “No, we’ve been working a solid lead. Got someone here to question. Thought you’d want to watch the interview.”
“We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Right. You’re farther out now. It’s fine. We’ll let him sit while we wait for you to get here.”
“Thanks,” Jack said and disconnected.
He went over to his partner, who had her eyes closed, and tapped her leg, which was still in the air. Lorena’s hazel eyes popped open, she looked up at him, and kicked down to the floor. It was graceful and fluid, not something Jack would’ve been capable of doing. He probably would’ve put a hole in the floor when he landed.
“What’s up?” she asked as she removed her earbuds.
“Suspect in custody. Not one of ours. Craig’s waiting down at the bureau for us.”
“Let me get dressed,” she said of her sweatpants and long-sleeved tee.
Once she had on jeans, the same shirt, and her hooded leather jacket, they went back to the car again. Within twenty minutes, Jack had them back at the bureau’s office where they met Craig behind the glass wall of the interrogation room.
“Who is it?” Lorena asked, taking the offered file. She tipped it so that Jack could also see.
“Jeremy Titus,” Craig answered. “Thirty-one, works with a fishing operation here locally but originally from Florida. Long rap sheet for misconduct with minors, released six months ago from a prison in California. He did four years for rape of a twelve-year-old girl. Registered sex offender. Lives less than seven miles from the Neumann’s and about two from her school.”
Jack pondered it over for a moment, thinking about everything they knew about Trix.
“What’s the connection?” Jack asked, wondering how, other than the sex offender list, they came to suspect this man.
“He was working side jobs to get by, as well as the fishing gig. He occasionally worked for a concrete finisher here in Portland. The Neumann’s just had a patio finished about six weeks ago in the backyard.”
Jack finished his sentence, “Right, and he was there on the job.”
“Exactly. We checked into every person the contractor had on the job site. He’s the only one with a rap sheet. He likely would’ve seen Hailee coming and going. He’s a sex offender that likes young girls. The job was a big one. We talked to the contractor, who didn’t do a background check on Titus, and he said the job took a full week to do. It puts Titus around the Neumann property for a long enough time to get the layout, watch for patterns. You know. You get where I’m going with this.”
Jack nodded and asked, “Search his place yet?”
“Working
on the warrant and with his parole officer right now,” he said, looking at Lorena. “I’m going in to question him. Would you like to come with me, Evans?”
There were other agents nearby, or else Jack was sure he’d have called her by her first name. Most of the time he did, which only bolstered his theory of Craig having more than just professional feelings for Lorena.
“Huh? Yeah, sure,” she said distractedly. “Gimme’ a minute.”
She wandered off to a corner, taking the file with her.
“You sure it’s a good idea to take her in with you?” Jack questioned. “I mean, the dude did send her a letter and has some sort of sick fixation on Evans.”
“We’ll be fine,” Craig countered. “Besides, she can do one of her ninja kicks to his face if he gets outta’ line.”
Jack chuckled and so did Craig as Lorena returned.
“That’s true,” Jack said.
“What’s true?” Lorena asked.
“Nothing,” they both muttered.
He hated to see her go but waited behind the two-way mirror with other agents as she went into the room with the potential psychopath and confirmed sex offender sitting there. He looked like a real winner. His dirty dishwater-blonde hair was stringy, hanging down in a ponytail about eight inches below his collar. He had a long, handlebar style mustache and even longer sideburns. His red flannel shirt had seen better days and matched his baggy, holey brown corduroys, and he was missing some teeth. For being so young, Jeremy Titus looked like he just stepped out of a bad seventies movie.
“Mr. Titus,” Craig said as he took a seat. Lorena took one next to him and patiently waited while Craig made the introductions.
The man’s gaze instantly snapped to Lorena, scanning her closely and with unguarded interest. He licked his lips, his eyes lit up, and he grinned like a wolf. Jack wanted to warn the guy. She was no hen. She’d shoot him in the face in the blink of an eye and go right back to a yoga pose a second later. Jack studied her, too, but for different, less disgusting reasons. He wanted to see what Lorena thought of the man. He could see the wheels turning behind her eyes as she observed the criminal before her.
Craig asked for his whereabouts at the time of Hailee’s disappearance.
“Just got home from work,” he answered and returned to staring at Lorena, who was ignoring him and writing on the legal pad in front of her.
“From which job?”
“Fishing boat. I work as a deckhand.”
Craig asked, “What time did you get home?”
“Same time as always. Around six or so.”
“Do you live alone?”
“Yeah, so what? That illegal now, too?”
Craig kept his cool and asked, “When’d you leave the docks? Stop off at a bar or a friend’s house in between work and going home?”
“No, man, I went straight home.”
The agent beside Jack said to him, “No, he didn’t. We already know from the captain of the boat and two other men that they got off early that day because of the weather.”
“What time?”
“Three,” the agent answered.
In the interrogation room, Craig asked, “Is there anyone who could corroborate that?”
“I don’t know. Why you askin’ all these questions, man? What am I doin’ here?”
“Just answer the questions. We’re asking. You’re answering,” Craig retorted.
“Whatever, man. I didn’t do nothin’. I don’t know why you guys are bustin’ my balls.”
“So, you don’t have anyone who can say that they saw you go straight home after work or anyone at your house who could verify this timeframe for me?”
His eyes shifted from Craig to Lorena. “What you writin’ girl?”
“A list of things not to do during a police questioning,” she answered without looking up. “So far, you’re nailing all of them. Good job.”
He smiled, then realized she was insulting him and glared.
Craig redirected the man’s attention back to the interview, “And from time to time you do cement work with Absolute Concrete Company?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Do you remember working on a job at the Neumann residence?”
“Who?”
“Victor Neumann?” Craig asked and gave the address and a brief description of the house and the concrete work they did there.
“Oh, yeah, rich dude,” he remarked.
“What do you remember about the people coming and going from Mr. Neumann’s residence?”
“Like the maid or something?”
“The maid, the family, their guests,” Craig explained. “Do you remember anything about them?”
“I don’t know. The wife was a snobby bitch. I remember her,” he said. “We parked her in, and she threw a hissy fit. Probably late for a fuckin’ wine tasting or some shit.”
“Did you personally interact with Mrs. Neumann?”
“Yeah, sure, we talked for a while, she offered me some blow, and then we went upstairs and fucked like rabbits.”
“Rabbits?” Lorena asked, pouncing on his use of the word. “What about them? What do you know about rabbits?”
“What? What the fuck would I know about rabbits, lady?”
“Ever dream about them?” she pressed.
The man paused a long time, staring at Lorena as if she’d lost her mind. Then he burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny? People dream about all sorts of things,” Craig said.
“You people are fuckin’ weird. Ya’ know that? I meant hump like bunnies, fuck like rabbits. Haven’t you ever heard the saying?”
If he was their Trix, he certainly didn’t seem to know what she was referring to. Or this whole thing was an act of ignorance.
Craig redirected again with, “Did you meet their children, Mr. Titus? They have a son and a daughter.”
“No. I didn’t meet their kids.”
“There are surveillance cameras on the property,” Craig said, although Jack knew that Victor never hooked them up. “We could check them if we need to.”
“Then check ‘em. All I did was work the job. I didn’t bother the bitchy wife or the kids.”
“Never met their daughter?” Lorena asked, drawing his stare again. “She’s eighteen, pretty, your type.”
He glared at her now, his eyes narrowing on Lorena with hatred. If he’d found her attractive at the beginning of the meeting, he certainly didn’t anymore.
“Maybe watch her through her window upstairs?” Lorena continued when she didn’t get a response. “Check her out when she got home from school, spy on her through the kitchen window when she went inside.”
“What? Fuck that! I ain’t going back to prison. I didn’t touch that woman or her kids. Is that what this is about? Did that bitch try to say I did something?”
“Where’d you grow up, Mr. Titus?” Lorena asked, catching him off guard.
“What? California. I grew up outside of L.A.”
Lorena nodded. Jack was fairly sure she didn’t believe this man was the one they were hunting, either. Trix likely grew up in the Midwest, in flyover farm country. He suspected this bum grew up surfing and smoking dope, apparently too often because his brain seemed like it was misfiring. Still, he was a pervert who liked young girls, and he had a record to prove it.
The interview went on for another hour as Craig drilled him. Then he was sent back to his cell to await whether or not he’d be released. They convened in a conference room to discuss Titus. With himself and Lorena, there were thirteen people total. Jack never worked well in such big groups. Like Lorena, he was a loner and preferred to work with just her or by himself.
Everyone was in a discussion that was growing heated as to whether or not they had enough to detain him.
Jack leaned over and murmured to Lorena, who sat next to him, “What’d you think?”
“Doubt if it’s him. He doesn’t seem smart enough to have pulled off her abduction. He would’ve had to have wat
ched their house closely to pick up on habits of when people were there and when Hailee was alone.”
“I don’t know if she would’ve opened the door to someone like him, either,” Jack observed. “She’s a smart kid. Hailee’s not stupid.”
“How do you know? You talk about her sometimes like you know her.”
Jack sighed and said, “I do a little.”
She waited for him to continue.
“I should’ve told you. When Elizabeth and I split up, it wasn’t like I didn’t know where she went. Victor was the D.A. I knew him. He was always an asshole. I never liked him. He was one of those dick district attorney types. You know the kind. They want you to practically try the case for them. You hand him the murderer with a confession, and it’s still not enough.”
She smirked and nodded.
“Hailee reached out to me through email. She found out who Elizabeth was and contacted me through my email at work. She was upset. She didn’t like Elizabeth at all, and she’d only lost her mother about a year before that. She didn’t want Elizabeth getting involved with Victor.”
“Maybe she wanted to protect her if he was abusive.”
He frowned, “I hadn’t thought of that at the time, but maybe. I never knew of him to be abusive, just a real dick.”
“How many times did she email you?”
“Probably half a dozen. She felt bad about her dad cheating with Elizabeth. I doubt if they told her, but when Elizabeth moved in, she would’ve figured it out pretty quick.”
“How old was she then?”
He paused, “Let me think. I worked in Miami for two years. Four years up here…”
“I thought you lived here when you were married?”
“Yep, wedded bliss.”
She frowned.
“What?” he asked.
Lorena asked, “Was Portland your first police job?”
“No, I worked as a patrol officer in North Carolina for a few years. Then up in Juneau for another few. Then I took an opening in vice here.”
“Alaska?”
He grinned, “I told you’ve I’ve been around.”
Lorena looked at him with surprise, “I guess so.”
He smiled widely before saying, “Spent a little time in Iraq, too.”
