Cold Case True Crime

by Denise N Wheatley

  “Mmm, sushi would be delicious. I’m actually in the middle of clawing my way through an article for the women’s journal on how to manage your anxiety when life gets too overwhelming. Needless to say, I could use a break.”

  “So basically working on a piece that sums up everything you’re going through right now.”

  “Exactly.”

  Gregory got up and opened his office door. The cops standing nearby quickly stepped to the side, their tense expressions appearing apprehensive. The detective acknowledged them with a slight nod, his blank stare more cold than friendly.

  “These dudes are in here acting a little funny toward me,” he muttered into the phone as he swaggered through the police station.

  “I wonder how many of them know what their beloved Chief Wentworth is actually up to.”

  “Speaking of the devil...”

  Gregory walked past the break room and noticed the chief holding court with Officers Baxter and Miller near the vending machine. They were cracking up laughing while toasting with soda cans and slapping one another on the backs.

  “Which devil?” Samantha snarked. “Because there appear to be a whole lot of them in there.”

  “You’re right. But this time I’m referring to Chief Wentworth and his cronies, Baxter and Miller,” he said, keeping his voice low.

  “You mean those two clowns who showed up to my house and conducted that half-ass investigation after Collin busted out my windows?”

  Gregory subdued a laugh as he pushed through the station’s revolving door and walked out into the parking lot.

  “Yeah, those two.”

  “Well, hopefully your meeting with the district attorney will put an end to all this madness and these criminals will finally be charged with their crimes.”

  “That’s my hope, too,” the detective said as he climbed inside his car. “I’m feeling really confident now that we have proof of Kenzie’s email being sent from Collin’s IP address, along with all the other evidence we’ve gathered.”

  “Same here. And I’m looking forward to us making a toast over dinner to what I already know will be a fantastic meeting with the DA.”

  Gregory felt a surge of excitement at the thought of sharing an intimate dinner with Samantha unrelated to the case.

  It had been a long time since he’d actually taken a woman out on a date. Memories of courting an ex-girlfriend back in Chicago came to mind. They’d spent countless nights together, sharing candlelit dinners in Little Italy and dancing to jazz music in tiny clubs in Wicker Park.

  Stop it, Gregory told himself, quickly pushing those thoughts out of his head. The last thing he wanted to do was compare what they had to his old life back in Chicago.

  “Hey, you still there?” she asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

  “Yeah, I am. Sorry about that. What were you saying?”

  “I was saying that I’m going to hang up so I can finish up some work, then start getting ready.”

  “Gotcha. I missed that. I was, uh...thinking about what types of sushi rolls I’m gonna order later,” Gregory lied.

  “Mmm, I’ll have to go online and check out their menu. Good luck with the meeting, and I will be ready when you get here.”

  “Thanks. See you soon.”

  He disconnected the call and took a deep breath.

  Keep your cool. And get your emotions in check... Detective Harris thought as he headed to the DA’s office.

  * * *

  “I CANNOT BELIEVE I let you talk me into this,” Gregory said, shaking his head as a feeling of regret took hold of him. He clutched the steering wheel while making a right turn onto Everhart Avenue, then slowly drove down the street.

  “Trust me, we’re doing the right thing,” Samantha insisted. “This is the last piece of evidence that we need to hand over to the district attorney in order for him to file charges against Collin, Chief Wentworth and whoever else is involved in their drug ring.”

  Detective Harris tapped on the brake and pulled over when Westman’s Automotive Factory came into view. He glanced down at the clock. It was a little after nine o’clock.

  The pair had just left dinner. Gregory and Samantha had spent most of the evening discussing how his meeting with the district attorney went left after the DA insisted that the detective didn’t have enough evidence to execute any warrants, let alone arrests.

  Gregory decided against showing him Collin’s drug ledger since it was obtained without a warrant, making it inadmissible to present as evidence in court.

  After the detective and Samantha left the restaurant, she’d received a text message from Hudson. His friend was working security at Westman’s and agreed to let them inside the factory after hours.

  “So look,” Samantha began, “according to Hudson, the maintenance crew is usually done cleaning at about nine o’clock. So we should be good.”

  “We? What do you mean we? I haven’t agreed to step foot inside that factory with you. Now, for the thousandth time, this is a bad idea, Samantha. The DA isn’t going to use anything you find here, so you could be jeopardizing any case we do end up putting together. And you’re once again risking your life by breaking into this place in search of an alleged drug laboratory that you’re not even sure exists!”

  “But what if it does?” she shot back, her eyes dancing wildly as she stared across the street at Westman’s. “That would be a slam dunk, guaranteeing a prison cell inside the Menard Correctional Center with Collin’s and his father’s names written on it.”

  “So you’re envisioning them being sent to the toughest prison in the state, huh?”

  Samantha threw her hands in the air and looked around in confusion. “Of course! With capital murder, kidnapping and drug trafficking charges against them, where else would they go?”

  “True. But as for this second break-in you’re trying to pull off? Don’t do this. After we gather more evidence and present it to the DA, I’m sure he’ll generate a search warrant so that the factory can be inspected legally.”

  “I’m not breaking in. The security guard is going to let me in. And I hear what you’re saying, but I just can’t pass up this opportunity, Gregory. Now, Hudson is already inside the factory. Should I text him back and let him know we’re here?”

  Gregory rubbed his eyes in frustration then stared out the window. Thoughts of all the various ways things could go wrong flooded his mind.

  “I’m really looking for a way to talk you out of this,” he said.

  “Nothing you say can talk me out of this.”

  The detective shook his head in disbelief. “I cannot believe this is happening right now...” He turned his attention toward Westman’s. “This security guard I see leaning against the wall eating a submarine sandwich, he’s Hudson’s boy?”

  “Yes. And he was friends with Jacob, too. So he wants to see Collin get locked up just as badly as the rest of us. The only reason he’s still working at Westman’s is because he has a family to support.”

  A pang of doubt rattled inside Gregory’s chest. “I’m telling you, Samantha. I am not feeling this. At all.”

  She rolled her eyes and slumped down in her seat.

  “But,” the detective continued, “with that being said, I can go in and meet with Hudson instead of you. It’d be too dangerous for—”

  “No,” Samantha interrupted. “Trust me. Hudson won’t meet with you alone. I have to do this myself.”

  Gregory paused, watching as she slowly glanced over at him.

  “I don’t want a repeat of what happened during the incident at Collin’s house, where you were all alone having to fend for yourself. While I may not agree with what you’re doing here, my conscience won’t allow me to let you do this by yourself. I’m an officer of the law. This meeting is with an informant. That will keep it aboveboard.”

  “Thank
you, Gregory,” she replied softly.

  “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t thank me. I’m not happy with this.”

  “Oh, come on,” Samantha said. “You’ll be thanking me when the district attorney presents the photos I’m about to take to the jury once Collin and Chief Wentworth go to trial.”

  “Let me handle any photos. Remember, it’s a meeting with an informant. I take the lead,” he said.

  “You know what? I—”

  Samantha was interrupted when her cell phone buzzed.

  “Saved by the bell,” she said before grabbing it off her lap and peering down at the screen. “That’s Hudson texting me again. He said that if I’m coming to meet him over at the side door, because there’s no security camera posted above the doorway.”

  Gregory looked up at the parking lot’s back door and noticed a camera hovering over the entryway.

  “He’s just now figuring that out?” he asked, his words tinged with doubt.

  Samantha ignored him. “Beechwood Street—that’s where the side door entrance is located.”

  Without saying another word, Detective Harris took off, speeding down the street and around the corner. He drove in silence, his jaw set tight, his anger and apprehension growing.

  Once at the Beechwood entrance, Gregory threw the car into Park and turned off the headlights.

  Samantha stared at him with wide eyes filled with anger. “Can I expect you to still be here when I come out?” she asked curtly.

  “I’m going in with you,” he said, not looking at her.

  “If you do that, Hudson will bolt.”

  “I told you—I take the lead. Or this isn’t happening.”

  In response, she opened the door and got out. When he did the same, she turned and stopped.

  “Don’t. Don’t come with me. I promise I’ll be careful. I won’t compromise the investigation. If you come with me, it’s over.”

  It’s over. The investigation or them?

  Gregory pushed out a sigh. He knew Samantha would do this with or without him. He had to play by her rules now or deal with the fallout of her going at it alone when he wasn’t around to protect her.

  “Okay,” he gritted out. “I trust you. Now you trust me. If I think you are in trouble, I will come in there. I made a commitment to look after you, and I’ll honor it.”

  “Thank you,” Samantha mumbled, her voice barely a whisper. She sent Hudson a message letting him know she was on her way inside.

  Gregory stayed in the shadows and watched as she approached the factory’s steel-gray side door, every muscle and nerve in his body yelling at him to go after her. He stayed put, watching as the door opened just as she reached up to knock.

  The detective craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of Hudson. But the bleak, dimly lit entryway was too dark for him to make out the figure standing on the doorstep. Within seconds, Samantha slipped inside and the door quickly slammed shut.

  “Please don’t let anything happen to this woman,” Gregory said to himself, closing his eyes.

  Thoughts of Samantha being confronted by Collin or getting hurt while inside the factory flooded his mind.

  The detective’s eyes flew open as a sense of urgency rushed through his body. He couldn’t just stand here and wait. He had to do something.

  His eyes were met with darkness. Only faint streams of light shone down on the desolate street in the distance from the scarce streetlights.

  He pulled out his phone and composed a text message to Samantha.

  Have Hudson send the security guard a text letting him know I’m going to be walking around outside the factory. I need to keep a closer eye on things. If you get the sense that something’s wrong, get the hell out. I’ll be here for you.

  He sent the message, and without waiting for a reply, crept around to the side of the building, eyeing the old, thick, frosted windows lining the factory’s lower level.

  Gregory stooped down and leaned into one of the windows. He held his hands against the sides of his eyes, attempting to peer inside the building. But the cloudy haze covering the glass prevented him from seeing a thing.

  He stood up and stepped away from the window, ignoring the stench of rotting food coming from a rusted-out nearby dumpster. A twinge of angst pulled at his chest as he anxiously waited to hear back from Samantha.

  The detective pulled the phone from his back pocket, checking to see whether she’d texted him back. She hadn’t.

  “Don’t start worrying,” he told himself, struggling to ignore the sense of panic beginning to simmer inside his head.

  When a frigid wind whipped past him, Gregory grabbed a black wool skull cap out of his coat pocket and slipped it over his head. Just as he reached for his black leather gloves, his cell phone buzzed. He exhaled with relief after a text message from Samantha popped up on the screen.

  Hudson let the guard know you’re on the scene. You’re good. We’re in the factory’s overflow supply room now. It’s on the lower level, northeast side. Hudson thinks there’s some sort of secret entrance into the drug lab here. I’ll keep you posted.

  Good, Gregory wrote back. Don’t stay too long. Leave if you don’t find something soon. Otherwise, I’ll come in.

  After the detective sent the message, he pulled on his black leather gloves and scanned the area. There weren’t many cars driving down the road. The only sounds he heard were the wind whistling past his ears and faint rumblings of a freight train in the distance.

  He reached behind him and felt for the nine-millimeter he’d tucked away in the back of his jeans. It was still firmly in place, waiting to be drawn if necessary...

  Chapter Fifteen

  Samantha walked closely behind Hudson. She squinted her eyes in an attempt to see what was in front of her as they tiptoed through the huge, dimly lit supply room.

  Very few of the industrial strip lights hanging from the high ceilings seemed to be working. Those that were flickered off and on sporadically like something from a horror movie, the effect enhanced by creepy buzzing sounds hissing underneath the lights’ surface.

  She tried to ignore the eerie chills crawling up her back and focus on Hudson’s thick, shaggy red hair. But when she heard a loud thud bang against one of the windows, she gasped and practically leaped onto his scrawny back.

  “What the hell was that?” she whispered.

  “Who knows?” he replied nonchalantly, waving his hand in the air as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Probably just a cat or something. Let’s just keep moving.”

  Samantha pursed her lips tightly together, forcing herself not to press the issue. Ava had forgotten to mention just how much of a burnout Hudson was. His drug abuse issues were obvious, from his small pupils and slurred speech to his gaunt appearance and constant scratching. Despite the fact that the factory’s basement was freezing cold, Hudson was sweating profusely.

  But Samantha was trying her best to ignore all that and stay focused on the goal. If she had to follow the lead of a drug addict in order to get Collin and Chief Wentworth behind bars, then so be it.

  “It is so rancid in here,” she whispered, covering her nose with her hand.

  There wasn’t a stream of air circulating through the dank room. Between its musty odor and the stench of sweat wafting off Hudson, Samantha felt as though she might gag.

  “Let’s just find what we’re looking for so we can grab what we need and get the hell outta here,” he mumbled, stomping his feet against the floor as if looking for a trap door.

  Samantha side-eyed him suspiciously. She was beginning to wonder whether he was looking to score drugs inside Collin’s lab as opposed to helping her gather evidence.

  She pulled out her cell phone and turned on the flashlight, then held it up toward the steel shelving units on either side of her. They were packed with sheets of metal, heaps of pl
astics, boxes of rubber and stacks of fiberglass.

  When they reached the end of the aisle, Hudson turned and headed down the next one while continuing to stomp the floor.

  “Hey,” she whispered, knowing they were the only two inside the factory but still feeling the need to keep her voice down, “while you continue to check the floors, I’m going to walk along the walls and see if I can find some sort of hidden door that might lead to the lab.” She felt better on her own, and Hudson wasn’t giving the impression he really knew what he was looking for.

  “All right, cool. Just give me a holler if you find something.”

  “I will. You do the same.”

  Samantha broke off from Hudson and headed toward the front of the supply room. She flashed the light from her phone along the drywall, using her hand to push into it in search of a crease or crevice that doubled as a hidden panel.

  After several moments of silence, Hudson howled so loudly that Samantha practically jumped out of her boots.

  “What’s wrong?” she yelped, charging toward the back of the room.

  “Woo-hoo!” he wailed.

  “Did you find something?”

  “I believe I did. Check this out.”

  Hudson was down on all fours, yanking at a small steel hook that stuck up out of what appeared to be a trap door in the floor.

  “Oh wait, there’s a padlock securing this thing,” he huffed.

  Samantha turned to a shelf next to her and dug around inside several boxes until she found a steel pipe.

  “Here. Try this.”

  Hudson grabbed the pipe, raised it high in the air and cracked it against the padlock.

  The piercing reverberation of metal on metal caused her to flinch.

  “Ooh,” she uttered, hunching her shoulders up toward her earlobes as if that would help muffle the clamor. “Did that do it?”

  “Not that time. But give me a couple more tries.”

  After several more attempts at banging the pipe against the lock, Samantha heard pieces of metal skid across the floor.