Heinous (Faces of Evil)

by Debra Webb

  Lori met her gaze over the roof of her shiny red car. “Are you letting him off the hook that easily?”

  “For now.”

  As Lori backed out of the drive, Jess reached for her cell. “I’ll let Dr. Baron know we’re on our way.” Before she could open her contacts list, Hayes called. Jess hit the speaker option. “I hope you have good news for me, Lieutenant. I have you on speaker. Detective Wells is with me.”

  “The good news is Amanda Brownfield was telling the truth.”

  “Go on, Lieutenant.”

  “A man wearing a ski mask picked her up at the club. Her description was on target.”

  Surely the vehicle the man was driving was on the video as well. “Did you get anything on the car?”

  “That’s the bad news. The driver must have noticed the security cameras because he backed all the way out of range, keeping the license plate away from the camera.”

  Not the news she wanted to hear. “You can see what kind of car he was driving, right?” At least that would give them something.

  “Oh yeah,” Hayes confirmed. “He’s driving a black Infiniti.”

  Jess and Lori exchanged a knowing look. “Thank you, Lieutenant. We need a copy of that footage.”

  “Taking care of it now.”

  The call ended and Jess tucked her phone away.

  “So our dark-haired friend is back.” Lori eased into traffic on Willow Street.

  “Looks that way.”

  Jess had first spotted the dark-haired man in the Infiniti about a month ago. He’d nudged the back bumper of her car. When she’d looked in the rearview mirror, he’d been holding a handgun aimed at her. As he’d driven away, she’d received a text from Spears. Bang! Do you like this game so far?

  She’d spotted the dark-haired man several times after that day, watching her and delivering the occasional message from Spears, until about two weeks ago when he’d seemed to vanish.

  “He’s been MIA for the past couple of weeks,” Lori said, echoing Jess’s thought.

  “I guess he’s back.”

  “Better the devil you know.”

  Spears followers seemed to come out of nowhere. There was no way of recognizing those faces of evil coming at them until a message was delivered, usually with a body.

  Jess might not know his name, but, as Lori pointed out, this follower she could at least see coming.

  Jefferson County Coroner’s Office, 5:20 p.m.

  “Someone wanted the good reverend to bleed out a little more slowly, but not slow enough to risk anyone finding him in time to save him.”

  Jess studied the slash to Gordon Henshaw’s femoral artery in his left thigh. “What do you mean?”

  Sylvia picked up a scalpel. “If you want the blood to flow quickly without impediment, you cut the artery at an angle so the walls can’t attempt to close themselves. In this instance, your killer was very careful. He made a nice straight incision. The artery walls immediately contracted, attempting to restrict the blood flow, which slowed exsanguination by several minutes.”

  Anger expanded in Jess’s chest. Spears made this man suffer... to send her a message. Spears was a sociopathic serial killer. Causing pain and death gave him pleasure, but this victim—this poor old man—was chosen because he was connected to her past.

  Your aunt says you’ve been getting into fights at school. Jess remembered sitting in Preacher Gordon’s office and explaining how the other kid had hit her first. She’d done exactly what her new friend, Buddy Corlew, had told her to do. Her aunt, Wanda Newsom, had hauled her all the way to Irondale to see Henshaw.

  Jess blocked the sights and sounds from her childhood. With far too many questions and not nearly enough answers about her past, there was at least one she had the power to resolve. “I need DNA testing on Amanda Brownfield.”

  Sylvia arched an eyebrow in blatant speculation. “Do we have a comparison source?”

  “We do. You can take the necessary sample now.”

  Sylvia held Jess’s gaze for a long moment. “I see.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “I have a friend at one of the private labs in town. With a priority rush, I could possibly have something back to you by the end of the week.”

  “The end of the week would be good.”

  If Amanda Brownfield was related to her by blood, Jess wanted to know.

  5

  Birmingham Police Department, 5:50 p.m.

  “State your name and rank for the record.”

  “Chief of Police Daniel Burnett.” Dan gritted his teeth to prevent telling his old friend that everyone in the damned room knew who he was. These proceedings were unnecessary. Taking a breath, he reminded himself to relax. He’d spent too much time being prepped by his attorney, Frank Teller, to screw up right out of the gate.

  Deputy Chief Harold Black, Birmingham’s Crimes Against Persons Division Chief, looked over his notes before continuing. Lieutenant Kelvin Roark, Harold’s second in command, sat next to him, the massive case file on the missing Captain Allen lay on the table.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  In the seemingly endless seconds that followed as Dan was sworn in, he tried to understand how this situation had progressed to the point of spiraling out of control. Captain Ted Allen had been a good cop for more than a decade. When had he stopped? More importantly, why hadn’t Dan noticed?

  When Harold hesitated to review his notes before moving on, Teller spoke up, “It is almost six o’clock, Chief Black. Is there some reason you are not prepared to proceed?”

  “I assure you, Mr. Teller, I am ready to proceed.” Harold’s attention rested on his notes once more.

  “Then I suggest you begin.”

  Teller had made it abundantly clear that Dan was to let him handle this interrogation. At the time, Dan had said something like happy to. Not so much now. Now he wanted to reach across the conference table and shake the hell out of Harold.

  Those kinds of actions will only make you look guilty.

  Dan wasn’t guilty. Damn it to hell, why didn’t the people who had known and trusted him for decades acknowledge this? He had a job and a life that needed his attention.

  “I apologize for taking a moment.” Harold looked up and offered a smile. “I needed to refresh my memory. Now. Chief Burnett, I’m going to ask you a series of questions that may seem repetitive, bear with me, please. We need to do this for the official record of this proceeding.”

  Dan leaned back in his chair and tried again to at least appear at ease.

  “You’re aware that Captain Ted Allen remains missing,” Harold stated.

  “Yes,” Dan answered.

  “As the head of the department’s Gang Task Force, Captain Allen answered directly to you and met with you approximately once each week, is that correct?”

  “Yes.” Dan considered for a second or two the rest of what he wanted to say. “He did until about two months ago. At that time, his work required increasingly more of his attention so we often spoke by phone.”

  “When did you become aware of Captain Allen’s work related issues with Deputy Chief Harris? For the record,” Harold went on, “Chief Harris is the Division Chief of the Special Problems Unit.”

  Dan tensed at the mention of Jess’s name. He didn’t want her dragged into this any more deeply than she already was. She didn’t need the stress. “I became aware of the situation during the investigation of the DeShawn Simmons’ case, the final week of July.” Dan still couldn’t think of Jess going into a drug lord’s house demanding answers without starting to sweat. She could have been killed right there under the surveillance of the Gang Task Force.

  “The tension between Captain Allen and Chief Harris continued to escalate, noticeably so during the Grayson murder investigation, until he disappeared on or about August 6, is that correct?” Harold folded his hands in front of him and looked to Dan for a response.

  “Yes. The Grayson case involved the murder of Lieutenant Lawrence G
rayson’s wife. Most of the department, as you well know, was in an uproar over Chief Harris’ decision to investigate Lieutenant Grayson and his partner, Sergeant Jack Riley.”

  “This investigation,” Harold began, “created quite a bad feeling toward Chief Harris.”

  “Please rephrase your remark into the form of a question, Chief Black,” Teller advised, “and identify who allegedly had a bad feeling toward Chief Harris.”

  “Of course. Is it true,” Harold tried again, “that Chief Harris’ investigation into Grayson and Riley created a bad feeling toward her within the department?”

  “Chief Harris proved to be correct about the murder,” Dan answered gladly. “Sergeant Riley and his wife were responsible for Mrs. Grayson’s murder.”

  “Be that as it may, you didn’t answer my question,” Harold argued.

  “How is any of this relevant to my client’s alleged involvement in Captain Allen’s disappearance?” Teller demanded. “This is becoming nothing more than a fishing expedition as well as a colossal waste of time and tax payer dollars.”

  Harold shifted his attention to the attorney. “Mr. Teller, we are investigating the potential homicide of one of our own. Determining the circumstances of all events leading up to Captain Allen’s disappearance is crucial to ruling out the possibility that anyone in this department was involved in his disappearance.”

  “You mean,” Dan cut in, too damned frustrated now to keep his mouth shut, “like the possibility that I was the one who made him disappear.”

  “Please, Dan,” Teller said firmly, “wait for a new question.”

  Harold sighed. “I’ll move on to another question. As chief of police, what did you do to control the situation between Chief Harris and Captain Allen?”

  Dan searched for calm. All he had to do was answer truthfully and professionally. One step at a time, he would get through this. “I warned Captain Allen that he’d better show the proper respect to his superior. I urged Chief Harris to find a way to work with Captain Allen. That’s it. I have no idea how his cell phone ended up in my trashcan. I have—”

  “You’ve answered the question, Dan,” Teller cautioned, cutting him off.

  Dan ignored him. “I have no idea how Allen’s wedding band came to be in my barbecue grill. But I do know a set up when I see one.”

  “For the record,” Teller interjected, “both the trashcan and the barbecue grill were easily accessible to anyone passing on the street.”

  “So noted, Mr. Teller,” Harold stated.

  Dan didn’t trust his instincts about Harold anymore. They had been friends for years, but then, so had he and the mayor. At this point, he wasn’t sure who he could trust besides Jess.

  “The fire at your home was ruled arson,” Harold commented.

  “Is that a question, Chief Black? What are you suggesting?” Teller countered.

  Harold shook his head. “I’m not suggesting anything, sir.” His attention rested on Dan once more. “I’m desperate to solve this case and clear up the confusion.”

  Teller stood. “Well then, until you have enough evidence to consider Chief Burnett a suspect, I would suggest you stop harassing him with the same questions he’s already answered.” He looked to Dan. “This proceeding is over.”

  Feeling more helpless and frustrated than he had when they started, Dan pushed out of his chair.

  “Dan,” Harold stood, “I hope you know I’m doing all I can to sort this out.”

  “I’m confident you are, Harold.” There was a lot more Dan wanted to say, but he decided to be smart and do as his attorney advised this time. Jess needed him to be smart. Whatever happened with this case affected her as well as their child.

  Teller waited until Harold and Roark were gone. “You did fairly well, Dan.” He reached for his brief case. “Next time, remember not to give more than you’re asked. Answer only the question and leave it at that. Easier said than done, I know, but it’s imperative that you restrain the urge to give unnecessary information. You are not guilty until proven otherwise. Black is the one who has to prove his case, not you.”

  “That’s just it.” No one was listening. “There is no case against me. I had nothing to do with Allen’s disappearance.”

  “Then we have nothing to worry about.”

  With that profound statement, Teller left the conference room. Dan wanted to throw something except that would probably make him look guilty, too.

  He made the short journey down the hall to his office and closed the door. His secretary was already gone for the day. A stack of messages and a pile of work waited on his desk. For the first time in his career, he had no desire to tackle either.

  More than anything, he wanted Jess settled. Decisions had to be made about a house and whatever else she and the baby would need in case things went more wrong than they already had. He’d made all the necessary legal arrangements in the event Spears made good on his threat that Dan wouldn’t be around to raise his child. Over the years, he’d taken the trust fund he’d inherited from his grandfather and invested well. Financially, Jess and the baby would have no worries.

  The headstone bearing his name that Spears had delivered elbowed its way into the other troubling thoughts. Dan knew better than to ignore the sick bastard. This very morning Spears, or one of his followers, had murdered another innocent victim, and Jess was out there trying to make sense of his moves in the hope of stopping him.

  Dan closed his eyes and attempted to halt the worries mounting inside him without success. In his pocket, his cell vibrated. He snapped his eyes open. Tension coiled more tightly inside him. He could do without any more bad news today.

  Andrea.

  Dan exhaled a big breath and reached for calm. He’d let his stepdaughter down by not making time for her before she returned to college last month. They’d talked on the phone on several occasions, but it wasn’t the same.

  “Hey there, college girl.”

  “I already hate this semester,” Andrea complained.

  “The semester has barely begun, honey.” Though he and Andrea’s mother had divorced, Dan would always think of Andrea as part of his family. Soon he and Jess had to give her the news about the baby.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just that three of my five professors are going to be A-holes.”

  Dan laughed, the tension that had tightened inside him loosening. “I’m certain they’re all top notch professors. Give them time.”

  “I’ll try.” Silence echoed for a moment. “That’s not really why I called you.”

  A new kind of worry wove its way through him. “Whatever it is, you know I’ll do what I can to help.” He had promised Andrea he’d always be there for her—unlike her biological father.

  “Good because I really, really need you to do something super important for me.”

  “Name it.”

  “Stop working so hard.”

  He frowned. “Who said I was working too hard?”

  “I tried to call you on Friday and then again this morning.”

  His frown deepened. “I didn’t notice any missed calls.”

  “I didn’t call your cell. I called your office in case you were in the middle of something. Shelia said you’re working way too hard. She’s worried about you. So, you have to stop. You’re at that age.”

  Dan couldn’t help himself, he laughed. “I’m not that old, Andrea.”

  “I’m talking,” she said with a harrumph of frustration, “about that age when heart attacks and stuff happen suddenly without any warning. Men your age are under extra stress about their careers and family.”

  He doubted Shelia had volunteered any information about his current career woes. More than likely, Andrea had come to her own conclusions. Her concern warmed him. “You have my word. I will do my best not to work too hard. Starting today.” By the end of the week, he might not have a job.

  “How’s Jess?”

  A smile stretched across his lips. “She’s great.” Telling Andrea ab
out the baby and wedding plans would have to wait until Jess could be a part of the call. “We’ve been house hunting.”

  “You better not be planning a wedding without me,” she fussed.

  “You’ll be the first person we call when the time comes to plan a wedding.”

  She exhaled a big breath, sounding satisfied. “I love you, Dan. Please take better care of yourself. One of these days I’ll marry some hot guy and I want you to walk me down the aisle.”

  Now that made him grin. Made him a little weak-kneed, too. Brandon Denton would not be happy about that arrangement. “As long as I get to approve the groom, I’m there.”

  Andrea told him about her new potential boyfriend, and then she had to go to prepare for an evening class with one of the A-hole professors.

  Dan slid the phone back into his pocket. He hoped he could back up the promises he’d made. He’d made some big promises to Jess and to Andrea, and now another person was depending on him. A smile spread across his face when he thought of the baby. He had started to wonder if this day would ever come. Now here they were, he and Jess, preparing for marriage and parenthood all at once.

  If Dan could be half the father his had been, he would be contented.

  Whether she knew it or not, Jess was going to be an amazing mother. His chest squeezed thinking of her. He loved everything about her. He had since the day he laid eyes on her back in high school. Those rich brown eyes and that gorgeous smile had mesmerized him. He loved the way her blond hair curled if she didn’t dry it. She complained about wrinkles and being out of shape, but in truth, she was even more beautiful now than she had been at seventeen. If they had a little girl, he hoped she was the image of Jess.

  A light rap at his door drew Dan’s attention back to the reality he’d as soon forget. His hard-earned career was in serious jeopardy. “Come in.”

  The door opened and Lieutenant Clint Hayes walked in. “You wanted to see me?”

  Apparently, Dan had wasted his time pulling strings to have Hayes assigned to Jess’s team. The man had failed miserably at keeping her close. Then again, Dan didn’t know what he’d expected. Jess rarely took orders from anyone.