by Debra Webb
Hayes didn’t look happy about the road trip. What was it about this guy that made him intent on challenging her orders?
“Manning’s not going to give us any trouble?” Lori asked.
“Gant caved after Sheriff Griggs got involved.” Jess couldn’t adequately express how pleased she was that he’d backed her up. “We have access to any and all aspects of this investigation.”
“Bout time.” Lori grabbed her bag and keys. “I’m driving,” she said to Hayes.
He shrugged. “Fine by me.”
“Sergeant, carry on with your decoding.”
Jess walked over to Cook’s desk. He was still hunkered over his laptop. “Any luck?” She dragged Lori’s chair over next to his.
“No postings for lost dogs matching that description on craigslist or AL.com.” He glanced over at Harper whose back was turned to them. “I posted the pic you sent me in the lost and found. Hopefully, if someone’s out there looking for him, they’ll respond.” He made a face. “You have to be careful though. Someone might try to claim him just so they can do bad things like use him in dog fights or sell him for testing or something.” Cook considered the photo of the dog. “Looks like a thoroughbred. He could be valuable to a breeder. Anyone could try and claim him.”
“I’ll need some sort of proof of ownership.” Jess nodded. “Thanks for the pointer. You have a dog?”
Cook grinned. “Two. A Lab and a Golden Retriever. They keep me company.”
“I really appreciate it. Someone is probably franticly searching for him.” He really was cute, as puppies went.
“I’ll call some of the vets around town and Animal Services to see if a yellow Lab pup has been reported missing. Don’t worry, Chief, I’ll field any calls on my cell.”
“Thanks.” Jess rolled Lori’s chair back to her desk.
“Chief?”
Jess turned back to the officer she hoped would be a detective before the year was out.
“Thanks for the recommendation. Detective Wells told me she’d never seen such an outstanding one.”
“You earned it, Chad.” Jess had gotten word this morning that Cook’s package was missing her written recommendation since she hadn’t known in advance he was taking the exam. She and Lori had put it together first thing. Since, technically, she had been the one to suggest Cook start prepping for the exam, she decided not to ask him why he hadn’t discussed moving forward with her. “You’re a great asset to this team.”
His cheeks reddened the slightest bit. Had she ever been that young?
The door opened and a man poked his head in and looked around, his gaze landing on Jess. Harper was blocking his path before he stepped across the threshold.
“You lost, sir?”
“I’m here to see Chief Harris.”
Jess studied the man. Tall. Medium build. Middle-aged, salt and pepper hair. Distinguished. He looked vaguely familiar. “I’m Chief Harris.”
“Robert Ellis.” The man’s expression seemed to harden right before her eyes. “I’m here to find out what happened to my brother.”
Surprised, Jess directed him to her desk. “Have a seat, Mr. Ellis.”
Harper returned to his work at the case board but kept an eye on Ellis.
Ellis stood before her desk until Jess had taken her seat.
“I’m very sorry about your brother, Mr. Ellis.”
“Bob. Call me Bob, please.”
“Bob.” She indicated the chair next to him.
“I’ve been out of the country for three months,” Bob explained as he took a seat. “I only returned two days ago. I was stunned to learn Richard was dead. The Boston police told me nothing. So I came here.”
Jess couldn’t decide if Bob was distraught over his brother’s death or angry. The biggest question at the moment, however, was how had they missed a brother? “Excuse my confusion but I was under the impression Richard didn’t have any family.”
Bob dropped his head for a moment. “My brother and I have been estranged for years. I can’t even remember the last time we spoke or saw each other.” He let go a heavy breath. “I want to understand what happened. He was accused of murder? Then he killed himself in his holding cell?”
Jess was tempted to ask him if he really wanted to hear this. Then she thought of Amanda Brownfield and the uncertainty surrounding her own father. “We believe Richard committed a number of murders, some in this country and some in others. I can only speculate about the older murders, but here, in Birmingham, he was a co-conspirator in at least four. He may have committed suicide to avoid a trial and years on death row.”
Bob was silent for a time. “All these years.” He laughed softly, agonizingly. “I assumed that one day we’d put the past behind us and resume a relationship. That won’t happen now.”
“I wish I could tell you more.” This was the part Jess disliked the most about her job. What did you say to the family? Your brother was a sociopath who liked ripping people’s hearts out? Maybe not.
“Where is he?”
In hell, Jess imagined. “Since we weren’t aware of any next of kin and this was his current city of residence, his body would have been turned over to a local funeral home for burial.” Jess leaned to one side. “Officer Cook, would you help Mr. Ellis—Bob,” Jess smiled at the man, “locate the funeral home that took care of Richard Ellis?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cook reached for the phone.
Jess stood. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Bob. If you’ll have a seat over there with Officer Cook, he’ll make sure you find your brother.”
Ellis pushed to his feet. “Thank you for being so kind in spite of what he did. I don’t know what made him become such a devil.”
Jess accepted the hand he extended. “Safe travels back to Boston, Bob.”
Before she could turn her attention back to the case board, her cell rang. She unearthed it from her bag. Sylvia. Tension gripped her. “You have something new on Amanda?”
“I have the DNA results.”
Jess held her breath.
“You and Amanda shared a parent, Jess.”
For several seconds Jess couldn’t grasp the words she needed to say. “Thank you for taking care of this for me. Any word on... the other?”
“I should have the results on the fetus in the next forty-eight hours.”
Jess thanked her again and ended the call. She couldn’t share this with anyone else right now. Not until she talked to Dan and to Lil. She grabbed her bag and walked over to Harper. “Sergeant, I have to see my sister. Call Nicole Green and ask her if we can have a few minutes with Maddie. I’ll have Lil meet us there.”
How did she explain this to Lily when she didn’t understand any of it herself?
Mott Street Residence, Noon
“She’s beautiful.” Lil swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.
“She is.”
“When will they tell her about her mother?”
“Soon, I suppose.”
Lil crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t believe he did this.”
Her sister was angry now. The shock and sadness would come later. “I will find out why.” Somehow. With Amanda and her mother dead, it might not be easy.
“You’ve known this for a week and you didn’t tell me?”
“I’ve only known for a few days.” Jess put her arm around her sister’s shoulder and watched Maddie romp around the backyard for a few moments. “Until about two hours ago, all I had was a murderer’s story, Lil. I had to be sure before I put you through this emotional wringer. Trust me, it wasn’t anyplace you wanted to be.”
Lil sighed. “I know.” She scrubbed her eyes again. “Our lives always seemed so normal. How could our father have been this kind of monster?”
That was the big question. “You don’t remember any arguments or strange events?” Lil was only twelve when they died but a twelve year old should remember more than a ten year old.
Lil shook her head. “I remember going to the
grocery store, getting ready for school, and family dinners. I remember all sorts of things, but no arguments or tension.” She turned to Jess. “How could we not have felt the tension? When the kids were little, if Blake and I argued, they were always upset about it. How could we have been completely oblivious to something like this?”
“I wish I knew the answer.” Jess had wracked her brain for memories and nothing suggesting trouble between her parents surfaced.
Lil frowned at Jess. “You didn’t tell me Reverend Henshaw was murdered either. God. I read in the paper that he’d died, but not that he’d been so gruesomely murdered.”
“He never visited you? You never ran into him at the grocery store? At a funeral or a wedding?”
Lil shook her head. “I haven’t seen him since we were kids.”
“He left me a key. I think maybe it goes to a music box. Didn’t Mom have a jewelry box or something that played music?”
Lil mulled over the question. “Yes. Yes she did. It played...” She made a face. “I can’t remember the name of the tune.”
“Do you have any idea what happened to it?”
“Most everything was put in storage and God only knows what happened to it. Wanda probably stopped paying the rent and it ended up being sold.”
“There was a storage unit?”
“Yeah. I think so. Wanda took me there once to pick up a box of clothes.”
Why hadn’t Wanda told her about this? “Did she ever mention it again?”
Lil shrugged. “You know we rarely saw her after Mom and Dad died. I’ve seen her a few times since the kids were born, but only in passing until recently.”
“I remember she would show up from time to time and demand to take us with her.” Jess had spent most of her life trying to forget those events. Maybe that was the reason she couldn’t recall any trouble between her parents.
“She was always drunk or high. Our foster parent would call the police.” Lil sighed. “It’s a miracle we survived and turned out to be normal.”
“No kidding.” Jess wasn’t so sure about the normal part or the miracle, but she could definitely use one right now.
Actually, she would settle for some straight answers.
19
Birmingham Police Department, 12:50 p.m.
Dan finished the last of the documents that required his signature then tossed the folder into the outbox. On second thought, he grabbed the folder and carried it to his secretary.
“I believe that clears my desk.”
Shelia nodded, her face cluttered with emotion. “Chief Black called. He’s on his way up.”
Dan gave her a nod. “When he arrives, send him on in.”
Frank Teller had called Dan already. Pratt had signed the papers. As of close of business today, Dan was officially on administrative leave until the Allen and Dority cases were resolved. No surprise. No need for Teller or the union rep to be here for the official proclamation.
Dan returned to his desk without bothering to close the door. Black would explain how this would play out. He had a duty to carry out, nothing personal.
If Jess were here, she would argue that point.
A rap on his door had Dan bracing. When he’d accepted this position four years ago, he certainly hadn’t expected things to end this way.
“Chief,” Harold Black acknowledged as he strode across the room.
“Harold.” Dan hadn’t intended to sound bitter, but somehow he did.
Harold stopped in front of his desk and passed a thin manila folder to Dan. “You know as well as I do this is only temporary. As soon as we have this mess with Allen and Dority straightened out, you’ll be back. Consider it a vacation. You’ll have time to find a new home and buy a new car. I’m sure you have plenty to keep you busy for a couple of weeks.”
“I do.” Dan tossed the folder on his desk without looking at it. It wasn’t necessary.
“I’ll do my very best to uphold the standards you have set for this office, Dan, until your return.”
“I’m confident you will. Roark will be acting over your division, I presume?”
“He will. Yes. Did you have a different candidate in mind?”
Dan shook his head. “Roark is the obvious choice.”
“He’s a good man.”
“I’ll have my desk cleared by the end of the day.”
Harold gave another nod and then he left.
A hesitant rap at his door drew Dan’s attention there once more. Tara.
“Chief, I picked up those boxes.” She placed the boxes between the chairs in front of his desk. “Is there any way I can help?”
“I’ve got it, Tara. Thank you.”
She dabbed at her eyes. “Yes, sir.”
At the door, she hesitated, looked back once more. “Shelia and I know you’ll be back, Chief. We’re already planning a big celebration.”
Dan gave her a smile but words escaped him.
For the next hour, Dan tucked all his personal possessions into the boxes. Instead of focusing on the task, he thought of all the things he needed to take care of. Harold hadn’t been wrong about him needing time. The house and car were only the beginning.
As he closed the final box, he made another decision. He wasn’t putting off what he wanted for another day. In fact, he intended to leave early and take care of at least one item on his to-do list today.
Since the announcement wouldn’t hit the news until the five o’clock airing, he had time to talk to his parents as well. They deserved to hear this from him.
First, he had to tell Jess.
He picked up his cell and put through the call. The sound of her voice made him smile. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
“I’m officially on administrative leave as of close of business today.”
“I hope Black doesn’t get too comfortable.”
Dan had to smile at the fire in her tone. “I think he knows better.”
“A wise man told me something recently that I’ve been holding onto.”
“What’s that?”
“We just have to get through this. Safely.”
His smile widened. “We will,” he promised.
Before letting her go, he got an update on where she was. He’d feel a lot better when this day was over and she was at home with him.
Dan walked over to the window and looked out over the city he loved. He’d been wrong all those years ago when he’d left Jess in Boston. They would probably be celebrating their eighteenth or nineteenth anniversary and have a couple of kids running around by now if he hadn’t walked away.
Instead, he’d spent the past twenty years building this career and discovering that no other woman could replace Jess. He banished those painful thoughts. They were together now and that was what mattered. He would spend however many years he had left being the very best husband and father he knew how.
On his desk, his cell vibrated with an incoming text. He checked the screen. Private number.
As he read the message, fury tightened his gut.
This is only the beginning of your end. Brace yourself, ex-Chief of Police Burnett.
“Son of a—”
The damned thing rang and he had to fight the impulse to throw it across the room. Sylvia. Jess had already told him about Amanda Brownfield’s DNA results. Was there something new?
“Sylvia, I’m glad you called. I wanted to thank you—”
“Oh my God, Dan...”
Her voice shook so he barely made out her words. “Sylvia, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Nina. She’s missing.”
“What?” She was in a private facility with topnotch security.
“We can’t find her, Dan! She’s gone.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Dan rushed from his office. “I’ll finish clearing out later today. Call Chief Black if anything comes up.”
Nina Baron spent most of her time in a near catatonic state. She hadn’t been outside a protected, structure
d environment in more than ten years.
How the hell could this have happened?
20
Druid Hills, 1:35 p.m.
Jess waited, trying not to tap her foot with impatience, while Wanda settled into her chair with her tea.
“You said before,” she began, unable to wait any longer, “there was a break in at the Irondale house after my parents died. What happened to the rest of their things? Photo albums? Furniture? Clothes? Things a burglar wouldn’t be interested in.” So far Lori hadn’t been able to locate a police report on the alleged break in, but thirty two years was a long time and misdemeanor reports weren’t always kept that long.
Wanda stirred creamer into her tea. “I... I have to think back.”
On the drive here, Jess had formulated a theory she hoped was way off the mark.
“There wasn’t a whole lot to speak of—not that was worth anything,” Wanda commented.
Jess didn’t remember seeing her mother wear jewelry beyond her wedding band so there might not have been any jewelry. Little or no electronics of value, she suspected. Nothing she could think of that carried any real appeal for a burglar and that was the sticking point with Wanda’s explanation. What was the intruder looking for?
“Where did their belongings go?”
“You know.” Wanda set her tea aside. “I think there was a storage unit for a brief while.”
You think? “Did you ever visit this storage unit?”
Wanda lifted her gaze to Jess, uncertainty showed there. “Yes.”
“What did you do when you visited the unit?”
Wanda dropped her head. “I took things... to sell.”
Outrage fired through Jess, but she held it back. “What kind of things?”
“First it was small things, like her tea service. Then the stereo and your father’s golf clubs.”
“So, piece by piece you sold everything? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“There were some pieces of furniture, clothes, and pictures left but I couldn’t keep up the rent payments so they were auctioned. I tried to get those things back but it was too late by the time I got the letter in the mail.”
“Did you file a police report about the burglary at the house?”
