by Terry Keys
Chief Hill, in all the years I’d known him, had never hesitated or fumbled his words. What the hell is going on? I asked myself. Besides, this wasn’t the FBI’s case to solve. My team and I had put in way too many hours to simply hand it off. Baines was a good agent, and I trusted him, but I still didn’t like it. I didn’t like any of this.
“Porter, we’re going to have to book you for the murder of Tess Keystone,” Hill finally offered up.
I punched the wall with a closed fist. “What the hell are you talking about? You know goddamn well I didn’t kill Tess or anyone else.”
Hill gestured for two boots to cuff me. As they came closer I stared them down, and my touch-me-and-die look stopped them both in their tracks. They looked back at Hill, who nodded for them to proceed.
I stood there, cuffed like the scum I was used to arresting, and stared at Hill. He refused to meet my eye, choosing instead to examine some speck of dirt on his shoe.
“Process him in and take him to my office. Lock him in,” he said. He never raised his head.
Chapter 36
Just when I thought I’d hit rock bottom, I fell even further. People were dying, my family was gone, Tess was dead, Wilcrest was sick and dying, Miranda’s trust frayed, and now I was being booked for a murder I didn’t commit.
They took me back to processing, where Wilcrest was waiting. “David, this is just a formality. Too many eyes on this now. Chief had no choice.”
I felt betrayed by everyone. All the years of service, all the cases solved, all the time spent away from my family, the number of times I’d put my life on the line for this city, this department—apparently, none of that mattered.
“You knew? We talked less than an hour ago and you said nothing. Not even a goddamn heads-up.”
Wilcrest said nothing.
“This is the thanks I get for everything I’ve done?”
“David, calm down please. Like I said, this is merely a formality for the FBI, the cameras, the lights. They’re watching every move we make We’d arrest anyone else, given the same circumstances.”
“I’m not ‘just anyone else,” I growled in disgust.
Then I turned to the boots who’d taken me back. “Get these goddamn cuffs off me now!”
They looked at Wilcrest for their next move. “Well, for Christ’s sake, don’t just stand there. Take the damn cuffs off him.”
I was so angry that I hadn’t even noticed how tight the cuffs had been. I rubbed my wrists trying to massage the pain away.
The officer in the window cleared her throat. “Detective, Porter, your effects,” she said, nibbling her bottom lip and doing her best not to look me in the eye. “Detective Porter, we’ll have to check in all of your personal effects,” she repeated.
In that moment I decided to tone down my anger toward the boots. I understood the position they were. I took off my jacket and handed it to Officer Lacey. She logged it in and rifled through the pockets. The door flew open, and Hill and Baines pushed through. Neither of them said a word.
I watched as Lacey logged in my cell phone and truck keys. Then we all stared in amazement at what she took out of my jacket next.
It was a handwritten note on what appeared to be a receipt. After she read the note, Officer Lacey’s face went blank. She handed the slip of paper to Chief Hill, who took a quick look before handing it to me. Wilcrest stood over my shoulder as I read:
“They came to my house—a man and a woman. Said they’d hurt Jack and kill me if I talked to you. Help me. I don’t know how, but you have to help me. It’s you they want. They’re watching me.”
I looked up at Baines and Chief Hill before addressing Wilcrest. “So, did I write this note to myself and put it in my pocket, or do you need to wait for a handwriting analysis first? I told you Tess had to have been in some kind of trouble. Before this case, we hadn’t spoken in years. It was way too odd for her to have been interested again all of a sudden. She hugged me, which you saw from the pictures the media blasted everywhere. She hugged me way too long, which I thought was strange. She was trying to slip this to me. She was looking for help.”
“Porter, we need to finish the booking process. None of us ever thought you actually killed Tess or anyone else, but we can’t risk looking partial. We will have the note analyzed, highest priority. I presume that’s been riding around in your jacket since the meeting between you two. So that’s one good thing that’s come out of this, if nothing else. Wouldn’t you say?”
I said nothing. I emptied my pants pockets and put my wallet on the counter. After they’d logged in all of my personal effects, I was fingerprinted and endured a humiliating body-cavity search before heading for Hill’s office.
“Porter, hold on. Slight change of plans. The FBI flew a guy in. They’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Sure, why not. I’ll play with them.”
Hill’s face firmed. “Play nice.”
Chapter 37
Talk about rubbing salt into a wound. I decided if this wasn’t going to be pleasurable for me, I might as well have some fun with it. First time I’d ever sat in this room and been on the other side of the interrogation table.
I heard chatter outside the door, and a few minutes later it pushed open.
In walked Baines and another FBI agent I didn’t know. He looked to be about five foot five and one hundred pounds overweight. He wore a mustache that would have made Tom Seleck jealous. It was hideous. He was balding and only had thin strips of gray hair down each side. He looked like he could be Ron Jeremy’s long-lost brother.
The man extended his hand to me. “Agent Steve Mullinski. Pleasure to meet you, Detective Porter.”
I nodded, kept my seat, and shook his hand.
I turned to Baines. “I hope this doesn’t take too long. I’d like to catch a nap and watch Judge Judy here in a few hours,” I said.
Baines didn’t respond. Mullinski cocked an eyebrow at him. “Don’t look so shocked, fellas. I love me some Judge Judy.”
Mullinski cleared his throat. “Detective Porter, we’re going to be awhile,” he said.
“Why? Not certain why I’m being questioned anyway. We all know I’m innocent. Seems like a huge waste of taxpayers’ money.”
“The FBI’s file regarding your involvement with this entire case is pretty bare right now. We’d like you to fill in some gaps.”
I rolled my eyes. This was bullshit and everyone knew it. “Well, this entire case wasn’t your problem until a few hours ago. Kind of explains why it’s so bare. And what exactly is the case to you? I thought this was about Tess.”
Baines jumped in. “David, the FBI is now conducting an investigation into everything, going all the way back.”
I laughed. “All the way back to where? First grade? Second? How far back you guys wanna go?”
Mullinski tapped a pencil on the desk. “How about we go back to when you met Lisa Crease or I’m sorry Stacy? How about we start there?”
I put a hand up Mullinski’s direction and turned towards Baines. “What the hell is this about?”
He didn’t respond.
“Detective?” Mullinski called out.
I finally turned to him. “What, no foreplay? You just dive right in, huh? How about we start with the first time you got laid? That would be . . . what, a week ago?”
Mullinski’s face reddened. “Listen, wiseass, I’m not here to play games with you.”
“Well, I figured I shouldn’t be the only one in this room who was pissed the hell off about being here.”
“You want, we can get you put into a real holding cell after we’re done,” Mullinski said.
“You don’t have that kind of stroke, big fella. Don’t think you’re going to come in here waving your big FBI stick around and I’m just going to bend over.”
I caught the trace of a grin on Baines’s face just before Mullinski’s glare wiped it away. “Please, Detective, let’s just keep this civil, shall we? I’d hate to have to get other
s involved when we can take care of this amongst ourselves. Can we start over?”
“Listen, Criminal Minds I don’t owe you or the FBI a damn thing.”
“Funny. Name’s Mullinski.”
“Can you give us a few minutes please?” Baines said to Mullinski.
Mullinski eyed me, slammed his paper file folder on the table, and walked out. He made sure to slam the door behind him too.
“David, what the hell are you doing?”
“Screw you, Baines. This how friends treat each other? Arrest, interrogation, accusations?”
“Quit having a goddamn pity party and listen. Public perception of you right now couldn’t be any worse. You’re a public servant. Perception’s kind of important, don’t you think?”
“The FBI doesn’t give a damn about my reputation and neither do you.”
I never wanted to make anything about race that shouldn’t be, but I lived in the real world where race played a role in damn near everything. It crept into my mind. I tried to force it out but I couldn’t.
“Some of the boys upset about me moving up the ladder? This their way of putting me back in my place?”
Baines shook his head. “Hey, don’t give me that shit. We’re in the same skin, remember? It hasn’t always been easy for me either; you know that.”
“None of it makes sense. Who made the call to involve the FBI to begin with? Why are they going back to Lisa Crease? What the hell are they trying to figure out?”
“Look, David, I don’t know all the details. Can you just let the guy ask his questions so we can all move the hell on? I do know that not cooperating is just going to make things worse for you when it doesn’t have to be that way.”
“You think he looks like Ron Jeremy?” I asked.
Baines laughed. “He kinda looks like the cop from NYPD Blue. What was his name?”
“Sipowicz.”
“Yeah. Dennis Franz!”
We both laughed again.
“Listen, Porter. We need to catch up after all this shit is over. Been way too long. And for what it’s worth, I sure am sorry about all this. I know it’s been a nightmare for you and your family.”
Baines stepped out to fetch Mullinski so we could get this over with.
“You boys finished with your little Kum-ba-yah moment?” The agent said as he settled into a chair across from me. “I saw you two in here laughing it up. This the part where we hold hands, pray, and do a rain dance?”
“First off, I’m pretty sure there are no boys here, big fella. I agreed to play nice, but don’t make me change my mind,” I said. “And keep your little digs in that pea-sized brain of yours.”
We eyed each other for what seemed like five minutes with no one saying a word. Finally, Baines tapped Mullinski on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear.
Mullinski pushed record on the recording device in his hand and set it on the table. He pointed at it me. “Hope you don’t mind?”
I shrugged. “You wouldn’t care if I did.”
“So let’s start at the beginning. How’d you meet Lisa Crease?”
“Still not certain why that is relevant, but I’ll play along. I met Lisa at Tech.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t answer my question. I asked how you met her.”
“She saw a tall, dark, young, handsome, and supremely athletic-looking black man and had to know who I was. I’m sure you understand that, right?”
Mullinski glanced at Baines, who shot me a pleading look. I can’t help it, I mouthed to Baines. I could tell he’d had about enough.
Mullinski continued. “Okay, OJ, tell me how you two ended up at the party.”
OJ? Score one for Mullinski. I liked him a little more after that.
I smiled. “We were both trying to make ourselves look like somebody we weren’t. That’s what it boils down to.”
“When did you find out that you had a son by her?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“And there had been no mention of this before?”
“My answer of ‘a few weeks ago’ not clear enough?”
“I’ll ask the questions here.”
“Ask intelligent ones then, please.”
“Moving on. . . tell me a little about your relationship with Tess.”
“Old high school girlfriend.”
Mullinski dumped the Chronicle photos onto the table. “Looks like more than that to me.”
“That a question? Doesn’t sound like it to me.”
“Did you kill Tess Keystone?”
“No.” My eyes burned a hole right through him.
“Sorry. Had to ask. Were you and Tess having an affair?”
“How mad would it make you if we were? Smart, attractive Anglo woman. . .”
Mullinski turned to Baines and pointed at me. “This guy always like this?”
“Let me answer that,” I said. “You see, this is the first time I’ve been detained and interrogated in my own station. So there’s no baseline to judge my current behavior against. And if by ‘like this’ you meant smart, then yes.”
“No, I didn’t mean smart. Smart-ass, maybe.”
“No, Tess and I were not having an affair. How’s that?”
“Where were you on the day she was killed?”
“With your mo—” I stopped myself. “Home.”
“Can anyone corroborate that?”
“No.”
“So it’s possible that you did kill Tess?”
“Well, I suppose by that logic it’s possible that you could have killed her too.”
I leaned over close to him and whispered, “We are cops. We use evidence to convict the bad guys.”
“Do you believe there are others out there like Lisa and her sister Brittany? Other than Marci, of course. You know girls killing rapists.”
My eyes met Mullinski’s. I squinted them at him. “Yes. Dozens.”
“Does the fact that this kid you’re chasing is your son change how you’re handling things?”
I slammed my fists on the table. “Do not question my integrity or commitment again, Mr. Mullinski. I am doing my job to the best of my abilities. The fact that he is my son makes me want to get him off the streets even more.”
“Well, there are people at the FBI who feel—”
“I really don’t give two shits how you or anyone else at the FBI feels, Mully. Stick to asking questions, and I’ll stick to answering them.”
“Fair enough. Your wife had a chance to see the pictures of you and Tess? Was she happy? And Mully. . . I like that. It’s like a rap name or something. You guys are so damn creative.”
“My family is off-limits, Mully.”
“Well, detective, I hate to break it to you, but this whole thing pretty much involves your family, now doesn’t it?”
“Do you have any other questions?”
“How about answering my last two?”
“Yes, my wife knows. She just wants to be home with me. Same for my girls. We about done here? Starting to feel like Jerry Springer instead of an actual police investigation.”
“Is there anything else you or any of your team members know about this case that you haven’t told me? Anything you’d like to share?”
The last sentence would be my get-out-of-jail-free card if I ever needed it. There was nothing I wanted to share with any of these assholes.
“No.”
“Well, that was a quick, simple answer. You sure?”
“It was a quick, simple question, Mully.”
Mullinski reached over and turned off the recorder. “That’s all I have for now. You know, things would’ve been a lot easier if you’d just cooperated from the start.”
“I don’t do anything the easy way, Mully. Where’s the fun in that?”
Mullinski got up to leave. “Hey, don’t skip town on me. I may think of a few more questions for you.”
“Questions? You don’t have to ask me. That’d be kind of embarrassing, I know. Just read the book for yourself. T
he title is Sex – a How-to Guide for Newbies. You should be able to find it at Barnes and Noble.”
Mullinski slammed the door shut behind him again.
“I thought you said you’d play nice?” Baines said.
“I thought I was. That guy, though. . . man, he’s a real asshole.”
“For what it’s worth, Porter, I’m sure you two feel the same way about each other.”
Baines had a point. I definitely hadn’t made a friend.
A few officers who were waiting outside the door walked me down to Hill’s office.
I heard the lock click as the door closed me in. I went over to Hill’s desk and checked the phone. To my surprise it was working, so I phoned Mitchell and told him what I needed him to do next. Then I called Fingers and got him started on video surveillance in the Pasadena area.
When I reached out to Fingers about joining the MCD, he had been working on software that could link video recording devices. It would actively search recordings matching any given criteria—faces, cars, even a tattoo. There were bugs to work out, but even its pedestrian capabilities were better than nothing. The only drawback was the search radius was only about ten square miles making the matching quite timely.
I’d already sent him the video of Caleb from the Rosharon Post Office. If Fingers could find a match, we could go over, pick Marci and Caleb up, and end this. It seemed nothing had been going right for me lately. I needed this to go right. We all did.
Chapter 38
I’d just hung up the phone with Fingers when I heard a key turn in the lock, and Hill, Baines, and Wilcrest stepped into the office. I didn’t have much to say to any of them. And honestly, they probably didn’t want to hear from me either.
Chief Hill’s face hardened. “Porter, I need to be really clear here. This thing already looks ugly enough. As of right now, you are off the case. That means officially, unofficially, the whole nine yards. No phone calls, no texts, no Instagram, Snapchat or any other gizmo that your kids tell you about. Off the case. Do I make myself clear?”
I nodded without making eye contact. I was still pissed about how they’d handled my arrest, and I wanted them all to know it. Wouldn’t do any good, but I wanted them to know it all the same. Hell, we even gave street rats the benefit of the doubt. Me? Not so much. Being held in Hill’s office instead of a cell might have looked like special treatment, but it was more a matter of the department trying to keep me out of the limelight, to protect its reputation, especially after those goddamn pictures hit the news.
