by Kelly Shade
“I would really like not to be freaked out by the person I want for a partner, okay?” he said. He interrupted her in a bit louder voice. Jane looked at him and nodded. She wasn’t pleased about it because she loved doing her magic, but she let him continue.
“Yes, I’m searching for a murderer,” he spoke with an obvious annoyance in his voice. “Six years ago my mother had an offer to do a secret research. She was a journalist. She raised me alone, and we didn’t have much money at the time, so she accepted the job. Her name was Amber Gray. She was a great mother, a kind, strong woman, always wanted to help people. She became a journalist so she could help the homeless, orphans and disadvantaged people. She knew when she was writing stories and taking interviews she was giving them a voice. There are three shelters for the homeless because of her. She also helped with the renovation of two orphanages. Because of her, the mayor held a fundraiser, and five million dollars was donated. She was making a difference. A lot of people loved my mother, but she was hated by politicians and people highly ranked in the society.” Ryan’s eyes were full of tears, but he was trying to hold them back.
“Amber Gray . . .” Jane said thoughtfully “You know I think I’ve heard of her.”
“Yeah, she was quite popular,” Gray whispered. “So,” he breathed deeply. “She got that secret job. She wouldn’t tell me what it was or who she would work for. I was worried, of course. But I trusted her, so I didn’t insist on knowing. After a week she started to act more secretive than at the beginning. She was hiding everything, her notebook, documents, photos of the research. I started to worry again, because normally she used to bring everything home. Sometimes we were writing the stories together, and she used to let me do quick underground research for more information. But this project was different.” Ryan closed his eyes for a second.
“I started asking again. My mother shouted at me, for the first time in my life, saying, “Let me do my job; don’t you have anything better to do?” I was offended, but apologized anyway. I stopped asking questions about that job and started to behave as usual. Everything looked okay for about a week. On the 6th of April at 11 PM, I received a call from the police. They had found a woman with blunt force trauma on the back of her head with no money or wallet. The criminal coroner in the morgue recognized her, so they decided to call me to determine that it was Amber Gray for sure. I went there. I still don’t remember how long it took me or how I got to the station. Everything was a blur after that news. I saw my mother on that table. I asked them what happened and the police officer in charge said they needed to investigate first, but all the facts were showing, that it probably was a robbery gone wrong. Later they found her belongings with a mentally ill, homeless guy. They said his jacket was covered in my mother’s blood and everything pointed to him. They convicted him and closed the case.” It was hard for Ryan to speak about this.
“And you don’t believe them. Why?” asked Jane.
“Because I saw her golden ring on her finger. Because it happened after that mystery job, she had. Because it doesn’t feel right.” He was annoyed by the question. “The homeless person was locked in a mental institution. I tried to talk to him. He looked like he couldn’t understand a word I was saying. It was like he was living in a different world. That’s why I need you! You are good with people. I’m good with machines! We can be an awesome team! I’ll help you steal more money and whatever you’re doing, and you will help me with my search.” He tried to hide the anger.
“Okay, I can do that,” said Jane.
While listening to his story, she had a poker face with no sign of emotion. With the same serious expression, she added: “Let’s talk about it tomorrow morning. I need some sleep.”
Ryan wasn’t sure whether he should be happy or annoyed. It was the first time in six years he talked about his tragedy, and he didn’t expect that reaction.
“Why do you help the police? Why don’t you just steal the money?” Ryan wanted to see at least a drop of humanity in her. “I bet it would be easier. You wouldn’t have to go through all the trouble.”
“Yeah, it is an easier way but not that fun,” Jane said icily.
Ryan felt even worse than before. “There must be something else,” he said. “You pretend to be heartless, but I’m sure you’re not!”
“Look, Gray, if you want me to help you catch your mother’s killer, okay, but don’t ask too many questions!” Jane was in her always-on-the-defensive mode. “I have my reasons! I said I want to rest so can you please . . .” she stood up and looked meaningfully at the door.
“I will need my gun. There is nothing to be worried about. I hope you at least got that.” Ryan almost forgot his weapon.
Jane took it out of her pocket and looked at it. I was a Glock 19.
“Nice one. Nine millimeter,” she said, “You know that’s plastic, right. I would think you would go for a manlier gun.”
“Well, it wasn’t my first choice, but I couldn’t fit a machine gun in my pants” he snarled, and he pulled his weapon from her hands.
“Huh, okay, good to know,” she said. “Now, please, leave.” A frown crept onto her face. “You could buy bigger pants.”
Gray grimaced and stormed out.
After that long and exhausting night, Blake needed some time for herself. She took a shower and jumped in her king-sized bed. She opened and closed her eyes; she couldn’t sleep. She pulled the nightstand next to her and saw the notebook where she kept notes on her investigation. She reached for it, but she gave up. Instead, she put her gun under the pillow. Blake wanted to get some sleep before dealing with Ryan Gray. Her head was a mess. Her mind jumped from one thought to another. Jane had to force herself to stop and try to fall asleep. All those thoughts had to wait for another day.
***
The sun was shining into Jane’s bedroom. It was almost noon when she opened her eyes. It was a beautiful day, and her first thought was to swim in the pool. With coffee in her hand and a smile on her face, she went to the backyard. She stretched out and put her sunglasses on. It was like yesterday never happened. After a few laps in the pool she got out, and she saw a little pink sticky note on the small table between the sun beds. She was sure that Ryan put it there before he left and she was right. Something was written in lousy handwriting, "Call me – 213 841 5732, Ryan Gray." Jane took her phone, but she didn’t dial right away. It was like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to do it. There was something about him that didn’t feel right. He was hiding something, but she couldn’t say what. It took her some time to decide she could handle that guy. She called the number, and he answered right away.
“Hello, sleepy head!” Gray chirped.
“Hi,” she snapped.
“Not in a mood, ha?” Ryan was happy she called. “Can I come over?”
“Okay, be here in fifteen minutes.”
Jane hung up the phone and went to get dressed. For some reason she was worried. The sickening feeling that something wasn’t right came back again. She hated it and tried to get her mind off of it.
In precisely fifteen minutes, Ryan knocked on the door. Jane was surprised and glad he was on time.
“Hey, I’m not late, right?” he asked with a smile.
“Nope,” Jane was giving him a weird look.
Today he was dressed more formally than the day before. His shirt had short sleeves, but they covered the tattoos on his shoulders. The jeans weren’t the baggie kind like before. The casual appearance was changed for a more formal.
“How are you?” Ryan asked nicely.
“Good.” Jane wasn’t a very open person. She liked her own space and privacy. She hated the idea of sharing her secrets with someone. The sick feeling came back. There was something different about Ryan. Not only his outfit which shocked her but the vibe around him wasn’t the same. Jane preferred the sneakers and the wide-leg jeans.
“Tell me why you wanted to come,” Jane said while she suspiciously looked at him from head to toe.
; “I’m good, thanks for asking!” he rolled his eyes and smiled. “If we want to investigate my mother’s murder we need help from a homicide detective.”
“And how exactly are we going to do that?” she narrowed her eyes, which made her look malicious.
“I want to take you somewhere, but you will have to trust me!” said Ryan and he thoughtfully hurried out so Jane wouldn’t have the time to argue.
“That I can’t do,” Jane said quietly but she followed him.
A black SUV was parked in front of her house. Ryan sat on the driver’s side and invited her to join him. Jane opened the door but didn’t get in. The vehicle was large. Too large for a guy without a wedding ring, thought Jane.
“Where are we going?” she asked while putting sunglasses on, making it very hard for Ryan to guess her mood. The sparkles in her eyes only showed if she was mad at him.
“Trust me,” he said nervously and patted the passenger seat inviting Jane to sit.
“I don’t trust anyone. Why should I start now?” Blake leaned on the car with crossed arms and a nasty smile.
“You don’t know it yet, but I’ll be the person you will trust the most at some point,” Ryan said in a surly tone. He put his sunglasses on and started the engine.
Jane didn’t say anything. She got in the car, and they drove off. It was a long drive. The rush hour didn’t help at all. They didn’t talk; there was no radio on, only the awkward silence. Both of them felt uncomfortable in the other’s presence. Ryan was opening and closing his mouth soundlessly. He looked like a cheerful guy by nature, always trying to break the ice, most of the times successfully. But with Jane, it was like all the words he knew were gone; all the fun facts and jokes disappeared; all the questions he had for her forgotten; everything has gone.
Jane was watching through the window and guessing where they were going. It was odd for her not to know, but once in a while, it was nice to go with the flow. Blake still felt unsure about her decision to let Ryan Gray close to her. What if he was investigating her? She knew her work was flawless and there was no way to get caught. Also, she didn’t admit anything, so there was no evidence against her.
They drove a mile more and stopped. Ryan hit the brakes too fast. Jane got out of the movie she imagined in her head and glanced at Gray with disapproval.
“Sorry!” he said awkwardly and looked down. Ryan’s mind also was running scenarios of the future, and that was why he had stopped at the last second. He was way more tense than Jane.
In front of them stood a three-story apartment in downtown LA; the building was fancy looking. It was covered in mirror-like windows and seemed more like an office building. A group of people in front of it were discussing something. Jane couldn’t hear what they were saying, but by the tone, she could tell that something worried them. Blake looked around and saw two police cars parked near the building entrance.
Jane stared again at the heated crowd, and she saw a police officer in the middle talking to people. He was waving his hands at the building and trying to calm the crowd. What looked like lawyers, accountants and all kinds of suit-wearing important persons were attacking the officer who apparently wouldn’t give them the answers they wanted.
Jane moved her eyes from the comical view. She glanced at Ryan. Blake knew what was happening, but she wanted him to speak up. She looked at him questioningly with one eyebrow lifted.
“I believe you already know where we are going,” Ryan said and turned off the engine and faced her. She still had her sunglasses on, but Ryan knew she was looking sharply at him. He swallowed and plucked up his courage. “Shall we?”
“We shall,” she answered. She didn’t sound angry, but she talked very quietly which seemed creepy. “You could have told me, you know?” she said.
Chapter 3
First of many . . .
Gray lifted his shoulders and his cheeks became slightly red.
They got out of the car and walked to the entrance in silence. Avoiding one of the policemen, who waved at him, Ryan waved and hurried to the elevator. He was pulling Jane’s hand as if he were afraid she might go back and refuse to help him.
They entered an elevator which moved slowly. Ryan looked at the floor to avoid Jane’s glance. She was maintaining the awkward silence on purpose. She wanted him to feel her anger. How long will it take, Ryan thought, this is the slowest elevator ever. He didn’t know if Blake could read his mind, but he was sure his secret was not much of a mystery to her. A few more seconds passed like hours. Jane was still standing quietly. A rich melody started as they arrived. Just before the doors opened, Jane whispered as calmly as she could, “So you are a cop?” No waiting for an answer “You don’t look like a cop. Your posture and body language are typical of a computer nerd.” She scanned him from head to toe. “I think it is time to come clean.”
“Nerd, she says” he was a little offended “No, I’m not . . . Well, yeah, I work with the cops. I’m a hacker as I told you. “
“So the gun and the hidden badge are for your Halloween costume?” Jane’s fantastic light green eyes sparkled because she was angry.
“Uh, well, I’m kind of . . . I’m a homicide detective. But I’m with LAPD mostly because I’m a computer nerd. It’s complicated. Now is not the time.”
The elevator doors finally opened. Ryan was saved. Jane took a long breath, closed her eyes, took a second to calm down and went out after him. She found herself in front of a massive armored door with gold ornaments. It didn’t matter how fancy it looked; Jane was more interested in the yellow tape stuck on it, saying, “Police line, do not cross."
Ryan knocked on the door. A young policeman opened it and smiled at him.
“Hey, I thought you wouldn’t come. What took you so long?”
Ryan ignored the question. He had a severe expression on his face, and without the smile, he looked fearsome. The twentyish-looking cop stopped smiling and took a step to the side so they could go in. Ryan hurried in but Jane was held by the policeman who felt very uncomfortable, and his red face was showing it. Of course he couldn’t let anyone in without a badge, but on the other hand Ryan Gray was bringing that woman with him to a crime scene, so it must mean something.
“She’s with me!” Ryan turned and said coldly. Jane gave a little smile to the young officer and made few quick steps to get to Ryan.
“Maybe now is not the time, but soon it will be,” Jane whispered in Ryan’s ear while standing on her tippy toes because he was so tall. “Lead the way, Officer!”
“Detective!” he murmured.
They were in a little hallway. There was a significant mirror on the wall next to a clothes hanger and a shoe shelf with four pairs of leather, expensive-looking black and brown shoes. A big arch separated them from the living room. They stepped in and now they could see the luxury apartment. Crime Scene Unit was already there; two of them were taking photos; the other two were searching the place, and one went into another room, probably the bedroom.
Everything was in its place. The vase with one-day-old carnations on the massive dining mahogany table was untouched. The wool-linen gray rug was a little ragged from what looked like a thin heel, but overall it was gorgeous. It was a vast room which lacked furniture. There was one big shelf with almost new books. Jane thought they were there simply for appearances. Her eyes went to the victim; a middle-aged man was sprawled on the floor on his abdomen with his eyes open and his head turned to the side. Jane kneeled next to him. There were no signs of a struggle, not even a scratch on his face and arms. His gray hair was well combed, his costume untouched.
“Poisoned,” Jane murmured and she stood. Ryan was next to her, but he wasn’t interested in the victim. He was looking around, waiting for someone to come. That someone was the man who went in the bedroom a few minutes ago. Now he was heading to Ryan with a severe expression on his face.
“Gray, who’s that? Are you bringing dates to crime scenes now?”
“That’s Jane Blake, Hunt! And, unfor
tunately, she is not my date,” Gray’s smile returned to his face.
The tall officer of the law was no more than forty-five years old, perfectly shaven, short black hair with silver strands and dark blue eyes. When he heard Jane’s name, he froze and looked straight at her. It took him a second to realize Ryan was laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, I guess” he said, still trying to calm his laughter. “Jane, this is Connor Hunt, our beloved boss, head of homicide, the grumpy man with no sense of humor but much sense of justice, the star of the precinct.” Ryan introduced him as if he were a talk-show star.
Jane smiled, but Hunt became even more severe than before.
“Gray, if I wanted a clown, I would hire one. Shut your mouth and have some respect,” Connor Hunt said in an icy tone and turned to Jane “Let’s see if you are as brilliant as this funny guy here is saying, shall we?” for the first time, there was a smile, a sarcastic smile.
Jane Blake didn’t like to be mocked. She glanced at Hunt as if she wanted to set him on fire. She gave Ryan the same look with even more hate in it.
“We shall. Excuse me,” she added and went to investigate the apartment.
First stop was the kitchen. There was nothing much to see in there. The man didn’t have anything in the fridge. All the appliances were untouched. On the counter, Jane saw a wallet and opened it. There were credit cards, a driver’s license in the name of Tim Wesley, work badge and some cash. A TCI bank badge showed the victim was a director of the bank branch nearby.
“He knew the killer, and the killer knew him very well,” Jane talked to herself while looking at the old and very expensive brandy and the two glasses next to it. One was full, the other half-full. The poison was in here, Jane thought. Maybe the killer didn’t touch it to avoid leaving DNA on it.
